#Wednesday (2022) smut

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[crazyoffher]

TAKE YOUR PICK.

wednesday addams x fem!vampire!reader

summary: a werewolf attack leaves you in need of aid, though you find yourself aided in more than just your wounds.

warnings: smut (18+) — slight oral (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as “cock” at one point, slight face-slapping, teasing, dirty talk, virgin!r, withheld orgasm. -> mentions of blood, wounds, werewolf attack, medical equipment, mentions of kidnapping, scarring, and dom!w + sub!r.

word amount: 6900+

a/n: yes you read that right, 6900+ words. i guess i beat you, didn’t i, my ⭐️ anon 😉.

“Our successor greets us with torture by this grouping.” Her words were dull, and as you turned to face her, you were met with her eyes boring into yours. You cocked your head to the side, easily bypassing a tree that would’ve hit anyone else. Your instincts were stressed by your venture into the woods with the murderous woman you labeled your enemy accompanying you.

Your skin itched. Badly. Though you would rather burn in the flames she created than take action for relief, you never dared to let the shorter girl win at her former pleas to have her partner switch, labeling it as having to not deal with your pollen allergy, but everyone knew of your rivalry.

It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.

“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.

Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  

You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.

You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.

“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.

You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 

Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”

“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.

Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.

You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 

A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.

You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.

“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.

The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.

“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.

She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.

You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”

You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”

“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.

Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.

Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”

Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”

“No.”

“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”

Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.

With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.

“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”

“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 

“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”

“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”

She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.

“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”

“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”

“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”

Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.

A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.

You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.

You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 

You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 

You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-

Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.

“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.

You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.

You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.

Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.

Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.

The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.

What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.

She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.

“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.

In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.

A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”

“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.

“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.

After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”

“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”

“What?”

Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.

“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”

She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”

At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”

Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.

It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.

Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”

"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.

“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”

“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”

Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”

“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”

You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 

“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.

Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.

The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.

Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.

When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 

“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.

You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.

“Why?”

“What?”

“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”

It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.

Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.

Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.

Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”

“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.

“Add-”

“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”

You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”

“Addams-”

“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”

Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.

“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”

Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.

Huh?!

Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.

That’s what she presumed to regret. 

But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.

“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”

Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.

She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.

“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.

You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.

Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.

Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 

And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?

“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.

“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”

“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”

Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.

While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.

Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”

She was simple. “Relax.” 

On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.

Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.

“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.

You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.

You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.

She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.

“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”

She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.

“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.

Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.

The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”

You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.

Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.

And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.

Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”

Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.

One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 

Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 

“Don’t cum.”

The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”

The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 

The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.

“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”

You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.

Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.

Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.

“La mia dolce metà,” she whispered, hands running down your body and to your hips, “I’m not done with you just yet.” The edges of her lips tugged ever so slightly when she dipped her head down to meet your core, leaving you to moan with delight as your hand found it’s way back to her hair.

[prettybabybaby]

blessing in disguise | xavier thorpe !

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: NONCON , kidnapping, dark!xavier, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 2.5k

synopsis: one final rejection and one accident resulted in something Xavier had only dreamed of.

disclaimer: all characters in my works are at least 18. there is dark and triggering content in this, as stated above. consider what you are comfortable with reading before you continue. your media consumption is your responsibility, not mine.

¡ wednesday masterlist !

It’s not like Xavier meant to do it. It was an accident and nothing more. He simply lost control and that’s not his fault. If anything, you were to blame for this.

You just looked so pretty in your cute dress, hair just like he liked it and a face as adorable as it gets with eyes lined and lips glossy. He was sure you’d finally say yes. Why else would you dress so beautifully to meet him in the woods? Especially knowing how he feels about you. It was for him. All for him and him only. For his eager eyes and yearning thoughts. You knew what you were doing.

But as always, you rejected him. Coldly, this time. Gone were the bashful and quiet apologies as you refused to meet his eyes, staring down at your feet or glancing over your shoulder as if you were afraid someone might hear you.

No, that wasn’t the case this time. You looked him in the eye with a huff, gaze hard. Your words were sharp and firm when you spoke, “can’t you take a hint? I don’t like you, Xavier.”

He was stunned, physically reacting with his brows lifting and eyes widening the slightest bit before they dropped, filled with the same venom that clouded yours, jaw clenching. It was so unlike you — well, the version of you he had concocted in his mind — he had the right to be angry with you. You disrespected him blatantly, again. All Xavier wanted was to love you.

Not even he could stop himself as his mind blurred before it blanked as he reached for you, wrapping his arms around you, brain and body fighting the urge to run his hands along your figure, desperate to feel it underneath his fingertips now that he had you so close. He snaked a hand up your body to your mouth, muffling your screams. You thrashed in his hold as he dragged you through the woods, taking the all-too-familiar path to his isolated art shed.

You panicked as he wrestled you to the ground, pinning your arms and running his nose along the column of your throat, breathing you in. You smelled so good, even better now that he could finally dissect the myriad of scents that made up the air that blew behind you every time you walked away from him, ignored him. 

He wasn’t sure when you began to cry but your tears were already hitting the ground and soaking some of the brown strands of his hair when he kissed up your neck, savoring the taste of your skin. 

“Xavier, stop,” you whispered, “I’m sorry.” You weakly pushed against him.

There was your sweet voice again. Fragile and delicate and so incredibly arousing. He sighed, kisses coming out messier and more frantic than before as he worked his way up to your lips that pleaded to be released, for him to wait, please stop. 

Your lips touched briefly, nothing longer than a second before you turned your head, sobbing as you pushed more insistently. He was so caught up in the pillowy feel of your lips that he moaned pathetically against your cheek as he sloppily kissed the flesh of your cheek, eager for anything he could get. The salty flavor of your tears was as delectable as a delicacy.

As your legs kicked and your hips wiggled and your pants of exhaustion in his ear got shallower, he grew against your thigh, mindless jerks of his hips increasing speed as time passed. 

Xavier felt himself grow warm, a deep, scorching pink painted his cheeks in embarrassment. What are you thinking? Are you thinking about how pathetic he is? Or how desperate he is for you? Maybe you’re finally realizing how badly he’s wanted to have you like this and just how far you had pushed him. You. Your doing. This was all your doing.

He used a single hand to pin your wrists, easily overpowering you as you tried to sit up, newly freed arm on its way to collide with his face. 

“Sh,” Xavier mumbled, capturing your bottom lip between his as he slid an eager hand down your body. There was a violent throb as his touch hovered over your shoulders, so gently it seemed he was almost scared to touch what he wanted so badly.

It was quick to make its way back up when he felt a stutter come from your jaw. His hand wrapped around the base of your neck, a warning, “don’t even think about it.”

Xavier wasn’t used to being so demanding. Unfortunately this is what he had to do, it was his only option after all you had done. It pained him to make you cry — even if you looked so beautiful doing it. It hurt him to have to pin you down and take what was destined to be. You and him. 

He felt you swallow under his hand as he encased your lips properly, tasting your mouth. He was already breathless, lost in you even when you refused to kiss him back, only making noises of protest as you squirmed. 

His touch glided down your body, losing patience with you and himself for his hesitation. He’d have you again. As many times as he wanted after this. 

He groaned into your mouth, frustrated at the dress you wore. Sliding down further, he pushed up your skirt, groping the fat of your soft thighs, tickling your flesh. Your knees twitched and he took a deep breath, pulling away from your lips to nip at your ears, licking the tears that dribbled down them. 

“Xavier,” you cried softly, “please, don’t.”

A response was on the tip of his tongue but it quickly turned into a moan as his pinky came in contact with a wet patch on your panties. He laughed breathily, you didn’t mean that. Your body knew what your mind hadn’t quite grasped. You needed him. 

You jolted, fighting even harder than before, “don’t touch me.” He could feel you getting angry, the fire in your eyes from before igniting again. 

Xavier shook the hair that fallen out of his ponytail from his face to get a clearer look at your face. He wanted to watch you give in to the pleasure he would force on to you. His smallest finger ran up your slit and he watched closely as you fought the fluttering of your eyes. God. He had barely touched you and you already looked this perfect.

“Don’t,” you spat, trying to slide out from under him as you nails dug into his hand. He clenched his jaw, pursing his lips as he exhaled through his nose. Why did you have to make this so difficult?

He kicked your thighs apart with his own, settling between your legs. Your heat radiated, hot against his aching cock. He cupped your cunt, kissing your cheek as he pushed against your hole lightly to hear you hiss. 

You jerked your hips when his fingers danced along the waistband of the soft fabric. He felt himself get hotter, cheeks turning redder when he glanced down, watching his hand disappear underneath it, immediately drenched in your juices. His palm stimulated your clit as his long middle finger prodded at your hole without entering it, teasing you. Your panties shifted with his movements, the bulge of his hand and slender fingers moving swiftly under the dainty bow near the top of your underwear jumping. 

Your breath stuttered as you snapped out his name, “I said stop!” 

Your voice was muffled as all of his focus was on the feel of your slick and tight heat choking the finger he forced inside you. Xavier all but whined at the sensation, cock leaking in his pants. Your feet kicked at the ground, chest rising and falling. In pleasure or frustration he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t be bothered to stop and ask as he squeezed another finger in.

You moaned, quickly closing your mouth to stop the noise. His eyes snapped up, flickering over your face. He had never heard a sound affect him more. Not even siren song could battle the noises of your pleasure. He’d do anything you asked him to. Well, almost anything. He’d never let you go no matter how many times your sweet voice pleaded for his mercy. 

His lips crashed into yours, kissing you impatiently as he fingered you faster, trying to stretch you open enough to fill you full of his cock. You shook your head from side to side but he chased after you, swallowing your huffs and silent whines. 

A whimper sounded in your throat as he curled his fingers, trying to find the spongy area that would have you purring for him. The noise had him removing his fingers, shoving them into his mouth as he leaned in close to you, breathing you in while your juices coated his tongue. His exhale was shaky as he shut his eyes, sucking harshly at his fingers to try and get more of your slick into his mouth. 

“Xavier,” you breathed, “wait.”

His name fell so sweetly from your lips that he shoved his jeans down just enough to finally release his aching cock. He was leaking pathetically and throbbing against his hand as he pumped himself slowly, afraid he’d cum before he made it inside you. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin. He gripped his length, hauling himself up to position his pulsing dick to your hole. “Shit,” he growled, tugging aggressively at your underwear that seperated you from him. “Sorry,” he murmured, feeling instant regret for hurting you, “I’m sorry.”

You started to scream as your ass felt the bare ground, tears building in the corners of your eyes as he slapped his cock against your dripping core. “Stop it, please, Xavier.”

He ignored you, gaze flickering from your cunt to your face as he pushed inside. He groaned as his head forced it’s way into you. It already felt like too much, the way your pussy latched onto his cock, welcoming him in despite your thrashing body. 

Every inch had your screams dying, replaced with repressed moans as you opted to shut your mouth, denying him of the sounds. He couldn’t protest, concentrated on pushing back his orgasm that was too close for his liking. The last inch sent a wave of immense arousal down his body in the form of a shiver and a whimper. He stilled, focusing on his breathing and the bruised lip you tucked between your teeth.

You fit so well together, just like he knew you would. He glanced down, entranced by the way his hips were flush with yours, leaving no space for anything. You were finally one.

Your walls pulsed and it felt like they were begging him to move, to fuck you like he’d dreamed of doing too many times. He felt like all the waiting had been worth it now that you were choking his cock so deliciously. All of the times you rejected him, turned your back to him, dismissed him as if he wasn’t there, forgotten as he pulled back, watching the way your slick stuck to his hip as he retracted, keeping the two of you connected with a sticky string. 

Xavier kissed your jaw as he pushed himself back in, nibbling at the skin near your ear. He tried to keep a slow pace at first afraid the urge to ruthless pound into you would take over. Your short, high breaths flooded his ears, a prize for resisting. It sounded like you were enjoying yourself, too. But how could you not when he was fucking you so well, patiently and passionately, just like you deserved. Even after all you did to him, you still deserved to be fucked like a princess. 

Xavier smiled, pecking your neck as he rutted into you, his fingers undoubtedly leaving imprints of their shape on your waist. You found comfort in clinging to him, grasping his arms before curling your own under them, grabbing onto his shoulders. 

“No,” you would cry, followed by a satisfied, “fuck.”

You were so warm and soft. He wished he had the patience to undress you properly, to touch you more. He’d have another opportunity, he reminded himself and that thought had his mind swimming. How could he help you adjust? Would it be difficult to get a mattress inside the small shed? Is there enough space? He’d be damned if you were uncomfortable in your little safe haven. It would be a place you would grow to love, he was sure of it. You just needed to process your new environment and the new dynamics of your relationship.

The loud whine that came from you brought him back to reality, back to the sight of you falling apart under him but trying to refrain from it. Your eyebrows were drawn together, mouth parted and face hot.

“M’gonna cum,” he struggled to utter out the words. “Fuck you’re perfect. Im gonna fill you so well.”

“No!” you screeched, pounding on his back as he pounded into you, thrusting harder and faster as his orgasm crept closer. “Don’t you dare!”

You pulsed more violently than before at the change of pace, clinging to his cock. He knew you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t admit it.

It was like you felt him about to burst, nails breaking the skin of his neck seconds before he came. You dragged them down and he felt blood rush down his neck as he came. The feeling was so intoxicating that he kept thrusting until he was milked dry despite the stinging pain. He didn’t have to look down to know that his t-shit was soaking in the crimson liquid so he opted to focus on your pretty face as he came down from his high. You were sobbing now, arms limp on the ground as your chest heaved.

Xavier begrudgingly pulled out of you, watching the pearly spent dribble out of your pussy as he stood. You stared at the ceiling, unmoving as he searched the shed, wordless. He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there anything he could say at that point? He knew you didn’t understand yet. So he stayed silent until he found the lock and chain he had been searching for.

He walked over to you, clearing his throat. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him. Sitting up and fixing your skirt as you dragged yourself away. He sighed, looking around to locate the blanket he knew he had around somewhere. He spotted it almost immediately, draped over an admittedly uncomfortable chair. It would have to do for now.

He draped it over your legs, smiling softly when you looked at him. “I’ll be back soon.”

It was a mistake, Xavier told himself as he stepped away from the now locked art shed glancing behind him and around the surrounding area as his hand attempted to soothe the fresh scratches on his neck. He just lost control for a second, it’s nothing major. You were destined to be there. Why else would he have done it? He wanted to love you forever. And now he can. You’d understand soon enough. The accident was a blessing in disguise.

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— the hunter or the prey

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, face-sitting, roughness, mentions of blood, beastial behavior, all characters are aged-up

summary: your bloody hunt comes to an end, and you return to wednesday in the middle of the night — but a true hunter never rests

word count: 1.3k

a/n: in case you aren't familiar with my oni!reader series: every full blood moon (y/n) gains her true demonic form and runs wild in the woods next to nevermore

When you come back from your hunt, the image is always as beastly as it gets — pupils wide, teeth bare, blood staining almost every inch of your body. You're hazed, mind running wild, and it feels like coming down from a euphoric high, hot lava is boiling in your veins, the adrenaline pumping so vigorously you can taste it on your tongue.

It's the image of a perfect predator having satisfied her needs — one of them, at least, because the most animal, most primal one is yet to be.

