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allfearstofallto · 3 months ago

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When it Comes to You

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

TW: 18+ MDNI, Yandere content, bribery, blackmail, Dub-con, Reader works at a brothel (is not a courtesan)

AN: I've just been watching a lot of apothecary diaries tbh and I needed to write something

A job is a job, you often thought to yourself as you tried not to cough from the smell of booze and tobacco, and mora is mora. You didn't have the luxury of denying yourself a single cent. Every little piece of gold, shiny and polished or scuffed and dirty was one step closer to your goal and another away from your debt. Away from him, who didn't try to hide that he was finding his pleasure in watching you drowning under the weight of your obligations.

You were to pour drinks. Whether it be tea, water, or wine. Scurry around the large main hall, entertain the guests waiting for their chances with a lady of the night and pour their drinks. Keep a smile on their faces and their pockets empty. Keep them distracted from just how much they were spending, keep their cigars lit, keep them cheerful and drunk. All simple tasks, in theory. In practice you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, all while the guests leered at you like a piece of meat. It was dehumanizing, but it paid well and paid quickly. You'd receive a bag of mora at the end of every shift, the amount varying based on how well you'd done that day.

Most of it, you couldn't keep. After paying for necessities, you'd walk on your aching feet to the northland bank and pay off a bit more of your debt. You were barely chipping at the high fortune that you owed, but anything was better than the alternative.

And much to your dismay, the alternative was sitting at one of your tables. With that same empty eyed smile and one long leg casually crossed over the other. He tapped his finger against the rim of his empty glass, taunting you in the one place where he knew you couldn't retaliate. Another lady approached him, head bowed while she attempted to pour his wine, but he shooed her away just as quickly with a wave of his hand. He didn't want her, he wanted you. He wanted you to see and know that he wanted you.

You couldn't look angry, nor annoyed, anything less than an enthusiastic smile meant less pay. So with your lips curled too tightly, to the point of near pain, you kneeled next to his table and filled his glass with the cooled liquid. Ajax seemed pleased with your service. Although, he always seemed pleased when you were around. He kept a smile on his face in your presence , not because he had to, but because he wanted to, like he was incapable of looking anything but smug when near you. With that same expression, he took a singular sip of his wine before sitting the glass back on the table.

“Stay,” he ordered quickly when he saw even the flicker of possibility of you leaving. You stayed kneeled next to his table as you were told, the last thing you needed was him complaining to your boss, a habit he'd made to keep you as in debt as possible. And Ajax was a high paying customer, one that they wanted to keep. His words were like law to your employers, anything less than perfection with his service would be met with the dock of your pay.

Ajax wanted you to be as poor as possible. He wanted you to be pressed under his thumb, to be weak to his will and in need of his favors. It was those same favors that'd gotten you into this mess now, and those same favors were only digging your hole deeper. You owed him a lot. Not him, per say, but the Northland bank. Usually owing money meant you'd be shaken down by a low level fatui foot soldier, yet Ajax had taken a particularly notable interest in you. One that did more harm than good. It bordered on obsession, although he'd play that observation off with a smile.

“You're late,” his words were followed by another sip of wine. He didn't have to tell you what you were late on, you knew he was referring to a payment. There was a happy chirp to the way he spoke, a playful sweetness to his tone that would've been charming, had he not been smiling at your misery.

“I paid yesterday,” you insisted. It was difficult getting your anger across with a forced smile on your face, but your strained voice and gritted teeth would have to suffice.

“You paid the principal,” he playfully tapped your nose with the cold tip of his finger and you resisted the urge to snap and bite, “Not your interest.”

“I was told I could pay it later, I'll have it by the end of the week,”

“Told by whom? Was it me?” He looked so proud of himself as he spoke watching you grow more and more frustrated while being unable to express it, “If it wasn't by me then it wasn't part of your arrangement.”

“I can pay at the end of the night if you wait for my shift to be over,” you sighed, letting the smile drop for only a moment. You thought it strange how sweetly the teller at the bank was when she insisted that you could pay the interest later. Against your better judgement, you listened. Why were you dumb enough to think you had allies on your side? To think that he wasn't still pulling strings, even when he was nowhere near.

An expression crossed Ajax's face. A familiar one. A bad one. The look he made when an idea struck him. Or, perhaps when he knew he'd finally be able to get what he wanted. That's the look he gave you, and felt your heart sink.

“You won't make enough,” there he was again, saying those harsh words with a singsong tone, reveling in your misfortune, “With the late fee on top, you'll be short.”

You scoffed, letting the cheerful facade drop. There'd never been a late fee before, but Childe was insistent in getting what he truly wanted from you. Your one slip up was going to be your detriment, and his greatest achievement so far. You could see it in the sparkle in his dead, hollow blue eyes. He was anticipating just this, almost as if he'd plotted the entire thing himself. A conspiracy like that wasn't far off in terms of what the man in front of you was capable of, the one who was looking down upon your pitiful kneeling form in delight about the ownership of you that he dangled over your head.

“Take me as a client tonight and consider yourself cleared of this weeks payment-”

Your glossed lips parted quickly to stop his train of thoughts, but he cut you off by placing a finger against them. You couldn't see it, but you could feel the soft shade from your lips smear across his digit and onto your cheek.

“-and the next,”

You felt your world stop at this statement. Suddenly, the brothel that was so noisy and overbearing, was silent. Two weeks with no payment? Childe was never that generous. But he was also a man who was always two steps ahead. He'd been wanting to bed you since the day you walked into that bank the first time. All smiles with a hand resting too low upon your waist while selling you a loan that would essentially take your entire life to pay back. You were naive then. Naive and desperate. And somehow, you were worse now.

When things were rough and you knew you didn't have the money to pay him, he'd accept little things. A date. Handholding. A hug. There was even a day where he accepted a kiss upon the lips in exchange for a week's payment.

A real kiss.

He wanted you to initiate. He wanted you seated on his lap, your tongue in his mouth, he wanted to claim you completely, while making it feel like you desired it too.

The kiss was suffocating and vile, not romantic at all. It was a kiss that screamed ownership and possession, nothing close to a true affection. You couldn't even pull away when you wanted to, his hand was holding the back of your head, keeping you in place while he lapped at the inside of your mouth, slurping at your tongue while simultaneously tracing his fingertips over your cheeks.

“I don't take customer's, I'm not a-” you couldn't bring yourself to speak the word, but all he did was cock an eyebrow at your silence.

“Anything can be arranged,”

A deal that feels too good to be true, is usually just that. His smirk, mischievous and cold spoke of a desire that wouldn't end with one taste of your body. Silently, you were cursing yourself for even considering it. Having your head above the water, even if just for a week more would be like a balm to your soul, but at what cost?

“Two weeks?” You peaked up at him through your lashes. The way his smile spread told you that you were already making the wrong decision, but you didn't turn back, “You have to promise me Childe, do you mean it?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” his words made you feel even sicker as he mimicked the childish gesture.

His hand was outstretched to you, fingers long and lanky, still wet and cold from the condensation of his glass. The sight of that hand was familiar. The last deal you'd made with the man being the reason you worked yourself to the bone now. The last time you'd shaken that same, cold hand, you'd done something stupid. It was a bad deal. It was always a bad deal with him. There was always some hidden clause or play of words that you didn't decipher quick enough, always something hidden up his sleeve, especially when it came to you.

And despite your better judgement, you still shook his hand. Instead of feeling the weight of the world fall off of your shoulders, you only felt it grow heavier upon your already weak body. It was better to give it to him now, than have him take it later, right? Who knew what he had planned for you if you couldn't pay.

“Shall we take a room upstairs?” He pointed to the staircase. Only courtesans and their clients used those stairs. You were sure he knew that, yet he spoke as if he also knew that there would be one free for the two of you to use together, like he'd planned this very scenario from the get go.

The thought wasn't lost on you. Ajax always planned things to a tee, when it came to you.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin yandere childe x reader #yandere childe x you #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #tw yandere #yancore

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sidemari · 6 months ago

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• "Themed Phrases" - 18+ Scenarios Collection •

Important note: I had to repost this work because Tumblr's algorithm censored my previous post. Forgive me for any mistakes, English isn't my native language.

About the game: Both characters' names and themed phrases are in alphabetical/numerical order to facilitate your life as you read this work. Thanks for spending some time on here <3

Pairings: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Venti, Xiao and Zhongli [separately] x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7,5K+ words.

Childe's Scenario

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

42. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”

TW: Alcohol consumption.

After some glasses of wine, kisses were not enough: both of you needed something more efficient than that to bring relief to your desires.

"I'm feeling... I'm feeling weird" You mumbled against his neck, breathing in his cologne.

"I know you're. It's easy to notice you're excited" His breath hit your ear. "Or should I admit you're horny?"

"Ajax... Stop with your teasing for once"

You felt a kiss against your collarbone that made you shiver, despite the warmth the candles in the bedroom provided.

"It was your idea to drink, in the first place. You know I get... Like this" You muttered.

“You don’t need to be shy, my love” He pulled you to a quick kiss, right before smiling devilishly. "You know I'm around to help you"

And then in the middle of confusion, the reason you both were commemorating.

"It's our anniversary..." You unbuttoned the first button of your coat. "I may have something else for you"

His gaze became piercing, almost cornering you when you showed him your lingerie.

"Lacy?" He grinned. "You're such a sly girl, uh?" If the fabric of your coat wasn't thick enough, it would have torn.

Your breasts were now fully exposed, as they looked perfectly sculpted in the cup of the bra you were using.

You finished undressing and that was when he guided you to your bed.

Your heart was racing inside your chest when he took off his gloves.

"Can I?" He asked for consent while his fingers caressed your hips.

"Yes... Yes, please"

His tongue felt warm.

Your body shivered under his ministrations.

Sucking your clit right before swirling his tongue around your bundle of nerves was enough to have you whimpering.

"Ajax- F-Fuck..." Your hands pulled his ginger hair weakly, pressing his face against your intimacy even more, to the point that the words he tried to say were all muffled, because wet and slurping sounds fulfilled the bedroom as Tartaglia prepared you to receive him.

“Is this too fast for you?” He muttered when he broke the contact to breathe.

“Please… Fuck me already” The fatui only smiled, quickly taking off his clothes in order to get freedom to move properly.

“Lift your hips for me and put your legs on my shoulders”

“Ajax…?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”

His thrusts were steady and initially slow.

"It's a shame you're now only wearing your bra. That set was pretty hot on you"

A fast pace was settled and you could barely move much or handle all the stimulation.

"You know how I feel when you're all obedient and devoted to me, right, darling?" A hard thrust of his almost reached your cervix, making you whimper and squirm.

"A-Ajax..."

"Shush… We're both almost there"

Your bodies reached the limit some minutes after that, having you both completely surrendered to each other during the rest of the night.

Diluc's Scenario

1. "I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to"

2. "Friends don’t do this kind of shit"

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

43. “I’m going to fucking wreck you”

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

The crystal glass containing an untouched wine was now a fidget on Diluc's hand.

"Tsk, who am I fooling? I despise this shit"

He sounded bitter, almost raged when he abandoned the glass above the table, getting up from his seat at the Winery Salon to walk towards you.

"I'm sorry I have to talk to her right now, Kaeya. Perhaps you can talk finishing your conversation after I'm done with her"

"Diluc...?" You asked confused, as he guided you upstairs with a tight grip on your wrist. "I'm not... I'm not done talking to him"

"Save it" The man hissed. "I'm losing my patience with you, and you're aware of that"

"Diluc... What have I even done this time?"

"You're mine, (Name). You're mine and mine alone. Still, you can't bring yourself to stop seeking attention from other guys, uh? Especially from Kaeya, that..." He didn't finish his line, he simply locked the door behind him, sighing in frustration.

"This is... This is stupid" You said quietly. "You were the one who was disinterested in me. You said it would only bring confusion to the both of us. I guess you were right, afterall"

"What are you even talking about?"

"Don't you remember? You were the one who said 'Friends don’t do this kind of shit', Diluc" You said firmly. "Our relationship doesn't mean much more than being friends with benefits for you, right?"

"You know I didn't mean that phrase in that way, (Name). You're everything I could ever ask for... That's why my blood was boiling with jealousy of seeing you so close to Kaeya"

"So it was all about jealousy...?"

"Is it so astonishing having me confessing something like that?" He took off his gloves slowly, guiding you to his bed with his steps.

"Diluc... He's probably still downstairs..."

"It's even better if he listens to anything" A soft chuckle left his lips. "Now strip of those clothes, because I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to"

The only thing you remembered the next morning was how that single time felt so special and different from any other nights you shared together.

"That's my good girl... Look how wet you're with so little stimulation... Perhaps you were close to Kaeya only to make me riled up, uh?"

You didn't answer him, you only squirmed when his slim fingers brushed against the most sensitive spot of yours.

"You wanted to get me jealous so I could fuck you hard enough to remember you that you're mine alone?" He chuckled softly. "And I must admit it worked pretty well, dear"

Diluc said before his tongue started exploring your sex, with his fingers still there. He had the habit of collecting some of your essence with the tips of his tongue before swallowing all of it.

