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#wednesday addams x reader smut
wesstars · 7 months
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heaven on earth (ii)
wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)
summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!
read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.
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For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”
You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.
“Alright, it’s your turn.”
The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 
Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.
You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.
You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?
You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.
Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.
“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.
“I’m surprised you know.”
“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.
“Did you just laugh?”
Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 
“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.
You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.
After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.
Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 
“Why have you stopped?”
“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”
“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”
“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”
She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.
Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.
You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.
You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.
Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 
“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.
It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.
She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 
The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 
“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.
“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.
You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”
You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”
“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 
Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.
She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 
She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.
You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.
Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.
You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”
She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.
“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 
“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 
“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.
What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.
“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”
You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.
“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.
“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.
“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”
Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.
“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”
“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”
“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”
Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.
“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.
“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 
“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”
“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”
In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”
Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.
“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”
“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.
“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.
“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”
“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.
“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”
The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.
A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”
Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.
“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”
She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.
Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.
“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.
“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”
“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”
Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.
“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.
Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.
“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”
You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.
There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”
When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 
“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”
“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”
Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.
“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.
“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.
You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.
Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.
“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.
“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.
“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”
You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 
“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.
“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”
Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.
She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.
“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”
Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 
“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”
At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.
“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.
“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.
“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 
“Fuck—”
You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”
She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 
“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.
“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.
“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 
Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 
Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.
“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.
Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 
“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.
You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”
--
wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 
reader: huh?
a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?
I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!
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Text
— HEAVEN AND BACK
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader
warnings: smut, lesbian sex, bondage, sensory deprivation, degradation (just a little), strapon referred to as cock, wednesday is a sadist, all characters are aged-up
summary: wednesday addams is cruel in many ways - you know that better than anyone else
word count: 1.2k
a/n: buckle up y'all, the wednesday smut agenda starts today
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"Is this loose enough?" The ravenette asks softly, perfectly manicured digits gently caressing your chin.
You flex your palms where they're tied behind your back as you sit on the bed, making sure the blood flow in your hands isn't restricted, before nodding.
"Good," her eyes darken, and the hold she has on your face turns rough, fingers manhandling your jaw to look up at her, "Because that's all the movement you'll be allowed tonight."
You whine in dismay, pulling at your restraints, and the leather digs into your wrists, leaving you whimpering and tugging at the cuffs in another poor attempt at freedom.
Wednesday draws in closer, moving to sit on your lap, stocking — clad legs swinging over your thighs . You're thankful for the fleeting moment of seeing her like this, and you try to catch as much of her as you can, wanting to engrave the image into your brain— she's fully clothed, a display of composure and dominance, dark hair in the usual tight braids, her starched blouse hanging off her shoulders with buttons undone, and, as your eyes slide down over her milky breasts and lower, you're painfully aware that the ravenette has disposed of her panties, her skirt the only thing keeping you from seeing her perfect pussy.
Her picture is marvelous, but the way Wednesday eyes you up like a hungry beast is so dirty, and she has to bite her lip to restraint herself, but it's half - hearted — the only one needing restraint tonight will be you.
The black blindfold is silky against your skin when the ravenette presses it to your eyes, and you feel all your senses skyrocket when your sight is restricted — the smell of the girl in front of you overtakes, and it's darkly woodsy, so herbaceous and smoky and so Wednesday. She pulls back, admiring her work — you look so perfect like this, all tied up and pretty for her enjoyment, for her to take as much as she needs — and take she will.
The collar around your neck tightens as the ravenette holds the leash in a tight grip, and you hear her hum pleasantly at the way you gasp. Small palms pressing into your shoulders, she hovers over the silicone cock that's tightly strapped to your pubis, and proceeds to slowly lower herself down. Wednesday is never above teasing herself, pressing her pretty cunt against the bulbous head, and it spreads her lips as she lingers on the toy, inches from sinking onto it but not quite there yet. You wish you could catch a glimpse of her heat, wetness dripping down the thick shaft and no doubt mixing with your own.
She enjoys the deprivation as much as you do — well, to a certain degree, as, unlike you, she gets to see your writhing form, the way your bruised lips waver with every shaky inhale you take. Wednesday inches her face closer to yours, gasping into your half - open mouth rasply, and you almost go delusional.
Her lips barely graze yours, and you can sense it, the way she sinks onto the girth agonizingly slow, and you groan as you feel Wednesday sigh into your ear, the gentle feeling making goosebumps rise up your neck. She bares her pearly whites to nibble at your earlobe, silencing herself, and oh, how cruel the girl above you is, robbing you of her prettiest sounds, your only consolation in such a predicament. You wish you could touch her, knead the supple flesh of her thighs with your palms, maybe even inch closer under her skirt to swipe your finger through the warm slick between her legs. God, anything, anything to feel her.
“So pliable… so obedient, offering all of yourself to me, letting me use you however I desire…” Her voice is low and husky in your ear, and wetness pools between your legs at her words.
She sighs again, and this time you feel her breath on your lips, making the urge to kiss her burn deep in your guts — but you don't dare act out of turn, keening subtly with furrowed eyebrows, hoping she can understand your pathetic pleas. Wednesday grants your wish, pulling you closer by the leash to press her plump lips against yours in a hot kiss, hands moving to rest on your shoulders, fingers flittering around and brushing the back of your neck. Tongues roam over teeth, and your breath turns gasping and eager.
When Wednesday's plush walls squeeze around the toy, she pulls away from your mouth, dark lipstick smeared, and moans, breathless, right by your ear, and the soft sound is so gorgeous you think you might cum just from hearing it. She’s devilish – you know she’s doing it on purpose, completely aware of what her timbre does to you. Her thighs rest on yours, pretty cunt swallowing your fake cock to the base, fluttering around the thick shaft, and she can barely keep herself together at the feeling of being so full of you, finally.
You want to grasp her thighs tightly, sink your nails into her skin and push her down onto the length roughly, but she just won't allow it.
Not today.
"I almost forgot what it feels like to be stretched by you," she murmurs, and you shiver at the low tone of her voice, body arching into hers, feeling the ravenette's soft tits press against yours, "So good... My willing little fucktoy.”
"Oh, 'Day," you pant, mouth hanging open and watering at the humiliating insult, "Wanna touch you so fucking bad, please."
Wednesday can’t deny you the pleasure – she tugs on the leash, pressing your face into her neck, and you nuzzle into it, inhaling deeply. You leave an open - mouthed kiss on the creamy flesh there, and Wednesday cranes her neck to expose more skin — you indulge, peppering kisses along her throbbing vein, relishing in her steamy breaths. Lips skim over her collarbones, over the swell of her perky breasts, and you don’t waste any more time to wrap your hot mouth around one of her nipples, tongue out to suckle and stimulate the girl further.
The ravenette leans her free hand against your knee behind her back, the cold touch on your warm skin making you shudder, her other hand still holding the leash as she slowly raises her hips until only the head is inside of her and lowers them back down, filling herself back up, a breathy moan escaping her lips.
Even though Wednesday's pupils are blown wide and her fringe messy, the tingling sparks of pleasure almost enough to make her swoon, she doesn't let go of her control — grabbing the back of your head, the girl above you tugs forcefully, your mouth leaving her breast with a wet pop, lips delightfully swollen and covered in spit.
"Enough of that." She murmurs, and raises her delicate hand to your mouth, pulling your bottom lip down and tapping against your teeth. You comply, allowing her entrance, and Wednesday smiles, watching you lap at her thumb, gently and languid, tongue swirling around the digit.
"Touch has to be earned. You'll have plenty of opportunities to do so yet."
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crazyoffher · 8 months
Text
TAKE YOUR PICK.
wednesday addams x fem!vampire!reader
summary: a werewolf attack leaves you in need of aid, though you find yourself aided in more than just your wounds.
warnings: smut (18+) — slight oral (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as “cock” at one point, slight face-slapping, teasing, dirty talk, virgin!r, withheld orgasm. -> mentions of blood, wounds, werewolf attack, medical equipment, mentions of kidnapping, scarring, and dom!w + sub!r.
word amount: 6900+
a/n: yes you read that right, 6900+ words. i guess i beat you, didn’t i, my ⭐️ anon 😉.
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“Our successor greets us with torture by this grouping.” Her words were dull, and as you turned to face her, you were met with her eyes boring into yours. You cocked your head to the side, easily bypassing a tree that would’ve hit anyone else. Your instincts were stressed by your venture into the woods with the murderous woman you labeled your enemy accompanying you.
Your skin itched. Badly. Though you would rather burn in the flames she created than take action for relief, you never dared to let the shorter girl win at her former pleas to have her partner switch, labeling it as having to not deal with your pollen allergy, but everyone knew of your rivalry.
It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.
“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.
Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  
You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.
You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.
“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.
You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 
Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”
“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.
Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.
You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 
A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.
You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.
“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.
The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.
“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.
She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.
You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”
You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”
“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.
Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.
Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”
Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”
“No.”
“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”
Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.
With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.
“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”
“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 
“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”
“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”
She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.
“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”
“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”
“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”
Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.
A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.
You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.
You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 
You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 
You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-
Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.
“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.
You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.
You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.
Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.
Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.
The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.
What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.
She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.
“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.
In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”
Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.
A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”
“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.
“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.
After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”
“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”
“What?”
Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.
“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”
She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”
At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”
Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”
Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.
It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.
Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”
"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.
“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”
“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”
Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”
“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”
You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 
“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.
Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.
The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.
Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.
When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 
“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.
You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.
“Why?”
“What?”
“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”
It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.
Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.
Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.
Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”
“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.
“Add-”
“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”
“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”
You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”
“Addams-”
“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”
Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.
“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”
Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.
Huh?!
Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.
That’s what she presumed to regret. 
But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.
Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.
“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”
Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.
She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.
“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.
You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.
Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.
Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 
And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?
“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.
“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”
“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”
Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.
While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.
Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”
She was simple. “Relax.” 
On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.
Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.
“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.
You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.
You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.
She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.
“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”
She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.
“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.
Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.
The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”
You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.
Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.
And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.
Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”
Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.
One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 
Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 
“Don’t cum.”
The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”
The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 
The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.
“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”
You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.
Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.
Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.
“La mia dolce metà,” she whispered, hands running down your body and to your hips, “I’m not done with you just yet.” The edges of her lips tugged ever so slightly when she dipped her head down to meet your core, leaving you to moan with delight as your hand found it’s way back to her hair.
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jealousy’s a beautiful thing
masterlist
any ‘wednesday’ fic i do will be set at ‘nevermore university’ so the minimum age of any character will be 18
wednesday addams x reader
18+ : smut; fingering, thigh riding, knife kink, blood kink, choking, dom!wednesday, possessiveness, jealousy
inspired by this post
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Wednesday’s eyes always find you when you’re in the room, whether it seems as though she’s paying attention or not - she is. Though she’s not one to be so outward with her displays of affection, it’s a way for her to know you’re close, that you’re safe and maybe she feels a slight warming in her heart at the way you laugh or how you furrow your brows intently with your nose in a book as she writes. 
But this watchful nature can come with downsides and it’s securely in Wednesday’s grey realm of feelings to be jealous, though she’d not felt it often until you it wasn’t what she would call unpleasant. The annoyance that makes her clench her jaw when someone hugs you the way only she should be allowed to. Or when her sights burn into lingered touches to your arm and it gives her ample motivation in archery practice, imagining the arrow burying itself in the heart of those that angered her. 
So Enid being your closest friend doesn’t always bode well, Wednesday knows just how much that girl loves hugs and though you’re not quite as cuddly you’re not one to shy away from some physical affection from those you’re closest to. 