The lights are off when you step into the room, slitted eyes shining in the darkness, and Wednesday turns her head to take a look at her late night guest. The ravenette isn't put off by your slouched gait, by the way the sharp claws on your hand dig into the wood of the doorframe as you come inside, trying to steady yourself — uninvited, but not unwelcomed — by the way your breath comes in small clouds of vapor — languid and heavy, leaving your mouth and nose as if you breathe fire and spit flames.

There was another feature that tied you to something akin to a wild dragon — your appetite could never be satisfied.

“(Y/n).”

You turn your head at the sound of your name, gaze landing on the small girl where she sits on the bed, wearing nothing but a dark oversized shirt – your shirt – and you feel saliva gather in your mouth. Her hair is undone from its usual braids, a bit messy, and if your mind wasn’t clouded you’d feel bad for waking her up.

“How was the hunt?” She asks, voice laced with sleepiness. She's tired but always wide awake for your arrival.

You don’t reply. Taking a few heavy steps closer to the ravenette, you bury your face into the crook of her neck, hands moving to rest on her thighs. Wednesday smells delicious, milky osmanthus mixed with something woodsy, the aftermath of a bath she must’ve taken before going to bed – you take a deep breath and feel the light traces of your own scent above hers.

“Need you,” you mutter lowly, your breath grazing Wednesday's skin and making her shiver, “Need you right now.”

Even in your half – unadequate state, you don’t push the girl. She doesn't deny you though — thin hands rest on your shoulders, and her breath hitches when you lift her up to switch places, letting her sit on your lap as you find your place on the bed.

Your shoulders rise and fall with every intake of air you do, and Wednesday's eyes trail down to the rest of your half - clothed frame — your haori is draped over your top, a pathetic attempt of seeking some decency of a human despite never ever being close to one, though it indeed does good work at covering you up. But she can still see it — the plain between your breasts, where the bones of your ribs are almost visible — her favorite place to touch, to kiss, and now that it's covered in blood, she'd love to lick it, up and closer to your neck, where you'd growl like a threatened animal when the ravenette would press her lips to your jugular, feeling your racing pulse.

Wednesday makes the right choice when she leaves the biting completely to you, because your maw is so huge it closes around her whole neck, and she knows that you could snap it in half like a twig if you wished to, the danger an incredible turn on. You nip at the soft flesh there, and her grip on your shoulders tightens before the ravenette pushes you down on your back. Your head hits the soft pillow encased in silky black linen, and the girl above you moves to rest on your middle, palm on your bicep to support herself. A small gasp leaves her mouth when your clawed hands wrap around her thighs, pulling her closer to your face with ease.

"No need for impatience, (Y/n). I'm all yours to have." She scolds softly, fingers grasping onto the bedframe to steady herself.

The words spur you on even more — tightening your hold, you press her closer and right onto your eager mouth.

The electric shock of pleasure is so sudden, running from her core up to her spine — Wednesday throws her head back, a silent moan on her dark lips, and her fingers tangle themselves in your disheveled hair. The feeling of your mouth on her heat is heavenly, almost too much, making her bite at her plump lip to keep the quiet whines in.

You’re surrounded by Wednesday – her scent, her taste, the way she feels under your hold, but you still can’t get enough of her — you growl into her wetness, the sound sending pleasurable tingles up the ravenette’s body, your claws digging into the milky flesh of her thighs to press her impossibility close to you.

"Good girl... Just like that..." She murmurs the praise, looking down at where you're practically buried in her warmth, and brushes some stray hairs from your face. You open your mouth to welcome her slick, tusks catching at her throbbing clit, long hot tongue sliding in, and Wednesday shudders and sighs, her walls fluttering around the rough muscle, the feeling of your teeth against her cunt so incredibly erotic.

The ravenette isn't really into riding your face in her exhausted state — she lets you do all the work, and you gladly oblige, slurping at her pretty pussy and practically gulping her down, and she closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling. And you — you're relishing in the taste of Wednesday on your tongue, sliding your tongue between her puffy folds to lick at her like a woman starved.

"You'd think a whole night spent hunting would satisfy you, but... there's hunger in you only I can sate."

And she's right — you're hungry for her, hungry like you've never been, ready to devour the small ravenette whole like she is your last meal before your head rolls down off a guillotine.

The ravenette’s breathing becomes labored, her thighs clenching around your head, and her hand moves to grab at the hem of her shirt, raising the cloth to her mouth and muffling her whimpers. You don’t let the new area of exposed skin go to waste – your claws rake up Wednesday’s thighs to her hips, right where she’s extremely sensitive, the touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, and hold her there, palms pressing into the pale plush of the girl’s body.

“Oh, (Y/n),” she moans into the fabric when your tongue slides over her clit, lips wrapping around it to suck gently, and her grip on your hair turns rough, back arching prettily. Her syrupy arousal drips down your chin, and you lap at her hungrily, helping her ride the orgasm out.

Wednesday pulls away, scooching back a bit to sit on your chest, letting you breathe, but you growl as she does so, and she tuts at you queitly.

“Patience. You take what I give you, cara mia,” her hand slides up to your maw, thumb reaching to lift your top lip over your canine, “Or do you want me to put a muzzle on that greedy mouth of yours?”

The tusk is almost twice the size of her finger, but you won’t ever dare bite the ravenette – your tongue moves against her palm instead, long muscle sliding over her pale skin, and Wednesday smiles.

She’ll gladly give you seconds – all in good time, of course.

[mouse-of-dimitrescu]

𝟷𝟸 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 🎄 #𝟺 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Not Alone ( nsfw )

WARNINGS: shapeshifting dick, unedited writing, nervous reader, fluff, basically sex I think we all know what happens there. Tell me if I need to add anything

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The end of the year had finally arrived. The majority of the students were packing to return home for Christmas. As a teacher, you practically lived at Nevermore so you were going to stay at the school. Little did you know that Larissa would be staying at Nevermore too.

At the end of every year, Larissa wishes the students a good holiday during a small gathering in the quad and that's where you walked to. Students were filtering into the quad and sitting on the tables, all impatient to go home. Larissa walked up to the microphone and smiled brightly. She rambled on about Nevermore's history, the year that has passed and the great achievements. She wished the students a merry Christmas. You watched her, you failed to pay attention to what she was saying but you secretly admired her from the table you were sitting on. The way she conducted herself, those smiles and winks that she cast around the room and the way she stood with one foot in front of the other — it was the little things that really got your heart beating abnormally fast — even her intricate updo hairstyle made you melt. Because it was Larissa and no one else.

She seemed to be speaking for hours — either that or the world was moving in slow motion. Larissa and the assembly of students and teachers began to clap as a congratulations for the year complete. You clapped too, absentmindedly following the actions of everyone else. Larissa dismissed everyone and watched as everyone walked away, all hustling out of the Nevermore halls to enjoy their much needed vacation.

You walked away too, deciding to go upstairs to your teacher's chambers. You shut the door and slumped down on the edge of your bed. Later that evening, you ordered pizza for yourself and walked downstairs to retrieve it at the main gate. Your footsteps echoed throughout the hollow halls. Larissa, who was also in her own chambers, heard your footsteps and got a bit of a fright. She exited her chambers and watched as you entered your own chambers. You were completely oblivious of her presence.

Larissa decided that the polite thing to do was greet you and make you aware that she was there too. Maybe then you both wouldn't have to spend Christmas alone. Larissa knocked on your door and you jumped.

" Who is it?" You called a bit nervously.

" It's me, dear." You heard the all too familiar Mary Poppins voice call back. You smiled slightly and rushed to open the door.

" Larissa, uh, hey. What are you doing here?" You asked.

Larissa chuckled. " I live here just like you." She tilted her head, slightly amused.

" Oh, right." You facepalmed. " I bought pizza, if you want we can share it? I can order more of course, because well, we'll still be hungry but—" you realised that you had been rambling.

" That sounds lovely, dear." Larissa interrupted with a small light laugh. Your eyes lit up and you smiled, stepping aside and welcoming her into your dorm.

" Please make yourself at home." You said awkwardly, gesturing to the sofa by the large bookshelf. Larissa approached the sofa and happily sat down, crossing one leg over the other.

You quickly ordered another pizza and looked over to Larissa. " Um, hot chocolate?" You smiled, knowing that it was her favourite.

Larissa smiled. " Yes please, darling. Thank you." She replied, eventually gazing around your living quarters and taking everything in.

You quickly went over to your kitchen and made hot chocolate for the both of you. You couldn't deny that you were nervous to have Larissa in your company. You didn't know how to act. What to say. And when you did say something you felt like total idiot and wanted to die in a hole like a stupid little hermit.

You brought the hot chocolate to Larissa. She took it from you and wrapped her cold fingers around the cup, savouring the wamth and soaking it up.

You sat beside Larissa and sipped your hot chocolate too.

" How has the year treated you?" Larissa asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

" Brilliantly. And...you?" You looked to Larissa, admiring how the curve of her lips heightened at your words.

" It was a good year for Nevermore. I must admit." She sipped her hot chocolate and looked over at you. " What's up with you and Coach Vlad?" Larissa asked, raising her eyebrow in a teasing manner.

You looked at Larissa and quickly looked down. " I-i-um, nothing. We're just good friends." You explained awfully to quickly.

" Are you sure?" Larissa chuckled slightly.

" Yeah, I mean, I'm gay. So..." You shrugged, finding it odd to come out to Larissa. You knew she would accept you, she is all about diversity and acceptance for everyone. You just didn't want her to think that you were hitting on her. You liked Larissa a bit too much for your own good. But you couldn't find the confidence to actually confront her about your feelings. Besides, she was your boss. And probably taken and too good for you.

Larissa raised her eyebrows and smiled. " Now, that's something I didn't expect. But I see it now. And do you have a lover? A lovely creature like you cannot be single." Larissa smiled.

You blushed and shook your head. " N-no, I don't have anyone." You avoided eye contact with Larissa and stared down into your oh-so-interesting half full cup.

" I'm surprised, dear. I don't have anyone either. " Larissa placed her empty cup down on the table and leant back slightly in her chair.

" You don't? " You looked at Larissa.

" No. I haven't had time for relationships as the principal. I've been thinking of changing that slightly." Larissa gave you a small smile and she looked out the window to see the pizza man approaching the building.

" The second pizza is here." She got up and walked out of the room to collect it.

Those few moments of solitude allowed you to gather yourself and wipe the sweat off your palms. Larissa drove you crazy. The way she looked at you. Even the way she said " pizza " got you giggling like a silly schoolgirl.

Larissa returned with the pizza and you both began eating. She glanced at you occasionally and smiled softly. After a while, you mustered up the courage to speak.

" I-I I think you should find someone. I mean...it's not fun being alone on Christmas." You said, taking a small bite out of your pizza.

" No it's not. Well...it looks like you and I are going to be together this Christmas. Doesn't it?" She wiped her lips with a napkin, the gossamer material stained red from her lipstick. She smiled slightly at you.

" Yes. Yes we are." You nodded and drew your eyes away from Larissa, which was extremely difficult.

" Dear, what's wrong?" Larissa frowned slightly, her voice tinted with concern. She put her pizza box aside and scooted closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your knee.

" Nothing." You have Larissa a small smile.

" Nothing? Don't lie to me, darling. I can see right through you. " Larissa said softly, a small knowing smile playing on her lips.

You quickly looked at Larissa. If she could see right through you then she knew about your feelings for her which, at this terrifying stage would be better left unconfronted.

" Right through me?" You asked, your voice so quiet, almost a whisper.

Larissa chuckled. " Yes, dear. The way you looked at me during my small speech today...was quite surprising. I knew you weren't listening. Too distracted by what's in that pretty head of yours. Mm?" Larissa lifted your chin up by her index finger and gazed directly into your eyes.

" N-no, I mean. Listen, I'm really sorry." You shut your eyes and pulled your head away from Larissas grasp.

" I like it when you look at me like that. It makes me want to destroy you." Larissa whispered, your eyes widened and you looked at Larissa quickly.

" What?" You blurted out.

Larissa laughed slightly. " Darling, I like you too. Very much." She caressed your cheek and jawline.

" C-can I kiss you?" You asked nervously, not believing this moment could ever exist.

" Of course you can, sweetheart." Larissa smiled and searched your eyes. You smiled nervously and pulled Larissa in for a soft kiss. Your lips matched the rhythm of hers and you found yourself in a strange, devoted labyrinth of unexpected and contradicting emotions.

Larissa deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to her body by your waist. You joined in her actions by holding onto her shoulder and caressing her cheek. When you both pulled away from the kiss.

" Was that okay?" You asked, searching Larissa's eyes for any sign of approval.

Larissa pecked you gently on your lips once again and placed a strand of hair behind your ear. " That was beautiful." She pulled you in for a warm hug. Your bodies warming up against each other.

" You're very lovely." You said, not entirely knowing what to say. Larissa let out a small laugh at your words and squeezed you tightly.

" Thank you sweetheart. I could say the same thing about you."

You spent a long time with Larissa, getting to know her over the past week. As expected she was a real charmer. She spoke to you and treated you as though you were the last person on earth. You did the same. Larissa's stories and voice and the way she said things was the first and last thing you wished to hear every day, but when one evening arrived and Larissa was snuggled close to you in bed, watching a movie, you found a strengthening desire to hear something more intimate.

You didn't know how to go about it but it looked like you didn't have to make the first move. Larissa's hand, that was on your back, holding you against her, now travelled down to your ass. She squeezed it gently and kissed your cheek. You blushed furiously and looked up at her.

" Do you like this, sweetheart?" She asked, almost teasingly as she ran her hand up and down your thigh.

You quickly nodded and smiled slightly. " Do...you want to—"

" More than anything, dear." Larissa kissed you gently and flipped you so you lay properly on your back. You looked up at Larissa and she leant down to kiss you again.

" I need you." You whispered softly, running your thumb along Larissas cheek.

Larissa smiled slightly took off her nightgown. Luckily, the room was warmed up from the heat of the fireplace so there was only a small chill that coursed through Larissas veins. You gazed down at her body, which was cloaked in silk pajamas, your eyes widened when you saw a bulge in her pants and you looked up at her, with a gulp.

" May I, darling?" She asked, tugging playfully at the waistband of your pajama pants. You nodded nervously but you were extremely excited at the same time. Larissa chuckled and removed your pants and underwear, flinging them elsewhere in the room. She removed her own pants but left her underwear on — her cock straining against her knickers.

" You...have a —" you tried to say the words but they got caught in your throat.

" I'm a shapeshifter. Are you okay with this?" Larissa asked, her tone turning from seductive to one edged with concern.

You nodded. " Yes. Yes I'm okay. Are you?"

" Yes sweetheart. That's good, because you're making me so hard. Do you mind wetting it up for me? " She asked, lying down. You immediately sat up and pulled at her underwear, her cock sprung free and you threw her underwear to the side.

" Can I?" You asked. Larissa nodded and brought her hand to your hair. You leant down and took her cock in your mouth, licking the precum off the tip, making Larissa shut her eyes and shiver.

" Take it all, sweetheart." Larissa ordered softly. You immediately obeyed, taking Larissas cock in your mouth and wetting it up for her. She moaned and spread her legs out more so you could have a better time kneeling between them. You chocked on her cock and that vibrating sensation made Larissa more eager to be inside of you.