"I can never understand why do you taste so freaking addictive on my tongue"

Your hands shakily pulled his red hair softly, not making him feel pain, but pleasure as he savored your heat.

"Diluc..." His name was nothing more than a mewl that left your lips.

"Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

He was right, were you needy for him.

But you didn't answer him.

"Say you want me to fuck you senselessly against this mattress, my lovely"

Still no answer, only moans leaving your lips as his fingers kept stimulating you.

"My lovely?" His movements stopped abruptly. "Answer me" Diluc slapped your thigh, gaining a louder moan from you.

"Fuck me, please... I need you filling me up completely... I need to feel you inside of me right now..." You obeyed him.

"I’m going to fucking wreck you”

And so he did.

It was the first time Diluc was rough with you during sex.

He was fucking you raw on that bed.

"You know what you signed up for, (Name)" He said between the hard thrusts of his hips. "You know how much I despise feeling jealousy. It's only fair that I'm the responsible one to teach my little girl a lesson, uh?"

You simply nodded continually, not being able to say much when your body was being pressed against the silk bed sheets while Diluc ravished your body.

The belly bulge his length formed every time he bottomed out inside you made him arrogant about it.

"Do you see how much our bodies match? You were hand-made just for me to fuck you this good, baby..." His hand gripped your chin, lifting it up for you to watch him closely.

"You're perfect... The most precious thing I have" His hips thrusted against yours roughly enough to leave you sore the next day.

"Diluc..." Fuck, he knew you so well that he could almost read your mind thinking about how close you were.

"Cum with me, doll... Let me feel you squeezing me as I fill you up with my seed"

Your nails sank against the skin of his back while your legs kept him inside of you even after your high.

"Look at you... All marked up as mine, uh?"

Sleepiness followed your orgasm, but you could feel Diluc getting ready once again inside your heat.

"D-Diluc...?" You asked quietly, almost shy about what would happen next.

"You don’t need to be shy, my love” That only made your cheeks glow red even more. “Even if you’re worn out, I'm not done with you yet”

Kaeya's Scenarios

Scenario 1

5. “I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-”

9. “Bite me”

15. “Now take a deep breath…”

17. “Don't pull out”

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive here”

30. “That feels good, baby?”

31. “You want me to claim you, don’t you?”

32. “Make love to me, please”

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

50. “I’ve been thinking about you all day”

54. “I just want to make you feel good”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

TW: Omegaverse, heats, creampie.

"This feels... Uncomfortable" You mumbled, changing your position for the hundredth time that minute.

Sweat covered your warm skin but that didn't make you feel better.

It was only getting worse. You'd reach a point that ignoring your urges and instincts would only lead you to your own destruction.

"Kaeya... Please, come home" You whimpered, pressing your legs together so you could try to release some tension.

But things started getting blurry.

And the sounds seemed so stuffy.

You had fainted.

And your boyfriend found you weak, sweating coldly as your body kept trembling despite how warm your skin felt.

"I'm here... Hey, I'm home"

"Kaeya...?" You blinked torturously slow.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here to help you"

"What's happening...? But your thoughts were foggy, since you were way too confused to think straight.

“You’re burning up with fever”

“My meds… I’m irresponsible”

“It’s something normal, (Name). It’s not like any of us can control our cycles”

“I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-” You got up from the bed so quickly that your sight became black and your knees faltered.

“How many times do I need to say to you that you don’t need to suppress anything from your omega nature?”

“Kaeya… This is a burden. I’m a burden…” Gelid and strong hands pressed your body against his own, trying to help you come to your senses.

His lips pressed a kiss against your damp neck, gaining a whimper from you.

“K-Kaeya…?”

“I just want to make you feel good” Another kiss met your skin. “Allow me to take care of you, my love”

Carefully your clothes were taken off by his skilled hands right before he helped you to lay down on the bed.

The silk bed sheets seemed cold the first seconds you laid on them, but they were less cold than Kaeya’s fingertips that traveled against your arm, then hips and finally thighs.

Shivering, you suppressed another whimper when he sucked on your collarbone, marking you as his once again.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive here” Kaeya jokes, kissing the bond mark you received long months ago, during your first cycle together.

“Kaeya… I’ve been thinking about you all day”

“I know, love. I know. And I couldn’t take my thoughts out of you”

His lips touched yours, asking for the permission you gave him instantly.

Your tongues explored each other slowly, while little wet sounds were made and propagated through the bedroom.

The kiss finished when you both needed to breathe properly.

“Open your legs for me, omega” As if you were enchanted, you obeyed him without thinking twice.

Your intimacy was fully exposed to the one who claimed you.

His fingers eagerly collected some of your essence just so he could taste you on his tongue.

A smile formed on his lips when the captain saw your expression.

“You want me to claim you, don’t you?”

“Kaeya… I need you… Myself was never enough for me”

“Shush… I’m here now, remember? Just trust me”

“Please… Please!”

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Just…” You whined when his finger stimulated your clit. “Just make love to me, please”

The man pulled your body towards his, slowly penetrating your sex.

Some tears of reflex formed on the corner of your eyes just to be kissed away by your partner.

“Good girl…” You felt a thrust. “Now take a deep breath…”

A steady pace was settled as Kaeya made sure to mark every inch of flesh his eye could admire.

His hips now collapsed against yours creating lewd sounds that anyone could hear if they were close enough.

Your hands went from the bed sheets to his back, scratching him slightly in pleasure while you struggled to take him properly inside you.

“Is this too fast for you?” He asked concerned, afraid that your weakness would take the best of you.

“No… This feels… This feels s-so good” You gasped between his thrusts.

“Ah…” His voice carried a provocative tonality. “So that feels good, baby?”

You didn’t answer him.

It was not like you needed to for him to know you were close to your limit.

One of your hands went to his head, caressing his navy blue locks, guiding him towards your neck.

“Bite me” And so he did. Alberich’s sharp teeth sank into the healed bonding mark on your neck, bruising it once again and sealing your love one more time.

“Shush… You’ll be fine. It’s only some blood”

Some more seconds and you came undone under his body.

The soft squeezes against his shaft made him melt and get closer to his own orgasm. You were able to feel him twitching inside your walls and with that you enlaced your legs around his waist, preventing him from leaving your sex.

“Don't pull out” You whispered. “I wanna feel it. Fill me up to the brim, please”

• Time break •

His embrace was warm, despite the coldness from the room.

“Thank you” You whispered when he hid his face against the crook of your neck.

“We’re bonded, right? We should take care of each other all the time”

You smiled, caressing his hair.

“I’m quite sore”

“You must be… It took many rounds to control your dark necessities”

“K-Kaeya!”

“It’s not like I’m complaining though. Work was tough and at least you helped me to unwind” He kissed your neck once again. “Also… I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

Scenario 2

4. "I don’t care if they watch"

25. “Don’t cum without my permission”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?”

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

“When will you make me your priority?” You complained with tears in the corner of your eyes, but his attention didn’t leave the paperwork in front of him. “You’re always so careless… Don’t you ever think about what your own partner will think about your attitudes?”

“Enough” The captain got up from his seat, coming towards your direction.

You thought he would stop in front of you, but his steps didn’t falter one single time, until your body was fully pressed against the wall of his office.

“K-Kaeya…?” His hand squeezed your wrist, without the intention of hurting you, but only signaling that if you went a bit too far you’d regret it.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger.

“If you’ll only argue with me once again, I’ll leave”

“My, my. Perhaps I don’t have any other choice. besides claiming you in this exact office, right, my doll?”

“It’s not like this will solve our problems”

“But we can forget about them during some minutes and that’s enough for me”

“Kaeya… We are at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. This is the last thing we should be-” A kiss was stolen from you.

Dominantly, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring your own tongue with curiosity.

One of his hands was still holding your wrist tightly while the other held your waist strongly, pressing your body against the door frame.

“Take off your clothes, quickly” He whispered in your ear after he broke the kiss.

Shivering with his voice tone, you only had the strength to obey his words.

The woodend table felt cold when your naked body laid down.

“What if… What if someone needs to talk to you? What if someone sees us?”

"I don’t care if they watch" His gelid hands opened your legs wide apart, just to see how wet and ready you were for him. “Perhaps you get turned on by arguing?” His finger brushed your clit vigorously, making you squirm.

“Mhmm… It’s s-so sensitive”

“Look how prepared you are, dollface. I could start pounding you right now and you’d have no trouble with it, right?” His finger scooped some of your slick, bringing it to your lips. “Taste yourself”

You sucked on his finger, only to grow addicted to your own taste.

“See? You’re addictive” The captain unbuckled his belt, hitting your right thigh with the accessory. “I'm not done with you yet”

Standing still and without trousers, he finally penetrated you, already building up a fast pace within seconds.

“F-Fuck… This feels so freaking good” You whimpered, forgetting about any topic that you were arguing about. “Kaeya… Kaeya!” His tip brushed against your g-spot continually, making you melt with the stimuli.

“Keep moaning my name like that. It’s pleasant” His hand scratched your hip hard enough to leave a little mark.

“I’m… I’m so c-close”

“Don’t cum without my permission”

“It’s too m-much…”

“Only some more thrusts and you can come with me. Don’t you dare cumming before I say so. Or else, you’ll be in trouble and I won’t give a fuck we’re at work”

Your answer was a small whimper and a nod from your head.

Your body jerked up with his movements while his hips didn’t stop collapsing against yours for once. No thrust failed.

“Kaeya…?” You asked for permission when your legs started trembling around his waist. “Please?”

“Deliver it to me, my darling”

And once again your body obeyed him without questioning anything.

Your fiancé emptied himself inside you, marking you as his in another way before pulling out of you.

Your body was way too sticky to put your clothes back on properly when a knock was heard against the door.

“Fuck” You whispered, finishing dressing up.

“We will finish this later in our bedroom”

“Can we at least cuddle afterwards?”

“I’ll take care of you all night long, don’t worry”

Kazuha's Scenario

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

41. “Just let your body take control”

51. “Your scent drives me crazy”

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

54. “I just want to make you feel good”

The night breeze carried something sweet to his senses but he knew that such delicate scent he felt wasn't from the small tree that was part of his room's landscape.

"I know you're here" Kazuha said calmly.

"I missed you" It was your time to say something after not being able to see him for months straight. "And I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier than you expected-"

His lips shut your mouth with a delicate kiss.

"I understand that being an adeptus is draining, love. You have nothing to apologize for... But if we finally met today, I shall admit I just want to make you feel good"

He was perfect.

He was everything you could ever ask for.

You've never been with a man who could make you feel so human, so safe and so loved whenever you were together.

After his whisper, you could feel his hands on your shoulders, his fingers trailing down your neck, as his thumbs stroked your breasts above the fabric of your shirt.

His hand hoovered along your body, feeling your curves and the softness of your skin.

"Your scent drives me crazy" Your breathing strained with his tone and you shivered. Despite the warmth of the room, something about the words and the way he said them into your ears made you weak for him.

"Kazuha..." You whimpered when he finally guided you to his bed.

"Is there something wrong?"

"It's just... I'm not that good when it comes to receiving attention like this"

"Is this too fast for you?" Worry was all over his face. Forcing you to do something was never on his plans.

"No... I need you now, Kazuha"

• Time break •

He reached your soaked panties, pulling them down so he could fuck you with his skilled fingers.

You moaned soundly with your back arched, eyes closed tightly as you simply enjoyed that warm night by his side.

You haven't felt like this in so long.

You needed this feeling.

You needed his love.

And you needed him.

Your hips buck as you try to get away, but his grip is tight while his tongue savors all you had to offer him.

"Kazuha..." His name was nothing more than a whisper that left your agape lips.

It was hard for you to let your guard down like that, even if you trusted him enough to do such. Almost as the man above you could read your mind, he reassured you:

"Just let your body take control” He was growing impatient, just wanting nothing more than to be inside of you.

"I'll make you mine once again"

When he slides inside you, filling you up to the brim, you cry out with a mixture of overstimulation and euphoria.

He makes your love deeper every time he thrusts into your sensitive core over and over again with his body pressed against yours, his face oh so close to you that he had to steal some kisses from you.

Kisses that were hot and hungry.

His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

Kazuha teases your mouth with his tongue, flicking it this way and that until you can no longer stand it, so you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore further.

Your whole body tingles from head to toe.

Everything else disappeared from your mind except the feeling of his body on yours, his hands caressing your body, his kisses and the way he ravished you in the most sinful way he could.

Your body would remember him after that.

Your body would show you belonged to him and him alone.

His cock twitched inside you when he was finally close, just when your orgasm ripped through your body.

Kazuha's voice sounded raspy against your ears after he marked your insides with his seed, which easily found its way towards your womb due the constant contractions of your tight walls.

"I'm not done with you yet”

Scaramouche's Scenario

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-"* Edited to: "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…"

9. "Bite me"

17. “Don't pull out”

18.“Why do you smell so good?”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission”

32. “Make love to me, please”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?”* Edited to: “Can I cuddle you?”