It doesn’t usually annoy her this much but seeing you being flirted with earlier in the day whilst the two of you shared coffee at The Weathervane - she’d got you hooked on quads over ice - just added to her daily distaste. Then Enid interrupted you. 
Though she might not admit it, Wednesday’s favourite part of the day is the time you spend together. You read and she busies herself at her typewriter, checking in with one another with notes on what you’re doing. The quiet comfort was her favourite, she was often alone in her love of the silence. 
But your hour of quiet was dampened with the sunshine that is Enid Sinclair, a bounce in her step and a grin on her face after what Wednesday could only imagine to be a nauseatingly cheery afternoon with her friends. Instead of lounging on her own bed she stepped over to you, flopping down onto Wednesday’s bed with her head landing on your shoulder. 
You let her stay there, listening to her excited retelling of her day while your girlfriend tried to continue with her writing, sparing glances over at you every few minutes. She loved the way you smiled along with Enid’s ramblings and how you laughed lightly every now and then. But the arm you’d draped behind Enid’s back and the colourfully painted nails that fiddled idly at a thread in your jumper were much less appreciated. 
It made it difficult for her to type, cracking her knuckles in aggravation with the gritting of her teeth at the sight of you casually stroking your fingers through her pastel pink hair. She wanted to be the only one to be that close to you, the only one to be held by you, so close that your perfume is all you can smell. 
She’d had enough of it for today, you were hers and if you’re going to touch anybody it’s going to be her. 
“Don’t you have plans with that dreadful boyfriend of yours?” She spoke, turning in her chair to face where you both lay. 
“Nope. Well maybe later, he’ll probably text me soon - or I could text him or-“
“Yes. Text him.” She nodded, following her with her eyes as she grabbed her phone giddily and grinned at the screen. “I will never warm to the sound of your giggling whilst you text. It makes me want to bury my head in cement.”
You huffed a laugh at her words which she reciprocated with that slight smirk you love so much. 
“Well, luckily for you two I’m leaving. I’ve got a movie date with my dreadful boyfriend.” 
“At least you're self aware.”
“See you later - don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!“ Enid shouted smilingly as she left with waves goodbye from the two of you. 
“If we can only do what she does, what’re we left with? Crochet and pop music?” You muttered much to Wednesday’s amusement. 
“Perhaps we could paint each other’s nails and practice jumping up and down in excitement.” She deadpanned before turning back to her desk with a pensive glint in her eye. 
“There’s something on your mind.” You voiced, so matter of factly she was taken aback at how well you truly know her. 
“I suppose that’s what you’d call it.”
“Tell me.”
“She touches you too much.”
“Oh, I see what this is about.” You smirked. “Wednesday Addams, my ray of sunshine girlfriend, is jealous.”
“I am not jealous. I just don’t appreciate wretched humans admiring what belongs to me right in front of my face. If I didn’t have self control that drip coffee drinking imbecile would have received a fork to the back of his hand.”
“You do enjoy stabbing.”
“I should be the only one you cuddle with like that - I hate that word please never make me say it again. Seeing you so close to anybody other than me makes me want to swim with piranha, you are mine cara mia.” She’d inched closer and closer towards you with her words until she was kneeling beside you on the bed with her dark eyes focused on yours. 
“That’s practically the definition of jealousy, babe.” You laughed while the back of her nail traced over your cheek and her knees planted themselves either side of your body. 
“Jealousy or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you are mine.” She returned with her lips ghosting yours and her palm cupping your cheek. 
Her kiss was firm and possessive, pent up annoyance from the day being let out with a nip of her teeth at your bottom lip. Her tongue licked into your mouth tasting faintly of black liquorice and her hand slid down to the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your throat in a way that only made you pull her closer. You grasped at the back of her zip up hoodie, pulling her hips into yours and her chest flush against you. 
Wednesday let you push the article of clothing away, letting it fall on the ground as your hand brushed over the skin of her bare arm. Her own hands pushed beneath your shirt, climbing upwards across your skin while the attack of her lips on yours never wavered, only stopping to rid you of the clothing. 
They returned to the line of your jaw, her breath warm against you, kissing a path to your neck where she sank her teeth into the flesh beneath your ear. She could feel the throbbing of your quickening pulse as she sucked a mark into your skin, soothing the sting with a soft lick of her tongue. 
“If you like being so touchy, I wonder how long you can go without touching me. Just how desperate are you?” She mused with her breath tickling the shell of your ear.
Her thumb swiped over your swollen lips as she looked down at you hungrily and somehow, in her mysterious fashion, she’d produced a shining silver knife, hand clasping the decorative handle. 
“I do find you rather captivating.” She breathed with the point of the blade tickling your cheek as she dragged it across your cheekbone and downwards to stroke across your jaw. “And silver looks so pretty with your pristine skin.”
You could only gawp up at her breathlessly with your mind hazy with the way she drank in the sight. And just as you went to lift your head to kiss her again she swiftly moved the knife with a disapproving shake of her head, flattening the blade against the thin skin of your throat, so dangerously close when you gulped. 
“Just how much do you want to kiss me, hm?” She asked you with the corner of her mouth twitching upwards, hovering her face mere centimetres above yours, just out of reach. “I can practically feel the thrum of your carotid artery.” She uttered and the way she grinned made it clear she knew it wouldn’t scare you, on the contrary, it filled you with an odd sense of macabre desire. 
You craned your head slightly with a sharp inhale of breath at the realisation of how close to the sharp metal you truly were. But she’s just so irresistible and her eyes just lured you in, plump lips pink from your kiss and her hair slightly messy from moments before. 
“I’d bleed for you if it meant I could have even one more taste.” You murmured, throwing out any care you once had in favour of lifting your head, failing to hold back the small moan at the back of your throat from the pleasurable pain as a drop of crimson red slid down to your collarbone from the cut of the knife. 
“Just when I think I couldn’t care for you more, you say something so morbidly poetic. Mi querida, made just for me.”
Her tongue poked out to slide through the blood and she hummed at the taste, pressing her lips to the wound with a suck that made your chest arch into hers and your hands tangle in her raven locks. 
“Shit, Wednesday.” You sighed at the feeling, shocked at how good it felt. 
When she pulled away her pupils were blown wide with lust and her lips were wet and coated in blood, a beautifully twisted sight that sent a rush through your body.  When she claimed your lips again you tasted the metallic flavour, her hands were strong on your waist and the scraping of her nails made you shiver until she palmed at your breasts through your bra. You’d never seen her quite so ravenous, so hungry for you that she opted for a slice of the knife through the fabric of your bra to pull it from your chest. 
Her fingertips pinched at your nipples roughly, the sensation made your hips lift into hers, grasping at her bare back beneath her shirt, pulling it over her head as soon as you could. You drank in the sight above you, beautifully pale skin clad in black underwear. 
Breathless kisses with smacks of lips was all that could be heard in the dorm room, heavy breaths and sporadic groans as it grew more heated with fumbling hands tugging at the waistband of her trousers. It was a flurry of movements as you both unburdened yourselves of the material, even less of a barrier between you and it felt so good to have skin against skin. 
You pressed kisses over her neck, down to her collarbone with your teeth grazing her skin as she sighed above you, dancing her hand down to nudge at the hem of your underwear before dipping down to stroke through your folds.
“If only I knew before just how riled up I could get you with a knife to your throat.” She whispered at the feeling of your soaked cunt on her fingers. She reveled in the way you moaned into the crook of her neck at the push of her digits into your pussy, curling inside you deliciously with a nudge at your sweet spot that made your hips buck upwards into her hand. 
Her thumb put pressure onto your aching clit, drawing circles over it with the twinge in your belly growing by the second and her svelte fingers wrapped around your neck dominantly. She squeezed away the breath in your throat and your eyes rolled back at the sensations washing over you, she watched your reactions intently, how your neck twitched with an inhale of breath beneath her thumb when she smeared the blood across your skin. 
And how your lips latched around her crimson coated thumb when it prodded at your mouth, licking clean the pad of her thumb with the iron taste on your tongue. Her cheeks held that flush of colour only you got to witness, a faint scattering of pinks from her arousal, from the feelings only you bring out of her. You’d not quite seen her like this though, staring down at you like she was starving - a predator at her prey. Her breath was shaky, a feral look in her eyes that didn’t go unappreciated by you.
It had sparked something in the both of you. Just the sight of you beneath her made her hips roll themselves over you on instinct, underwear covered cunt pushing over your thigh desperately just to try and relieve the ache between her legs. She could feel you clenching around her fingers, basking in the melody of your whines with small grunts of her own tumbling past her lips. 
She replaced the thumb in your mouth with her lips, so hasty and sloppy, neither of you able to catch your breath. 
You could feel how her actions were stuttering with how near she was to her release and you were too. You pushed your hand between you, moving the material of her underwear to the side to push your fingers into her soaked pussy, instantly swiping your thumb over her throbbing clit. It didn’t take much for the both of you to topple over into orgasm with moans into one another’s mouths, tongues swirling together in messy kisses as you rode through. 
The next few moments were quiet, waiting to be able to breathe again in a daze from what just happened. Perhaps bringing out the envy in Wednesday should be a regular occurrence?
“If you’re thinking about making me jealous again, don’t.” She rasped with her face hovering above yours and her body propped up on her forearms. 
“Oh, so you were jealous?” You grinned, brushing strands of hair behind her ear. 
“No, I wasn’t.”
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maxxix66 · 1 year
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Good Reasoning
“Позвони в звонок, Постучи в эту дверь”
Warnings: Smut, sadistic!Wednesday, torture, bondage, anal, punishment, Enid walking in
POV: Second person
Request: myself
‼️NSFW below the cut‼️
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Wednesday slid her cold fingers down your neck, feeling your soft skin. They reached to your nipples, and she lightly teased one. She gently took your ponytail holder off, letting your hair fall. Of course, she didn’t want something happening to her dearest. Unless she was the one to do it. She snapped, pointing to the floor.
“I assume you know what I’d expect of you. Sit.”
You obeyed, sitting on your knees. Wednesday strolled over to her desk, in order to grab a few… tools. You looked at her, and saw her picking up some gloves, ropes, a gag, a blindfold, and lube. Of course, you shivered at the sight of all of these things. Wednesday came back over, and set everything on the bed. You looked at her with a slightly concerned expression. She looked at you, and smiled. She pulled out one rope, and stared you in the eyes.
“Hands behind your back.”
You listened, and put them behind your back. She chuckled, which is a rare occasion, and tied the rope around your wrists. With your hands now bound, you could barely move. Obviously not your arms, but you couldn’t really stand easily either. Wednesday sat on her bed and raised her skirt a bit, and pulled you onto her lap.
“Please yourself, first. I’d like to know how far your ability goes.”
She pointed to her thigh, and opened your legs a bit. She grabbed the blindfold and placed it over your eyes, tying it shortly after. She also grabbed the gag to slide into your mouth. You already knew what to do. You were already vulnerable, as she had taken off your panties and lifted your skirt up, and your sweater was too large; making it drape off of your body. Without any sight or ability to speak, you started to try to get yourself off. Starting off, you were heavily breathing and panting.
“Good,” she pushed her leg up, drawing a shocked whine from you. “I must tell you, you aren’t allowed to release until I say you can, understand?”
You nodded and continued to grind on Wednesday’s thigh, more pathetic moans being muffled by the gag. You ground down harder, your head falling onto Wednesday’s shoulder. She stroked your hair, the locks feeling soft on her fingers. She eventually got tired of hearing you panting, and pushed her leg up even harder than the last time. You made a loud noise. She sighed, and slid you onto the bed. She positioned your body to be head down, ass up, and tied your calves and thighs together.