" Can I cum down your throat, baby?" Larissa asked desperately, after a few more minutes. You nodded, unable to speak, you ran your tong along the length of your cock as you swallowed it, tracing her veins. You made eye contact with Larissa which made her moans grow louder, she came with a spasm and a soft cry, you felt her cum spurt down your throat, and you swallowed eagerly, slowing down your pace with your mouth before pulling away, you kissed the tip of her cock and she smiled breathlessley, looking down at you.

" Was that okay?" You asked, growing wetter and wetter by the second.

" You did so well for me, darling. Come here." Larissa smiled ajd pulled you to straddle her lap. You gulped because Larissa was already growing hard again, her cock poking your thigh gently.

" Can I take it?" You asked, your breath hitching when Larissa began to slowly unbutton your shirt, revealing your chest to her. She punched both of your nipples and rolled them between her fingers, making you squirm on top of her. She smiled and eventually brought a hand down to your wet cunt, running two digits up your folds, collecting your arousal. She sucked on her fingers and nodded.

" Go ahead, sweetheart. You taste so good for me. So wet." She helped align her cock with your glistening pussy and you felt the tip of the cock enter you. You groaned slightly at the stretched and inched yourself down her cock.

" God, Larissa, fuck." You breathed out. " You're so big." You whimpered.

" You're doing so well, darling. So good for me. Take it all." She said, you grasped Larissas hands, her fingers entertwining with yours.

You moaned as you entered her entirely, her whole cock in your cunt, twitching against your walls.

" Well done darling. Move when you're ready." Larissa squeezed your hands gently.

After a few moments of letting your body adjust, you began to move your hips back and forth, eventually lifting your body up and down on Larissa's cock. You moaned and Larissa bucked her hips up, instinctively trying to speed up your movements.

" Oh! Larissa..." You cried out, feeling the tip of her cock hit that sweet spot inside if you.

Desperate for more, you began moving faster, squeezing Larissa's hands tighter and tighter, you shut your eyes and let the feeling of your lover inside of you consume you entirely.

" Fuck, baby." Larissa moaned, your cheeks burned and you opened your eyes slightly to see that Larissa's cheeks had turned red. Her eyes were shut slightly and her body bucked up against you. She lifted her hips and thrusted inside of you, assisted by your rapid movements.

" Rissa, I'm going to cum." You moaned out.

" Me too." Larissa opened her eyes to look at you.

" Cum inside me. Please." You begged, your legs weakening by the urgent intensity of the moment.

At that, you felt Larissa come inside of you, her thick liquid coating your walls and the feeling sending you off the edge. You cried Larissa's name, her hands quickly supported your almost-failing body, she held onto you and rode out her high as you rode out your own.

When you both eventually began to calm down, Larissa helped you up and you felt her cock slip out of you, her cum seemed to be triclking out of you too, Larissa smiled and got up, carrying you to the bathroom where she cleaned you up. She cleaned you and herself up and patted the sweat off your face with a cloth.

" You did so well. Are you okay?" She asked, caressing your cheek.

You smiled contently and kissed Larissa's hand. " Yes. Are you?"

Larissa nodded and smiled, helping you into your pajamas and skipping on her clothes too. She brought you to the bed and left you there until coming back with two glasses of water.

" Here we are, sweetheart." Larissa sat down beside you and handed you your water.

You both took sips of your waters and larissa placed the cups down on the bedside table. She came to hold you gently against her chest and she ran her fingers through your hair in a comforting manner.

" Tired?" She asked.

" A little."

" Maybe we should have an early night, mm?" Larissa pulled the covers over the both of you and kissed your cheek. You nodded and smiled up at her.

" Goodnight." You kissed Larissa gently.

Larissa smiled down at you. " Goodnight, darling."

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I wrote some horny shit, i apologise. Requests are open, i can do more kinky stuff idk????

[veryberryjelly]

damp hands

pairing : wednesday addams x fem!reader

🎃 - rain walks

👻 - " your hands are cold

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

it wasnt intentionally a walk in the rain, but you loved walking through the forest outside of nevermore in the fall and a little bit of rain was not about to stop you.

especially since this was one of the walks wednesday had agreed to join you on.

more often than not she opted out of the walks you offered, preferring to stay in her dorm room and work on her writing.

but recently whenever you offered she took you up on it and you both took a stroll through the forest.

sometimes in silence.

sometimes talking about nothing and everything all at once.

today was one of the silent walks you both cherished.

the only sound between the two of you was the crunching of leaves below your boots.

you didnt know how comforting silence could be until you met wednesday.

when you were younger there was nothing but silence in your house and it was unsettling.

your parents never talked to each other... or you, so when you moved out to go to nevermore and were suddenly surrounded by people and sound it became a sort of comfort blanket.

but being with wednesday allowed the silence to be comforting again.

because you knew it wasnt to do with spite or hatred, but she was just a quiet person.

and watching her interact with other people had brought you to believe that she was only quiet with the people she was close to.

you had seen her snap and bite at other people but never at you.

with you she was serene and it was like a badge of honour.

you had been walking for about twenty minute before either of you made any sort of move to talk to do anything other than wander.

surprisingly it was wednesday that made the move, reaching her delicate hand over to slide it into yours, aided by the fact both of your hands were damp with rain.

you didnt say anything to her, instead just gave her hand a small squeeze and continued on the bridge over the lake.

" your hands are cold " wednesday said, her voice breaking the half hour long silence in one of the best ways possible.

" i'm sorry " you replied, unsure how else to reply.

" it's okay. i like it "

[wol-fica]

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤- ℙ𝕋𝟙𝟘

pairings - wednesdayaddams x fem!reader

summary - sharing a lovely night together :)

warnings - face melting, fluff

an - missed these two, and i missed writing :D

—————————

It was a hot day, the sun blaring so aggressively in New Jersey that even the concrete wanted to melt your shoes if you were to step outside. Inside a large mansion that overlooked a cliff in the woods, two people were curled up together watching a horror movie in their living room.

You hummed softly, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of your wife’s shirt. Her scent filled your nose, making you smile in contentment of being able to hold her so close to you. You both are laid on the couch, Wednesday sort of leaning up against the arm while she let you bury yourself into her stomach. 

Your arms were hooked under her back, giving yourself something to hold while her legs were crossed over your back, her heels slightly digging into your lower back. Her fingers were threaded into your hair, nails absentmindedly scratching at your scalp while her focus was on the gorey film in front of her. 

“Mmmph.” You huffed, turning your face into her stomach when you saw a murder scene show up. 

“Pitiful, it’s just blood.” Wednesday murmured, still massaging your head, “You need to build up your tolerance.”

“I’m not a fan of seeing someone getting their face blown off.” You replied, voice muffled by her shirt, “It’s not my favorite pastime.”

“Technically it’s getting sawed off.” She teased, squeezing your sides with her thighs, “There are no explosives.”

“Sawed, blown, whatever. It’s still a face getting removed and I ain’t all for that.” You said, blowing hot air on her stomach, “I like my face on my….face I guess.”

She was silent, choosing to look down at you with a head tilt. She pondered for a moment, then nodded and turned back to the tv. 

“I suppose that is reasonable.”

You chuckled, lifting your head to look up. Her side profile was beautiful to you, her sharp jaw and freckle-tanned skin causing your heart to swoon. 

“I prefer romance films.” You said, staring at her with a love struck smile. 

She cringed, her nose scrunching cutely and her eyes filling with disgust, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not Nes?” You asked, moving up until you were resting on her chest, “If I can respect horror, you can respect romance.”

“I don’t appreciate all of the extensive kissing and cuddling they put into those films, it’s mortifying.” Wednesday grumbled, letting her arms hang around your shoulders, “I don’t like seeing it, or hearing it, or any of it.”

You hummed with a nod, pushing yourself up on your hands so you hovered over her. She turned to look up at you, her black eyes meeting yours immediately. You giggled at her bored look, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You say you don’t like the cheesy stuff, yet here we are.” You murmured, looking at her lovingly, “Being all cheesy.”

“You are the exception, you’re my spouse.” 

“So it’s just because we’re married? Not cause you love me or anything.” You teased, smirking at her annoyed state. 

“Since you are my spouse, and I went through the horrendous process of marriage,” Wednesday started, fixing the neck of your shirt, “Then I would think that shows my affection for you.”

“Ehhhh…” You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m not feeling the affection.”

A scream from the movie caught Wednesday’s attention, her eyes snapping to the screen for a second. You rubbed your thumb on her side, trying to gain her focus back to what you wanted. She sighed, rolling her eyes before reaching up and pulling you down into a deep kiss. 

“Mmm.” You said against her lips, slightly surprised from the force she produced, before gasping when she pulled you down to fully lay on her. 

Her legs went around you, locking you in place while you both made out. Her lips made your body feel like it was on fire, her touch doing just the same. Her tongue prodded at your mouth, silently asking for permission to enter you. You complied, parting your lips to let her warm muscle explore your mouth. She eventually parted from you, toon soon for your liking, and gave you an unimpressed look. 

“Is that enough to show you my affection?” She asked, fixing your ruffled hair.

You licked your lips, seeming to think for a moment before leaning in to kiss her nose. 

“I dunno, I think you need to do a few more times to convince me.” You whispered, staring into her glossy-black eyes.

“Insufferable.” Wednesday breathed before pulling you back in.

So much for the horror movie. 

—————————————

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

[nymphie-mama]

just friends

pairing xavier thorpe x fwb!reader

summary in which some friends with benefits are meant to be more

warnings friends with benefits, jealously, smut [rough sex, unprotected piv (don’t try this at home),

request Omg okay so this is the most specific request ever but I love your writing and can’t stop thinking about this concept! So they’re all on summer vacation, and Xavier gets a fwb (reader) to try and get over Wednesday (they aren’t a normie), then Xavier goes back to Nevermore, reader goes to visit him one weekend, meet Wednesday and gets super jealous, but then it ends in fluff and/or smut, where Xavier says he doesn’t like Wednesday anymore cos he’s into you 😫😳 -anon

i no longer support percy hynes white and i do not write for xavier thorpe anymore.

a/n not going to lie, it’s a little confusing. but it was too good to pass up. i decided to change it a little bit, but i hope you (lovely anon) still like it! i must admit this ended up way longer than i expected, i got a little carried away.

it’s safe to say you had a fun summer. a messy situation with xavier turned into a messy situationship.

xay, one of your best friends, somehow turned into your friend with benefits. a one time thing turned into a one, two, maybe ten, fifteen, time thing. no one fucked like xavier thorpe. no one knew you like xavier thorpe.

ajax, the only other person who knew about your fling, kept telling you that xavier was using you. to get over wednesday addams. maybe you knew that too, but xay was good at hiding it.

until fall came around.

your bi-nightly hookups quickly turned into weekly. xavier found himself always occupied, usually with Ms. Addams. you felt like maybe you didn’t have a right to be upset. but you also knew that you felt so much more between you two, more than just sex.

xay 11:27 pm

wanna come by?

you were honestly surprised, seeing this text pop up on your phone. you wanted to say no. you just about did

y/n 11:28 pm

why don’t you ask wednesday instead?

you knew it wasn’t right. to be petty. you didn’t have the right to be mad, right?

xay 11:31 pm

come over here so i can fix your attitude

you hesitated. but you can’t say no to xavier anyway. so within the next few minutes you were sneaking into the artists dorm room.

“you came,” he said, smiling. you didn’t reply, but instead, you walked over to xavier’s tall frame.

you wanted to ignore it. the way you knew he had feelings for wednesday. get this over with and go.

so, you wasted no time feelings under his shirt. kissing his neck and collarbones. tugging at his hair the way he liked. he didn’t complain, undressing you to your bra and underwear and pushing you flat onto the bed.

when it came to xavier, it didn’t take much to get that familiar pool between you thighs.

“xavier, just fuck me,” you said, waiting more impatiently than ever.

“needy.”

nonetheless, your underwear was discarded with haste, in a pile with your other clothes. xavier removed his own clothes and aligned himself with your entrance.

he bottomed out in you with one quick motion, making you both groan.

while letting you adjust, xavier thought it appropriate to say,

“you’re mine, y’know? i don’t care about her as anything more than a friend.”

you scoffed, “prove it.”

he scoffed too, almost mimicking you. he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed back into you abruptly. you opened your mouth to scream, and he didn’t hesitate to bring his hand to you mouth. his other hand was on your hip, keeping you realícele still while he slammed into you ruthlessly.

he found a quick pace that had your eyes rolling back within seconds. every thrust hit your g spot and made your screams and whines louder.

“fuck,” he said through strained lips, “feel so good wrapped around me, baby.”

you started to feel the haze come over you, getting lost in his voice and his movement. your name sounded so good falling from his lips.

his hand came away from your mouth, down to rub his name into your clit.

without his hand covering you, your cries were no longer muffled. you didn’t bother trying to hide them, it felt so good.

“i hope she comes down here and hears you,” he whispered into your ear, “how pretty you get for me.”

the room was filled with mixed smells and sounds. you were begging and pleading with him, for what, you don’t know. sweat poured down both of your faces while xavier rut into you, kissed you, groped you. touched you any way he could.

“god, i need you so bad,” he’d said, gripping your hips so you could meet him with his hits.

that band in your stomach was tightening and tears were forming in your eyes. you hair was surely ruined by now, your hips and neck probably bruised from xavier’s handling of you.

“xay,” you whined for the unpteenth time this evening, “so good- feels so good, pretty boy.”

“mhmmm- you were made for me-“

your breathing was shallow and short, almost synchronized with him.

“please, xay. please, please, please,” you were whining. begging, for something you knew you’d get. were about to get.

“i know, angel. let go, it’s okay,” he said. his strokes were getting sloppier and slightly slower. he was chasing his own release.

like he was gospel, you body reacted with his words. something beautiful washed over you. he wiped the few tears that stained your face, and let himself calm down.

his found a new, easier rhythm. with just a few thrusts, he was shooting his cum over your stomach, loving the little mess he made on you.

he cleaned you up, like he always did. gave you new clothes. you got up to leave quicker than normal, without an extra word.

“don’t go,” he said, following after you and reaching for your hips again (he quickly let go and giggled as you winced). “i meant what i said. i’m over her. i want you.”

“let’s lay down,” you said. you were both gleaming as you laid down next to each other. you talked everything out and then went to sleep in each other’s arms.

wednesday masterlist

[wednesdayincorrectquotespt]

Y/n: I left instructions for everyone while I’m gone.

Wednesday: Mine just says “Wednesday, no.”

Y/n: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

[sweaterweatherever]

If you are taking request, could you write an enemies to lovers with ajax? Like, expand on what you wrote in his post?

Do me a favour (Ajax Petropolus x Reader)

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, sub Ajax, making out, mentions of getting high, thigh riding. Reader is judgy and bitchy. I wanted to hit her halfway. Reader is a vampire, but it’s mentioned like two times. Kind of an enemies to lovers, except Ajax refuses to get into it. And yes, I stand by thinking this boy has got to have somewhat initiative because did you see the date he got to the Rave’n? AGED UP CHARACTERS.

A/N: I really wanted to subvert the trope of enemies to lovers when it comes to smut. We usually get angry sex and the character domming the reader hard, and it’s cool, I like it, but I thought combining these two requests could be nice. Man, drunk me is wordy.