TW: Omegaverse things

Finishing reporting your last mission to the Tsaritsa was incredibly hard when all you wanted to do was laying in bed and having someone to take care of your stupid heat.

"I consider your mission a success. Now leave." The archon said with contempt before you left the gelid room swiftly.

Your vision was blurred and your legs were weak enough to make the walking to your room difficult.

"It stings..." You gasped, trying to breathe properly since the oxygen felt heavy and inefficient. "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…" You were so lost in thought - talking to yourself - that you didn't notice there was someone passing by the corridor.

The collision was strong enough to bother your sensitive body.

"Can't you see I'm trying to pass this freaking corridor?" The harbinger said harshly before he knew it was you that had bumped against him. "Oh, (Name)... It's you… My bad"

"Scaramouche... Forgive me... I just- I just need to get to my bedroom" You runned through the last few meters of the corridor just so you could enter your place and lock the door.

"Fuck... This feels so overwhelming" You whimpered, with your body glued on the door frame.

Having the wooden door behind you being knocked on so harshly made your body shake a little.

"Open the door, please"

"Scaramouche… I'm fine, you can leave"

"I can smell your scent from miles away, omega. If there's something you need right now it's someone to take care of your heat, right?"

'How can him be so accurate?' You thought to yourself.

"Come on, we've done this before-"

Before he could finish his line, you opened the door slowly, blushing while you watched a grin form on his lips.

Pulling your body against his, the harbinger whispered in your ear, close enough to make your body shiver.

"I know exactly what you need, my love" The door behind you both was closed abruptly.

"So… Can I finally help you?" His fingers gripped your chin weakly, only applying enough pressure so he could make your lips touch.

His cold nose brushed against your neck, breathing in your sweet scent, before so soon, a kiss being stolen from you.

It started softly, almost showing his affection towards you but soon he deepened the kiss until your lips were sore.

"Why do you smell so good?" Scaramouche whispered, pressing kisses down your neck.

"Make love to me, please" You whimpered, gripping his clothes with weak and shaken hands.

"You seem to not be able to focus on anything else besides my hands. Tell me, my love. Do you want me to do something with them?"

"Touch me, please" You whimpered.

"Ah, I see. You're so obediently waiting for me to start playing around with you, yet I'm here, all words, no actions" His fingers left your chin to hold your face delicately, with his thumb brushing against your lower lip before he could steal a peck from you. "Let's get started with this" He whispered while laying you down on the comfortable bed before getting above you.

A soft squeeze on the flesh of your breasts was enough to make you whimper.

And the thin fabric of your shirt made you feel every stimulation of his fingers against your nipples. They always had been a sensitive spot of yours and Scaramouche seemed to understand that rather quickly with the help of your reactions.

Soon the soft touches were lowered to the level of your hips and thighs. The skilled fingers gained goosebumps from your body as the harbinger carefully explored your weaknesses.

At some point, you unconsciously opened your legs, giving him enough room so he could finally touch your sex. Pulling your panties to the side, he teased your clit with his middle finger until it was soaked with your slick.

"It seems you're nice and ready for me, even though I barely touched you" You felt his fingers brushing against your aching walls as he thrusted them into your sex. “Fuck, you’re perfect"

You swallowed dryly with his statement, trying to not sound that needy.

His fingers' pace suddenly became faster and the constant stimulation made you reach your high so easily it was almost comic.

"Your little sounds are so cute yet so sinful" The harbinger whispered, taking his fingers off your walls right before he licked them clean. "And your taste is so freaking addictive I could eat you up all night long”

“Scara… I need you now” You gasped, cheeks red in embarrassment.

“You made a mess of me, doll" You could see through his pants how hard you had gotten him. “Wanna feel it inside of you, my love?” You nodded.

Watching him taking off his shorts and underwear made you not pay attention to his next actions.

Your heart skipped a beat when he pulled your body close to his.

Your faces were really close once again that night as you felt the urge to pull him for a kiss before anything else could happen.

"Can I?" He asked for permission after corresponding to your kiss.

"I’m yours"

Even though you were ready for him, it was difficult for you to take him properly inside your walls.

The soft squeezes your insides made every now and then made him almost lose concentration while he built his pace up.

"You feel so freaking good~" He was strong enough to pin you down with only one hand, as the other stimulated your bundle of nerves. "I absolutely adore how vulnerable you look while I ravish you like this"

"Scara..." You squirmed under him as your orgasm got closer. "Deeper, please"

A smile formed on his lips before he took your legs from his waist to put them above his shoulders, allowing him to reach deeper within you.

You saw his frame through your blurry eyes: his hair looked so beautiful even when the indigo locks were messy because of his movements. His hand wasn't holding your own against the mattress anymore so you took the chance to caress his hair with love before pleading;

“Bite me” And your wish was finally fulfilled before the harbinger laughed quietly at how lovely you looked: red cheeks, plumpy lips, sweaty and marked skin with some of the hickeys he had given you. “Fuck… I’m close…”

“Don’t cum without my permission” He ordered, before thrusting against your sex even faster, making your hips sore. Holding back your orgasm made you feel weak, but obeying his orders to make him proud was worth it.

“Please…” You whimpered, marking his back with soft scratches. “Please, let me cum, master… I c-can’t hold it any longer…”

A smile formed on his lips.

“Deliver it to me, my darling” Was what he said before both of your bodies got soft due your climax. "I'm glad I finally made you mine again after craving you for so damn long" Pulling him to a kiss, you both exchanged glances of affection before you asked him for another detail.

"Don't pull out" You whimpered, bringing his body ever closer to yours.

"I won’t pull out for now…" You felt a kiss against the skin of your neck.

“Could you cuddle me?” You whispered shyly.

“So pure and so passionate…” His thumb brushed against your lips. “I’ll cuddle you all night long, my doll. And in the morning, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about the Tsaritsa rules”

• Time break •

The next morning, you still felt his body against yours, cuddling you with love.

“Scara…?”

“I’m here”

"Could you make me yours once again?"

Venti's Scenario

16. “I think we were a little too loud last night”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission”

26. “I think ropes would look lovely on you”

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

53. “Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"Being so vulnerable and devoted to your God is something beautiful, my muse" The bard's voice was nothing but a murmur against your lips. "I could almost write a song about our love, so the winds would tell the entire Teyvat the story of a mere bard and his loved one" With that, the kiss finally started, making you melt under his body. His tongue explored your mouth with delicacy, slowly sucking your own tongue every now and then before he broke the contact to breathe properly.

You felt something brushing against your arms' skin before you gasped his name.

"Venti..." A smile formed on his lips.

"I think ropes would look lovely on you"

"Ropes...? Are you planning-" A cute giggle left his lips before the god started bondaging your body to his taste.

"Your innocence is so sweet, my muse"

The first spot that got his attention were your breasts and a silly but meaningful idea crossed his mind.

His slim fingers traced patterns above your flesh, making you focus on what was he writing against your skin.

"M... I... N... E..." You whispered. "Mine..."

"You're a quick learner, my muse" His face got closer to yours so he could murmur something against your ear. "You belong to me" Lowering his head, his tongue now swirling around your nipples, making you squirm under him while his slim fingers traveled to your core, stimulating you to the point that tears of pleasure formed in the corner of your eyes.

"Venti... Just like that..." His fingers stretched you out for him for long minutes until your body couldn't take it anymore.

Your whimpers told him you were close, but letting you cum without having him inside you so he could feel the soft squeezes of your walls while he marked you with his seed was a waste.

“Don’t cum without my permission” He told you with a demanding tone, before letting his fingers go off you. "You should do as I say, right, my muse? You want to make your master proud, don't you?"

"Yes, Venti... I wanna make you proud of me"

"Ne, my muse... You provoked me all day long... Touching me, stealing kisses and whispering lewd thoughts against my ear... You really thought you're the one in charge in this relationship?" A soft chuckle left his lips before he entered your sex without much warning.

"F-Fuck... Mhm~" Your back arched a little in the perfect angle to show how deep he was into you with the bulge on your belly. "So... S-So deep..." Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you felt his hips collapsing against yours at a hard pace.

"Look at you... You can barely talk properly, my muse..." He kissed your forehead. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

The ropes created enough friction against your skin to provide some pain that mixed with pleasure made you feel alive for once.

His length brushed against the certain spot that made you melt under him while he marked your body as his and his only.

"Barbatos-" His true name left your mouth when you felt overstimulated for the first time that night. "Too much..."

"Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it”

"All I need is you, now" You said softly in answer, even though you were feeling so many sensations that your mind was foggy.

You didn’t remember much of what happened after you finally reached your climax.

You could say you whimpered when you felt his warm essence entering your womb, instinctively pulling his body against yours as you both came down from your high.

Your body was feeling too heavy and sleepiness made you fall into a slumber.

The next morning, the sunlight woke you up.

"Windblume..." Venti, who was cuddling you, whispered in your ear. "Good morning, my muse" You squeezed his hand as an answer, still way too sleepy to start a conversation.

"I think we were a little too loud last night" Was the only thing you said within long minutes of cuddling.

"Oh... You think so, my muse? But... I must admit that being a bit loud is part of my personality" He kissed your neck delicately to not hurt the sore skin from his hickeys. "Mhm... Windblume?"

"Yes?"

“I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"V-Venti, come on... I still work at the tavern, you know?" You complained.

"Ne, it's okay, princess. People will simply know that you belong to me forever" His voice became mischievous. "And you can't say you weren't in the mood for some marks"

Xiao's Scenario

8. "You’re so turned on already? That was fast"

11. "I want you now"

14. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good”

32. “Make love to me, please”

51. “Your scent drives me crazy”

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”* Changed to: "I may or may not leave some marks on you"

Having the one woman that messed up with the adeptus' feelings right in front of him made him aware of what could happen next.

"Xiao...?" You asked quietly, getting up from your bed at Wangshu Inn rapidly.

"My apologies. Appearing out of nowhere like I do may scare humans like you. I just felt I should check on you, is all" His eyes glowed intensely inside the barely illuminated room.

"To... Check on me?" You asked confused, since he almost never showed up to you, even though he was always in the same area.

He didn't answer you, but a scoff of irritation left his lips, making you shiver.

"Is there something wrong? Are you hurt...?"

"I need to be honest, is all, (Name)" His voice carried some frustration.

You nodded, giving him space to start talking whenever he felt comfortable to do so. The worst thing you could do with Xiao was pressuring him in any way.

"I hate feeling like this. But you changed me. You managed to destroy the walls I passed centuries building up just so I could isolate myself from anyone or anything. You with your way of being... You showed me a side of myself I didn't even know was alive anymore. You showed me that perhaps giving myself a chance to start over isn't as dreadful as I thought..." He approached you with careful steps, checking your reactions to see if he could go any further.

Your heart skipped a beat with his words.

So after all this time you both had met... Xiao was finally able to comprehend what he was truly feeling?

"I'm stretching on this speech... What I need to say is... I love you, and I need you, (Name)"

The distance between you two disappeared when you pulled him to a kiss.

• Time break •

"Your scent drives me crazy" The adeptus almost whimpered against the crook of your neck. "I've been trying to deny my feelings towards you but it's useless... I think we just need to get carried away with our urges"

His hands moved swiftly across your body, your breasts, arms and thighs.

"I want you now" He moans as he pulls your panties to the level of your knees just so he could rub your clit against his thumb.

"Xiao..." Your voice was shaky. "S-So sensitive..."

"You’re so turned on already? That was fast" The adeptus teases as he feels you squeeze the finger he now pumped inside your heat.

Your little sounds made the most sinful thoughts cross his mind while he explored possibilities with your body.

"Good, good..." He murmurs as he continues to work your clit with his thumb while two other fingers stimulate your sweet spots. "Such a good girl you're, (Name)..."

"Please... I need more" You gasped.

"Make love to me, please” You moan as you feel his hands on your breasts just so his fingers could pinch your nipples.

He then slams into you, filling you so perfectly well that every muscle of your body goes into spasm. Your eyes water as you try to blink them back shut, but you can't stop the hot tears from streaming down your cheeks as your body continues to tremble every single time Xiao thrusts into your insides.

“Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good” His voice was raw, showing the side of him he always tried to hide

"Oh gods" You mutter as you clutch his shoulders and kiss him, your tongue exploring his mouth as he kisses you back.

You feel his hands on your hips, then his fingers trailing down your inner thighs he holds you tightly during your lovemaking.

You can feel the tip of his length almost pressing against your cervix, and you can feel as your walls tightened around him as your orgasm hits you.

"Xiao..." You sounded like an angel to him. Pressing his body against your even more with your legs as his hips rock back and forth against yours non-stop, you soon felt he had finally reached his high.

A warm liquid marked every of your walls' crevices in jolts, as his breathing became uneasy right before Xiao stole a kiss from your lips.

An almost aggressive kiss that showed you his desires were not satisfied just yet.

"I'm not done with you yet” A weak smile formed on his lips as he brushed a lock from your hair out of your forehead. "May this night make up for the time we've lost"

"Still..." He continues. "I may or may not leave some marks on you"

"It's not like I'll mind them" You answered before changing positions.