Wednesday put on some medical gloves, and squirted some lube onto the fingers. She poked at your ass for a bit, before slipping in quickly with her middle and ring fingers. She didn’t care if it hurt; it was what you deserved for cuddling Enid when she wasn’t there. You didn’t think about it at the time; as she was warm and way better with contact. You only chose Enid, as to not make the raven girl uncomfortable. Seems either way, there’s no way to please her. She pulled her fingers out for a bit, before roughly shoving them back in, therefore getting a whimper in return.
She pulled the gag out for an answer, “Harlots don’t deserve time to get accustomed to this kind of occasion, do they?”
You coughed, drool rolling out from the sides of your mouth. “N-no, ma’am. They don’t.”
She chucked sadistically, and allowed her hand to fly across your thigh. You cried out, shaking like a feather in a storm. Wednesday pulled her fingers out, and pulled the glove off.
“Bad girls don’t deserve the pleasure that comes with normal sex. This is why I am not allowing you to orgasm or have a few of your senses.”
You subtly rolled your hips, trying to get some touch, any touch. Of course, you felt colder now.
That cold became ice in your veins when you heart the sickening sound of her typewriter. You whined a bit, a tear sliding down your face - before getting absorbed by the blindfold. Wednesday was engaging in her writing hour. Of all times; she chose it to be done right now.
Eventually - about fifteen minutes later, you suppose - the sound of a door opening was heard. You felt your heart beat out of your chest as you heard Enid’s voice.
“Wednesday, what the hell is this?”
The clicks of the typewriter got quieter, as if her voice muted them. “A punishment.”
Enid shut the door, and came over to you. She raised the blindfold up, and covered your body up. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to untie you yet, sorry.”
Wednesday scoffed. “Of course not,” she murmured as if she was talking to an idiot, “she wasn’t being good.”
Enid sighed, and looked you in the eyes. “Good luck surviving. I’m… going to hang out with Ajax.”
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tearsucry · 11 months
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+ . . . 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒
nothing under 'wednesday addams'
𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒
nothing under 'larissa weems'
𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑
nothing under 'enid sinclair'
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prazinos · 1 year
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Art Come To Life
Summary ~ Xavier Thorpe was an interesting outcast to say the least. He had the power to make his art move, which is why it comes in handy in times like this.
Disclaimer ~ I do not support Percy Hynes White, this is about the character and not the actor.
WARNINGS: Smut | Handjob | Masturbation (M) | Oral (F) | Fingering (F) | Squirting | PiV | Unprotected sex (seriously wrap it before you tap it | probably bad | MINORS DNI |
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You were walking to your best friends dorm, waving to Enid and Wednesday as they walk past, your legs growing tired from how large the school was and it didn’t help you were still in your school uniform and your brand new doc martens hadn’t broken in yet. Your feet were killing you
you finally had reached Xavier’s dorm and knocked on the door only to have no answer. You sigh pulling out the spare key Xavier had given you after Rowan had been expelled (or according to Wednesday, killed).
Opening the door you saw Xavier slumped back in his desk chair. You squinted at him before he let out a moan. The blush quickly rising from your neck to your face as your thighs clench at the noise. Your eyes widen, you can’t really have walked in on your best friend masturbating and then have found it hot, there’s got to be something wrong with you. Xavier lets out another loud moan and you whimper at the sound. Immediately he closes his sketchbook and whips his head around covering himself.
‘What are you doing here Y/N?!’
‘I’m-I’m so sorry Xavier I was, I was just coming to see you because I um got some weed from, from uh from Ajax and I was going to smoke um some with you’
‘God this is so humiliating’
You took this as a chance to tease him, while cruel, it was slightly funny
‘Were you really jacking off to a drawing you did?’
‘What? No I had my um my phone on my sketchbook’
He looks mortified and you only feel slightly bad when you reach to grab the sketchbook. He attempts to grab the book before quickly going to cover himself again.
As you flick through the pages, you can see him squirming in your peripheral.
Your eyes widen when they land on a drawing, a drawing of you and Xavier, but it was you riding him. Your eyes dart back to his face and he looks like he’s going to explode.
You smirk at him before placing the book down.
‘Make it move Xavier’
‘I-What?’
‘Make the drawing move’
He moves his hand over the drawing and it immediately starts to move. Your eyes trail over your naked drawn body, bouncing on top of Xavier. You watch as your drawn self throws her head back. You look over to Xavier and notice he’s palming himself slightly. Smirking, you reach over to his hand and remove it from his hard cock, you glanced at it, taking it in, it was at least 8 inches, it was thick but not to the point it would hurt, the tip was an angry red and you took in the neatly groomed pubes at the base.
You brought your hand to your mouth and spat in it before wrapping your hand around his cock. Immediately Xavier’s head was thrown back and you saw as his hands gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white.
You smiled at his reaction. Your hand started moving up and down his cock at a fast pace, you rub your thumb over the slit of the head and he whimpers loudly, tears sprouting in the corners of his eyes. He looks at you in the eyes
‘Please, please Y/N, let me cum I need it so bad’
You smile at his begging and nod. You lean down and lightly lick at the precum on the tip, his hips bucking harshly as he cums down your hand.
He’s a panting mess when he comes down from his climax. Whispering quiet thank yous. You smile before licking the cum off your hand, you groan at the tangy musky taste that’s just so Xavier.
You turn around, bending over, rummaging through your bag before finding the weed that Ajax had given you. You toss the bag towards Xavier, he always rolls better joints. But instead of opening the bag he slams it down on the desk startling you.
You stand back up and notice Xavier’s dark expression. He stands up taking long strides towards you and you start walking backwards before your back hits the wall. Xavier smirks at your nervous expression. He leans down smashing your lips together.
You kissed him back just as feverishly as he was kissing you. He tasted like nothing you have ever tasted before. Your hands reach into his long hair and pull lightly, making him groan. He bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp. He takes it as an opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips and into your mouth. You’re taken aback by the sudden confidence.
He finally breaks the kiss and you take in his swollen lips and tussled hair. He suddenly picks you up, hands under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He smiles when you gasp as he squeezes your thighs.
He tosses you onto his bed and you kick off your shoes and socks. Tearing off your jumper and attempting to unbutton your blouse before you’re stopped by Xavier. He rips your blouse open and you glare at him as he chuckles darkly. Hearing the buttons hit the wooded floor you groan internally as when you ask Enid to fix your now ruined blouse she will ask how it got damaged.
You could have sworn Xavier’s eyes bulged out of his head for a split second as he takes in your deep red lacy bra. You shrug the blouse off and unclip your bra as he rods himself of his own button down and took off his already opened pants.
You reach down to rid yourself of your skirt and when you do, you attempt to take off your panties as well. But Xavier stops you. Pushing you down onto his bed, you lean on your forearms to see what he was doing and you could feel yourself getting extremely wet as you watch him take your panties off with his teeth.
He spreads your thighs licking his lips and you stop him, clamping your thighs shut and he looks up at you expectedly
‘Xavier wait, you don’t have to do that, I know guys don’t really like doing that’
‘Oh Y/N, I’ve been wanting to taste this sweet pussy for months’
He pushes your thighs apart once more before licking a stripe up your dripping cunt. You groan in unison, Xavier starts to devour you as your hips buck into his face he stops you by placing a hand on your hips pushing you down. You feel as his tongue plunges into your dripping hole before sucking on your clit, he was so talented with his mouth.
You didn’t know where to put your hands and as you looked down you nearly came at the sight of him making eye contact with you as he sucks on your pulsing clit. He notices your hands hesitate before he grabs them to place in his hair. He smiles as you grip his hair tightly, once again bucking your cunt into his mouth. He pushed your hips down and bit your clit lightly, not hard enough to hurt but enough for you to yelp and get the message that he wants you to stop moving.
You didn’t think you could feel anymore pleasure but Xavier surprises you by plunging his fingers into your cunt, curling them, you feel yourself clenching around his fingers, he continues to thrust his long fingers into your g-spot and suck on your clit. You felt like you were going to pee, trying to push Xavier’s face away
‘Xavier please ‘m gonna pee’
He ignores your pleas and doubles down smirking into your pussy
You heard it before you felt it, a loud gushing noise as you felt a liquid shooting from your hole. You moan loudly as Xavier works you through your intense orgasm.
As you come down you begin to feel too sensitive. You pry his face away squirming back before looking down at him once more, noticing his chest and chin are soaked in juices.
‘Xavier I’m so sorry oh my god I didn’t even know I could do that’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for, that was so hot Angel’
He stands up before lying down on the bed. He motions for you to sit on top of him and you obey,
‘Shit, I don’t think I have any condoms’
‘It’s okay, im on birth control but if you feel safer with the condom and don’t want to do this anymore-‘
He cuts you off with a searing kiss
‘Oh baby and miss the chance to feel you cum on my cock? I want you to ride me to oblivion sweetheart’
You blush at his vulgar words before nodding. You align his hard again cock with your entrance and slowly lower yourself, you moan loudly and he whines, you start to bounce on top of him, throwing your head back with another loud moan. You bounce harder. Xavier’s hands coming to your hips to slam you down onto his cock, you let him guide you as you continue bouncing.
Xavier’s hands leave your hips and you whine at the loss of contact before whining as you felt his fingers come down onto your clit, rubbing it furiously as you feel yourself get closer to the edge you looked down at him, he looked incredible. So fucked out, so fucking hot.
‘Shit! Fuck oh Y/N ‘m gonna cum gonna cum’
His moans get louder as he reaches his climax, the hot spurts of cum tipping you over to the edge as well, as you moan loudly, bouncing on his dick a few more times as he whimpers from the overstimulation.
You collapse down onto his chest, feeling hot, sweaty, and need of a shower.
You look up at Xavier to see him staring back at you
‘I don’t know if you can tell but I really love you Y/N’
‘I love you too doofus. Have for months’
‘Well I’ve loved you since you transferred here’
You did the math realising he’s liked you for over a year.
You smile and kiss him before getting off him
‘Y/N how did this happen exactly?’ Enid questioned looking between you and the ripped blouse
‘Um well you see I kinda got attacked by a um a wolf’ you responded scratching the back of your neck
‘More like you got attacked by Xavier’ Wednesday mumbled. You snapped your head around to Wednesday glaring at her
‘Oh my god!’ Enid yells
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A/N ~ I’m not sure if this was good but please let me know if you liked it by commenting, liking, or reposting
Thanks my loves <3
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halfmoonaria · 3 months
Text
stalker
pairing: jenna ortega & reader
summary: jenna can't help but watch you when you can't see.
words: 1.2k
warnings: stalking & sexual content.
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Jenna didn't mean to watch you, honestly.
But your window was right in front of hers, and your curtains were always open; doing the opposite job and didn't cover your room at all.
The first time she noticed you was when she finally had a free day, which was unexpectedly super boring for her. She had nothing to do.
That's when you caught her attention.
You were walking around in your bedroom with barely any clothes on, technically half naked if you will. You were talking to someone on the phone, smirking and twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
You walked all around the room, not noticing the burning stare Jenna held on you for the whole time you were on the call.
At first Jenna had stood behind her curtain, only her eyes peeking out for her to see you. But when she noticed you didn't plan on catching her soon, she got braver; standing so her whole figure was visible. So she could see you better.