Requested: Yes, expansion in headcanons and Subby Ajax. I tried my best with the second.

“Oh, my god! Ajax is like! So cute, you guys! He is so tall and dreamy, and the way he puts his arms around me…!” Enid blabbered. You gave Wednesday a look, rolling your eyes. Wednesday glowered, which, considering she had like three facial expressions (Murderous rage, homicidal maniac and neutral serial killer, as you had affectionately named them) was just about an agreement.

“I don’t get what you see in him.” You said, laying back on her bed and doing some pretty hard gymnastics to keep painting your nails without messing up the covers. “He is just so…” It was not your intention to offend your friend by saying the guy she was dating was lame, but that was what came to mind.

Ajax was pretty normal, the only thing he had going on was the fact he was a stoner and tall. You didn’t approve of the first, and there were plenty of guys with the second on Nevermore. The bar was too low, really. He had a bland personality and wasn’t a great student either. It wasn’t like there was anything to dislike because he was the most boring boy on earth. Ugh, it was always the prettiest girls like Enid with the most dull boys.

“Me either. He’s just so…” Wednesday said, clearly trying to find a word that described her feelings. Then, with a shudder of disgust, she said the word. “Normal.”

You couldn’t agree more, but didn’t say anything, so Enid didn’t get upset. Besides, your dislike of Ajax was totally baseless because he treated Enid like a goddess. You kept quiet. Until Wednesday came to get you in the middle of the night because Ajax and her had broken up.

“She is… Emotional.” Wednesday explained to you. Her facial expression was definitely bordering dangerous levels of murderous rage. “I don’t know how to help, I already offered to bring her his head on a platter, the old Perseus style.”

“That's racist.” You said to her, frowning. “I’m in.”

“Go see her, please.” And so, that meant you made your way to the dorm, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, Wednesday fretting uncomfortably around you. You held Enid until she fell asleep, her body wrecking with sobs.

“We are killing this asshole.” You muttered to her, adjusting your sunglasses as you exited the room.

“I’ll get the sword, you go for the mirror.” And that’s how it got started. Every time you found yourself near Ajax, you sniffled in disgust. Wednesday glowered in a menacing fashion, both of you shielding Enid from him. You couldn’t help it. Your reaction was visceral. When you saw the face Enid made when she looked at him, eyes lowering to her shoes, something tugged in your stomach. This mediocre guy had crushed your friend’s heart, and Enid was too kind to say anything to him, even going so far as telling you to stop glowering at him.

The breakup took a toll on her. Before, she was practically glowing, but now even her bright-colored clothes and makeup seemed to lose their shimmer. The first weeks were hard, but after a month she seemed to be over it. You remembered, though. Your opinion of Ajax had hit a new low, and so, you avoided him like the plague. It wasn’t really notorious because you weren’t his biggest fan before.

Two whole months after the fact, you sat down to lunch with the girls and your smile froze on your face. In the table in front of yours, Ajax was sitting down with Xavier, eyes glued to Enid’s back. You could only tell because you were sitting in front of her. Maybe it was a fluke? You waited a bit, but he wasn’t stopping. He even made eye contact with you, giving a tiny smile. The nerve of this guy!

“Oh my god, the guy can’t stop staring.” You whispered to Wednesday, when Enid was distracted with her phone. “Maybe he wants to get back with her?”

“We’ll nip that in the bud.” She turned to face him and gave him her most homicidal grin. Ajax quickly averted his gaze, looking properly cowered.

“Wednesday! Y/N!” Enid snapped her fingers playfully. “What are you two looking at?”

“Nothing.” You quickly said, but it was too late, she was already turning around.

“You guys have to stop with the whole hating Ajax thing. We have been texting and decided we want to be friends!” Enid chastised, clapping happily. Wednesday blinked. You knew her well enough to know that when Enid talked, she listened. And so, having lost your biggest ally, you had to let it go.

“Fine.” You grumbled. “As long as I don’t have to talk to him that much…” Oh, Ajax might have won this battle, but you would win the war. You lifted your head, catching him staring once again. You waited until he met your eyes, just so you could give him a smile and a cheeky wave, popping your fangs a little and almost making him spit out the water he was drinking.

You had to give it to him, the little shit was always one step ahead of you. That’s what you realized when you got called into the principal’s office just so they could tell you got a new job. Apparently you were to tutor Ajax in Botanic, a class in which you were surpassed both by Bianca and Wednesday in terms of skill. The excuse had been that Wednesday didn’t have the people skills necessary and Bianca refused, citing schedule conflicts. Besides, Ajax had asked Bianca before, and when she said no, he prompted your name to the principal.

You walked straight to him when you got out of the meeting, face so hot from your fit of temper, you could feel smoke coming out of your ears. You had tried saying no, but the principal wasn’t having it. They had explained one tutor had already refused, and you didn’t have schedule conflicts like her. You weren’t getting out of it.

“What game do you think you are playing?” You asked him, and he had the nerve to look confused. Xavier gave you a weird look. You ignored him too, eyes attached to Ajax. “You asked the principal for me to tutor you. Why?”

“Umm… because I suck at Botanic and you don’t?” Ajax peered at you, a small smile on his lips. Xavier snickered. You paid him no mind.

“Fine.” You eyed him, distrust clear in your face. "Meet me tomorrow in the library. We’ll go over the material for this week. Three o’clock.” You walked away, looking over your shoulder as you did so. Might be showing weakness, but you trusted him only as far as you could throw him.

“That went over well.” Xavier whistled, looking at your retreating form.

“Oh, I will win her over, you just watch.” Ajax punched him in the arm. “Maybe then she will smile at me.”

“Keep dreaming, Ajax. Girl has it out for you since you and Enid…” Xavier started saying, quickly trailing off when Ajax got a dopey look in his eyes.

“Yeah, but that only shows she is loyal. I like it.” Ajax defended you.

“You are delusional.”

The next day found you sitting in the library with some diagrams you had printed and a copy of your notes, ordered by date. You had two different practice tests because you were the kind of person who went all out. You took your education very seriously.

Ajax was right on time, looking for you in the different tables until you waved him over. He was holding two coffee cups, looking a little awkward out of uniform. He was in a hoodie and a nice pair of jeans. Not like you were paying attention or anything.

“Here. I got you a latte.” He said, sliding it over to you. You kept your expression closed off, not wanting to betray your real thoughts.

“Thank you. It was nice of you.” You deadpanned.

“Oh, tough crowd, aren’t you?” Ajax didn’t seem deterred in the very least. You grabbed the latte, eyes going wide when you sipped it and realized it was just the way you usually took it.

“Oh, so you are a talker. I don’t like it.” You slid a pen and one of the tests towards him. You were taking your questions to the grave. “Solve this, just to know where we are.”

He kept quiet, slowly filling out the test. Ajax’s brows were furrowed in concentration, lips pursed, a hint of teeth appearing sometimes when he bit his pencil. Without anything else to do, you kept watch of him. You noted with interest the way he didn’t seem to hesitate on filling up the diagrams, easily identifying the parts of plants you had picked on purpose because they were the hardest to do.

You went to grab the sheet at the same time Ajax was going to hand it to you, quickly, too quickly. Your hand ended up brushing his, and a confused, sinking feeling took place on your stomach. Were you imagining it, or there had been a spark? You pulled the sheet out of his grasp, desperate to stop this strange feeling, and wincing when the sudden move made it so you cut yourself with the paper.

You lifted your index finger to your mouth, sucking the blood from it. Your fangs went down automatically at the smell of blood, uncaring it was your own.

“Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Ajax eyes darted from your finger, to your mouth, to your eyes. In that specific order. When you met them, unafraid, he scratched his neck, cheeks going red and quickly averted his gaze. You smirked. Was he afraid of you? Good.

“I’m fine. Give me five to check this, and we will talk about weak areas.” You stated. The test was pretty good for someone who claimed to need tutoring. Ajax was passing, even with a good grade. That made you tilt your head a little. The few errors you could see were pretty easy to fix, and weird compared to his level of compression of the rest of the subject.

You felt watched, weirdly enough. But every time you lifted your eyes, Ajax was staring at his phone or at the table, eyes never stopping on you. It was unsettling. What did he want?

You made up your mind when you got to the end of the practice test. You would call him bluff.

The tutoring session kept going, with you on your best behavior. You gave him the second practice test for homework and decided to meet again on Friday.

“Okay, I can work with this. You see the first question here, you got this one wrong. Not only that, but you said Nightshades’s properties included being poisonous, when it’s actually the contrary.” You blatantly lied. The lie was so evident, Ajax should jump to correct you with the level of knowledge he had displayed. But interesting enough, he didn’t. He kept his eyes politely trained on the first question, right where you were underlining with your pen. You were going to get to the bottom of this, you decided then. What could he possibly be gaining with this? “Oh, sorry, it was a slip of the tongue, I meant to circle the fifth question, forget what I said. You were right.”

To that tutoring session, Ajax showed up with a box of your favorite candy, munching on them and offering you one casually.

“Oh, I love these!” You smiled at him, in a truly involuntary way. You quickly cleared your throat, focusing on the homework. “So, page six…”

Ajax smiled at you, looking far too happy for someone who was about to be assigned additional homework on top of what he already had.

“Here.” He pressed the bag of candy against your hand. “Have them, I don’t like them much.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Why did you get them, then?”

“They were on sale.” Ajax quickly answered.

“At the vending machine?” You perched yourself on the chair, searching his face for any sign of deceit. As usual, he avoided your eyes. But you were unable to tell if it was from his nervousness about his powers or because he was lying.

“Does it matter?”

“Why are you giving me things?” You asked, rubbing at the bridge of your nose. A headache was starting, you could tell. “First the coffee, now the candy…”

“Umm, maybe because you are doing me a huge favor by cutting your study hours to help me pass?” Ajax offered, looking sheepish.

“You don’t need me for that.” You muttered, but humored him and started going over the errors on his homework, getting more sure with each one that this guy was smarter than he looked.

You didn't understand why you didn’t put a stop to it right then. You kept repeating to yourself you weren’t sure Ajax was faking his weakness in the subject, you needed more evidence. But thing was, you could just ask Wednesday to get you the evidence and call it a day anytime. And yet, you kept going back to him. You tried to rationalize it, saying it had been a while since a boy showed interest in you, that you liked the attention. You also said that the principal was making you do this, that it wasn’t like you went back to him every week out of your own accord. But you had also started to look for him out of tutoring, smiling at him in the hallways, making small talk when he was near. Something was wrong with you.

Why did your heart flutter every time he pressed a tiny trinket in your hand? Why didn’t you pull away, why did you smile at him?

You were unable to keep denying the truth when, under the pretense of fixing his tie in the middle of a tutoring session, you placed your hand on his chest. Ajax always wore his uniform messily, and it drove you up the wall. This time, something about the way his tie was messily knotted called to you, something told you to fix it for him.

Ajax didn’t pull away, transfixed by the way your fingers grabbed at the item. You unknotted it, going on your tip toes to take it off, lacing it over your neck and tied a Windsor, before placing it over his head and adjusting it. Your hands lingered, adjusting the knot, once, twice times too many.

You looked up, lips parted. For the first time in a while, you made eye contact. But this time, you were the one who blushed and looked away.

“I… I… I got to go.” You grabbed at your backpack, almost running out of the library.

“Y/N, wait…” Ajax called out. You didn’t listen. You were too preoccupied with your newly discovered feelings. You had a crush on Ajax. No. That didn't sound right. This wasn’t a crush. It was something worse. You were in love with Ajax. The plainest, most undeserving of Enid, boy in the school.

Your feet took you to your friend's room, without needing to think about it. You knew the school like the back of your hand, and right now, you needed something only Wednesday could give you. Cold, hard truth.

You knocked on the door, frantic, hoping Enid was somewhere else. She could never find out about this, it would mean destroying your friendship. God, why? Under this new light, your conduct looked terrible. Enid would think you had been trying to break them up from the start. No, she could never find out. You needed to fix this.

“Y/N.” Wednesday said, from her place in front of the writing machine. “What do you want? You sounded pretty desperate.” You looked for Thing, assuming he must have been the one to open you the door, giving him a little wave. He responded to it, and you smiled a little, before starting to pick at your nail beds.

“I might need some cognitive recalibration, Wednesday. Could you slap me, please?” You asked, and Wednesday rolled her eyes.

“What has brought on this fit of dramatics? Surely, Enid is better prepared than me to deal with it?” Wednesday rose, all elegance.

“I fucked up. I’m in love with Ajax.” Wednesday raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Plainest boy on earth? Turns out he can really turn on the charm offensive, it was really insidious, he got inside my head, with his stupid jokes, and stupid smile and perfect eyes…” You groaned in frustration. “Ugh, see? Please, slap me, and let’s see if it goes away because I won’t fuck up my friendship with Enid over a boy, especially if he is plainest that white bread, untoasted.”

“I think it is a bit late for that.” Wednesday said, looking behind you. You turned, heart beating wildly.

“Enid!” You screeched. The werewolf looked impassible, expression blank. This girl had been the first friend you had made at Nevermore, in your orientation on freshman year, when you had been terrified by strangers and jumpy at every sudden move, overwhelmed by your recently awakened senses. Enid had approached you then, kind and gentle, making sure of not scaring you, and befriended you swiftly. She had helped you grow into your powers, and become more confident in yourself. You owed her everything you had. If you had to choose, your heart would break, but you would force yourself to forget Ajax. You would rather be heartbroken than without her. You loved her like a sister, and so, if she asked you to help her get back with him, you would.

“Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to, I swear I won’t ever look at him again, hell, if you want me to stop tutoring him I will, I never wanted this, you have to believe me, when you guys were together I was trying to break you up, but not from why you think it is! I didn’t want him then, I don’t want him now!” You begged, tears prickling at your eyes, not noticing how a tiny smile started to make its way on the other girl’s face. You would have kept blabbering, totally uncontrolled, if not for the interruption.

“Y/N.” Enid said, and your jaw clicked with how fast your mouth shut itself. “I was the one who broke up with him.”

You opened and closed your mouth, looking at Wednesday, who looked as dumbfounded as you were.

“But… But… You cried so much… And we gave him so much shit!”

“Don’t be mad at me, okay?” Enid raised her hands in surrender, looking between Wednesday and you. “I felt terrible because I had a crush on someone else! That’s why we broke up! I was just too scared to tell you guys.”

“Oh.” You sat down on one of the beds. “Oh.”

“Ajax has already forgiven me.” Enid sat next to you, passing an arm over your shoulders. “You can have him if you like, I know you genuinely weren’t trying to break us up, so you could steal him from me, you know? You were looking out for me.” Then, she turned to look at Wednesday, eyes full of love. “You both were.”

It was too much. You promptly started bawling your eyes out, relieved. Enid hugged you and Wednesday placed a hesitant hand on your shoulder. You cried even harder.

“Oh, stop it.” She said, pinching you hard on the arm and making you yelp. “There, a reality check. If you want that plain boy, even if I can fathom why, you can have him. Enid already authorized it, and he trails after you like a lovesick puppy. That must be enough to put an end to your dramatics.”

“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed. “That was rude.”