Zhongli's Scenario

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-"

11. “I want you now”

14. "Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good"

31. "You want me to claim you, don't you?"

47. "Come for me, you've done so well"

51. “Your scent drives me crazy”

TW: Omegaverse things

"Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-" You whimpered, thinking you were alone inside that place.

You could only hope your scent wasn't too strong or tempting at that moment. Afterall, with your status as an omega and having an alpha being your manager was specifically hard due your instincts.

Your nature could take the best of you at any moment and that thought by itself was almost terrifying.

"Hey" Zhongli's voice made you jolt in place. "Hey, it's okay..."

"Zhongli... You were supposed to come to work only t-tomorrow-" Before you could finish your line your knees faltered due to the weakness from your heat.

To your surprise, strong hands prevent you from falling, leading to both of your bodies pressing against each other.

"Didn’t expect to see me here?" His voice sounded confused. "Or it's only a deception I came here during such a delicate moment, my omega?"

“So you noticed that detail…”

"So warm, sweet and inviting" You felt a kiss against your nape. It was so delicate and desperate it made his mind sink into lewd thoughts. "You're aware of the truth, right?"

“Zhongli…?” He inhaled your aroma slowly, letting every note of your scent trigger the right sensations from his being.

“Sooner or later our natures will take the lead. It’s better to get to know each other while our minds aren’t so hazy”

“Please, m-make this stop-” You whimpered when his fingers pressed against the place a bond mark should be.

“Your scent drives me crazy” The man whispered, before carefully leaning you on the table of the office. “I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours”

Zhongli started kissing your stomach as his hands gripped your hips tightly right before opening your legs with strong hands, massaging your entrance right above the fabric of your panties.

Your back arched a little with the friction and you moaned.

"You're so vulnerable like this it hurts"

“Zhongli… I want you now… I need you now”

"You want me to claim you, don't you?"

"Mhm…"

He was already hard, ready to just penetrate you. Stroking his member and brushing himself against your folds almost drove him insane.

The one who was your boss penetrated you slowly, enjoying every inch of his cock being involved by your wet and warm walls. With his length now entirely inside you, his tip almost reached your cervix.

"Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good"

Morax started his thrusts and your slick only made it easier for him to do what he craved and needed.

His lips captured yours in a warm and slow kiss and his tongue explored your mouth as he stimulated your clit with the fingers of one of his hands.

Everything quickly became too much to you, with your orgasm being so close it almost hurted.

"Alpha!" You whined, your nails scratching his back in pleasure.

"Come for me, you've done so well"

And your body obeyed him that time, and many other times later.

#childe x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #diluc x reader #scaramouche x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #childe smut #kaeya smut #kazuha smut #diluc smut #scaramouche smut #zhongli smut #xiao smut #venti smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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flseur · 2 years ago

Text

꒰ 𐙚 keeping warm — genshin men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : as the days get shorter and the weather gets colder, your boyfriend has other ideas on how to keep warm.

�� characters : diluc, wriothesley, childe ( he's referred to as ajax in the fic )

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, soft sex, riding, praising, size kink, squirting, creampie, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, gagging, edging

౨ৎ note : winter time shenanigans with genshin men ૮ • ﻌ - ა ‘tis the season !

୨୧ DILUC

❥₊ ⊹ after a late meeting with the knights of favonius in the dead of winter, you had unfortunately been caught in one of mondstadt's worst snow storms to date. the wind was blowing harshly and it burned your cheeks. when you had reached dawn wineary, diluc was already anxiously waiting near the front doors with thick blankets, clearly worried about you.

you were shivering, a lot, and diluc feared that the blankets may not do enough for you. so he led you by hand to the washroom to take a warm bath and sitting right behind you in the porcelin tub, pushing stray hairs away from your bare back to wash it. eventually when the two of you got out of the bathtub, you went to diluc's bedroom, hoping that skin to skin contact will warm you up once again.

it started off as innocent cuddling surrounded by blankets, with diluc being the bigger spoon but feathering touches turned into wanderering hands which turned into diluc's large hands leading your hips up and down his thick cock.

"ah... that's it baby..." he moans into your neck, moving one of his hands to your lower back, pushing you closer into him.

he was warm, whether it be from his body conserving heat better than yours or his pyro vision resting on the bedside table to the right of you, you don't know what it is but the warmth felt good.

you continue to ride him, your pussy milking his cock for all it's worth while your clit is rubbing against his abdomen deliciously. soon, a layer of sweat formed on both of you bodies.

"mphm! diluc..." you whine softly, pulling away to look at his face and his crimson eyes are filled with lust but also love, so much love.

"yeah? what is it, love?" he asks, his hands coming up to gently hold your face between them and his fingers brushing some hair away from your eyes. "is something wrong?"

"kiss me, please." you beg.

and he obliges, pressing a sweet kiss on your soft lips then moaning in your mouth when you resume riding him. "fuck, love you so much."

"l-love you too, diluc. s'much. love you so much!" you cry out as diluc lifts you up and starts pistoning his cock erratically in your oozing cunt. your back reacts to the overwhelming amount of pleasure by arching, causing your chest to press against his.

diluc's grip on your waist grew tighter as he neared his orgasm, now all he needed was to feel you cum on his cock. "so good, sweetheart... love your pussy... love you..." he mumbles, pressing open mouth kisses to your collarbone. then his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you and caused you to spiral into your once impending orgasm.

you sobbed as you came, grabbing a hold of diluc's hair as you shook from the sheer amount of pleasure he gave you. from feeling your body shake and your cunt contract around him, diluc's orgasm reached it’s peak and you felt his cock twitch inside of you before his seed flooded your womb.

୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY

❥₊ ⊹ once winter hits in fontaine, there tends to be less to do in the fortress of meropide. there's no work to do, no herbs to gather for sigewinne because all the plants on the surface are dead for the season, and the production of parts for mekas has slowed down immensely. the sanctum becomes dull, boring, and cold. extremely cold. which is why you're thankful for the fireplace that wriothesley had installed in his office.

the warmth from the burning wood accompanied by the warmth, and pleasure, your boyfriend was providing you was perfect.

"doing so good for me, princess..." he groans, he has you on your back on the blue chesterfield placed in front of the fireplace, legs resting around his wide waist while he splits you open with his thick cock.

"hng... w-wrio, shit!" you moan, wriothesley's pace was unrelenting. he didn't care if anyone heard how loud you were being, the messy sounds of him fucking you amazingly was already reverberating throughout the room.

wriothesley had a strong grip on you, fingertips digging almost painfully into your hips. you felt fucking incredible, your sloppy little cunt was practically dragging him deeper and begging for him to cum inside. to fill you completely, to mark you as his.

each thrust into your pussy was calculated, precise, and accentuated, making the mix of your arousal and wriothelsey's precum ooze out from inside of you. he could tell that you were going to cum soon, you were moaning louder, your fingers were leaving red, hot, angry lines in their wake on the lateral muscles of his back, and you were clamping down impossibly tighter on his cock.

"y'gonna cum soon, baby? good fucking girl. cum all over my dick. make a mess." he coos, pulling his cock almost completely out, leaving only his tip in before ramming it back inside of you.

"mhm! gonna cum! wrio, oh m'god!" you hiccup, then moan louder as he brings one of your legs to rest on his broad shoulders with one hand while the other reaches down and toys with your clit.

the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you cry out as you cum hard, and everywhere. your arousal covered wriothesley's cock and lower abdomen, nearly soaking him completely. tears begin to flood your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm and wriothesley continuing to fuck you, "please, please cum inside." you babble.

"oh, fuuuck." wriothesley moans, fucking into you at a quicker pace to reach his orgasm. then when he cums, warmth spreads across your stomach and you feel him covers your walls in white.

when wriothesley pulls out of your messy pussy, a string of yours and his arousal is connected to his cock. "i really made a mess of you, huh?" he chuckles.

"shut up!" you laugh, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him.

୨୧ CHILDE

❥₊ ⊹ while it's well known about the rigid extremities of winters in snezhaya, and not being from there, they felt particularly more... harsh, on you because you're not used to them.

so when childe asked you to come with him to visit his family for the holidays, you thought you were prepared by packing and wearing extra layers but you were proved very, very wrong. and because your boyfriend is ever so caring, he realized how much you were struggling to conserve heat and brought up another idea on how to keep you warm.

"a-ajax... we shouldn't, your family is in the other room." you weakly protest, clearly not completely against his idea because when he pulls down your panties, almost pathetically a string of arousal is connected to them.

"yeah?" he chuckles, "your pussy says otherwise, babe."

"don't say things like that!" you whisper-yell.

"mhm... whatever you want..." childe mumbles, too enamored by your glistening cunt. "i'm putting it, okay?"

"'kay..." you say, your hands tightly grab at the counter in the washroom when you feel how his thick cock sinks into you. "o-oh..."

"shiiit... you sure you didn't want to do this?" he teases before bottoming out completely.

"hng!" you begin to moan out before childe puts two fingers in your mouth.

"i know baby, i know... but you gotta stay quiet..." he lightly scold, still thrusting his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. "so fucking pretty. prettiest girl in the world. so lucky you're all mine." childe watches the way the your ass recoils at each snap of his hips like he's in a trance, truly you were a sight to see.

he was reaching so deep inside of you and you wish you could scream it to the high heavens. your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the stimulation, you could feel your slick and his cum make a mess between your thighs and you didn't know how much longer your legs could hold you up.

as if he could read your mind, childe pulls out abruptly and you whine at the loss of contact before he manhandles you into turning around and picking you up to have half of your ass on the edge of the counter.

"wrap your legs around my waist..." he whispers in your ear and you do so. childe thrust the entire length of his cock back into your cunt and your arms fling around his neck, grabbing at the short hairs of his head.

"o-oh my god... ajax!" you sob, trying to grab onto anything or everything to keep you anchored onto him. his pace was erratic and you swore at the angle he was fucking you at, you could feel him in your stomach.

"so. fucking. tight." childe growls in your ear. even though the two of you were trying to be quiet, the sounds of skin on skin was filling the room with your silent moans. and the tie in your stomach was about to snap, you were about to cum, hard.

"fuck, fuck, fuck... 'm cumming, a-ajax! oh my go—-" and then he stopped.

"what? why did you do that?" you begin to question until childe put his finger to his mouth and hushing, then thats when you heard it.

knock! knock! knock!

"ajax, sweetie? is y/n alright in there?" you hear childe's mom on the other side of the door.

"yeah, mom!" he yells back. "she's just a little cold!"

#𐙚 works #genshin impact #diluc x reader #wriothesley x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #diluc x you #wriothesley x you #tartaglia x you #childe x you #diluc smut #wriothesley smut #tartaglia smut #childe smut #genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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vxlentinescookies · 5 months ago

Note

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them.

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books. So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here”

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god?

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner.

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

#🌙;stellar headcanons #🌙;moonlit dreams #⭐; Self Aware AU #longan dragon cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #timekeeper cookie x reader #millennial tree cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x reader

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achromatophoric · 24 days ago

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Ajax: Hey, B. Is it just me or does Addams look like she’s on something?

Bianca: *turns to scrutinize the seer seated several tables away* Hmm.

Bianca: Pupils unnaturally dilated. Excessive sweating. She hasn’t snapped at anyone today. And… *squints*

Wednesday: 🙂

Bianca: *wrinkles her nose* Yup. She’s definitely been dosed.

Ajax: Dude, no way! With what?

Bianca: E.

Ajax: *gasps* E as in Ecstasy?!

Bianca: No, dumbass. E as in—

Enid: Howdy, babycakes! This seat taken?

Enid: *doesn’t wait for an answer as she boldly straddles Wednesday and begins to possessively affectionately scent her*

Ajax/Bianca: ‼️😲🙄

Wednesday/Enid: 🫠🥰💕

#enid is wednesday’s drug of choice #ajax petropolus #bianca barclay #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wednesday netflix #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday addams #short incorrect quote #short incorrect wenclair

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tortillamastersblog · 15 days ago

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Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 13 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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I wake with a start, the sound of the monster’s roar and Eugene’s cry of pain echoing in my mind. I sit up groggily, and drag my hands down my face.

It’s been two days since Eugene was attacked. Two days since the Rave’N and Wednesday’s betrayal.

I’m not even sure I can call it that because I should have seen it coming, but I don’t know what else to call it.

I’m still burning with embarrassment and frustration for ever trusting her in the first place. It’s like I said before, she does what she wants and she doesn’t care who she hurts in the process.

I’m not even sure she knows what going to the dance with Tyler did to me…

I get out of bed and pad into my en suite, stripping out of my sweat soaked pajamas and stepping into the shower.

It’s almost seven, and the sun is just starting to peek over the horizon. Despite what happened, today is a normal school day and I’m planning on going to classes like normal because on top of everything else, I can’t afford to fall behind on my school work too.

After talking to Weems and Sheriff Galpin in Weems’ office on Friday night, right after Eugene was taken to the hospital, she said I could take as much time off as I’d like, but I’m not taking any time off.