She only had one window to see you through, so unfortunately she couldn't see you when you were in the other rooms of your apartment. But that wasn't something she worried about, since you were in the bedroom almost every single time she began watching.
She knew it wasn't right, and she tried telling herself to stop. But ever since she saw you that first time, on the phone, barely any clothes on, she couldn't help herself. She was captivated by you, infatuated.
So she began to watch you almost every night. No matter what you were doing. She couldn't get herself to stop.
She had been lucky enough to watch you change almost every night. When you changed in the morning, when you changed at night or when you stripped to use the shower.
The thing that was taking her through the rough days of stunts and acting, was the fact that she would be able to watch you when she got home.
Eventually she had watched you so many times that she had learned your shower schedule and what time you used to go to bed at night.
There were a few nights where she would notice you going out in fancy clothes, she assumed that you were either going out on dates, or that you were going out to party and drink at some club.
She hadn't had the guts to follow you anywhere yet. She knew that paparazzi of some kind would find her, exposing herself if you noticed the flashing cameras.
But when you would arrive home again, late at night after those 'events', Jenna would watch you again. She had been so lucky that she would see you bring home all kinds of women and men as one night stands.
She would watch everything. From beginning to end. From the moment your clothes started dropping to when you were panting on the bed.
She enjoyed watching you with women the most, because she could think that it was her, that she was the one that was above you, pleasuring, preaching and worshipping you, that she was the one that undressed you, or that she was the one to kiss every inch of your body.
She would be different than all the other people you brought home with you.
Jenna had never heard your voice, your laugh, your personality or your moans. But she still felt like she knew everything about you. She knew your bedtime and morning routine, your favorite movie that she had seen you watch on repeat, and what lingerie you wore most of the times when you got laid.
Embarrassing as it was, Jenna had actually gotten off to watching you more than once. There were some days you didn't have to do much at all, and some days she did it when she caught you having sex with some random woman.
She couldn't help it. One second she was just sparing glances into your window, and the next her hand had slipped into her underwear without her noticing.
It's not like you were going to notice right? You were clearly busy with other things.
She had seen you masturbate twice. And it had been heaven. She could see everything so clearly, every moan, what you said and the movements you made.
Jenna had imagined that she was the one you were thinking about. She thought about it so much that it began to feel real.
She felt so dirty. She knew it was wrong. But she just couldn't get herself to stop. She had tried to distract herself so she wouldn't watch you, but it never worked, she always ended up looking anyway.
She had tried to go to sleep earlier; so that she wouldn't catch you and your one night stand pleasuring each other. But the thought of you doing something without her watching made it hard for her to sleep, so she always ended up standing at her window nonetheless.
Since you guys didn't live in the same building, she hadn't seen you 'in person' yet, which she was very happy about. Not that she didn't want to meet you, just that she wouldn't have a single clue what she was going to say or do, what she would act like.
How could she ever meet you knowing she had been watching you for months? She obviously wouldn't tell you, so that wasn't the problem. But knowing that she had been doing that without you knowing almost made her feel the need to throw up.
She knew it was wrong. Every single day she told herself the wrongs of it. But it was like an obsession, like a moth into flame, she knew how bad it was, but she couldn't stop. She just couldn't.
When she watched you she didn't feel like herself. She didn't care about the industry, the stunts and the long hours of working, she didn't care for any of it. All she could feel herself caring about was you, and the things that she could see you doing.
No matter how wrong she felt and knew it was, it felt too good to stop.
It pained for her to know that she would never be able to have you, let alone meet you.
She didn't know you. But watching you she could assume and tell that you had a rather simple life.
You didn't get work calls all the time that you had to be on for hours, you didn't have to record interviews with uninteresting questions and people, you didn't have to wake up at six am to go to set and film stunts that would leave you exhausted.
Your life seemed fun and exciting. You went out to clubs and out on dates, something Jenna couldn't even remember she had done in the last five years.
Your life was so much different than Jenna's, and that's why she knew that your paths would never cross, not even if she tried.
She wanted to stop so badly, the guilt was eating her alive. The fact that she watched you every single day, knowing how you were as a person, while you probably had no idea who she was or that she even lived near you.
She knew almost everything about you, and you knew nothing about her.
827 notes · View notes
poisonlove · 5 months
Text
Completely Mine | w.a
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This fanfiction contains explicit +18 scenes, including mentions of slapping, hands on the neck, and cunnilingus. Reader discretion is advised.
I placed my hands on my girlfriend's cheeks, merging our lips in a sweet kiss. Wednesday's cold hands gently grasp mine, intertwining our fingers during the kiss. I broke the contact between our mouths and stared into Wednesday's pupils, which were growing larger, looking at me with determination.
She was very excited.
I moaned as I felt Wednesday's hand slip under my shirt, caressing my abdomen " make me yours " she whispered, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
I felt an electric pleasure surge from my spine to the clitoris.
I bit my lower lip playfully and placed my hand on Addams' thigh, drawing absent-minded lines along her stockings —take off your shirt and get on all fours—I said, looking at her seriously.
Wednesday stares at me without blinking and obeys without saying a word.
My eyes scan Wednesday's body meticulously, watching as she tenses the muscles in her arms to maintain that position and arches her back to satisfy my request. I smirk, thinking that my girlfriend wouldn't even listen if I begged her for notes or to go to a certain place... but when we're alone in this room, she lets herself be dominated without saying a word.
I approach slowly, crawling on the mattress of my bed, letting out a sigh when I feel my pelvis is pressed against Wednesday's buttocks.
Wednesday moans shyly.
I licked my lips and dangerously approached her neck. I smiled shyly, watching as my girlfriend trembled, feeling my teeth graze her skin.
"I'll fuck you so hard you won't walk for days," I murmured in a low, husky voice near her ear.
I straightened my back, bringing one of my hands to her braids. My fingers exerted force, and with a firm wrist movement, I lifted Wednesday's head up, exposing her throat.
"How many times have I told you to respond when I speak?" I said in a serious tone, my eyes hooded with lust. "But... but you," Wednesday began, stuttering due to the sudden pleasure. "Ahhh," the little Addams involuntarily let out when she felt my free hand sharply hit her buttocks.
My hand remained in place.
"So?" I asked again, rubbing my fingers in the struck area. "You do what you want with me," exclaimed Addams breathlessly, her voice slightly shaky.
Wednesday's back arched more when she felt my hand hit her buttocks again. "This is my girl," I murmured seductively, biting my lower lip feeling my girlfriend's moisture grow with each stroke.
"Turn around," I said coldly.
Wednesday quickly turned around, lying on the bed, looking at me with unreadable eyes. Her braids were slowly coming undone, and her bangs were slightly damp with sweat on her forehead. I bit my lower lip, seeing the porcelain skin of my girlfriend standing out against her black bra.
My hands approached her face, smiling as my girlfriend leaned against the palm of my hand, closing her eyes. My thumb caressed her smooth and perfect skin, moving down her plump, thick lips. A growl escaped from the depths of my throat as I watched my girlfriend's lips wrap around my thumb, sucking on it while still looking at me innocently.
My other hand went to her neck, closing my fingers tightly around it. Wednesday's eyes looked at me with a flame in her irises. Wednesday defiantly placed her hands over mine, increasing the grip.
Wednesday removes her mouth from my thumb and lets out a moan.
"Completely mine," I murmur with satisfaction. I release my grip on her neck and start moving my hands down her body.
I unhooked her bra and immediately placed my lips around her nipple, feeling it harden upon contact with my lips. With determination, I licked over it, sucking passionately. Meanwhile, I placed my hand on the other, covering her breast with my whole hand.
Wednesday put her hands on my head, sighing heavily.
I began to descend down her stomach, leaving kisses and love bites along the way. I stopped and lifted my head, seeing Wednesday looking at me passionately with her elbows resting on the mattress. I removed her skirt, leaving her in lingerie, continued kissing, and stopped when I reached her mound.
I could see and smell her excitement.
I smiled and gave a kiss on the fabric of her underwear. She let out a growl, annoyed.
Wednesday continues lifting her hips to encourage me to continue my work. "Please," she murmurs between her teeth, and I decided to please her.
At least at first.
I took off her panties, and completely aroused, I admired her wetness.
I licked my lips hungrily, staring at her glistening pussy. Slowly, I leaned towards her, placing my hands on her thighs covered by her stockings.
My lips slowly kissed her right thigh, leaving a small bite.
Instinctively, my girlfriend opened her legs wider.
My breath crashed against her intimacy, and she shivered instantly. I smelled her delightful arousal again, an acrid but not unpleasant scent. It was fascinating to see how excited she was for me, you could see... her small and large lips covered and shiny with her fluids.
She sighed exasperated, and I smiled. I bit my lips satisfied with what I saw.
I gave a kiss on her lower lips and began to kiss them. Wednesday moaned, placing her hands on my shoulders.
"Please, Amore" she murmurs again.
I raised my gaze and saw Wednesday recline again on her elbows, looking at me with a plea, her eyes hooded with excitement. Her braids on the sides of her shoulders moved with her rapid breathing.
Her lips were slightly parted.
Without breaking eye contact, I applied more pressure to her intimacy and wrapped my lips around her clit.
She moaned louder.
In a swift motion, Wednesday lay back down. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly.
It was damn exciting.
"Yes..." she whispered slowly.
I began to suck on her button, and Wednesday's sighs gradually increased. I closed my eyes and continued moving my tongue around her clit, swallowing and savoring her delicious taste. I inserted a finger to gather more fluids.
I wanted more.
"Yes... keep going," she said, biting her lips hard.
I clung to her thighs and slid my tongue into her intimacy. "Fuck," she moaned, biting her lower lip, closing her eyes.
I smiled and gently kissed her inner lips, releasing a stream of saliva connecting it to my mouth. With one hand, I made circular motions around her clit, causing Addams' sighs to become heavier. My hand was completely covered in her liquids; I leaned in and gave another kiss to the bundle of nerves.
I licked the excitement off my lips. I put my lips around her clit again and inserted two fingers into her.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Wednesday's knuckles turn completely white, squeezing the sheets with need. Moans echoed in the room.
The walls of the little Addams tightened around my fingers, and I realized she was about to climax. She put her hands on my head, applying more pressure to her intimacy.
I kept licking and penetrating with intensity.
Her back arched more.
"Yes..." she moaned, and curling my fingers, I found her G-spot. She moaned louder. "Fuck," she exclaimed.
Her hips moved to the rhythm of my motions, and I increased the pace of the lick. After stopping penetration, I put the fingers in my mouth, sucking her nectar.
"Look at me," I exclaimed, stopping licking her delicious intimacy. With difficulty, Wednesday supported her weight on her arms and looked at me with excitement.
She was covered in sweat, and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. I took her legs and invited her to rest them on my shoulders, giving me more access to her intimacy. Without breaking eye contact, I passionately licked her intimacy again, watching Wednesday shift her weight onto one arm.
She stretched out the other and placed her hand in my hair. Move your hips again.
Groaning.
"Fuck! Yes..." she whispered.
Her eyes turned white with excitement. She redirected her attention to me, mouth wide open.
"Y/N!" she exclaimed with difficulty.
"I'm... going to..." she murmured with difficulty, not even finishing the sentence before I felt her excitement pouring into my mouth.
I swallowed the excess.
Wednesday, breathing irregularly, leaned back on the mattress. My hands remained on Addams' thighs, and determinedly, I continued licking her delicious pussy. I could hear the dark-haired girl on top of my body complaining between moans.