You started laughing uncontrollably. Everything was going to be fine. You just had to deal with Ajax, but that could wait until tomorrow.

The next day, you woke up with a pep in your step. You did your hair and make up, putting on your nicest outfit. After breakfast, you sought Ajax out. He was sitting with Xavier on the grass near the woods, headphones on. Xavier was drawing something and leveled you with an unimpressed glance. You ignored him.

“Ajax.” You smiled. “Walk with me?” He looked adorable this morning, in a light blue hoodie with a matching beanie. The butterflies in your stomach started making their appearance once more. Ajax quickly found his feet, and started following you.

Once you got far enough so that Xavier wasn’t in hearing distance, you turned.

“You wanted my attention, didn't you?” Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and you couldn’t help but wring your hands in front of you. Remembering that was the signature gesture of the house elves in the Harry Potter franchise, you quickly dropped it, hands coming nervously to brush at the sides of your jeans. You didn’t want to look like a house elf, you wanted Ajax to think you were cool.

“What?” Ajax asked, blinking at you. “What are you talking about?”

You kept walking, this time by his side.

“You didn’t have a need for a tutor in Botanic, Ajax. Your grades are almost as good as mine.” This piece of information had come from Wednesday, who, for someone who hated gossip, knew her fair amount of it. Maybe Enid was rubbing on her.

“Where are we going?” Ajax deflected, looking away from you.

“My room.” You answered, even when you could feel the blush that was starting to form on your cheeks. “You wanted my attention.”

“I did.” He admitted, blushing. Then, looking like he was about to faint, he made eye contact with you. “What are we…?”

“We are going to have a talk about valuing people’s time and then, if you are good, we might make out.” You could feel your blush go darker, and you closed your eyes, remembering Enid’s advice. Be bold. Be blunt. Ajax wouldn’t know subtlety even if it hit him in the face. She should know what she was talking about because she had dated him. Hesitantly, your hand went to grab his. Ajax’s fingers opened, accepting yours, sliding in between them. His hand was warm, and a little sweaty. You found it so endearing, you wanted to kiss him. Ugh, was love supposed to feel like this? You trusted Wednesday, you did, and so, you were pretty sure Ajax liked you back. But still, you were nervous.

“Wait, so you like me? You are not…mad?” Ajax turns to face you, hesitantly grabbing your other hand.

“Would you prefer I was mad?” You ask him, carefully schooling your expression.

“I just wanted you to smile at me.” Ajax nervously ran his thumb across your wrist. “You smiled at everyone, but never me. You didn’t like me. ”

“Oh, I didn't want to like you, you infuriating, clueless, handsome, stupid boy.” Ajax looks confused, and you can’t stand his kicked puppy look anymore. So, you press a kiss to his lips, just so he gets it. Ajax parts his lips a bit, allowing you entry, and his hands drop yours, choosing instead to go and circle your waist. You let him pull you closer, so you are flush along his body. You have kissed some people before, from clumsy first kisses to passionate making out just for the sake of it. But this, this has to be the best kiss you have ever had.

“Come on, dorm” You say, unable to stop kissing him. It’s a miracle you managed without a teacher catching you, unable to keep your hands off each other. At first, it's only you, Ajax much more hesitant. But then, when he catches on you want him and that he is allowed to touch you back, his hands are everywhere.

This is what you will say after. You have no clue how things escalated, how one kiss turned into a dozen, how you ended up with that hickey in your neck. How you end up on your back, Ajax’s hip bones digging into your upper thigh, with the way he is kissing and sucking your neck like he was the vampire out of the two of you.

No clue how, or why, he lifts his head, pretty blush on his face and says, “Umm, sorry, can you…?” Ajax wets his lips, suddenly self-conscious. “Umm, maybe, move your leg, sorry. It will go away.”

You don’t get it at first, until you zero exactly into what the weight against your thigh is.

“Can I?” You tease, unable to not do it. Ajax looks too damn good with that blush on, you want it to stay as long as possible. He is sweet, too, leaving all choices in your hands. You had been the one setting the pace, begging him to kiss you everywhere. You like it. It’s a heady feeling, having all this power at your fingertips, but also a responsibility. Ajax is trusting you with his body. “Which direction?” You ask, suddenly serious.

“Excuse me?” Ajax is getting redder by the minute. You can’t help but smile. You want him to feel good, he worked so hard at winning you over, waiting patiently for you to met him halfway. Ajax deserves something nice.

“Away or forward?” You say, pressing your thigh more against his erection, just so he knows what you mean. “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Oh. Forward, maybe? If you want?” He asks, eyes closing. You pass your arms beneath his armpits, locking them behind his back and pulling him back to you. You press a kiss to his jaw, open-mouthed. It’s cute he is into hickeys so much, you think, hearing his whimper. His heart beats wildly, pulse fluttering in your grasp. He smells good, and your gums itch with the urge to bite him, to own him, to make him yours.

“What do you want, Ajax?” You kiss his neck next, dragging your teeth along the carotid. He shivers, but you don’t receive any kind of response. “You just have to say the word.”

“Forward, please.” And you aren’t so cruel as to make him beg, head over heels as you are for him, so you press your thigh lightly against his erection. You intend to take him apart with light touches, playing the long game. But Ajax doesn’t agree. His hips rut against your thigh, harshly, hungrily.

“Greedy.” You mutter, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come on, rub yourself on my thigh, baby boy.” You encourage him, one of your hands dropping to his hips to help him settle into a rhythm and not only desperate, jerky movements.

Ajax shakes, whimpers once again, face going to hide in the crook of your neck. You scratch at his nape, surprised when something cold touches the tips of your finger. A tiny, bifid tongue. His snakes.

You keep your cool, closing your eyes just in case. You will mention it after when Ajax settles down. Determined, you press your thigh a little harder, pulling his face out of your neck, blindly searching for his mouth, pressing kisses all over his face.

When you finally find it, you bite on his lower lip, lightly. Not enough to draw blood, but you have caught him staring at your fangs once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking, when he thought you hated him. Maybe he would like it, you have a hunch about it. And you weren’t wrong because Ajax gives a little shout, hips pushing once, twice, thrice and freezes. His body goes taut, you can feel it against yours and so, you are careful as to not press too much. You don't intend to hurt him, after all. Not yet. You would love to see the face he makes when he comes, but you would rather not end up stoned.

“Shit. Sorry. How embarrassing…” Ajax sounds disappointed in himself, and you don’t want that. Never. In your mind’s eye, you can see his kicked puppy look, how the blush on his cheeks would make its way down his neck. You don’t want his eyes to go all sad, you know your heart would break at his face. It’s for purely selfish reasons, you think to yourself, and smile blindingly.

“That was the hottest thing ever. “ You say, eyes still closed, looking for his cheek, so you can press a kiss there. “Got, like, dozens of fantasy material.”

“Why do you have your eyes closed?” He asks, hand stroking your cheek lightly and steering you back to his mouth. You press a kiss there, too. You can tell Ajax is worried, but he seems unable to contain himself, and he smiles into the kiss. “Did my snakes do…”

“One of them licked me, by your neck. Just in case, I’m not scared or anything, but it would have been hard to explain to the nurse how this happened.” You say, and Ajax laughs. You two would be busted, totally. Your dorm mom would have your head, and probably you would have to speak to the principal. You hear him shuffle around, likely adjusting the beanie.

“You can look now.” His eyes are full of regret, and you want to get rid of the sadness there by any means necessary. “Sorry again.”

“Was cute, you know? Maybe they were curious.” You smile at him, lightly scratching his back. Just like a puppy, Ajax melts against you, offering more of his back to scratch. You don’t know what drug you took, but you smile, again. You just can’t help yourself.

“Aren’t you scared of them?” He hesitates, pulling his face out of your shoulder.

“Ajax, I bit your neck and lips, and I am a vampire. Were you scared?” You ask back, biting your lip a little. You were pretty sure he liked it, judging by his reactions, but you knew having a vampire’s teeth against your throat might be off-putting for some more rational people.

“No, but…” You shush him, placing your index finger against his lips. Ajax playfully bites it, but his eyes are on yours the whole time.

“Unlike dying out of blood loss, stoning is temporary. It’s cool.” You say.

“Cool.” He mutters, but he doesn’t go back to his place near your shoulder. “So…I am… We are…” Ajax can’t find the words, but you know what he is asking.

“Yes, now come here, I wanna cuddle.” You pull him on top of you once more, wrapping your legs around his waist. Ajax just slumps and you sigh happily. This was precisely what you wanted.

[wesstars]

sorry, baby x (i)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: you’re friends-with-benefits with wednesday (maybe a bit more on your part,) and you can’t help but push her buttons a little. wc: 5.2k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, light D/s dynamics, praise, boots, strap-on referred to as both ‘cock’ and ‘strap,’ crying, biting, denial, light choking, begging, reader shushing during sex, all that good stuff. a/n: i’m very rusty. please forgive me haha. title from killing eve. this iiissss inspired by/for someone, you know who you are ;) say hi if you find me!

read part two here!!

masterlist

The last class of the day was always the worst.

Even as the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, casting the quiet classroom in a white gold glow, you could barely focus enough to remember what subject you were in. The instructor droned on about something or other—you were never the best at paying attention, relying on your subconscious and review session to get good grades. How could you listen when the lesson was just so boring, and you could steal the review from a certain Addams later on, anyway? You blinked slowly, trying to yawn discreetly. Calm was the atmosphere, as everyone was nearly falling asleep as the hour stretched on. 

A note fluttered through the air to land gracefully in your lap. 

Meet me after class.

Wednesday’s neat script, immediately recognized, made you grin, and you looked up. You spotted her, sitting next to Enid. Almost as if she could sense you looking, she spared a precious second from her notetaking to cut you a glare that could fell an army. You only laughed, covering your mouth to hopelessly hide your snicker.

The note had given you a bout of deja vu—it all started with a note, really. By virtue of you being Enid’s friend, you started in Wednesday’s peripheral circle, but you were always unafraid to confront her and eagerly prodded her to bicker with you. Enid would roll her eyes once the two of you would start again, but the way Wednesday’s neutral expression seemed to relax just a bit, made you think she didn’t mind as much. 

The first time you gave her a friendly shove during a mock argument nearly had you apologizing, as she’d frozen as soon as your hand touched her shoulder. You didn’t want to actually cross her boundaries, but when she shoved you back, nearly pushing you into a bush, the ice was broken. Your friends now often had to give the two of you the wide berth as the arguments would escalate into shoving and chasing, and one time, almost a full out siege where you were to defend Jericho and Wednesday was to defend Nevermore. 

All of the back and forth you two had was nearly as intense as you and Wednesday each were—she liked that about you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. She liked it enough to drop a note in your lap during class, some three months ago, asking you to meet her in an empty class “for warfare.” You had come with a knife hidden in your sleeve, but it ended up clattering to the floor as Wednesday pulled you in by your tie and bluntly asked you if she could kiss you. Before she could change her mind, you had kissed her hard enough for her own hidden knife to fall to the floor next to yours.

Wednesday Addams didn’t have friends. You, certainly, were not her friend, not in the way you touched her and not in the way she let you. Enid called you friends all the time, but she didn’t know about how Wednesday would pull you into a broom closet and push you down to your knees. You were sure that Wednesday would rather die than have a proper conversation about the… hooking up? late night meet ups? booty calls?? that the two of you were having. But you thought of her as your friend, and decidedly not anything more. You gave a lazy smile as you spotted Wednesday looking at you again. You knew why she had slipped you the note—the last time you’d been at her dorm room, rushing to give her an orgasm before Enid returned, you had stolen her favorite pair of Louboutin boots. You figured that the gods had given the two of you the same shoe size for a reason. No harm, no foul, right? Kicking your feet, you scuffed her shoes against the ground, knowing she could see them, knowing she could recognize them.

The sudden shuffling of books and scraping of chairs broke you out of your reverie. Class was dismissed, and you put away your supplies neatly, watching Wednesday leave first. She didn’t even look at you when she brushed past, but you knew she’d be waiting in the hallway outside. Sure enough, as you hitched your bag higher up on your shoulder, slipping your tie off, you spotted a head of raven dark hair amongst your classmates.

Wednesday looked at you evenly, ignoring all of the students filing out of the room. “You have what is mine.”

“Well, hello to you too,” you smiled brightly. Hearing her monotone voice always made your heart beat in technicolor, something chronic that you probably had to go to the infirmary for. 

She only stared, eyebrows raising a centimeter. Turning to start towards the dorms, she waited for you to catch up to her before saying, “do not play dumber than you already are.”

You shrugged, wide eyed and used to her empty insults. “What do you mean? I’m innocent.”

“No one would ever accuse you of being innocent,” she shot back. “You are a thief, at best.”

“A thief?” You asked, in mock surprise. “What do you mean?”

She pointed down between the two of you, at the red-soled boots on your feet. “Give them back.”

You cackled, unable to keep up your façade any longer. “No.” You made a heart with your hands, winking at Wednesday through it. 

Her hand collided, hard, with your wrist. Her grip was nearly painful, but you just smirked down at her. “I will only ask you once.” Her voice, still flat as usual, had a dangerous edge to it. 

“Make me.” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. You were selfish, always forcing Wednesday’s attention to you. Even though you knew you probably annoyed her to no end, you didn’t know how to stop. Of course, if she ever told you to stop—seriously, not by way of her customary glare—you would. 

You only just had time to finish your thought before Wednesday nearly tore your arm out of its socket, dragging you across the grounds towards your dorm room. How such a small girl was so fast, you had no idea. Before you knew it, you were in front of your room, with Wednesday reaching into your pants pocket to take out your keys and push you inside. 

As soon as the door shut, you could visibly see Wednesday relax, which was saying something. You drew her smaller frame closer, wrapping your arms around her waist. She turned her head to tuck it into your neck, letting out the smallest sigh. Feeling her hand come up to grab the hem of your shirt, you leaned back a little.

“Wednesday.” At your beckon, she unfolded herself from your neck to look up, eyes as dark as wood immediately on your lips.

“This is not forgiveness,” she told you.

You reached for her bag, dropping it and yours to the ground. “Mmm,” you hummed as you tilted your head down to kiss her, slowly, enjoying the burn in your stomach as she kissed you back. “Maybe you’ll forgive me later, after I’m done with you.” She pulled away, giving you an unimpressed look. 

“Arrogance does not become you.”

You just laughed, taking off your jacket, leaving you in your shirt, slacks, and last but not least, Wednesday’s very important boots. Leaning into her space, you nosed along her neck, nipping playfully with sharp teeth. You felt her arms drop back to her sides. “We’ll see about that, Weds.”

This time, she pushed into you first, all soft lips and razor teeth on yours. You sunk down, somewhere in the lowest deep as you kissed her, but your bliss was short lived, broken by your hiss of pain as she bit down on your tongue. Her hands were cold on the back of your neck, trapping you close, and you had no complaints. “Boots. Now.”

“If you want them back so bad,” you muttered, ducking your head to leave a dark bruise on her collarbone, “take them yourself.”

Wednesday put both hands on your shoulders, a glint in her eye the only warning you get. She pushed you, hard, so the backs of your knees hit the bed and you landed on your ass.

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, Weds,” you goaded, even as she grabbed you by your shirt collar.