I can’t. I’m exhausted and drained to my core, but I can’t take time off because if I do, I’ll overthink everything that happened.

A rational part of me knows what happened to Eugene isn’t my fault, but I can’t help but still feel guilty that I didn’t get to him quicker.

I should have known he wouldn’t listen. I should have known he’d go out alone…

Weems and Thornhill came to check on me over the last two days, and reassured me Eugene was stable, but their reassurances did nothing to get me to leave my room.

I shut off the water after scrubbing myself clean. It feels like Eugene’s sticky blood is still all over my body but there’s nothing else I can do about it, so I get dressed back in my room after toweling off.

It feels wrong, putting on my school uniform and going to class as if nothing happened, but I have no other choice.

I finish getting dressed and make my bed before grabbing my bag and heading to breakfast.

If I wasn’t as hungry as I am, I’d skip it, but ever since Friday night I’m hungrier than ever.

“Y/N!” Enid waves me over to her table as soon as I make it to the Quad. I hesitate for a moment before joining her alongside Yoko and, to my surprise, Ajax.

“Hi guys,” I mumble, sliding my tablet onto the table and taking a seat. I feel all their worried eyes on me but ignore them in favor of shoveling cereal into my mouth.

“How are you?” Enid is the first one to break the silence, and I barely glance up to answer.

“Fine.”

I catch her sharing a concerned look with Yoko and Ajax before turning back to me. “You know what happened is not your fault, right?”

I pause with my spoon halfway up to my mouth and look at her. She’s chewing on her lower lip, anxious for my reaction.

I sigh and drop my eyes back down to my cereal. “I know. But I should have been there earlier. If I’d just–” “You couldn’t have known,” Ajax cuts me off softly. He shifts in his seat which is when I see that he’s actually holding Enid’s hand under the table.

Huh.

That’s new.

I don’t know how or when that happened, but a small part of me is glad that they finally figured out their feelings.

I shake my head, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Luckily, they get it and after a moment of silence, Yoko adjusts her sunglasses and leans forward on the table, saying, “So, have you heard what happened at the dance?”

I eat another spoonful of cereal and shake my head no even though I don’t really care.

“Lucas Walker and his friends hooked up a water tank filled with red paint to the sprinkler system and set it off,” she says with a cringe.

So that was what Wednesday and Thornhill were covered in… It doesn’t surprise me that it happened because Lucas and his friends have always had a certain disdain for us outcasts, but I didn’t think after destroying Xavier’s mural last year they’d do something like that again. But then again, Wednesday did beat them up at the Weathervane, so I guess that stirred up their hatred once more.

I get the revulsing suspicion that Tyler had something to do with it because he used to be friends with Lucas and he was at the dance, but then Yoko’s eyes flicker to Enid who shrinks in her seat.

I raise an eyebrow and look at her, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Lucas asked me to the ball,” she says quietly, “And I went with him…”

“Which gave him the chance to let his friends onto the premises,” I conclude, making her nod.

I sigh and offer her a sympathetic yet tight-lipped smile. “It wasn’t your fault. He’s an asshole. They all are.”

The irony of my words is not lost on me because as much as the paint disaster wasn’t Enid’s fault, Eugene getting hurt wasn’t mine, but I can’t bring myself to believe it.

Ajax and Yoko nod, and Ajax even kisses Enid’s cheek in consolation which makes the blonde’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

I squeeze her forearm and go back to eating, letting the ensuing conversation about the upcoming parents’ weekend wash over me until a familiar heartbeat across the Quad makes me look up.

Wednesday is standing right there in her black school uniform and signature braids. She’s holding a tray and looking right at me with an unprecedented look of uncertainty on her face.

The sight of her makes my heart flutter involuntarily, but when she takes a step forward, seemingly heading in our direction, I clench my jaw and get to my feet.

“Y/N–?” Ajax raises an eyebrow.

I grab my tray, my fingers curling tight around it, and avert my eyes from Wednesday. “Sorry guys,” I say, “I forgot something in my room. I gotta go before class starts.”

Enid and Yoko look like they’re about to protest, but I slip away before they get the chance. Of course I didn’t forget anything. I just don’t want to see Wednesday right now, much less talk to her.

She knocked on my door once yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t answer her. Whatever she has to say, she can save it. I don’t want to hear it. Thing even came tapping on my window, but I didn’t let him in, choosing to ignore him even though he’s technically done nothing wrong.

At the end of the day he’s still Wednesday’s family, and I know he’d try to get us to make up, which is something I’m just not willing to do right now.

She asked me for help and then bailed on me.

I also realized I keep giving, whether it’s helping her or saving her, while she just keeps on taking. She hasn’t even thanked me once for all I’ve done for her, much less apologized for what happened yesterday, so I’d rather stay away from her for the time being.

Weems has instated very strict curfews after what happened with Eugene, and she’s told me Wednesday is already on thin ice for blowing up Crackstone’s statue, so I know that, for time being, she won’t do anything reckless that will require any saving.

I pause for a moment before pushing open the door to Eugene’s hospital room. It’s Friday, exactly one week since he’s been attacked, and he’s still in a coma.

The sight of him on his bed, pale, intubated and covered in cuts and bruises makes my heart sink, and it takes another moment for me to get my feet moving again.

I enter the room and close the door behind me before grabbing a chair and pulling it next to his bed. The overwhelming smell of antiseptic makes my eyes sting, but I take a seat nonetheless and take his hand in mine, being mindful of the IV on the back of his hand.

He looks so small like this, even younger than he actually is, and I feel tears sting my eyes.

“You didn’t deserve this,” I whisper, squeezing his hand softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner…” He doesn’t move– of course he doesn’t– and I exhale shakily, listening to the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor next to his bed.

It’s weird being this close to him and not feeling any emotions radiating off him. Normally, he’s filled with this buzz of excitement, but now there’s just nothing…

I perk up when the image of my hands glowing on his stomach pops into my mind, and I try to channel my powers to heal him again, but nothing happens.

Frustration bubbles up inside me because I don’t know how I did it in the forest, I just did, and now it’s not working anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper again, giving up and closing my eyes.

I sit with him for what feels like ages before a nurse comes in and tells me visiting hours are over.

I look out of the window and see that the sun is about to set, so I get up again, feeling a crick in my neck.

“I’ll be back,” I promise Eugene, squeezing his hand one last time before leaving and taking a cab back to school.

As soon as I walk through the gates, I get a text from Enid, asking me to come to her room. I pause for a second because I don't want to see Wednesday, but her heartbeat is off in the grounds of Nevermore, probably tending to Eugene's bees, so I text Enid back that I'll be right there.

I cut through the courtyard, the sun now gone, leaving behind a faint pink glow as the night settles in, and head into the school.

I make my way to Ophelia Hall, getting wary and curious glances from a couple students I pass on the way, before knocking on Enid’s and Wednesday’s door.

Ever since what happened in the forest, there has been a lot of talk about what really happened and how I somehow managed to get away unscathed while Eugene is now clinging to life in a hospital bed. I try to ignore them most of the time, but it’s difficult sometimes because people have started questioning my powers again. Before they just let me be, wondering what I am and what I can do, but never really questioning it. Now that has changed and under the premise of the book also being gone, I feel more exposed than ever.

Enid opens the door and I enter, my eyes immediately darting to Wednesday’s side of the room since I’ve not been in here since she moved in.

It’s exactly as Enid described it. While her side is all rainbows and butterflies with a bunch of stuffed animals, Wednesday’s side is dark, monochrome and kind of gothic. Her sheets are black and gray and her desk is empty except for her vintage typewriter. Her cello is perched on a stand in the corner next to her bed, right next to an old record player.

Enid snorts when she sees me taking it all in and jumps onto her bed. “Tasteful, isn’t it?”

I just shrug, knowing she’s being sarcastic and cross the room to take a seat. I swivel around to face her and raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain why she asked me to come up here, but she doesn’t say anything.

She just wrings her hands together, looking all guilty and when I hear the soft pitter-patter of Thing scuttling across the floor, I know why.

I sigh and get back to my feet. “Enid–”

She scrambles off the bed and steps in my way with her hands up and a pleading look. “No, wait. Thing just wants to talk to you.”

I cross my arms and watch the hand climb onto Enid's bed, approaching me tentatively.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him,” I say, going to brush past her, but she grabs my upper arm and stops me. I raise an eyebrow at her, which makes her let go immediately again, but she still doesn’t step out of my way.

“Please, just hear him out. I can’t take it anymore. The whole school can tell you’re avoiding Wednesday like the plague and it’s getting out of hand.”

I scoff and tighten the grip I have on my upper arms, not so sure what she means by getting out of hand. I’m simply avoiding her. I do go out of my way to avoid her in the hallways sometimes, but I can’t imagine anyone actually caring. “I’m sorry, Enid, but this is none of your business, what happened between Wednesday and me–”

“Was a series of unfortunate events,” she cuts me off. I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. I wasn’t aware she knew what went down between us, but Thing or even Wednesday herself must have told her. The former seems the more plausible of the two options, but at this point, I’m not sure what to believe anymore.

Wednesday is a mystery I’ve grown tired of understanding, despite my ears still heating up every time I catch a glimpse of her around school.

“Please, just sit,” Enid asks quietly, and despite myself, I do, sinking back down in her desk chair.

Thing scuttles over the bed and onto the table while Enid takes a seat on the edge of the bed with her hands clasped in her lap.

I keep my arms crossed and turn the chair so I can see both of them. Then… “Well?”

Thing takes a moment before getting right into it, signing, Wednesday went to the dance with Tyler because of me.

I frown. “Excuse me?”

He moves closer to the edge of the table and I dare a glance at Enid before focusing on him again.

I invited him on her behalf, he signs which makes me clench my jaw. I go to ask why he’d do that, but he goes on. He likes her and even though she doesn’t like him back, he’s the Sheriff’s son.

He likes her…

Of course he does. That’s why he’s been acting so weird recently. I’m surprised and bitter at the same time that I didn’t realize it until now.

They fought the morning of the Rave’N because Tyler got jealous of Wednesday going with Xavier.

“So?” I snap. “Why would I care if Tyler is jealous of Xavier? Also what does his being the Sheriff’s son have to do with anything?"

Thing turns to Enid for a split second, almost as if they’re sharing a look before he turns back to me, tapping, If Wednesday is in Tyler’s good graces, there’s a chance she’ll be in the Sheriff’s, too.

I scoff. “You really think that? Sheriff Galpin doesn’t like Wednesday, no matter whether or not she's on good terms with Tyler.”

He made that abundantly clear when Wednesday beat up Lucas Walker and his cronies.

Thing goes to tap something else, but I’ve had enough. I can’t believe he did that. Yes, I know now that Wednesday going to the dance with Tyler wasn’t exactly of her own volition, but she could have said no after all. She didn’t have to go with him. She could have blown him off, but she didn’t.

“You know what, this is stupid.” I get to my feet, making Enid panic and get up as well again.

“No, please, Y/N. You have to understand where Thing was coming from. He was trying to protect Wednesday and–”

The door opens, cutting her off and making me freeze at the sight of Wednesday. She’s still in her school uniform, but she doesn’t have her bag with her. She’s also holding a glass of honey, which confirms my earlier conclusion that she was at the bee shed.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice tight with hesitation. Her eyes flicker to me and I ball my hands into fists before looking away.

“Nothing,” I say, brushing past Enid.

Thing jumps off the desk behind me, probably to stop me, but I don’t slow down. I cross the room, feeling Wednesday’s eyes on me all the way until I’m in front of her.

I go to side-step her, but she actually shifts, blocking my way, her hand twitching as though she wants to reach for me. “Wait.”

She’s so close I get a whiff of the cold evening air still clinging to her and mingling with the smell of cedar wood and fresh linen. It makes my heart skip a beat, but I ignore it and look up to glare at her.

“What?”

She swallows thickly and her dark eyes dart between mine, but in the end she doesn’t say anything, so I push past her, hating how my fingers burn where they brush against her hand.

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

Little bit of a filler chapter but oh well...

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven @iwshemj2 @jizzuo308 @trashcannotbealive @gloriousvariant @brocoliisscared @1863rdorv-reader

#x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday series

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thedemoninme141 · 2 months ago

Text

Are Flowers Even Real?

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 8K-ish.

Summary: A florist’s voice brings color to Wednesday's world—until all that remains are flowers, silence, and a question that won’t stop echoing in her mind.

Theme: Angst, Heavy Angst! Loss. Blood.

Warnings: Some might already guess the plot with the pic above, the theme's a bit vague here too but it will be all clear at the end kinda like my Restless dreams or lost valentine's.

She used to hate this.

People who couldn’t help themselves—who spilled every thought like it mattered, who narrated their lives in real-time like the world was desperate to listen. Enid had done that every day of their shared dorm years. “Oh my God, you won’t believe what Ajax said,” and “I saw the cutest squirrel near the quad!” and “Wednesday, are you even listening to me?” She wasn’t, mostly. Not really.