"Y/N... stop... please," she whispered amid moans, complaining about the overwhelming pleasure. Instinctively, she squeezed her legs around my head, almost trying to block my movements in her delicate area.
Wednesday sighed in relief, placing a hand on my hair.
A growl came from the depths of my throat, and with a determined gesture, I opened Wednesday's legs again. My fingers took her liquid, and I put it in my mouth, cleaning it well before grabbing Addams' cold and delicate hand and placing it on her stomach. I looked at her maliciously and then put my mouth around the swollen clit again.
Wednesday nervously laughed, moaning.
"Amore.." she sighs completely surrendered.
"Come for me again," I confessed, increasing the pace of the lick; she was on the verge of tears from the excessive pleasure.
"Oh my God..." she exclaims, biting her lower lip hard, squeezing my hand tightly. "Mmmmmh..." I swallowed loudly.
"Get up," I said seriously, pulling away from her clit, licking my lips. "What?" She said in a surprised tone, taken aback by my sudden command.
"Get up." I looked at her with mischievous eyes and got on my knees.
The raven-haired girl immediately got up from the bed, her legs slightly trembling as she covered her breasts with her arms. I sighed when I saw that the orgasm that had occurred was sliding down her legs. I slowly crawled towards her, and with hooded eyes, Wednesday watched excited and curious about my movements.
I rested my head against the pillow and got the perfect view of her delicious pussy.
"Ride my face," I said with a smile on my lips.
Wednesday didn't need to be told twice, also thanks to the fact that her legs didn't allow her to stand for too long. Her hands grabbed the bedpost, and I finally got what I asked for. Wednesday, amidst moans, began to move her hips slowly, as she had no strength and couldn't bear the painful and overwhelming pleasure. I slid my tongue into her pussy, her warm walls embracing my tongue. I closed my lips, sucking on her bundle of nerves.
"My... God... yes. It... feels... like... ah..." The raven-haired girl was ready to ride my face and couldn't manage a complete sentence. I sucked on her clit again, my hands holding her legs.
My girlfriend abruptly lifted herself from my face, and I glared at her when she sat on my stomach, the heat of her excitement on my skin. The raven-haired girl leaned down to kiss me and moved a hand from the bedpost along my side, smiling against my lips and sighing to feel her own taste on her lips. Addams' hand rested against mine, and suddenly Wednesday lifted her hips slightly, directing my hand between her legs.
I smiled at the understanding.
Between one kiss and another, she aligned my fingers at the entrance and sat on my hand. I groaned at how pleasant the warmth around me was. The raven-haired girl repositioned her hand next to the other on the bedpost and began to move up and down on my fingers, moving slowly. With my thumb, I stimulated her clit, and I leaned in to kiss her right breast.
Her movements became faster.
With completely hooded eyes, I watched how Wednesday's breasts moved to the rhythm of her hips, looking at me with her mouth open while keeping her hair away from her face.
She sighed and murmured my name with each ride.
I could feel the walls of her vagina closing around my fingers, and her movements were becoming frantic.
Wednesday was very close to climaxing.
She bit her lower lip, containing a mischievous smile, and abruptly lifted herself from my hand, sitting again on my mouth, smiling faintly at the confidence she was having with herself.
"Swallow..." She sighed, murmuring, and a great excitement spread throughout my body from the words she spoke; my clit pulsed to receive attention.
"You little slut," I whispered, smiling.
I grabbed her thighs and quickly moved my mouth, savoring her delicious taste. Wednesday again removes her hand from the bedpost and puts it on my head, assisting with the frantic movements of her hips to ride me.
"And... Y/N," her moans were uncontrollable. "I'm... fuck!..." she can't even finish the sentence that, with her mouth open, I received her delicious fluids. I continued licking while trying to breathe more regularly.
When she no longer feels my tongue working around her clit, she lifts herself from my face, sitting again on my stomach, kissing me tenderly. With my tongue, I asked to enter, and she willingly allowed me, making her taste herself. She put her hands on my back, increasing the pace of the kiss.
Between passionate kisses, the movements of her hips, pressing against my intimacy, made me ecstatic.
"How about another round?" she suggests seductively in my ear. In response, I kissed her.
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eunoiathewriter · 1 year
Text
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X. THORPE X F!READER
Sypnosis: She smiled, and it became his favourite thing.
Word count: 5.3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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It was becoming harder and harder to actually focus on what he was saying. Every few seconds, he would have to run his hand through his hair to push it away from his face as it fell in his eyes. Did he not have a hair tie? He usually did, so why, of all days, did he not have one now when his hair seemed to be the biggest bother of them all? Not even the way he spoke of Tyler could make her think he was more of a bother than his own hair.
To anyone around, it would not seem as though she listened to what she was told, as she just focused on a spot in front of her and let him talk. But she was, truly. Listening was one of the things she was best at, and she really wanted to hear Xaviers' reasons for why he disliked Tyler so much. Seeing as she had yet to meet him, she wanted to understand why he found the guy annoying and often rolled his eyes whenever she mentioned her sister just saying something about him.
If y/n ever told Xavier that Wednesday had been to talk to Tyler, he would scoff, then just tell her he was an asshole, idiot, bitch—or just whatever bad word he could come up with to call him. She would never admit it out loud, but she had labeled Tyler as an asshole ever since Xavier called him one.
After spending so much time together, the two quickly became close. Xavier had been intrigued by her since she came to Nevermore with Wednesday. He was intrigued by the fact that she did not appear to show much emotion on the surface, but as he got to know her, he discovered that she cared for people more than most people realized.
On the other hand, y/n had been pretty reserved in the beginning. She always eyed the tall boy strangely whenever he talked to her, and there was a certain kind of caution in her about actually getting to know someone. He had yet to learn why she had been so wary at first.
Now, Xavier had not noticed how quiet she had been for the past few minutes. He was too busy shittalking Tyler to notice. The fact that y/n wanted to listen and had said, "Please enlighten me. I'm genuinely curious as to why." So seeing as she had finally asked him to tell why, he had started off just telling how Tyler and his friends had destroyed his mural and jumped him. That slowly turned into a rant about everything he found annoying with him that had now gone on for the past five minutes.
Xavier had not gotten any kind of implication that she listened anymore. The silence that had become all too noticeable from her, as well as the looks they had received from fellow students, were not unnoticed. Just to kind of get an idea if she seemed to listen, he leaned forward to see her face. She was indeed just staring into space.
He let out a sigh that made her blink, turning to see that he had stopped talking and running his hand through his hair for the hundredth time. "And you're not paying attention, are you?"
Turning, he saw that she was now looking at him, blinking, and in her eyes he could see the confusion that did not fall upon her face.
"Who said that I'm not? Because I most certainly have been paying attention." It wasn't that she hadn't listened; she just thought it better to stay quiet and let people talk without disturbing them.
"What have I even been talking about then?" His tone was challenging; he was leaning forward and maintaining eye contact with her the whole time, a smug smile on his face.
"You started by explaining why you dislike Tyler, but then you just started mentioning everything that irritates you about him, which was about twelve different things, and all while doing so, your hair has been bothering you."
"So you did listen," It was not actually a question to be answered, yet he got one either way.
"Yes, I did." She paused for just about a second. "I have to admit that you constantly having to fix your hair was quite irritating."
"I don't have a hair tie." Even if he knew he didn't have one, he looked down at both his wrists just to make sure and felt through his pockets, seeing if one had magically appeared (though that wouldn't be a surprise, this was Nevermore after all.)
"Here." Turning his head back at the sound of her voice, he was met by y/n holding up a black hair tie in front of him to take. This caused him to take a second look at her; she looked at the hair tie and then up at him, silently telling him to take it.
"Thanks," Was he feeling cocky about seeing just the slightest of hesitation in her eyes while she looked at him? Yes, he surely did.
Their fingers were brushing as he took the hair tie from her, but as soon as Xavier had a grip on the hair tie, she quickly retracted her hand. With a smirk, Xavier gathered up the top part of his hair into a half-up, half-down style just to get the most annoying part of his hair away from his face.
"If your hair is being such a bother, maybe you should consider cutting it." It came out so suddenly that his hands just dropped from tightening the hair tie, and he turned to her with a questioning look. He thought she liked his hair as it was; at least Ajax said that's what Enid had told him.
"I sure hope there's an and—or a but to that." Xavier was able to detect just the tiniest bit of hesitation in her, as she seemed to have an and or but to that suggestion.
Swallowing hard, she could feel herself struggling to come up with the words to say it. This was what Enid had said: compliments can be a good start, but y/n was not one who ever really gave compliments. Plus, if she had gotten to know one thing about Xavier, it was that anything that would, in his ears, be considered a compliment was going to boost his ego. as if he didn't already have a bit of an ego.
"But," Turning just slightly to face him, there was already an amused smirk growing on his face. Her cheeks were growing increasingly hotter. "I don't think you should, because I like it as is."
"What would you do if I did cut it, though?" Yes, this was feeding into his ego a bit more, but to be honest, his insides were feeling as if butterflies flapped their wings a bit harder than they usually did. y/n looked around at the people in the courtyard while thinking about the question, also looking for the three others that were to join them.
"You would be six feet under."
"Oh, that's how much you actually like my hair." It was really amusing for Xavier to torture her like this, as somehow he could make out that she was getting a bit flustered by all this. He stood at his full height and poked her sides, making her jump and squirm.
"Stop that," y/n told him while swatting at his hands and being able to smack them a few times when he went to poke her sides even more.
As she struggled to smack his hands away from poking her even more, there was something that made him stop. Her lips had unconsciously pulled into a small smile that made him stop completely. Xavier had actually never really seen her smile; most of the time if she felt a smile pull on her lips, she would cover it up in some way, but this smile was one she had not noticed herself.
Just as he was about to say something about it, she was pulled away from him. Enid had been quick when walking up to the two and hooked her arm with y/n's, pulling her away from standing so close to Xavier. Both of them were taken by surprise.
"y/n!" Enid cheered loudly while holding on to the girl's arm and hugging her, earning a side eye from y/n, who then glanced at Xavier.
"My friend." Enid said, just as Wednesday and Ajax had caught up to them, shooting a glare at Xavier, who simply raised his hands at the werewolf-girl.
"Rude." Before the other two reached them, Xavier just took a last glance at her, trying to see if her smile was still there, but it wasn't. He liked it; the way she smiled made his insides flutter even more.
He wanted—no, scratch that. He needed to see that smile again.
——
Spending time in Jericho was better than being at Nevermore and having classes. No long boring classes about plants, no math, no assignments to do—just a day where all students could take a break from school. And sure, some of the work they could do in Jericho was maybe not the most entertaining, but all of the students from Nevermore saw any work as better than just sitting in school. Most normal people would consider school at Nevermore to be fun and unique, but it was simply a school designed for odd people, such as the Nevermore students, to feel less odd.
It had been Enid, who did not want to stand y/n just sitting around as they worked, telling her she would stab her eyes out with fire irons while being bored, who had given her the idea. So Enid told the Addams girl about a certain tall, blonde-brunette boy who was probably bored out of his mind at the Weathervane Cafe (it was a desperate attempt to get them together); she knew he would be; Xavier told her that Tyler worked there, so it would not really be his favourite thing ever. So that was where she was heading.
It was slightly cold outside, being autumn and all. The winds that blew the leaves around made it colder as she walked down the pavement of Jericho, seeing the cafe sign only about a hundred feet in front of her. When she finally arrived at the door, she did not hesitate to push it open, allowing herself to be engulfed by the warmth from within.