“I’ll take your ankles off with those shoes,” she snapped lowly, but she let you kiss down her neck again, that pale column of skin too hard for you to resist. You took your time, leaving murky violet constellations, and with each mark that you sucked into her jawline, you heard her breathing grow shakier.

“Alright,” you said amusedly. “Take them off, then.” You bit down on that spot on her neck while pushing her shoulders down, and she gave surprisingly easily, landing with a thud on her knees.

“Do not go too far,” she hissed, trying to push you off, but you kept her there, her narrow shoulders bracketed by your legs. Her gesture was empty; you were confident that she would simply throw you off if she wanted. The many times you’d ended up tossed across the room showed as testament. 

“Sure,” you agreed easily. Leaning in, you whispered, “can I take this off?” You thumbed the lapel of her jacket.

She nodded her assent, even though you could tell she was plotting a way to get you back. You went slow, leaning over her as you slid her jacket off, kissing the crown of her head. 

“Very good,” you whispered into her hair, loosening her tie. Wednesday attempted to suppress her shiver at your words, but you felt it anyway. It gave you the courage to go to her shirt, sliding the buttons open hesitantly. She straightened her back, showing you her simple but elegant black bra, which was probably from some niche French designer and worth more than the boots you stole.

But the look on her face as you slid your hands slowly into that expensive bra was priceless: her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as her lips parted. You squeezed gently, letting out a small moan of your own. She was so soft, and—

“You’re so perfect, Wednesday,” you growled unevenly in her ear, your composure slipping just a fraction. You sealed your lips with hers and thumbed her nipples, licking up against her teeth as soon as she let you. Breaking apart from her for one unbearable second, you stuck your fingers in her mouth, coating them in saliva. The affronted look on her face disappeared quickly as you pinched her nipples again with sticky fingers, the whine she let out going straight through you like whiskey.

She shuffled closer, seemingly content on her knees despite her earlier protest. Her grip was tight on your thighs, bordering on blissfully painful. Wednesday was nearly pulling you off the bed with how hard she was yanking you in to kiss her, teeth clacking with yours. She sat back on her heels and grabbed your ankle. 

“What’re you doing?” You rolled her nipple between your fingers. “Finally getting your—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as she spread her legs, stocking covered knees sliding. She lifted your leg and planted your foot between her thighs, the heavy boot slamming into the ground. You raised an eyebrow, head swimming with the direction she was going. 

Wednesday was a pretty picture in front of you, shirt open, chest flushed, skirt bunched up around her hips. Uncharacteristically demure, she leaned her cheek against your knee, palm sliding up your clothed calf.

“What?” She asked, her turn for faux innocence. “You said to do it yourself, did you not?” Wednesday shimmied forward, her chest up on your shin. 

You felt her start to press up on the laces, something hot and slow, and your mouth went dry. Her knees spread more as she adjusted, her hand grabbing yours to place it on her cheek. She grabbed your belt loops, the pressure on your boot heavy. Just the mere idea of Wednesday’s pussy grinding against your—her—boots was something you could never imagine, but her shiver as she got settled made you nearly combust.

“You’re so needy, my girl…” the words slurred their way out of your mouth, likely more loving and adoring than you’d intended them to be.

“Looks like you’re the one fucking yourself,” she huffed out, a rare twisted grin gracing her face. Wednesday’s head tipped back again, a pleased little exhale falling from her lips as she pressed harder.

You cupped her jaw, pushing her shirt from her shoulder to bite, something possessive, with no inhibition, in you rising to the surface. “You do that to me, darling.”

You shift your boot closer to her, meeting her grinding circles, making her gasp and cry out your name. You were content to watch her like this, chasing her own high on you like some sinful temptation. With just the sound she was making, and her lip, bitten red, you knew she was getting her slick everywhere. Her breaths came harder with each time she pressed herself into the laces, her gentle rocking becoming more and more erratic. You almost wanted to see if she could cum like this, but as her eyes got hazier and her movements more erratic, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“That's enough, Wednesday.” She barely has your clipped tone as a warning before you pull her off your boot, rough as you hoisted her up, but keeping your grip gentle.

“Come here.” Surprisingly, she did as you asked, throwing her clothes off with the air of a girl who knew what she wanted. You watched her, every inch she uncovered sending prickles of heat up your collar. Her panties, thin and damp, landed in your hand, and you knew she saw your jaw clenching when the corner of her mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

You tucked the thin fabric into your pocket and reached for her, her cool skin soothing the burn in your chest. You turned her around to tuck her into you, sitting on your lap. Manhandling her easily, you could feel her muscles, taut from fencing, under your palms. You hooked her knees over yours, and spread your legs. Unable to resist a smirk at her sharp inhale, you kissed up her neck, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear. 

“You look like magic,” you murmured. “So good for me, Wednesday, letting me spread you open like this,” you continued, tilting her head to lean it back on your shoulder. 

“Consider yourself lucky,” she rasped out as you mapped your hands along her ribs, sliding them down her tense stomach to grip her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles. 

With each circle, you pulled your hands higher, close enough to her pussy that your fingers were sticky from her inner thighs. “Oh, I am.”

You cupped her pussy, already feeling her wetness coating your fingers. Forcing her legs wider, you rubbed up and down, purposefully avoiding her warmest spots as your other hand skimmed up to her chest. But you never were able to keep yourself from Wednesday for very long, testing your own patience as much as hers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and as you pushed a finger in, her hand shot up to grab the back of your neck with a quiet oh. You crooked your finger, her slick making it easy on you. Letting your palm graze her clit with every motion, you smiled as her hips lifted, searching for more friction.

You take your time, knowing that Wednesday’s pussy was the softest thing you’d ever touched, and it was likely to remain that way. Pushing another finger in, you made sure to grind your palm against her clit every time you curled your fingers. Her soft noises were enough to have you on your knees, and you would’ve, if she didn't sigh out your name, getting your attention. She squeezed your fingers, jaw tight enough to creak.

“What is it, Weds?”

“I…” Wednesday cut herself off with a whine as your fingers twisted, the high sound shooting straight through your stomach. You beckoned with your fingers, hard, and she keened in your ear.

“I need you to fill me up.”

Her words snapped something already delicate inside of you. You took your fingers out, smearing her slick all on her hips as you flip her over. If you had it your way, you would be able to see her face, but you knew this was her favorite position. You saw her swallow in anticipation as you stepped briefly away from the bed, kicking off those catalytic boots and rummaging under your bed for you and Wednesday’s box.

Everything in the box you kept meticulously clean, knowing Wednesday’s routine of cleanliness. It would only be Wednesday Addams, a contradiction in her black heart, that loved to be as messy in your bed as she was clean in hers. You picked a black strap, one that you two used frequently. Pulling it on and adjusting it, you get on your knees behind her. For a moment, you watched her, captivated by the sight in front of you, grasping her hips. She arched her back, getting comfortable, as if you weren’t already trying not to fold and just take her like a ship to water.

You pushed yourself up against Wednesday, hips flush to her ass, letting the silicone glide against her clit. To her credit, Wednesday’s breath only came out the slightest bit shaky, even as you guided her thighs apart with a knee. You hummed as she pushed herself up onto her forearms to rock back, head turned to look at you. Wednesday had to grind down past your strap for her pussy to touch your thigh, and you laughed lowly as she flushed with the action. She froze.

“What’s wrong?” You rubbed a hand over her lower back, ready to pull away if she gave even the slightest signal.

“Do you…” she swallows, eyes flicking from you to some distant spot in the corner of the room. “Do you not want me to do that?”

For a second, you couldn’t believe your ears. There was a rush of indignation on Wednesday’s behalf, that she could ever think you wouldn’t love her desperation. Then, the wave of understanding broke over you—Wednesday wanted your approval, over an action that was decidedly un-Wednesday-like, and the final flick of her nervous gaze towards you told you that this was important. 

You grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave shadows that you hoped you’d see tomorrow. Anything physical, Wednesday would undoubtedly best you, but this was something you could hold your own on. You pushed her pussy down onto the strap, onto the rough fabric of your slacks. 

“Why would I ever not want you to show me how much you want it, mmm?” Your question was a growl wrought with satisfaction and a winner’s unapologetic glee, and the effort you put into your tone was worth the way the tension vanished from Wednesday’s eyes. She rolled her hips again, her Addams confidence returning, letting you guide her into a smooth rhythm. 

“Besides,” you leaned forward, one hand letting go to come down a hair's breadth from Wednesday's nose. You folded yourself over her body, your tight grip still controlling her hips. “I know you can’t cum like this.”

The whine came unbidden from Wednesday’s throat, high and breathy and perfect. Nevertheless, her hips and keening gasps followed your even rhythm, and you saw her grip on the pillow go white-knuckled.

“I’m pleased with you, my dear. I do love to watch you suffer.” At your words, sunk roughly into her ears like cannonballs on kindling, Wednesday moaned, loud, into the space between the two of you. You ignored the burning torch that her sounds dropped into your lower stomach, choosing to murmur: “you can take it, right?”

“I can take it,” Wednesday whispered back, almost mindlessly. “I can take you,” she continued. “I want it.”

You settle back on your heels, satisfied. The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was only to do with your physical exertion, and nothing with how you felt for the girl under you. I can take you, not I can take it, I want it, not I want you.

You pull your thigh from under her roughly, making her yelp. Reaching around her narrow hips, you trailed your fingers down from her belly button to her clit, rubbing small circles. “Ready?”

Wednesday nodded, another whimper escaping at your touch.

“I need you to tell me yes, Weds.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

You push in, slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust. She was still prepped from your fingers earlier, but you didn’t miss the chance to gather her wetness and smear it against her clit. Wednesday was taking deep breaths beneath you, just like how you taught her the first time you two had used a strap. The rush of endearment you felt for her at that memory was distracting, you decided, and you pushed it away.

You slowed yourself down as your hips were once again up against her ass, hands moving to squeeze her shoulders. You saw her eyes shut tightly, the corners growing shiny. Wednesday always needed a moment once you put the strap in, something you were happy to give her.

She was still inhaling deeply, thighs trembling. “It…”

“It what?”

Wednesday opened her eyes; they were brimming with tears, dark lashes sticky. “It hurts…”

Your body tensed, already about to pull away, but with a surprisingly strong twist, she forced herself back onto you. A whimper rose high from her throat, and you had to take a breath to keep yourself from flipping her around to kiss her right then.

“Hurts good,” she whispered. You close your eyes, near involuntarily. Fuck, this perfect, perfect, girl would ruin you, just as much as you wanted to ruin her. You lean forward, pressing your chest into her back, forearm across her shoulder blades to ground her. 

“How does it hurt, love?”

“It’s—I’m full,” Wednesday gasped out, glossy eyes sliding shut as you shifted on your knees, cock shifting inside. 

“It fills you up, huh?” You breathed into Wednesday’s ear. 

She nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” she said, almost immediately. Experimentally, she swiveled her own hips around, and it made her hiss and bite her lip. “You fill me up.”

You exhaled through your nose, resisting the urge to just grab Wednesday and slam your cock impossibly deeper. “And?”

“And it’s good,” Wednesday whined out. “Hurts good.”

The knot in your chest loosened, the tension in your body broken like a wave. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to hang onto Wednesday’s every word the way that you did. You pulled out almost all the way, and snapped your hips forward, hard, burying yourself into her.

“Good girl.”

Wednesday let out a breath that bordered on a moan, and you smirked to yourself. Maybe she was right, and the arrogance was getting to your head, but you couldn’t help it. You set on a steady pace, gently brushing one of her braids aside to grasp the back of her neck. You felt yourself slipping into it, drunk on the way she let you touch her, your world tunneling down to just Wednesday—everything was Wednesday. 

Every time you pushed in, it was punctuated by her gasps, and you could feel her breathing start to grow uneven. It stirred up something innately protective in you, for Wednesday. Her shoulders were shaking, tension pulling her taut. 

“Wednesday, baby,” a pet name she would only tolerate in her hazy, lust filled state, “I need you to breathe for me, alright?” You slowed down, following your intuition on what she needed.

Still flush to her back, you listened to her stuttering inhales, deeper but not enough for her to catch her breath. “Shhh,” you cooed low into her ear, covering her eyes, and taking her hand, still tight on the pillow. “Breathe, my love.” Inexplicably, Wednesday let go of the pillowcase and intertwined your fingers, squeezing your hand and your heart tightly. She listened to you, for once, slowing down and softening her breaths. You could feel her tears on your palm, and you shushed her again, pressing kisses on her temple where her hair stuck to her forehead.

“Alright?” You slid your hand away, watching her eyes carefully.

She nodded. Skimming your fingers along her cheekbone, you let the warmth in your heart for the smaller girl seep into your words.

“Just say the word, Wednesday, and we’re done.”

“No,” she murmured back. “If you stop now, I’ll throw you out the balcony.” Though she was out of breath, a sticky, flushed mess under you, you had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. You smiled.

You pick up your rhythm again, this time covering her smaller body with yours again to suck hickies into the back of her neck. Your other hand brushed down between her thighs to rub her clit in circles—she was so wet that it was hard to keep up with your thrusts, but it was worth the choked cry that escaped from her throat as you hit that spot, her fingers tightening around yours. 

Wednesday arched her back into you, burgundy lips bitten blood red right before your eyes. “Keep going,” she told you. You had no intention of stopping, watching a flush bloom on her neck as you kept up your ruthless pace. 

But despite that, you wanted to take your time with her. Every time she would tense up, you would slow down, making it impossible for her to reach that peak you knew she wanted. You forced yourself to slow down on both her pussy and her clit, just as she was starting to shake, and in spite of herself, she cried out in frustration, a tear slipping free. 

“Sorry, baby.” Your tone edged on cruel, desperately needing to see how much she could handle. “I know you can handle it, just for me, okay?” Strap still fully inside, you bent to kiss the juncture of her neck, lips and teeth leaving a bruise. Her skin was hot to your touch, even though your shirt. You bit down again, matching all of your other marks that graced her skin.

Wednesday whined again, inhibition cracking faster by the second. “Don’t stop…”

“Don’t stop what?” You asked, voice turned mocking. “Use your words.” You reached up to clasp the back of her neck, rubbing the tension out. “And be good.”

Her breath quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another tear rolled through her mascara. “Don’t stop…”

“C’mon,” you cajoled, hand coming around her neck to squeeze her throat. “C’mon, my love.”

“Please… don’t stop fucking me.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and she mewled as you nuzzled your lips against her shoulder, your fingers starting up on her clit again.

A shiver shot up your spine, making you curl protectively around Wednesday, the hot burn of possessiveness, to mark her again, near unbearable.. “Anything you want, darling.” You slammed back into her, hard enough to push the both of you up the bed. One of her hands grasped at your forearm, pulling your grip from her neck. She wrapped your arm across her shoulders. Your breathing came hard, but you didn’t stop, each whine in your ear making your head spin. You had no idea how much time was passing, or if it was even night or day; your entire world was hazy and fuzzed with raven black.

“I’m—” Wednesday cut herself off, biting down on your arm for a moment, leaving a smear of lipstick.

You let out a noise that was more of a growl than anything. “Let me hear you, baby.”