Back then, she counted words like falling leaves in autumn—an inevitable mess. She hated the noise, the color, the feeling. Enid had been loud and bubbly and relentlessly present.

But you?

You made noise feel like quiet. Like it mattered.

Now she held the phone to her ear like it was lifeblood. Like it was you.

And your voice was soft today. Soft, but fast—your usual pace when you were excited or tired, or both. The hum of your flower shop drifted into the background.

“Okay, so—today was chaos. And I know I say that every time, but I mean it, this time? Pure chaos.”

Your voice was light, and she didn’t interrupt. She doesn’t roll her eyes. She closes them. Leans back against the cold bark of the tree behind her, the night wind slipping through the forest like a hand across skin.

There’s blood somewhere nearby, but she’s not thinking about that yet.

"This bride walks in—and I mean, she had this energy, right? Like she’s never heard the word ‘budget’ in her life. She’s dragging her fiancé behind her like he’s an old suitcase, and she’s listing every flower under the sun. Roses, peonies, baby’s breath, lavender, delphinium, freesia, tulips—I mean, Wednesday, she wanted them all. For one bouquet. Who does that?!"

Your voice had that kind of bright rhythm she’d never admit she looked forward to. The pitch of it changed depending on the flowers you were talking about—soft when you said “lilies,” amused when you said “sunflowers,” reverent when you said “gardenias.” You loved your flowers. You were annoyingly loyal to them, like they were alive, like they had personalities.

“...I told her it wasn’t going to look like a bouquet if we threw in every single bloom from every hemisphere,” you continued, laughing to yourself. “I even suggested doing a seasonal theme instead, but she looked at me like I just asked if she wanted a bouquet of weeds.”

You laughed, breathy and exasperated. Wednesday closed her eyes. Just for a second.

"Have you ever had to calculate fifty-four table arrangements, not including the bridal arch and the aisle runners, in under thirty minutes? Because I have. Today. Today, I did that.”

She could hear the smile in your voice, even through the stress.

“And then, oh—oh, get this—her fiancé shows up with a last-minute request for a boutonniere made of succulents. Succulents! For a winter wedding! Who even—?!” You groaned, a theatrical sigh. “Anyway. I didn’t say no. Of course I didn’t. I just nodded and smiled like a professional while internally praying for divine intervention.”

She doesn’t respond. Her jaw clenches, the silence between your sentence and her reply longer than it should be. But you don’t comment. You never did. You understood her silence was never empty—it was just crowded with too many words.

“I’m gonna be late tonight,” you say after a pause, your voice dropping into a soft kind of tired. “Definitely pushing midnight. I still have to sort out the invoices—do math, ugh—and call the supplier who keeps sending me crushed orchids. I swear I’m gonna fight that man.”

“Do you want me to kill him?” Wednesday asks flatly.

A beat of silence on your end. Then: “Mm… tempting. But I think you should save that kind of rage for someone who deserves it more.”

She opens her eyes. Watches her breath ghost into the cold night air. “I do.”

“Oh, and get this—” you pause suddenly, voice pulling away like you're shouting over your shoulder, “Sorry, we’re closed! Yeah, we stay open from eight a.m. to eight p.m. No exceptions! Thank you! God, I need a sign that actually scares people away.” You came back like you’d never left. “Where was I? Oh right. Hell orders. Seriously, though, this bride is lucky I didn’t charge her a stress fee. I should start doing that. I’ll call it the ‘flower frenzy’ tax. Like, if your expectations are out of control, that’s ten percent extra for emotional damage.”

Wednesday finally spoke, her voice low and dry. “You’d never charge anyone extra for being overwhelmed. You like chaos. You call it ‘natural.’”

“I do not!”

“You do. You said that exact phrase last week.”

You laughed again. “Okay, maybe I did. Once. But I was high on pollen and caffeine. Not a reliable source.”

The call was winding down now. She could feel it. The energy in your voice had started to fade—just a little. Still bright, still you, but… slipping. Like the sun behind curtains.

“Anyway. I should get back to it. I’ve got calculations to do, receipts to cry over, and oh—! I almost forgot—one of the orchids bloomed today. The one I thought was going to die last week. It just needed a bit more light, apparently. Go figure.”

Wednesday stared at the moon. Didn’t blink.

“Oh—and I love you, by the way. Just in case I forget to say it later. You should try it sometime too, you know. I promise your tongue won’t turn black and fall off.”

Another beat. Then a quieter, sheepish: “Okay. Talk later.” The line went dead.

Wednesday doesn’t move for a long moment. She keeps the phone to her ear even after the silence settles.

Then, slowly, she lowers the phone. Pockets it with the careful reverence of an addict putting away the last dose.

Her hand brushes against cold steel. She wraps her fingers around the handle of the knife. Pulls it out.

There’s a sound—scraping, desperate.

The man in front of her, half-covered in dirt, is trying to crawl away. He’s bleeding from the mouth, knees shredded from dragging himself over rocks.

He looks back. Sees her. Freezes.

She doesn’t say a word.

Just steps forward, slow. Controlled.

The knife glints.

Her voice, calm as ever, cuts the silence.

“One finger at a time now.”

She had come to your shop out of habit. Or maybe it was curiosity. Or the way you said, “You should visit sometime,” like it was just a law of nature. You’d said it with your hands buried in soil and a daisy tucked behind your ear, completely unaware of the chaos you caused with every smile.

The bell above your door had jingled, and the moment she stepped inside, she was swallowed whole by a riot of scent and color. Flowers bled from every surface—sunlight dripped through windows onto baskets of wild blooms, and you were already at the counter, fussing with a vase like the world wasn’t quietly tilting on its axis.

She stood in the doorway for too long. You looked up, grinned

“Good evening, Miss Addams. You stalking me again?”

Wednesday stepped forward slowly, arms crossed behind her back. “I was in the area.”

“You were never in the area before we started dating. Anyway come here. I need help deciding which of these flowers gets to be sacrificed for a bouquet.”

She stood beside you, looking down at the spread of colors and chaos. It was an overwhelming mess—vibrant and overstuffed—but in your hands, it was art. She admired that about you, though she’d never say it. Not out loud. Not directly.

You handed her two stems. “These are Ranunculus. One means charm, the other means attraction. Which one looks more ‘mysterious woman who possibly has a knife in her purse’?”

Wednesday arched a brow. “Neither.”

You fake-gasped, putting a dramatic hand to your chest. “You wound me.”

“Not yet,” she replied, and you laughed like she’d told a joke.

She didn’t correct you.

You picked up a small bouquet and began trimming stems. “Did you know bleeding hearts mean undying love?”

Wednesday blinked slowly. Of course she knew. She learned the language of flowers in her second year at Nevermore—before she met you. She could read petals like poetry, dissect colors like motives. She memorized the meanings the way most kids memorized multiplication tables.

But she didn’t say that. Instead, she looked at the flower you held up and said, “They look like they’re crying.”

You beamed. “Exactly. They’re dramatic. Just like you.”

“I’m not dramatic,” she said coolly, stepping aside as you nudged past her to reach a coffee cup. “I’m precise.”

“Sure,” you said. “And this isn’t my third cup of coffee.”

You chuckled. “And what about this one?” You picked up a marigold. “It means grief. Despair. Remembrance.”

Her eyes moved from the marigold to your face. You were smiling again, soft at the edges like you always got when talking about meanings, stories, symbolism. You swore half the fun was in the mystery.

Wednesday knew the meanings already.

Of course she did. She’d studied them in Botany. But she never said a word. Never once interrupted you to say, “Yes, I know.” Because she preferred to hear you say it. It was different when it came from your mouth—something in your voice, the way you cradled petals like they mattered. Like you were part of their purpose. And she wanted to be a part of that too.

You spent the rest of the afternoon explaining the meanings of delphiniums and hemlock and hydrangeas. You told her about customers who reminded you of daisies and she just stood there. Watching. Drinking it all in. You told her everything. And Wednesday Addams—queen of silence, princess of the macabre—just sat there and listened like it was her religion.

He couldn’t scream anymore. Only pant. Wet, ragged breaths through clenched teeth. His lips were cracked, and his eyes were wide with the knowledge that he was alive and shouldn’t be.

The sound of agony twisted the air again.

Wednesday sat nearby, legs folded beneath her like she was in a garden. Her phone was pressed to her ear again, as if none of this was happening.

You were laughing on the other end.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I argued with that girl. She wanted orange roses. Orange! For a funeral. I mean, who does that? I asked her if she wanted the flowers to say ‘rest in tropical zest.’”

Wednesday let out a slow breath. “What did she say?”

“She said her grandmother loved citrus. Which is sweet, I guess. So I added lemon balm and marigolds. Made it work.”

“You always do.”

A pause. The wind rustled leaves overhead.

“You sound tired,” you said softly.

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

Another pause.

“I just worry about you,” you said. “All those late nights. Chasing monsters. Investigating murders. You know you don’t have to keep carrying everything alone, right?”

She didn’t answer. Just looked up at the stars that just didn’t shine hard enough anymore so she listened to the sound of your voice like it was oxygen and she’d been holding her breath.

“You’re the most stubborn person I know,” you continued. “But you’re not bulletproof. You’re allowed to rest.”

The man groaned again. Gurgled.

Wednesday’s eyes flicked to him, but she didn’t move. Not yet. Not while you were still speaking. You talked about your day. The cat who scratched a customer. The kid who wanted to eat the flowers.

You said you loved her. Just like always. And she didn’t say it back.

Just like always.

When the call finally ended, when your voice faded into silence again, she took a slow breath. Looked down at the man whose blood soaked the soil.

He was still alive.

She crouched, pulled a wad of cash from her coat, and threw it beside his mangled hand.

“Fix yourself,” she said, voice flat. “You have until the next bloom.”

Then she pulled her phone again.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Attempted homicide. Coordinates incoming,” she replied coldly. “The suspect is injured. Severely. Unarmed. Unconscious.”

Wednesday texted the GPS location, then cut the call short.

She knelt beside the man, “I’ll remember you. Every bone. Every nerve.”

She paused at the edge of the woods.

“And I will be back again.”

You were humming again.

That same wandering, tuneless hum that always floated into the air when you were deep in concentration. Wednesday stood silently in the corner of the flower shop, arms folded, black coat dusted with pale pollen, watching you balance on your toes to reach a top shelf.

She didn’t speak. Just observed.

There was something ritualistic in the way you worked. Like a priestess. Like a witch. Each flower touched with reverence, as if it breathed back at you.

You looked down at her eventually and grinned, sweeping your hands outward toward the display you were building.

“What do you think?” you asked. “Too much? I always overdo the daffodils. They’re too loud, I think. They talk over the tulips.”

“You believe flowers… speak?”

“I think they understand,” you said without hesitation. “Not in words. Not in the way people mean. But they know things. They feel things.”

“This one’s for resilience,” you said, holding up a chrysanthemum.

“People say they’re funeral flowers, but I think they’re just misunderstood.”

Wednesday raised a brow.

You smiled over your shoulder. “They’re stubborn and hard to keep alive and everyone thinks they’re depressing. Sound like anyone you know?”

Wednesday almost smirked. She moved toward the arrangement. Reached out. Brushed her fingers over the white edge of a daisy. The petals were soft. Barely there. Almost like breath. “This,” she murmured, “feels like you.”

You paused, surprised. A flush of red crept across your cheeks, but you didn’t turn away. “That’s one of the gentlest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment. I just said it as an observation.”

You smiled. “That’s why it means more.” You talked as you moved, voice light, melodic, like wind through reeds.

She watched you pick up a sprig of rosemary next. You handed it to her. “Memory,” you said, with something softer in your voice. “This one’s for remembering.”

She took it slowly, fingers brushing yours. It was strange how warm your hands always were. How you held things like they could bruise if you were careless.

Moments like those bled into each other. Quiet exchanges while trimming stems. Her fingers brushing yours when you passed her scissors. Her trying not to stare when you tucked a flower behind your ear.

You started giving her one word every day. One flower. One meaning. Bleeding hearts—undying love. Lavender—devotion. Black tulips—rebirth. Snapdragons—grace under pressure. Rosemary—Remembrance Nightshade—dangerous beauty. She never said she cared. But she remembered every single one.

And then she left. Again. Back to the darkness. Back to blood.

The man was on the ground again.

This time, it was the fingers of his other hand. Gone. Wrapped in bloody gauze that had once been part of his shirt. He was wheezing, tears running down his face as he crawled toward the barn door. He was slower now. Weaker. Still alive.

She crouched beside him again.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, voice mild.

He didn’t respond.

She pulled a knife from her boot and pressed it gently under his chin. He froze.

“I could end it now,” she whispered. “Would that be mercy?

He trembled, said nothing.

She stood. Dropped another thick wad of cash beside him. Then turned and walked away.

She just sat on the hill, watching from the trees as he dragged himself to the road and flagged down a car. She didn’t move. Just watched. Unblinking.

When she finally pulled her phone out, it was almost midnight.

“Where are you?” you asked, and she could hear you yawning.

“Graveyard.”

You laughed. “Only you would take me on a date to hell.”

“Romantic, isn’t it?”