It was calm; not too many people were there; only about ten other people were there. There were a few duos that conversed with one another while simultaneously sipping on their coffee, tea, or whatever they were drinking. Four of the other ten people sat alone, one of them an elderly man who sat in one of the corners with a cup of black coffee and a brownie while reading the newspaper.
She took off her jacket, as it was warm enough inside without it. The cafe was placed just perfectly in town, as one could look out the windows and see the town just outside. The smell of coffee was the most noticeable of all, something y/n did not care for because she found the bitterness unpleasant.
Walking around the counter so she could look at all the drinks and things they sold, she found that there was no one at all behind the counter.
The calm was soon broken, however, when someone working there walked in, though it was not Xavier but a boy with shorter, curly hair. Something to know about y/n was that when she was out and about, she would not have her eyes completely relaxed so as to not seem so closed off, even though her voice wouldn't be the most expressive one, just to make people not feel as though they passed her off.
"Hello, is there anything I could get you?" The boy behind the counter gave her a slight smile, prompting her to mentally repeat what Enid had suggested she try.
"Hot chocolate, with some whipped cream and marshmallows." The boy behind the counter nodded and took out a mug to start making her drink, but she just turned around with a question on her mind, and y/n noticed he wanted to ask something. "Yes?"
"It's just that you remind me of someone I know," Her eyes narrowed in response to his statement. "Ehm, what's your name?"
"y/n Addams." He had just gone back to start making her drink and once again turned back to where she stood on the other side of the counter.
"You're Wednesday's sister, she's told me about you." Not true; she hadn't told him about him, just mentioned her sister. She knew that much about her sister. But, even if she didn't seem to care all that much, family was the one thing she cared about and only ever seemed to care about her. But Wednesday would never tell anybody just all about y/n, she knew that.
y/n realised who she was speaking with. The boy with whom Wednesday only briefly conversed and interacted. But he was the one who jumped Xavier with his friends. Okay, so you know what I said earlier about y/n already labelling Tyler as an asshole because of Xavier? Yeah, that still remains. She let her eyes that she had keept a bit less relaxed, finally, relax which made her whole expression change. Only Tyler appeared to be unconcerned.
"That means you are Tyler." Her eyes flickered over to a figure coming into her view, someone that Tyler could not see.
As soon as y/n mentioned her name, the blond-brunette in the back perked up from his sulking over having to work with Tyler. With furrowed brows, he had walked in behind the counter and now stood about twelve feet behind Tyler, leaning against the wall. Xavier knew that she had seen him enter, and just for the heck of it, he crossed his arms and waited to see how long it would take for Tyler to notice he was there.
"Yeah, yeah. Your sister has mentioned me?" It was a miracle he didn't notice her averting her gaze to Xavier with a questioning look in her eyes before returning her gaze to Tyler.
"Yes, my sister..."
Just as he was about to say something more, Tyler finally caught on that y/n were looking at someone behind him. Turning around, he saw Xavier leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with an annoyed look on his face. He raised a brow at the curly haired boy before looking at y/n who was looking between the two boys.
"You two know each other?" Tyler finally spoke as he turned to y/n; the question was directed at her, but it seemed that Xavier was about to answer, though y/n did not let him even utter a word before answering.
"Yes, he is my friend," y/n said after a brief pause. "And told me all about you."
Right then and there, Tyler realised why she had gone from looking a little tired to having a completely annoyed face when looking at him. Her tone signalled to him that she was hinting at just what he thought it to be. For him, it was awkward.
Finally having enough, Xavier pushed off the wall and walked towards where Tyler was behind the counter, clearly using his height as intimidation. "I'll just take this."
"Oh yeah.." With a glance at each of them, Tyler swiftly walked to start cleaning up some tables from previous customers that had left.
"Well," Xavier said, leaning forward on the counter, which she stood on the other side of. "Have you made your own assessment of him?"
"Asshole." That was all y/n said, and it made the boy in front of her chuckle, which in turn had an effect on y/n as her lips tugged into a smile at the sound of his laughter.
"You are right about that." Looking back up at her with a smile, his eyes flickered to her lips at the sight of her smile once more.
It was as if, for the past week, he had been playing "find the smile" on her. Trying to catch every smile she'd ever give, he'd seen about eight so far, nine including this one. She was good at hiding most of them. It was something about the way he smiled that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it felt important. The fact that y/n seemed not to know that she did smile and that every time she did, he got to enjoy it.
"What are you doing here, either way?" Shaking his head, he asked just to come back to reality.
"To cut a long story short, there was an issue with the number of volunteers, so I couldn't work with Enid and my sister at Pilgrim World. Enid said I should go and spend time with someone who I actually enjoy spending my time with, so here I am."
"Oh, so you do enjoy spending time with me. Good to know I wasn't imagining it then." Her smile was still present on her face, which made this the longest she had ever held a smile.
"If I didn't, then me and Wednesday would have spent our first night here enjoying gravedigging. Though that would be fun to do again." y/n trailed in thought as she remembered just how long it was since she and her sister had been gravedigging. They really needed to do that again.
"You know at this point that whenever you say something like that, it's just an empty threat," Xavier pointed out while standing up, pushing off the counter. "You like me too much to do something like that to me. Admit it."
"Will you just make me that hot chocolate of mine that I never got?" y/n sighed, trying to dodge what he had just said. But he would not let it go.
"Not unless you admit that you like me too much to ever carry out your threats against me."
Her jaw tightened in annoyance as she watched him stand back and cross his arms again, waiting for her to admit it.He was gloating at her frustration at having to say it just so she could get that drink. His gloating was also not he was god at hiding, clear as day showing he found satisfaction in making her admit to things she would never say out loud. He had gotten to know her too well.
"Fine.. I like you too much to ever carry out any of my threats. Now can please have my hot chocolate or I'll leave you here alone with Tyler for the rest of the day, Xavier." He did not care for the glare she was shooting him as he got what he wanted, letting out a chuckle once more.
"One hot chocolate is coming right up."
——
Music played softly in the background. y/n had just switched from one song on Xaviers' playlist to another as she felt the previous one was not one she could read to. Xavier didn't mind; he let her know the password to his phone for a reason—he wanted her to also enjoy the music being played and not just him. She just put his phone on the bench in his shed and turned back to her book.
This had all been Xaviers' idea. He had slowly wanted to spend more and more time with y/n, starting to steal her away from Enid and Wednesday, much to Enid's distaste. The werewolf girl had made it very clear to him that "I'm watching you, Thorpe." Not that he felt too threatened by the blond, as it was more Wednesday that he was a bit more worried about. Seeing as she was already keeping a close eye on them, she often narrowed her eyes at Xavier when he came and asked if y/n wanted to come with him.
Anyway, it had all been his idea. y/n knew about his shed, where he spent most nights painting, she had been there quite a few times with him, and he enjoyed the company. He would be painting, sketching, or just doing whatever as y/n would sit with a book in hand, engulfed in the story as they always had music on in the background too.
Today was like any other time when Xavier asked if she wanted to come to the shed with him. He had just simply asked after dinner if she wanted to, and as always, he got a yes. They had simply just done a turn for the girls' dorm, where y/n had gone inside her, Enid, and Wednesday's shared dorm and taken the book she had just started reading.
It was always amusing to Xavier because whenever they went to Y/N's dorm so she could get a book and he was waiting outside, he would hear Y/N threaten Enid. Then Enid would say something as y/n opened the door once more before being cut off again by the door closing. It was always amusing to him.
Today, though, Xavier did have a motive for bringing her out to his shed.
Again he turned his head just to get a glimpse at y/n as she read her book, then took a look back at his canvas, so far he had gotten the general shape. Inspiration had been low when they first got there about an hour earlier (they got there much later than they usually did as it was slowly pulling towards curfew), but her just sitting there, reading on, gave him something to paint. He would of course tell her when he had started to actually get to the details so as not to spook her, but first he just wanted to get in a rough sketch of her.
y/n had just gotten to page 393. Oliver and James, the characters in her book, were backstage between two acts. Oliver demanded knowing the truth, and it was keeping y/n on edge as James was quiet and did not answer. That confirmed it all; it was him, and it made y/n gasp, causing Xavier to turn his head.
He raised his brows at her, an affectionate smile on his lips as he watched her. "What?"
"James just confessed to Richard's murder, though Richard deserved it."
"Okay, I'm going to pretend I know what's going on in your book." He turned back to the canvas to do his own. But he still found the way she had gasped at the book cute.
"The character accidentally killed the asshole character, and the police have just found out and are there to arrest him." It was a simple explanation, but it gave him the least bit of understanding for what was happening in her book. She had only about thirty pages left, so I could not wait much longer until she was done.
"Interesting." Xavier nodded while just adding a bit of simple lining for the background of the painting. "Could you switch to that Russian song?"
"Which? I know more than one Russian song." She put down her book and took up his phone once more, tapping in the password.
"You know, that one you found when you and Ajax were looking for music."
"Are you referring to Molchat Domas тоска?" Without even waiting for an answer, she put on the song and turned to see if it was the right one. He gave it a thumbs up to indicate that it was the correct song. But he didn't turn away from the canvas, staring at it intensely to see if everything was to his liking (which it was).
y/n leaned on the stool she had been sitting on while reading to see the canvas, seeing just an outline or idea for what he was going to paint. She was completely unaware that it was her. "Even now, I know it will look excellent once you're done."
She did not think much of it and picked up her book once more to read the last few pages of it and see what the outcome was. Would Oliver and James see one another again now that Oliver was set free after doing his time?
For Xavier, however, the comment was more than just a passing thought. Because he knew she didn't often compliment people, he was completely taken aback.Eyeing her.
"You think?" He only got a hum and a nod as an answer to his question, but it did not give him satisfaction.
He then came to realise one thing: he still had his brush in his hand, and it still had wet paint on it. Looking up from the brush in his hand to the girl, whose eyes were darting across the page, she was too preoccupied with what was going to happen next to notice the malicious grin on his face as he raised his hand with the brush in it. Quickly, he flicked his wrist in her direction, causing paint from his brush to splash at her.
She jumped at the sudden sensation of something wet splashing on her face. Blinking, she raised her hand and wiped her face, only to discover paint on her hand. Turning her gaze up to Xavier, she could see him trying to keep from laughing at her reaction.
"What?" y/n closed her book and stood up, her entire face now a question mark.
"You think it's going to look good when I'm done?" Unbelievable.
"Yes, I just told you that, Xavier." Sometimes she wondered if he was deaf, but deep down she knew that he made her repeat things because he found it amusing.
"Okay, just checking in."
Annoyed that he had gotten paint on the cover of her book, she grabbed the paintbrush from his grasp and did the same thing he had done to her, flicking the brush, making it splatter paint on his face. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, he scoffed and quickly grabbed one of his other brushes, starting to repeatedly flick paint on y/n.
As a result, a paint splashing match ensued. Both of them were flicking paint at one another, and whoever got it on them jumped just slightly at the cold liquid. Then, when both of them stopped, neither of them flicking paint at each other, Xavier quickly looked y/n up and down before reaching out and painting a single stroke with the brush on her cheek.
And they were both on each other once more. They had paint strokes on their faces; Xavier had a few on his shirt; their arms; and they both had paint splatters in their hair. It was fun, with Xavier laughing as y/n was able to do one long stroke on his cheek just before he could smack her hand away. And she was smiling, a smile that was all too strong to be held back, and it did not go unnoticed by herself. She felt it, but smiling always felt good when it had something to do with Xavier.