She gasped when you pressed a hand to her lower stomach, briefly feeling the bulge there from your cock, before going back to her clit. You didn’t pause, each thrust pushing Wednesday closer to the edge. “Use your teeth,” she choked out, her cheeks flushing. “Now, please.”

You complied, eager. Scraping your canines down her ear, you stopped at a tender spot behind her pulse point, the skin already marred with purple and red. A sailor’s delight, you thought, a bit hysterically. You sank your teeth in, not holding back, knowing she wanted it. The effect was near immediate; her eyes slid shut, and her body tensed against yours, an unrestrained sob tumbling out from her lips. She reached for you, nails digging into your arm. Your hands shook, all of her tightening the coil in your stomach. Wednesday’s orgasm crashed down, and it shattered something in you, deep and addictive.

Far down in you, below what you were willing to admit, Wednesday’s unknowing grip on your heart tightened even more. You felt like you’d just jumped off your own edge, inevitable as the eternal separation of sun and moon.

“I came,” Wednesday’s voice was a ragged whisper, a ghost of her earlier whimpers ringing in your ears.

“You did, my love,” you shushed, gently sliding your cock out, catching Wednesday as she seemed to melt into the bedsheets with no support. You guided her into her back, relishing in the way she trustingly let you. Tucking the strap away to clean later, you massaged her thighs, thinking they’d be sore later. She seemed to be in a daze, dark eyes fogged with the afterglow. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara from her tears, and the rims of her eyes were a fuschia pink. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that her gaze behind her slow blinks as she watched you was just as possessive as you were. You did know better, you swore, but it didn’t stop you from nuzzling your face into her stomach, intoxicated on the smell of her arousal, delaying the clean-up for just a moment longer. 

“Have you forgiven me yet?” You teased, unsure if she could even hear you. You smoothed her fringe off her forehead, already moving to sit up and get her a bottle of water. But before you could move, Wednesday’s hand grabbed your wrist with lighting speed, a shadow of the earlier afternoon.

She cracked an eye open, and though her eyes were shot red, there was a challenging shine, blade in moonlight, there. “Who says you’re done?”

--

reader: i fuck her good but i don’t think she likes me back :(

wednesday: if you don’t hold me right now i Will murder

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

masterlist

[crazyoffher]

COLLAPSE IN THE KEY OF FIREWORKS.

lorraine day x fem!reader

summary: growing up in rural texas circa 1979 wouldn't have been so hard if you didn't have an attraction to your best friend.

warnings: eventual smut. - mentions of homophobia, canine injury, religion / religious rebellion, paragraph mention of suicide (in a joking manner), umm that's it i think.

word amount: 4100+

a/n: not really sure how i feel about this. sorry for the long wait </3

You loved her, and you wanted to express it more than anything in the world, even if it meant being condemned to the sins your father warned you of.

You wanted her, and the feeling was more than likewise, but you just couldn’t have her.

The realization did not take you forever to realize—your feelings for her, anyway. You knew that you wanted to drown in her gaze, love, smile, and soul the day you laid eyes on her in the back of that stone-cold silver pickup truck. It was a present given to your brother, the eldest, from your father the day he had completed his required service as a missionary, and the first thing that hick-of-a-man did was throw you over his shoulder and hurl you in the back bed.

You were twelve then, lonely as can be during the summertime, before that adorable girl with a voice sweeter than anything you ever tasted crashing down into your life, quite literally.

“Holy shit!” The truck stopped abruptly, and you had to hoist yourself to the far edge of the railings to prevent yourself from flying. You cursed under your breath the words your father would smack you day and night for if said out loud, shaking your head while jumping out of the back to see your brother fast out of the driver's seat, crouching down in the front of the truck.

“The heck did you do, Aziel? Burrow over a rock, ‘cause you know Daddy will kill you if you’ve already scratched this masterpiece.”

“Not no rock, no, but a dog. Cute one at that; I’m so sorry for this.” He spoke solemnly, and you found his frame hunched over as you cornered the truck's front, petting the head of a dog that 

whined in pain. “Come on, little miss. I’ll take him to the hospital for ‘ya, just join this devil’s spawn in the bed,” he pointed to you, though your eyes were glued to the dog, “and we’ll be there in no time, alright?”

“Okay,” and it was that saccharine tone that caught your ears, head perked up to lock your gaze on a girl, quite the small one for the age that matched yours, with cute little freckles spread out across her cheeks and her eyebrows furrowed. Concern laced her voice, and her face too, for the dog that you assumed to be her pet, and you felt bad for the girl that made your heart flutter instantly at just the sight of her.

She wore shorts that rode just to the edge of her knees and a tight white top tucked inward. Your father would have dealt you well for even thinking of such an unwomanlike outfit, contrasting her choice of clothing to your pink skirt and fitted light-blue long-sleeve, your denim jacket hanging over you loosely that you clung to when the winds picked up. The girl was beauty in a jar, if that even made any sense, and you knew from the start that you wanted nobody else but her.

“Here, hold off for just one second,” you warned the girl with a tight expression, being sent a nod as your hands clung to the metal of the bed’s railings, hoisting yourself up greatly to get yourself over and into the open space. You turned the knob and let the bed’s opening fly down, lending a hand to the girl with an injured dog cradled in her arms, to which she joined you on the bed with the utmost struggle.

“I’m sorry about him, by the way." The girl’s head perked up at your voice, a bit gruff from a sickness that seemed to loom over you. “My brother. He hasn’t always been the brightest, and I’ve been juggling in my mind for the past ten minutes or so about why my Daddy decided to gift him a darn truck.”

A small smile etched her face at your words, her hand mindlessly petting the dog cradled in her arms, and a sort of glint in her eyes that you seemed to pass over. God damn, did you still hate yourself to this day for how awkward you grew to be in that moment, failing to make direct eye contact with the girl who wanted nothing but her small ‘ol doggie to be well.

Your eyes subtly lingered over her shirt, stopping abruptly at the crimson-colored stains that donned the fabric with hatred. The girl was more than aware of the stains—she could feel her shirt melting into her—but she could have cared less at that moment when her canine, whom she loved more than herself, was itching and writhing in pain.

“Here,” you got up from your spot against the metal railings, kneeling in the middle of the bed, to the girl’s confusion. “Getting stains on that shirt, yeah? Wrap this over ‘em,” and in front of her, resting in your hands, was the denim jacket that you always wore, stolen from your brother the day he left town, and with no intentions of returning it upon his arrival.

A small “thank you” left those chewed-up lips of hers, bitten and torn from her stressful mind that hoped for her dog to be alright, and you know you’d be getting on Aziel after the situation had died down and the girl was long gone. Long gone, you hoped she wouldn’t be, because you hadn’t seen a face as pretty as hers in your short lifetime, and you didn’t want to imagine how long it would be until you saw it again.

Sooner or later on that breezy day, you found yourself perched on a chair in the waiting room of an animal hospital, feet swinging to the soft guitarra tunes mixed with solid tapping noises from beside you. The girl had her finger curled, her nail hitting the wooden armrest of the chair and scratching it ever so lightly, seemingly in need of taking her mind somewhere else.

Aziel was elsewhere, outside in a small payphone box that would trigger anyone’s claustrophobia, the dirty black-wired phone clinging to his ear while his head was drawn back; you could only assume he was growing tired of your father's voice through the transmitter, berating him for his reckless actions. You almost felt bad for him.

“What if he’s dead?”

That sweet, worried voice tore you away from your brother's frame, turning to face the new-found girl whose eyes bore into your face, tears brimming at the edges of her eyes just at the thought of it, and your heart sank.

“That’s no way to think, uh..."

“Lorraine.” She answered simply, eyes never tearing from yours, and you grew mildly uncomfortable at the continuous staring. You didn’t hate it—no, of course not—but you weren’t accustomed to having a pretty girl stare at you like that.

“Well, Lorraine,” you managed to turn your head away from her, resting them back on your brother’s frame, his posture slumping as time went on. “I love him to death—my brother, I mean—but oh,” your eyebrows raised, and your breath hitched when you felt a cool, soft palm brushing over yours on the wooden armrest, knowing the girl was only ever looking for comfort.

You finished your sentence with a new-found shake in your voice. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

Before Lorraine could reply, the door where the veterinarian had previously taken her dog opened, and you surprised yourself at how quickly you rose from your seat. Lorraine gave you a look before standing up as well, sighing in the utmost relief when her eyes laid on her dog wrapped in a blanket, his chest heaving up and down to signal that he was alive.

"Oh, thank God!” Your head twisted to see Aziel at the front entrance, and his head hung in relief at the living animal. “I was going to bury myself in deprivation if that cute ‘ol thing died.”

“There would have been no need for you to bury yourself because I would have gotten to your Bible-praising ass before you could even shed a tear.” You barked, and Lorraine paused a second of her relief to react, a small smile etching her face at your words of protection.

“You better watch that mouth, sissy, because Dad would rip you a new one if he were to find out.” He threatened though you waved him off; he was all talk, managing to tick off every nerve that held patience within you whenever he pleased, and you still held shock in the back of your mind whenever you’d admit you couldn’t live without him and his childish attitude.

“He’s going to need care. He has two ankle fractures and stitches on his back that you ought to watch out for to make sure he doesn’t bite at them.” Lorraine and Aziel were the only two to listen to the veterinarian, while your mind took you elsewhere; the sun had gone down by then, as it had been over two hours since the truck-dog massacre, and you were sure Lorraine’s parents were concerned about her whereabouts.

“We should probably get her home now, yeah?” You had proposed after the veterinarian had retreated and the small dog rested in Lorraine’s arms, earning a nod from Aziel, who seemed to collect in his mind that Lorraine had a family that she needed to return to, pulling keys from his pocket and ushering the two of you out.

You settled in the backseats of the truck, finding it dangerous enough to ride in the bed, while Aziel got cozy in his driver seat. “Where do you live, girl?”

“The east.” Both you and Aziel turned your heads at her answer, seeing as the two of you resided in the North—hell, you picked her and her dog up in the North—before Aziel questioned her. “Ya positive? What were you doing out here in the North?”

“We were heading to a relative’s house, and my Daddy needed some gas; his truck stopped in the middle of a dirt road because the thing was empty, and he told me to go up to a gas station that was about five minutes out to ask for a gallon. Told me to take Atticus here too,” she said, bending her head down to kiss her dog on the forehead. “They ain’t give it to me, and I was on my way back when..."

Aziel visibly cringed at the remembrance, and he gave Lorraine one last look of sorrow before turning in his seat, cranking on the engine, and setting off east. “So, what? Your parents are worried sick now that you’ve been gone for hours, yeah?”

“Guess so. Daddy’s always been protective of me, calling me his little girl and telling me to always stick by him, but he needed to watch the truck, and I guess he figured Atticus would be enough protection.” Your eyes trailed to the dog in her arms, and you tried to understand how her father could think a dog that small could protect her. “God, he’s never going to let me out of his eyesight ever again.”

“I wouldn’t either if I were him.” Aziel’s grip on the wheel was harsh, his eyes searching the road every second to keep watch of anything. “His little girl ain’t come back; I’d think you were kidnapped.”

The rest of the ride was silent after that, disregarding Lorraine’s soft coos to her drowsy pup when he eventually woke, and you could see Aziel’s hands shake when the truck grew closer to the home address Lorraine had previously given. “Your fault.”

Your voice rang when you pushed yourself up to whisper in his ear, his hand finding your chest to push you back in your seat and away from him. Soon enough, the truck came to a stop outside of a house—a ranch, to your surprise—with a man in a cowboy hat and tucked flannel top sitting on the porch, clearly in distress, while a woman sat right beside him.

Before Lorraine could open the truck door, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she turned to you with curiosity in her eyes. “Do you think—uh?" Your voice caught in your throat, searching for the right words, while Lorraine had a small smile tug at her lips. “Uh, what’s your house number? The phone number, I mean, to the house. You know, how every house has a phone number because there’s a house phone in every-”

Her voice cut you off, and you could only thank the night sky for covering your reddened cheeks. “82-97, 500.” She gave you a sweet smile before turning the door handle, letting herself out while continuing, “First three numbers are the state code!” and shutting the door, soon embracing her worried father's arms.

When you returned home, you were instructed to sleep in your room while Aziel was forced into the living room, and the numbers recited from Lorraine repeated in your head as you trudged up the stairs, ignoring the shouts of your father toward your missionary brother.

“5…2…9—no! 8…2…9,” you scratched the numbers on a blank piece of paper in ink, "7, 500."

You were lost in your thoughts, trying to accumulate the state code numbers from far in your mind to let the sound of footsteps become known to you, and before you knew it, your mother was standing in front of you with her hands settled on her hips. “I thought I told you to go to sleep, (Y/N)! Stop whatever it is that you’re writing, read off your nightly verse, and go to sleep!”

That day was one you could never forget. It was the day you met your best friend, your teenage-long crush, and also the day you got to ride in a truck bed for the first time. Lorraine’s father, to his continuing demise that you refuse to call him anything other than Mr. Day, was more than reluctant to let Lorraine out of the house after the incident, but your natural charm didn’t take long for him to put trust in you—that you’d take care of his little girl—and soon enough, you were forcing Aziel to drive you down east every weekend to go hang out with the girl that clouded your every thought.

Your feelings toward her never mattered anyway, right? She certainly never felt the same toward you, or so you thought. You knew that the trajectory of two girls together would never be accepted in the eyes of your parents, in the eyes of your church, and in the eyes of the man whose verses you read in a book every night and whose practices forced and consumed your everyday life.

Soon enough, it started to concern your parents as to why you hadn’t found a lover at the growing age of seventeen, having overheard a conversation between them one night about the possibility of lining up suitors, shocking you to the very core. So when the next boy came around, annoying you more than life itself at your school locker before popping the question, “Can I take you on a date?” You could only swallow your pride with a choked-out, "Yes,” leaving your lips before scurrying away.

That relationship didn’t last long—maybe three months—before you had enough of his continuous attempts to shaft his hand into your pants. You ended your relationship with him after a dull day at the state fair, and he could only accept reality after being knocked out by Lorraine after attempting to assault you in a bathroom stall.

The day after, you sealed in place your love for the girl. How could you say anything to her, though? Express your feelings and get something out of her besides rejection—a scenario that you deem impossible. The internal battle kept you up at night, and deciding not to fight it any longer, you forced Aziel to drive you up to Lorraine’s ranchhouse on a cool Friday night.

You probably should have just stayed home, because that would have temporarily avoided the heartbreak words that left her mouth after you had settled in her room. They were not ones of rejection.

“I have a boyfriend!”

“What?” The words came out of a nervous impulse, your face falling to sadness. That went unnoticed by Lorraine, whose face had lit up in excitement at finally being able to tell you. “Yes! His name is RJ, and he’s in my film studies class. He’s so sweet, charming, and so nice, (Y/N)!”

If only Mr. Day had shotgun bullets pre-equipped in the barrels, you would have taken yourself down to the garage, where the weapon lay, and shot yourself without another word. You felt sick, and you felt sicker when that fateful day came around the next week when you had to meet the boy she raved about.

Boy, did that only make you question your self-dignity? He looked to be eighteen going on thirty-five, and you bathed in anger at the way Lorraine looked up at him with such admiration glistening in her dark-brown eyes. You yearned for that look.

Then, alas, the day you waited for came eight months later. 