“So much ambiance. Ten out of ten.” There was a long pause. “I miss you,” you said, quieter.

“I know.”

Another pause.

“Do you want to hear something stupid?” you asked.

“Always.”

“I kissed a lily today. Accidentally. I was leaning too close. It kissed me back.”

“Scandalous.”

“I know. We’re basically engaged now.”

She exhaled, something caught in her chest. “Don’t cheat on me with foliage.”

“I’d never.”

Another quiet stretch passed, softer now. You hummed something tuneless.

“Hey,” you said, voice warm, sleepy. “I love you.”

“I—”

She hesitated.

You laughed. “You don’t have to say it. I know.” There was the sound of rustling, you shifting beneath your blankets.

“I’m gonna fall asleep on you,” you mumbled.

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll call you in the morning…”

And you did.

Two days later, the man ran again.

The man had tried to leave town. Made it all the way to the county line.

She found him in the back of a rental truck, bandaged, panicked, clutching a gas can and a stolen phone.

He didn’t even have time to beg.

That night, she called you again. You were tired. She could hear it in your voice.

“Long day,” you murmured.

“I can tell.”

“I had to fill a funeral order. A big one. Lots of lilies.”

She exhaled. “Too many lilies in your life lately.”

I know, right?” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sound tired.”

“So do you.”

“…Stay on the line with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She listened to you breathe. Counted the beats between your sighs. You fell asleep like that—murmuring something about tulips and your heater being broken.

She kept the phone to her ear until the sun came up.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Only silence answered.

Another day, another call,

“Hey, you. I know, I know—I’m late again. I swear this time it’s the register’s fault. Or maybe the marigolds. They were being a little too dramatic today.” You chuckled to yourself, a soft breath of warmth over static. “I had this old Pedro Pascal looking guy come in. Said he needed something ‘apologetic but not desperate.’ I gave him yellow roses. Told him to deliver them with a smile and a very sincere, ‘I’m an idiot.’ He laughed. Paid in cash. Even gave me a tip.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. She sat on the edge of a rooftop, the city crawling beneath her. Her knees drawn up, phone pressed to her ear like a lifeline.

You kept talking.

“There was this one moment though—something stupid. I—I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but… there was this rose. Deep red. Looked almost black in the light. It reminded me of my mom. You know, the way she used to wear that lipstick that bled into the corners of her smile?”

You went quiet.

And then the sound—sharp and soft at once.

A breath caught. A sniffle.

“I—I snapped the stem by accident,” you whispered. “It just broke. And I don’t know why, but I started crying. Like full-on, ridiculous, snot-on-my-apron crying.”

Wednesday closed her eyes. She imagined your face—crumpled in sorrow, eyebrows drawn together in that quiet way you had when you were trying to stay strong for something that didn’t deserve it.

“I felt so dumb,” you laughed. But it wasn’t a happy sound. “It’s just a flower, right? Just… a stem. But I think—I think I was just scared. That I’d forget her. That maybe people aren’t made to last. Maybe even the flowers know.”

Another pause.

She could hear you shift the phone, the way your voice grew smaller. Closer to the truth.

“Sometimes I talk to the flowers because I’m scared no one else will ever really listen.”

She whispered into the speaker, “I listen.”

It was early. Too early for customers, but not too early for you to be animated and half-dressed in an apron and already juggling three ideas at once.

You were on the floor, arranging petals like you were solving a crime scene. She watched from the counter, long legs crossed, sipping bitter black coffee you’d insisted she try—“If I’m suffering, you are too.”

“Okay,” you were saying, lifting a pale marigold to the light, “I know you don’t care about table aesthetics, but imagine this for the engagement party centerpiece.”

“I’ve already told you I’m not interested in centerpieces,” she replied dryly.

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

You turned to her with a grin. “You’re lying.”

“I never lie.”

“Okay. Then you’re emotionally repressed.”

“Fair.”

You snorted and tossed the flower back into the pile. “I still think we should do something small. Intimate. You and me, our parents, maybe five friends, your creepy Uncle Fester playing violin in the corner.”

“He doesn’t play the violin.”

“Well. It’s never too late to learn.”

She watched you with a careful expression, one she reserved for delicate autopsies. It wasn’t suspicion. It was wonder. The way your hands moved. The way you lit up just saying the word “engagement.” Like it wasn’t just a party to you. It was something sacred.

You looked up suddenly. “Hey. Are you okay?”

She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re… doing that thing where you look like you’re somewhere else entirely.”

She tilted her head. “I’m here.”

“Promise?”

She didn’t speak right away.

You stood, brushing petals from your skirt, and stepped close enough for your shadow to fall over her. Your hand brushed her shoulder. “Hey. I need you to say yes. I need you to say you want this too.”

Her eyes flicked to your mouth, your nose, your lashes. “You already know I do.”

“But you haven’t said it.”

“I don’t say things I’m afraid of.”

That caught you of guard. “You’re not afraid of me?”

“No,” she agreed, “I’m afraid of losing you.”

That stopped you.

Your fingers froze on her shoulder, and she felt the tiniest tremble under your skin.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. “Unless you kill me, which I have warned you would be deeply counterproductive to our wedding plans.”

“I’m already planning it then.”

You grinned, eyes gleaming, and for once, Wednesday allowed herself to look. Really look.

At the curve of your lip, at the crease beside your nose when you smiled, at the soft flush of your cheeks. She touched your hand. Pressed her thumb into your palm.

“I’m serious,” you said. “Promise not to kill anyone on the day.”

She smirked. “Not even if they’re rude to the florist?”

“I am the florist.”

“Exactly.”

You laughed, full and bright and real.

She breathed it in like oxygen.

And she began to believe that maybe—just maybe—she could be something softer. Just for you.

The guillotine was old. Weather-worn wood, chipped and splintered like the bones of an antique. It had taken Wednesday weeks to restore it—polishing each blade support, sharpening the steel until it gleamed like a smile.

He was gagged at first, slumped and bloodied, missing both hands, one leg bound and stitched just enough to keep him breathing. Wednesday had always been meticulous. Every cut had purpose. Every stitch had meaning.

She stood a few feet away, still as stone, black coat moving slightly in the wind. Her hands were bare. No gloves today. Her fingers curled and uncurled slowly at her sides. She held a phone in her left hand.

The right was twitching.

On the ground near her, a phone picture flickered with signal. She’d sent it minutes ago—his face, barely recognizable, eyes wild and swollen, mouth red with spit and screams. And she gave them the address so they would come to save him.

All they had to do was open the door.

“Who the hell are you?!”

It was hoarse. Desperate.

She didn’t move.

“Why are you doing this?! Who the hell are you?! What did I do to you?!”

The words were shredded by pain, but they still stabbed the air. He writhed beneath the frame, muscles shaking, eyes darting in every direction but hers.

Wednesday stared at him, her face unreadable. Not rage. Not triumph. Just a long, heavy stillness like the moment before glass breaks.

He didn’t even remember what he did.

Of course he didn’t. People like him never did because they weren't even people.

Wednesday opened the phone.

The screen lit up in her palm. Her thumb hovered over a file she’d listened to too many times already. It was cracked at the edges now, her phone screen shattered where she’d dropped it once—twice—when the grief had shaken her bones so hard she couldn’t hold anything.

She tapped play.

Your voice came through the speakers, warm and full of life.

“Sorry, we’re closed! Yeah, we stay open from eight a.m. to eight p.m. No exceptions! Thank you!”

She remembered.

She was sitting at home that night. The lights were dim. Your voice had ended in her ear. She had said something back—something simple, probably something dry and sardonic. You would’ve laughed at it. But you didn’t call again.

An hour passed. Then two. Midnight came and went. She told herself you were just working. You’d warned her. You always warned her.

But then one call.

No answer.

Another. Voicemail.

Another.

Then another.

Wednesday never panicked. That was a rule of hers. Panic was for people who had the luxury of helplessness.

But her heart had gone hollow.

She didn’t change. She didn’t grab a weapon. She didn’t even lock her front door. She just walked. All the way to your flower shop.

It was just before dawn when she got there.

The sky was still dark, but the edges were bleeding gold, creeping like guilt. The bell above the frame jingled when she pushed it open. You never locked it properly. You said it made the place feel more welcoming.

Inside, it was too quiet. Far too quiet. Not even the soft humming you sometimes did when arranging bouquets. Not the sound of your little radio. Just... stillness.

The flowers were wrong.

They were wilted. Slumped. Some had fallen from the shelves. The petals were scattered, torn, like they had tried to escape something that came in behind them.

The scent was wrong too. Sweet. And something else. Something sickening. Metallic.

Her boots clicked against the tiles. She didn’t call out. Not yet.

She walked past the counter. Past the shelf where you kept the lavender because you liked its color. Past the wall where your engagement board still had pictures pinned to it—samples, notes, fabric swatches. One of them had fallen to the ground. Her own handwriting stared back at her from it, a single word she’d let you coax out of her weeks ago: Maybe.

There was a bouquet on the counter.

It was half-finished. Carefully chosen. A mixture of deadly plants—your inside joke. Your love language to her. Monkshood. Nightshade. Hemlock. But there were gentle things in it too��carnations, a single lily, even a tucked-in daisy.

You made that for her.

Then she stepped into the greenhouse.

Glass crunched beneath her foot.

And she saw you.

The greenhouse had always been your favorite place. You’d told her you could breathe there. You’d even said once that if you died, you wanted to be surrounded by the things you loved.

You got your wish.

You were laid out like a sleeping bride, lying beneath the skylight. The glass above was shattered. Pale morning light streamed through, illuminating the tiny cuts all over your arms. Your head was tilted slightly to the side, resting against a bed of marigolds.

You were surrounded by flowers.

Your dress had been torn and smoothed again.

Petals were placed in your hair.

Your hands were folded across your stomach, like a child sleeping in a garden bed.

But you weren’t sleeping.

You weren’t breathing.

Your eyes were still open.

Wide. Glassy. Empty.

On the wall above you, scrawled in deep, thick red, were the words:

“Even the most beautiful flowers rot.”

Wednesday did not scream.

She did not collapse.

She did not shake or sob or wail.

She knelt beside you.

Her knees cracked against the glass, but she didn’t care.

She touched your cheek with her bare fingers, brushing a streak of blood that had dried beneath your ear.

You were cold.

She let her thumb rest on your chin. Her hand on your collarbone. She traced the curve of your jaw the way she’d done a hundred times before.

You didn’t move.

Her eyes didn’t well. Her mouth didn’t tremble.

Her breath stayed steady. Controlled. Slow.

But her hands shook.

Her hands shook so violently she had to clench them into fists just to keep touching you.

She pressed her forehead against yours.

She stayed like that for a long, long time.

And when she finally pulled back—

She made a promise.

Slowly.

She didn’t cry at the funeral.

Not when Enid sobbed shaking and muttering things like, “She was so kind,” and “She made everyone feel safe.” Not even when Weems paused mid-speech, voice cracking as she said your name. Wednesday just stood there, hands clasped tightly in front of her, face like marble.

She didn’t cry during the burial.

Not when the coffin—your coffin—was slowly lowered into the earth, and the sound of the dirt hitting the lid echoed through the tight silence like gunshots.

Not when her father quietly stepped behind her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder with a kind of restraint Wednesday didn’t have the energy to analyze. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. No one really knew what to say to her. No one could fathom what your death meant to her. And if they had tried—she might have killed them too.

The only time she moved was when Enid leaned in to sob against her shoulder, and even then, Wednesday didn’t flinch—just allowed it, like a statue accepting offerings. Her eyes were focused on your name etched into the granite headstone. Clean. Polished. Final. It didn’t feel real.

Later that night, she went back.

The flower shop still bore the yellow caution tape across the doorway. It had become a symbol of everything she devoted her life too... a crime scene. She stepped through the yellow tape without hesitation, her boots crunching on the broken remains of your shop's heart. The place didn’t look like yours anymore. Not the way she remembered it. It had always smelled like fresh earth and life and the odd sweetness the flowers.... of you. But now, the air was heavy with dried blood and rotting blooms.

She imagined you standing there, maybe working on a bouquet, maybe laughing about a weird customer, maybe humming that ridiculous song you always sang when you thought no one was listening. She imagined you glancing up at the sound of the door. Smiling, welcoming. Then confusion. Discomfort.

She saw it all in her mind. You stepping forward, asking if he needed help. Him smiling back, reaching out—not to shake your hand or take a bouquet, but to grab the ceramic pot on the edge of the shelf and slam it into the floor. Shards flying. You stumbling back. That confusion turning into fear. A scream building in your throat—but he moved faster.

She could see it in flashes, like a strobe light of horror. His hands, the knife, your blood against the daffodils. She saw him pose you afterward, like a child setting up a tea party. Flowers in your hair. A performance. An insult. She imagined it all, and still… she didn’t cry.

The crime scene investigators had done their job. They’d taken photos, collected samples, made lists, labeled everything. But they hadn’t found him. And they hadn’t let her help.

“You’re too close to the victim,” they’d said.

“She was my fiancée,” she’d answered.