Finally, Xavier had enough and dropped his brush on the floor, not really caring, and to stop y/n he grabbed a hold of her wrists, holding onto her and keeping her from getting more paint on him, but his hold on her wrists was gentle.
"Okay, that's enough." He could feel her struggle a little in his hold on her wrists, but his focus was on her smile. She did not directly look at him, but she smiled, and this time it was obvious that she was very aware of it.
Looking up at him, her arms relaxing in his grip, she was met by his green eyes, which were already watching her. Her eyes flickered between his, unsure of what to do. She panicked inside as this was new territory she was stepping onto. But then it hit her how short it was until curfew, and she turned her head, seeing that darkness had started taking over the outside world.
"I should go before curfew," y/n mumbled, but just as she went to pull away from him, Xavier pulled her directly back.
It surprised her when his hands went from holding her wrists to holding either side of her face. His hands had a few undried patches of paint that transferred over to her face. But she didn't care. The way she was holding her face made her look up at him; it was hard to look anywhere else. "You should smile more."
Xavier studied her face, which both had brushstrokes and paint splatters here and there, much like his also had, stroking his thumb against her cheekbone before leaning down a little just to place a kiss at the crown of her head. Not wanting to go all too fast.
y/n just stood there and let him, feeling a warmth inside her even when he pulled away and smiled a little. Seeing just the tiniest bit of shock in her eyes.
"I don't want to get you in trouble, so go." He noticed she only paused for a second before returning to reality, turning to the table, and taking her book. It was amusing yet adorable to watch the pure confusion on her face.
She turned and looked at him before walking out of his shed and back to her dorm. A genuine smile was on his face. "Goodnight, Xavier."
"Night, y/n." Something was waiting for her in her dorm, or it should have been. Otherwise, a certain hand was going to do some shit.
Reaching her dorm, confusion was still painted on her face, but as soon as she entered, y/n was met by a bouncing Enid who jumped up and down. Taking her out of the trance that Xavier had put her in, so many rushed words were coming out of Enid's mouth, and she was clearly excited about something. Spotting her sister standing off to the side, it took her just a moment to understand what was going on.
"Oh my god, y/n! Look at your bed! Look at your bed!" It was the first words Enid said to y/n taht she could detect as the blond hurriedly pushed her towards her bed.
"What is going on?" y/n asked her sister, mind still elsewhere.
"Just do as she says," Wednesday was clearly tired by the way she motioned for her to follow Enid over to her own bed.
So she did, and her bed was indeed so etching to look at—something she hadn't noticed before on her perfectly made bed. There laid a necklace, a silver one. Thing picked it up for her, holding it out for her to take, and he nodded at the hand that just stood on her bed. Behind her, Enid was looking over her shoulder at the necklace. It was silver with a peal in a little thing. There was only a single note that read: to y/n.
Enid squeaked beside her out of happiness as Wednesday took the necklace out of her hands to inspect it closer. "Oh my god, you have a secret admirer!"
"How did it get in here? It was not there before, correct?" Wednesday handed the necklace back to y/n.
"Correct," She wanted to say what she thought out loud but bit her own tongue just as Enid stopped spinning around and flopped down on her own bed. Babbling on and on about something that again just became distant words. All the while, Wednesday seemed to also have her own thoughts on it. y/n smiled at the necklace.
It was something Xavier had wanted to see, but this had been the easiest way to do it.
He got a bit more out of the night than just being able to get that necklace to her.
7K notes · View notes
wesstars · 8 months
Text
sorry, baby x (i)
wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)
summary: you’re friends-with-benefits with wednesday (maybe a bit more on your part,) and you can’t help but push her buttons a little. wc: 5.2k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, light D/s dynamics, praise, boots, strap-on referred to as both ‘cock’ and ‘strap,’ crying, biting, denial, light choking, begging, reader shushing during sex, all that good stuff. a/n: i’m very rusty. please forgive me haha. title from killing eve. this iiissss inspired by/for someone, you know who you are ;) say hi if you find me!
read part two here!!
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The last class of the day was always the worst.
Even as the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, casting the quiet classroom in a white gold glow, you could barely focus enough to remember what subject you were in. The instructor droned on about something or other—you were never the best at paying attention, relying on your subconscious and review session to get good grades. How could you listen when the lesson was just so boring, and you could steal the review from a certain Addams later on, anyway? You blinked slowly, trying to yawn discreetly. Calm was the atmosphere, as everyone was nearly falling asleep as the hour stretched on. 
A note fluttered through the air to land gracefully in your lap. 
Meet me after class.
Wednesday’s neat script, immediately recognized, made you grin, and you looked up. You spotted her, sitting next to Enid. Almost as if she could sense you looking, she spared a precious second from her notetaking to cut you a glare that could fell an army. You only laughed, covering your mouth to hopelessly hide your snicker.
The note had given you a bout of deja vu—it all started with a note, really. By virtue of you being Enid’s friend, you started in Wednesday’s peripheral circle, but you were always unafraid to confront her and eagerly prodded her to bicker with you. Enid would roll her eyes once the two of you would start again, but the way Wednesday’s neutral expression seemed to relax just a bit, made you think she didn’t mind as much. 
The first time you gave her a friendly shove during a mock argument nearly had you apologizing, as she’d frozen as soon as your hand touched her shoulder. You didn’t want to actually cross her boundaries, but when she shoved you back, nearly pushing you into a bush, the ice was broken. Your friends now often had to give the two of you the wide berth as the arguments would escalate into shoving and chasing, and one time, almost a full out siege where you were to defend Jericho and Wednesday was to defend Nevermore. 
All of the back and forth you two had was nearly as intense as you and Wednesday each were—she liked that about you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. She liked it enough to drop a note in your lap during class, some three months ago, asking you to meet her in an empty class “for warfare.” You had come with a knife hidden in your sleeve, but it ended up clattering to the floor as Wednesday pulled you in by your tie and bluntly asked you if she could kiss you. Before she could change her mind, you had kissed her hard enough for her own hidden knife to fall to the floor next to yours.
Wednesday Addams didn’t have friends. You, certainly, were not her friend, not in the way you touched her and not in the way she let you. Enid called you friends all the time, but she didn’t know about how Wednesday would pull you into a broom closet and push you down to your knees. You were sure that Wednesday would rather die than have a proper conversation about the… hooking up? late night meet ups? booty calls?? that the two of you were having. But you thought of her as your friend, and decidedly not anything more. You gave a lazy smile as you spotted Wednesday looking at you again. You knew why she had slipped you the note—the last time you’d been at her dorm room, rushing to give her an orgasm before Enid returned, you had stolen her favorite pair of Louboutin boots. You figured that the gods had given the two of you the same shoe size for a reason. No harm, no foul, right? Kicking your feet, you scuffed her shoes against the ground, knowing she could see them, knowing she could recognize them.
The sudden shuffling of books and scraping of chairs broke you out of your reverie. Class was dismissed, and you put away your supplies neatly, watching Wednesday leave first. She didn’t even look at you when she brushed past, but you knew she’d be waiting in the hallway outside. Sure enough, as you hitched your bag higher up on your shoulder, slipping your tie off, you spotted a head of raven dark hair amongst your classmates.
Wednesday looked at you evenly, ignoring all of the students filing out of the room. “You have what is mine.”
“Well, hello to you too,” you smiled brightly. Hearing her monotone voice always made your heart beat in technicolor, something chronic that you probably had to go to the infirmary for. 
She only stared, eyebrows raising a centimeter. Turning to start towards the dorms, she waited for you to catch up to her before saying, “do not play dumber than you already are.”
You shrugged, wide eyed and used to her empty insults. “What do you mean? I’m innocent.”
“No one would ever accuse you of being innocent,” she shot back. “You are a thief, at best.”
“A thief?” You asked, in mock surprise. “What do you mean?”
She pointed down between the two of you, at the red-soled boots on your feet. “Give them back.”
You cackled, unable to keep up your façade any longer. “No.” You made a heart with your hands, winking at Wednesday through it. 
Her hand collided, hard, with your wrist. Her grip was nearly painful, but you just smirked down at her. “I will only ask you once.” Her voice, still flat as usual, had a dangerous edge to it. 
“Make me.” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. You were selfish, always forcing Wednesday’s attention to you. Even though you knew you probably annoyed her to no end, you didn’t know how to stop. Of course, if she ever told you to stop—seriously, not by way of her customary glare—you would. 
You only just had time to finish your thought before Wednesday nearly tore your arm out of its socket, dragging you across the grounds towards your dorm room. How such a small girl was so fast, you had no idea. Before you knew it, you were in front of your room, with Wednesday reaching into your pants pocket to take out your keys and push you inside. 
As soon as the door shut, you could visibly see Wednesday relax, which was saying something. You drew her smaller frame closer, wrapping your arms around her waist. She turned her head to tuck it into your neck, letting out the smallest sigh. Feeling her hand come up to grab the hem of your shirt, you leaned back a little.
“Wednesday.” At your beckon, she unfolded herself from your neck to look up, eyes as dark as wood immediately on your lips.
“This is not forgiveness,” she told you.
You reached for her bag, dropping it and yours to the ground. “Mmm,” you hummed as you tilted your head down to kiss her, slowly, enjoying the burn in your stomach as she kissed you back. “Maybe you’ll forgive me later, after I’m done with you.” She pulled away, giving you an unimpressed look. 
“Arrogance does not become you.”
You just laughed, taking off your jacket, leaving you in your shirt, slacks, and last but not least, Wednesday’s very important boots. Leaning into her space, you nosed along her neck, nipping playfully with sharp teeth. You felt her arms drop back to her sides. “We’ll see about that, Weds.”
This time, she pushed into you first, all soft lips and razor teeth on yours. You sunk down, somewhere in the lowest deep as you kissed her, but your bliss was short lived, broken by your hiss of pain as she bit down on your tongue. Her hands were cold on the back of your neck, trapping you close, and you had no complaints. “Boots. Now.”
“If you want them back so bad,” you muttered, ducking your head to leave a dark bruise on her collarbone, “take them yourself.”
Wednesday put both hands on your shoulders, a glint in her eye the only warning you get. She pushed you, hard, so the backs of your knees hit the bed and you landed on your ass.
“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, Weds,” you goaded, even as she grabbed you by your shirt collar.
“I’ll take your ankles off with those shoes,” she snapped lowly, but she let you kiss down her neck again, that pale column of skin too hard for you to resist. You took your time, leaving murky violet constellations, and with each mark that you sucked into her jawline, you heard her breathing grow shakier.
“Alright,” you said amusedly. “Take them off, then.” You bit down on that spot on her neck while pushing her shoulders down, and she gave surprisingly easily, landing with a thud on her knees.
“Do not go too far,” she hissed, trying to push you off, but you kept her there, her narrow shoulders bracketed by your legs. Her gesture was empty; you were confident that she would simply throw you off if she wanted. The many times you’d ended up tossed across the room showed as testament. 
“Sure,” you agreed easily. Leaning in, you whispered, “can I take this off?” You thumbed the lapel of her jacket.
She nodded her assent, even though you could tell she was plotting a way to get you back. You went slow, leaning over her as you slid her jacket off, kissing the crown of her head. 
“Very good,” you whispered into her hair, loosening her tie. Wednesday attempted to suppress her shiver at your words, but you felt it anyway. It gave you the courage to go to her shirt, sliding the buttons open hesitantly. She straightened her back, showing you her simple but elegant black bra, which was probably from some niche French designer and worth more than the boots you stole.