You had accompanied Lorraine and RJ with your “boyfriend”, Danny, who in reality was just playing along to the toy game of you and him being either’s significant others, benefiting you for hiding your true identity and for Danny’s mother to get off his back about never having a woman by his side.

You had a limp in your leg, trying your utmost hardest to recover from the death trap that was the spinning teacups, berating yourself for trusting Danny to not send the two of you spinning like a couple of toy fidgets. In the end, his actions were limited to himself, and to keep himself upright as his head spun as quickly as he did, he tightened his hold on your shoulder.

The sky was fading to darkness, reminding you of the upcoming end of your day, but you couldn’t think about that when you heard the deafening cries of a girl sounding in your range, a cry that you knew all too well.

“You hear that?” Danny plugged a finger in his ear, fidgeting around the canal with the assumption that his mind was getting the best of him. “Get your finger outta your ear, will ya?” You put a hand to his forearm, yanking the limb to the side with a slouchy cry from the darning boy. “You made me scratch my ear!”

You only hushed him with the sound growing louder as if it were heading toward the two of you. It took a one-eighty to find the source of the problem, coming face to face with a crying Lorraine headed in your pathway at a directionally fast pace, no intention of stopping set in her quick feet as salty tears dribbled down her cheeks.

You held the girl without question when she crashed into you, burying her face in your chest with a mighty clutch to Danny’s—secretly yours—leather jacket, and your heart broke at the sight of her in such a distraught state. Why was she crying? Where was RJ? Was he the cause of her crestfallen shadow?

But you couldn’t pester her with questions; no, that would be irresponsible of you and rid you of all the mannerisms you were forced to learn growing up. You turned to Danny with a solemn look on your face; he was already looking back at you with a sense of confusion laced in his furrowed eyebrows, and you wordlessly cocked your head to the side to give him a signal of your temporary departure.

He shook his head, headed in the other direction with a slight pat on Lorraine’s shoulder, and you drove the other girl in the silenced direction of haystacks originally laid out to be used as sitting stations. However, nobody at the fair seemed to pay any mind to the location. Her crying never let down, sobbing in her hands while you rubbed her back in comfort.

It was only when she finally came down from her teary state that you carried the question, “What happened?” When she looked at you, your reassuring smile fell, analyzing her furrowed eyebrows and narrowed, red eyes, which made you wonder if she was agitated at your question. Should you not have asked?

Her staring never faltered; it looked as if she were analyzing you—your face, to be precise—and your breathing grew heavier as your mind grew less shallow at the impending thoughts that infiltrated your mind. “Raine, I’m dearly sorry if I said somethin’ wrong. I’m just worri-”

“Shut it.” Her voice came out in a whisper, and like a trained dog to its commander, your lips were sealed. Lorraine’s tone was cracked, weary, and dried out from all the crying she had endured not moments before, but now she had formed into a new human. If it weren’t for her reddened eyes, stuffy nose, and pinkish ears, you wouldn’t have had a clue she was in a former tainted state, and there before you, her pupils scanned you all over. Like… if you were someone she hadn’t recognized for years beyond that point, as if you were a whole new person to her.

You had no idea what thoughts circled in her mind at that moment, and if you did, you might have burst.

“I’m not crying because of RJ.”

“Then why are you-”

“I said shut it.” Your lips sealed once more, obedient to Lorraine’s words in the same way you had always been. It was never like you had anything better to say, anyway.

“I broke up with him, but that’s not why I was crying. I was scared of the truth ‘cause it’s nothing but wrong in other eyes, and I’ve always wanted to perfect myself in the eyes of myself and others. Now, I can’t.” You could see from your peripherals that her hands were shaky, fiddling with one another, and her mind was a swarm of second questioning. She couldn’t go back by then, though.

“I don’t think I ever liked RJ entirely. I feel bad about it all ‘cause I think I was just using him to cover up my truth.” Lorraine’s eyes had flickered off of yours for a moment, eyeing her fidgety hands before looking back toward you with a different glint in her eyes. You had never been more confused in life than then, and you wanted nothing more than to question her for miles ahead.

“I think this entire time, I’ve loved someone else.” To your oblivious mind, you couldn’t pick up the secretism behind her words or that glint in her eyes, and your heart broke at the idea of Lorraine finding attraction to another man, another person that wasn’t you.

“What’s his name?”

The corner twitches of Lorraine’s lips vanished, and the gleam that once filled her eyes left to form confusion before realization. “God damn it, (Y/N)!” She pushed herself back with a huff, and it was then that you recognized how close she had been toward you.

“What?”

Lorraine gave another large breath, filled to the brim with annoyance. “What? What? I had this entire thing planned out since last month, just for you to not understand it!”

“Understand what? Raine, you’re really confusin’ me he-” But you couldn’t finish your sentence when something was blocking your lips from moving—more noticeably, someone—and you didn’t move. You didn’t kiss her back, no, but it wasn’t because you didn’t want to. You dreamt of this moment every night, and you didn’t fucking move.

The three second reign it took for Lorraine to register that you had frozen in place rushed her out of her tranced state, the ecstasy coursing through her to finally feel your lips on hers. Her former relaxation and calmness at the ability to finally let her feelings out turned to fright. Did she just ruin a friendship with someone she labeled her lifeline because of her stupid, homosexual thoughts that she figured you would reciprocate?

“(Y/N), uhm, I-” But she couldn’t finish her sentence either, because, like you, there was someone blocking her lips from moving. That fright, the one that her body turned to, disappeared just as quickly as it settled in, and she sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder to bring you in closer. That feeling she felt in her stomach was something she had never felt kissing RJ or any other boy, and man, did it feel fucking amazing.

“Just- just one thing, Raine.” Your voice came in a hushed whisper, moving forward to rest your forehead against the girl you claimed to be your whole word. “Yeah?”

“We ain’t gonna tell nobody about this, ‘cause you know we can’t.”

That was the truth, one that broke both of your hearts. “I know.”

☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug @idkwimdtbh @yolehiho @likefirenrain @ctrlamira @lovelyy-moonlight @dunohilly @jjsmaybank20 @xzennypennyx @mfd-101

(all tagged are from the list that are originally tagged in jenna content. if you don’t want to be tagged in lorraine cont. please let me know!)

[misshorrormovies]

Warnings: smut, minors dni please, read at your own risk.

————————————————————————— ————————

Let's talk about soft sex with Xavier. Istg this isn't talked about enough. Yes, yes, I get all the sub/dom tropes and being rough but let's be honest, Xavier is like a teddy bear.

He's laying you on his bed, slowly discarding your clothes, piece by piece till your entirely naked under him. You had some hard time concentrating in class even though you tried everything. Drank 2 coffees in 2 hours, go to the bathroom and wash ur face with ice cold water everytime you felt sleepy, go to bed early, even taking pills. Nothing worked.

Xavier knew about your sleeping problem but didn't know it was that bad till he saw you sleeping in Thornhill's class. You two didn't even interacted that much these days.

"God , I missed you so much" he whispers in your ear, trailing kisses down your neck. "Gonna make you feel so good".

"Xavi- please" you whimpered at his words. You truly missed him too, missed this. You missed everything about him.

"I know baby, I know". He takes off his shirt and pants, his kisses going lower and lower to your stomach. His wet, cold hair slightly touching your ribs making you shiver at the sudden contact.

He places kisses to your inner thighs, glancing up at you from time to time to make sure you're alright.

"Xavi cmon" you whine. He kisses your crotch making you jolt. He wastes no time in taking off his boxers and diving inside you, pulling sweet moans out of your throat. He takes his time with you, fucking you slowly and passionate while leaving wet kisses all over your neck. When your moans grow louder and your hips start thrusting back, he knows you're close. So he picks up his pace, going faster now, his own orgasm approaching.

"I'm cl-close-" your words get cut off by your moans. He grabs your waist with one hand, moving with the same passion. His other hand moves to rub at your clit, slow, tight circles. He buries his face in your neck as his own moans and groans grow louder.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

can do u just randomly flashing xavier ur tits shfdjjd

yesss

FLASHING

Pairings: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: ^^^^ Warnings: flashing your tits Note: short but gets to the point

you were bored with your friends going on and on about the latest gossip when you just wanted t have a little fun.

you came up with an idea and excused yourself from the table, making your way the the boys dorms.

you hadn't seen Xavier in a few days, your timetable wasn't the same for the last 2 days and he had been busy with his new paintings.

needless to say, you missed his company and the way he looked at you.

you hadn't actually seen each other naked yet, the most you've seen is his bare chest while sleeping over and all he's seen is your bare thighs in the short shorts you wear or a sneak peak of your cleavage when you wear a little singlet.

the house master wasn't there, due to it being lunch time and no body is in side, although you knew Xavier was. he snapped you in his room.

you walked through his door and shut the door with a slam

Xavier sat at his desk, drawing when you came in and when he turned around to the noise he found you standing behind him with a smile on your face.

"hey, Angel, how can I help you?" he asked, standing up and started walking towards you when you lifted your shirt.

your tits were bare in front of his eyes for a second before you put your shirt down, smiling innocently before you walked out of his room. leaving him there with his hands in his pockets, blinking before going after you.

he chased you through the hall of the boys dorms before grabbing your hips, lifting you up in his arms.

you felt his hard length press against your thigh

"excuse me, missy? what was that?" he huffed

you shrugged innocently in response

"oh, hello, baby. How can I help you today on this fine evening?" you smirked, acting clueless

"oh I think you know how you can help me." he went back to his dorm, laying you down on his bed

"you can't just flash those pretty tits of yours out of no where and expect to get away with it, that's not how it works, Sweetheart"

------------------------------------------------

[mikeyss1ut]

UH Can i request Wednesday x fem reader where she gets possessive of her gf plss🫠 i need more fics of her😔

Yes, you were so quick with this and I love that:))

“ imbeciles “

Summary: In which Tyler gets way out of his league and starts flirting with you. Wednesday puts him in his place very fast.

Spreading the sunshine x grumpy tropee.

You were always happy. Well not always , but you always tried to make sure you were nice. Your girlfriend Wednesday Addams was quite the opposite. She could care less about what people had to say. She could care less on what she said. She embraced her weirdness. You envied her for it.

“Hi! Could I get a Carmel frappe with not whip cream and sprinkles please!” You said, the worker at the counter whose name you knew from the would purpose he and Wednesday sometimes work together for her mystery’s. Tyler. He was always nice to you. Just maybe a little to nice. He knew you were Wednesdays girlfriend. But he didn’t really care, he liked you and was still trying. Even though he knows how Wednesday is about stuff like that, especially when it came down to you.

“Yeah sure.” He quickly made it and set it down my the cash register. You went to give him the money but.

“It’s on the house.” He said with probably the biggest grin on his face.

“Oh, okay thank you!” You took your frappe and went to sit down with Wednesday in your guys booth.

As you sat down the glare her eyes had on you could kill.

“That imbecile needs to check his self before he does something he might regret.”

“He’s just being nice Wednesday, maybe you could learn a little something from him?” You said. She hummed. “I’m unsure wether or not your visions on me are clear. I’m not nice.”

You smiled. She wasn’t nice but that’s what made Wednesday, Wednesday. Tyler walked over to the table.

“Hey girls do you want anything else?” He smiled “Oh um could I maybe-“

“We don’t need anything else. If we wanted something we would come to the front counter like your supposed to. Because in case you forgot this is a coffee shop where you go to the front desk to get your food. Not a restaurant where you get waited on.”

You kicked her leg under the table just gently so she would look at you “Wednesday!” You whisper yelled.

Tyler walked away without saying anything. And Wednesday went back to pretending everything was normal.

“So according to this book and uncle fester. This Monster we happen to be looking for is other than the one behind the counter. There’s also one called a Hyde.”

“Wednesday! Please be good. I’m gonna go use the restroom you stay here. Wednesday took out a pen and ripped a piece off of a napkin and wrote.

Here’s a tip. Don’t look at other’s people girlfriends like you did mine. Next time I won’t be so light with my regards and insults towards you. She got up gripping the book in between her arm and placed the napkin In the tip jar. Then waited for you outside the restroom.

When you got out she immediately took your hand and did a fast strut out of ten coffee shop. “Wednesday, what the hell? I thought you we were gonna study this monster and have our frappes?”

“I’d prefer to study with Eugene at his little beehive castle.”

“Okay, fine I guess.”

[nymphie-mama]

meet me under the mistletoe

pairing xavier thorpe x reader

summary in which a “fool-proof” set up leads to a first kiss.

warnings first kiss. fluff. friends to lovers.

i no longer support percy hynes white and i do not write for xavier thorpe anymore.

Enid and Ajax have been clearly flirting. though they will deny it to god’s end, it’s obvious. they clearly have feelings for one another, wednesday even said that thing overheard them talking about it. they just won’t admit it to their friends.

however, enid and ajax would say the same about you and xavier.

even so, you and xavier came up with a fool proof plan. right in the doorway of his room, xavier placed mistletoe.

enid and ajax loved these kinds of cliches, as did you. hence the idea. all you had to do was get them to stand under it, and they’d kiss. they’d excuse it as “rules are rules.”

the pair of you were sitting on xavier’s bed, waiting for the others to arrive. you laid under his arm, scrolling through his phone extremely comfortably. you were really warm and safe there. xavier always made you feel that way.

there was a firm knock on the door, in a rhythm unmistakable to be wednesday.

you opened the door, and she was alone, staring directly at the green and red spring taped to the wood.

“mistletoe?”

“you enid and ajax, obviously,” xavier said, mocking her crude tone. wednesday peered up at him, looking more annoyed than usual, and walked in.

“seems good enough. enid definitely is the type to do that.”

you agreed, and went back to scrolling with xavier while wednesday read her notes from her most recent mystery.

the next knock was undeniably ajax. you, wednesday, and xavier all exchanged similar looks before you and the artist jumped up to the door.

you laughed as you both reached for the door handle, standing side by side. after a bit of silent bickering, xavier let you open the door and leaned against your back.

enid and ajax were standing scarily close to one another out in the hall. xavier had his goofy smile on his face, standing directly in the door.

you stood closer to him, still not letting the other couple in.

you hadn’t really thought this plan through.

“hey, mistletoe!” enid said, pointing directly above your heads.

you almost think you heard wednesday laugh.

“rules are rules,” ajax said. “gotta kiss, bros.”

you and xavier exchanged another look. you couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or cry, but he leaned into your ear.

“is that okay?” he asked, loud enough for only you two to hear.

“rules are rules, right?”

you back away slightly, enough for to bring your lips to xavier’s.

electricity coursed through your veins. your lips felt like puzzle pieces together. he tasted really nice, warm.

his hands found your hips quickly, and yours went to the nape of him neck and into his hair.

you don’t know how long you’d been standing there, but it must’ve been an embarrassingly long time.

“guys.”

xavier pulled away, “shit sorry, come in guys.”

enid giggled, slipping between the pair of you with ajax’s wrist in her hand.

xavier went to close the door and his arm flew around your shoulders like second nature. like they belonged there. he leaned back down,

“maybe what they say about us is right.”

“maybe it is, thorpe,” you said smugly, acting as though you disagreed. despite your tone, you leaned closer to xavier’s frame. “get that smile off of your face, enid.”

wednesday masterlist