They still said no.

So she didn’t ask again.

She remembered the moment clearly. The moment she decided. The precise second she rewrote her entire to-do list with a single item: destroy him.

It wasn’t rage. Rage would’ve burned her out. It was something quieter, colder. Like slipping into a second skin. She watched herself from a distance, her own grief turning into focus.

She was going to kill him. But not like the others.

This wasn’t going to be efficient, or quiet, or merciful.

No, this time… she was going to take her time.

She closed her eyes.

The memories came uninvited. You laughing, your eyes crinkling in that way that made her stomach ache. You holding up a bouquet and saying, “Guess what this means?” You pulling her down to your level and tucking a flower behind her ear. You whispering against her mouth, “I love you more than all of them combined.”

Wednesday opened her eyes again. And this time, they burned.

But still, she didn’t cry.

Instead, she turned and walked back through the wreckage, her footsteps slow and deliberate. Every petal on the floor, every dried bloom, every bit of dirt clinging to the walls—she took it all in. She carved it into her memory. The scene of the crime, yes. But also the final place you existed. The last time you were alive in color.

By the time she stepped out into the night, she already knew how it would end.

He was going to suffer. And she was going to watch every moment of it.

Not for justice.

Not for closure.

But because she couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry, couldn’t breathe—not until he understood what it meant to destroy something beautiful.

The days blurred together in an endless cycle of silence and torment, and Wednesday never once allowed herself to break it.

Every moment, every minute she spent hunting him, tracking his every step, felt like something she could not pull herself out of.

The man was just a reflection of everything she despised—someone who had seen beauty and crushed it with no second thought. He didn’t just take a life; he took a piece of everything that could’ve been.

So, she hunted him. She tracked him like prey, never letting him slip from her grasp. She would come to him in the night, shadows in the alley, outside his car, standing just far enough to see the panic rise in his chest when he realized she was there. He would tremble, stare into the coldness of her eyes, but he never knew where the danger truly came from.

She tortured him slowly, steadily, as she listened to the one thing she couldn’t escape—the calls she had recorded, the calls that felt like the last connection she had to you.

Your voice, soft and melodic, filled the empty spaces as Wednesday stood in the dark. It was a constant. A reminder of you. A reminder of how she failed you.

And now, she is standing there, a few feet away from man tied to the guillotine, for her final act.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” she would hear you say. “Yeah, we stay open from eight a.m. to eight p.m. No exceptions! Thank you!”

The man’s eyes widened, his face paling as he connected the dots. He laughed. A low, bitter chuckle that sent a cold shiver through the air. “I remember now...” he said between fits of laughter. “So it is because of that florist!” His laugh echoed through the room, a sound full of self-satisfaction and madness. “That’s what this is all about. Her, right?”

The sound of his amusement made Wednesday’s chest tighten, a slow-burning rage igniting in the pit of her stomach.

"It was all so simple. I had my fun killing her just like I killed so many, and you’re just another one of those people who got caught up in it. And now you think you can kill me, but what’s the point? You’ve already lost, haven’t you?”

The man’s laugh only increased in volume, like the sound of a fire crackling as it devoured everything in its path. Wednesday didn’t flinch. Her eyes stayed steady. Calm.

“You can kill me if you want, but you’ll never get the satisfaction. Because I already won, and you lost! . It won’t even matter in the end. It won't even have an effect!"

The laughter grew louder. He seemed to relish in the moment, his mind broken by the realization. And yet, he has no idea... what revenge does to a person...

Without hesitation, Wednesday stuffed the rope into his mouth. She made him bite down on it, securing it between his teeth.

“Do you really think it won’t leave an effect?” she whispered, her voice soft but carrying an edge that was unmistakable. The rope was tied to the front door. If anyone opened it, if anyone walked through that threshold, the rope would snap. And the guillotine would fall. It was simple. But it was enough. It would be enough for him to understand the pain he had put her through.

The sound of footsteps outside.

His face went pale, his eyes widening as the panic began to swallow him whole. He started to struggle, trying to twist against the rope.

He realized the truth then. His family was there. His wife, his children, his father—he could hear them outside, their voices getting louder as they neared. He could feel the panic creeping into his chest, suffocating him as the reality of what was happening hit him.

“No! No!” he screamed, his voice muffled by the rope. “You can’t—don’t—please don’t let them—”

Wednesday didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. His eyes were wide, frantic, as he listened to the footsteps outside, getting closer. He was starting to beg. The fear was raw in his voice, in the way his body trembled. But Wednesday didn’t respond. She stood still, her face unreadable, her heart as cold as the blade hovering above him. The room was silent except for his frantic breathing and the distant voices of his family, unaware of the horror that was about to unfold.

She turned on her heel and left through the back door, the cool night air greeting her like an old friend. The sound of her boots echoed in the stillness as she walked away, each step measured, deliberate. She wasn’t in a hurry. There was no need to rush. The world would keep turning, and she would keep walking.

The sound of the front door opening reached her ears, faint at first. But then, the rope snapped. The guillotine blade fell with a deafening clang.

And then, the scream.

A woman’s scream. High-pitched, raw, full of terror. . It was followed by other screams, other cries of horror.

But Wednesday didn’t turn around. She didn’t look back. She just kept walking.

The sound of their screams faded behind her, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. Not anymore.

She just kept walking. Further. Further still. Away from everything. Away from the memories, the pain, the loss. Away from the life she had once known. The night stretched before her, silent, empty. She still didn’t feel anything.

She just walked. And kept walking.

And she knew where she had to go.

The bell above the door no longer chimed.

It was rusted now, stuck in place as if even it had no strength left to announce visitors to a store that no longer served the living.

Every time she’d walked through this door in the past—always reluctantly, always pretending she didn’t care—it would chime, this tiny, inconsequential sound that somehow made her feel like she was walking into a different world. A ridiculous little fairy tale. One of scent and color and... you.

Now it didn’t.

The warmth was gone. The smell, too—no more freshly cut stems, no more lavender oil misting the corners, no more petals underfoot like fallen laughter.

Just rot.

Dust in sunbeams.

And dried flowers that sagged from their hooks like mourning veils.

She stepped in slowly, boots echoing across the cracked hardwood floor. Her coat was heavier now, not from weight, but from silence. From everything she carried in her lungs, her mouth, her heart. Her ribs felt like cages, like graves.

Inside, everything was as she remembered it—and not. Counters still in place. Shelves still lined with empty pots, ribbons limp and curled from moisture.

But the flowers… the flowers were no longer alive. They drooped where they hung, their colors now brittle whispers of what they used to be. Roses that once blushed scarlet were the color of rusted wine. Daisies had curled in on themselves. The baby’s breath looked like bone dust.

The register sat lifeless. Your little stool was still tucked behind the counter, where you'd prop your foot on the lower rung and scribble ideas on sticky notes—"wedding theme: wildflower forest?" "ask Mrs. Delaney if she likes callas again!" "tell Wednesday she's beautiful (deathwish!)"

She walked slowly. Past the counter where you used to perch on your elbows and pester her with questions you already knew the answers to. Past the vase with the crack she refused to fix because “imperfection is character.”

She moved without purpose until she reached it.

The greenhouse. The floor.

The spot where your blood had dried.

It had been cleaned, of course. The investigators, the forensics team. It wasn’t visible now.

She reached into her coat pocket, past the dagger, past the photo she’d taken of him as he screamed, and found her phone.

She didn’t look at it. She just unlocked it by feel. Muscle memory.

The screen flickered for a moment.

Then: RECORDED AUDIO CALL — March 17, 9:47 PM.

“Wednesday?”

Your tone was warm. Light. Sweet in a way that clutched at her ribs and twisted.

“Oh! Okay, you picked up. I thought you were gonna let it ring again just to scare me.”

You giggled. That sound. That sound.

"Oh me? I finished an insane bridal order, one with the thousands of flowers and zero sense of proportion. I swear, that woman thinks flowers grow from credit cards.”

Another breathless laugh. She hadn’t realized she’d leaned closer to the phone until she could hear the faintest buzz of the old recording.

“Anyway, I made you a little something. A bouquet. But not like a romantic one—I mean, yes, obviously romantic, but like... us-romantic, not generic-romantic. It’s black dahlias, white lilacs, and one single daisy. Guess what the daisy’s for. Go on, guess.”

The recording was quiet for a beat.

You chuckled again. “Wrong. It’s for Enid. She dropped in today and told me she misses you. I told her you miss her too and she made that little squeak she does when she gets excited.”

She remembered that squeak. It had annoyed her.

It broke her now.

“I miss you too, you know,” you continued, softer now. “Like… really miss you. Even tho had lunch together only a few hours ago. I know it’s stupid but you make me feel stupid.”

Wednesday’s hand gripped the phone tighter.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when we move in together?” you asked. “Like... actually live together? I mean, I’m messy. You’re... you. We’ll probably fight over drawer space and you’ll threaten to hex my slippers.”

A pause. A breath. You smiled again. She could hear it.

“But I think we’ll figure it out. I really want that, Wednesday. Us. I want to argue about dinner and hold your hand at 3 a.m. because I had a nightmare that you would call "sweat dream." ”

She was shaking now. She didn’t realize when it started.

“God, I sound clingy,” you said, laughing softly. “I swear I’m not! Okay, maybe a little. Okay maybe a lot! But you love that, right? Say you love that. Say you love me.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched. Her throat ached with something ancient.

The call kept playing.

“Fine! Still worth a try. You know what I realized today?” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “There’s no one I want to call at the end of the day but you. No one I want to share all this with. Even the dumb parts. Especially the dumb parts.”

Her vision was going blurry.

“I love you, Wednesday Addams. I love you so much it’s kind of terrifying.”

She closed her eyes. Her nails dug into her palm. She remembered the way she’d sat there that day, silent, listening to you say those words. And not saying them back.

She hadn’t said them back.

She should've said them back...

“I know you’re not great at feelings,” your voice said gently. “And that’s okay. I’ll carry the feelings for both of us. I’ll carry all of it, if you let me.”

And then—your smile again, alive in your words.

“Okay, that’s enough sappy nonsense. I’m gonna go get some food and then fall asleep surrounded by empty ribbon spools like a tired goblin. Goodnight, my love. Talk to you tomorrow.”

The call ended.

Silence fell again, deafening.

Wednesday stared at the screen. At your name. The last of you, trapped in a speaker, looped in time.

She tried to swallow. Her chest didn’t move.

Her hand fell limply to her lap, phone still in it.

The first sob escaped before she could kill it.

It tore from her throat like it had claws.

She fell on her knees, folding in on herself as if trying to make her body small enough to disappear.

The sound that came from her mouth was not human. It was grief in its rawest form—broken, bloody, bare, clawing its way up from a place deeper than marrow. Her shoulders shook with the weight of it. Her hands trembled as she covered her face. She tried to contain it, tried to trap it behind her teeth like everything else, but it spilled out anyway.

Sobs tore through her.

Violent. Heaving. Shattering.

She cried like she was trying to bring you back. Like if she cried hard enough, the flowers would listen. That the pressed petals on the shelves would breathe again. That your laughter might echo down the hall. That time might open a door and let you walk through it.

She gasped for air between sobs that didn’t stop. Her fists clenched in her lap until her nails carved crescents into her palms. Her face was wet, red, contorted in a way it had never been allowed to be.

And she hated it.

She hated how much it hurt. She hated how empty her vengeance had felt. How no amount of screaming or slicing or orchestrated executions could fill the space you left behind. She had tied your murderer’s fate to his own family. She had set the guillotine. She had delivered death with poetry.

And none of it changed anything.

You were still gone.

She sobbed.

Loud, broken, primal. The kind of sound a person makes when nothing is left. When even memory turns to dust in their throat.

She screamed your name once. It cracked mid-syllable.

Her hands clutched a wilted daisy from the floor. The petals crumbled in her palm.

“You were a flower,” she whispered, her voice foreign and cracked and barely human.

She closed her eyes.

“You were the only thing I ever believed in.”

Her body shook with the weight of it. With the memory of your laugh. Your voice. The way you’d say her name like it meant something good. Like she meant something good.

“So why didn’t they save you?” she whispered. “Why didn’t the flowers save you?”

Silence. Her nails dug into the floor.

No answer came.

Only the sound of her breathing too hard. Of her tears hitting the ground. Of the shop creaking with the wind from outside, where it was still night. Where the world still spun without you in it.

She looked up. At the hanging bundles above her—flowers you once raised, once spoke to, once loved.

They were silent now.

Ashamed.

And then she asked the question.

The question that had no one left to answer.

“Are flowers even real?”

[Author's note: Yeah, this is very much inspired from a movie, guess it in the comments, also let me now how did this angst feel lol.]

Taglist: @rqizzu @sevyscoven @kingoftheracoons @kingofthings2 @masterofpuppets-10 @alexkolax @ognenniyvolk @mally-ka @protozoario @machyishere @freakshow2501 @101rizzlrr @jinxslapdog @just-zy @gray-cheese @hellenheaven @blue-because-no-yellow @thyhooligans

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