But the look on her face as you slid your hands slowly into that expensive bra was priceless: her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as her lips parted. You squeezed gently, letting out a small moan of your own. She was so soft, and—
“You’re so perfect, Wednesday,” you growled unevenly in her ear, your composure slipping just a fraction. You sealed your lips with hers and thumbed her nipples, licking up against her teeth as soon as she let you. Breaking apart from her for one unbearable second, you stuck your fingers in her mouth, coating them in saliva. The affronted look on her face disappeared quickly as you pinched her nipples again with sticky fingers, the whine she let out going straight through you like whiskey.
She shuffled closer, seemingly content on her knees despite her earlier protest. Her grip was tight on your thighs, bordering on blissfully painful. Wednesday was nearly pulling you off the bed with how hard she was yanking you in to kiss her, teeth clacking with yours. She sat back on her heels and grabbed your ankle. 
“What’re you doing?” You rolled her nipple between your fingers. “Finally getting your—”
You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as she spread her legs, stocking covered knees sliding. She lifted your leg and planted your foot between her thighs, the heavy boot slamming into the ground. You raised an eyebrow, head swimming with the direction she was going. 
Wednesday was a pretty picture in front of you, shirt open, chest flushed, skirt bunched up around her hips. Uncharacteristically demure, she leaned her cheek against your knee, palm sliding up your clothed calf.
“What?” She asked, her turn for faux innocence. “You said to do it yourself, did you not?” Wednesday shimmied forward, her chest up on your shin. 
You felt her start to press up on the laces, something hot and slow, and your mouth went dry. Her knees spread more as she adjusted, her hand grabbing yours to place it on her cheek. She grabbed your belt loops, the pressure on your boot heavy. Just the mere idea of Wednesday’s pussy grinding against your—her—boots was something you could never imagine, but her shiver as she got settled made you nearly combust.
“You’re so needy, my girl…” the words slurred their way out of your mouth, likely more loving and adoring than you’d intended them to be.
“Looks like you’re the one fucking yourself,” she huffed out, a rare twisted grin gracing her face. Wednesday’s head tipped back again, a pleased little exhale falling from her lips as she pressed harder.
You cupped her jaw, pushing her shirt from her shoulder to bite, something possessive, with no inhibition, in you rising to the surface. “You do that to me, darling.”
You shift your boot closer to her, meeting her grinding circles, making her gasp and cry out your name. You were content to watch her like this, chasing her own high on you like some sinful temptation. With just the sound she was making, and her lip, bitten red, you knew she was getting her slick everywhere. Her breaths came harder with each time she pressed herself into the laces, her gentle rocking becoming more and more erratic. You almost wanted to see if she could cum like this, but as her eyes got hazier and her movements more erratic, you couldn’t help yourself. 
“That's enough, Wednesday.” She barely has your clipped tone as a warning before you pull her off your boot, rough as you hoisted her up, but keeping your grip gentle.
“Come here.” Surprisingly, she did as you asked, throwing her clothes off with the air of a girl who knew what she wanted. You watched her, every inch she uncovered sending prickles of heat up your collar. Her panties, thin and damp, landed in your hand, and you knew she saw your jaw clenching when the corner of her mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles.
You tucked the thin fabric into your pocket and reached for her, her cool skin soothing the burn in your chest. You turned her around to tuck her into you, sitting on your lap. Manhandling her easily, you could feel her muscles, taut from fencing, under your palms. You hooked her knees over yours, and spread your legs. Unable to resist a smirk at her sharp inhale, you kissed up her neck, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear. 
“You look like magic,” you murmured. “So good for me, Wednesday, letting me spread you open like this,” you continued, tilting her head to lean it back on your shoulder. 
“Consider yourself lucky,” she rasped out as you mapped your hands along her ribs, sliding them down her tense stomach to grip her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles. 
With each circle, you pulled your hands higher, close enough to her pussy that your fingers were sticky from her inner thighs. “Oh, I am.”
You cupped her pussy, already feeling her wetness coating your fingers. Forcing her legs wider, you rubbed up and down, purposefully avoiding her warmest spots as your other hand skimmed up to her chest. But you never were able to keep yourself from Wednesday for very long, testing your own patience as much as hers.
“Fuck,” you whispered, and as you pushed a finger in, her hand shot up to grab the back of your neck with a quiet oh. You crooked your finger, her slick making it easy on you. Letting your palm graze her clit with every motion, you smiled as her hips lifted, searching for more friction.
You take your time, knowing that Wednesday’s pussy was the softest thing you’d ever touched, and it was likely to remain that way. Pushing another finger in, you made sure to grind your palm against her clit every time you curled your fingers. Her soft noises were enough to have you on your knees, and you would’ve, if she didn't sigh out your name, getting your attention. She squeezed your fingers, jaw tight enough to creak.
“What is it, Weds?”
“I…” Wednesday cut herself off with a whine as your fingers twisted, the high sound shooting straight through your stomach. You beckoned with your fingers, hard, and she keened in your ear.
“I need you to fill me up.”
Her words snapped something already delicate inside of you. You took your fingers out, smearing her slick all on her hips as you flip her over. If you had it your way, you would be able to see her face, but you knew this was her favorite position. You saw her swallow in anticipation as you stepped briefly away from the bed, kicking off those catalytic boots and rummaging under your bed for you and Wednesday’s box.
Everything in the box you kept meticulously clean, knowing Wednesday’s routine of cleanliness. It would only be Wednesday Addams, a contradiction in her black heart, that loved to be as messy in your bed as she was clean in hers. You picked a black strap, one that you two used frequently. Pulling it on and adjusting it, you get on your knees behind her. For a moment, you watched her, captivated by the sight in front of you, grasping her hips. She arched her back, getting comfortable, as if you weren’t already trying not to fold and just take her like a ship to water.
You pushed yourself up against Wednesday, hips flush to her ass, letting the silicone glide against her clit. To her credit, Wednesday’s breath only came out the slightest bit shaky, even as you guided her thighs apart with a knee. You hummed as she pushed herself up onto her forearms to rock back, head turned to look at you. Wednesday had to grind down past your strap for her pussy to touch your thigh, and you laughed lowly as she flushed with the action. She froze.
“What’s wrong?” You rubbed a hand over her lower back, ready to pull away if she gave even the slightest signal.
“Do you…” she swallows, eyes flicking from you to some distant spot in the corner of the room. “Do you not want me to do that?”
For a second, you couldn’t believe your ears. There was a rush of indignation on Wednesday’s behalf, that she could ever think you wouldn’t love her desperation. Then, the wave of understanding broke over you—Wednesday wanted your approval, over an action that was decidedly un-Wednesday-like, and the final flick of her nervous gaze towards you told you that this was important. 
You grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave shadows that you hoped you’d see tomorrow. Anything physical, Wednesday would undoubtedly best you, but this was something you could hold your own on. You pushed her pussy down onto the strap, onto the rough fabric of your slacks. 
“Why would I ever not want you to show me how much you want it, mmm?” Your question was a growl wrought with satisfaction and a winner’s unapologetic glee, and the effort you put into your tone was worth the way the tension vanished from Wednesday’s eyes. She rolled her hips again, her Addams confidence returning, letting you guide her into a smooth rhythm. 
“Besides,” you leaned forward, one hand letting go to come down a hair's breadth from Wednesday's nose. You folded yourself over her body, your tight grip still controlling her hips. “I know you can’t cum like this.”
The whine came unbidden from Wednesday’s throat, high and breathy and perfect. Nevertheless, her hips and keening gasps followed your even rhythm, and you saw her grip on the pillow go white-knuckled.
“I’m pleased with you, my dear. I do love to watch you suffer.” At your words, sunk roughly into her ears like cannonballs on kindling, Wednesday moaned, loud, into the space between the two of you. You ignored the burning torch that her sounds dropped into your lower stomach, choosing to murmur: “you can take it, right?”
“I can take it,” Wednesday whispered back, almost mindlessly. “I can take you,” she continued. “I want it.”
You settle back on your heels, satisfied. The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was only to do with your physical exertion, and nothing with how you felt for the girl under you. I can take you, not I can take it, I want it, not I want you.
You pull your thigh from under her roughly, making her yelp. Reaching around her narrow hips, you trailed your fingers down from her belly button to her clit, rubbing small circles. “Ready?”
Wednesday nodded, another whimper escaping at your touch.
“I need you to tell me yes, Weds.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
You push in, slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust. She was still prepped from your fingers earlier, but you didn’t miss the chance to gather her wetness and smear it against her clit. Wednesday was taking deep breaths beneath you, just like how you taught her the first time you two had used a strap. The rush of endearment you felt for her at that memory was distracting, you decided, and you pushed it away.
You slowed yourself down as your hips were once again up against her ass, hands moving to squeeze her shoulders. You saw her eyes shut tightly, the corners growing shiny. Wednesday always needed a moment once you put the strap in, something you were happy to give her.
She was still inhaling deeply, thighs trembling. “It…”
“It what?”
Wednesday opened her eyes; they were brimming with tears, dark lashes sticky. “It hurts…”
Your body tensed, already about to pull away, but with a surprisingly strong twist, she forced herself back onto you. A whimper rose high from her throat, and you had to take a breath to keep yourself from flipping her around to kiss her right then.
“Hurts good,” she whispered. You close your eyes, near involuntarily. Fuck, this perfect, perfect, girl would ruin you, just as much as you wanted to ruin her. You lean forward, pressing your chest into her back, forearm across her shoulder blades to ground her. 
“How does it hurt, love?”
“It’s—I’m full,” Wednesday gasped out, glossy eyes sliding shut as you shifted on your knees, cock shifting inside. 
“It fills you up, huh?” You breathed into Wednesday’s ear. 
She nodded.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” she said, almost immediately. Experimentally, she swiveled her own hips around, and it made her hiss and bite her lip. “You fill me up.”
You exhaled through your nose, resisting the urge to just grab Wednesday and slam your cock impossibly deeper. “And?”
“And it’s good,” Wednesday whined out. “Hurts good.”
The knot in your chest loosened, the tension in your body broken like a wave. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to hang onto Wednesday’s every word the way that you did. You pulled out almost all the way, and snapped your hips forward, hard, burying yourself into her.
“Good girl.”
Wednesday let out a breath that bordered on a moan, and you smirked to yourself. Maybe she was right, and the arrogance was getting to your head, but you couldn’t help it. You set on a steady pace, gently brushing one of her braids aside to grasp the back of her neck. You felt yourself slipping into it, drunk on the way she let you touch her, your world tunneling down to just Wednesday—everything was Wednesday. 
Every time you pushed in, it was punctuated by her gasps, and you could feel her breathing start to grow uneven. It stirred up something innately protective in you, for Wednesday. Her shoulders were shaking, tension pulling her taut. 
“Wednesday, baby,” a pet name she would only tolerate in her hazy, lust filled state, “I need you to breathe for me, alright?” You slowed down, following your intuition on what she needed.
Still flush to her back, you listened to her stuttering inhales, deeper but not enough for her to catch her breath. “Shhh,” you cooed low into her ear, covering her eyes, and taking her hand, still tight on the pillow. “Breathe, my love.” Inexplicably, Wednesday let go of the pillowcase and intertwined your fingers, squeezing your hand and your heart tightly. She listened to you, for once, slowing down and softening her breaths. You could feel her tears on your palm, and you shushed her again, pressing kisses on her temple where her hair stuck to her forehead.
“Alright?” You slid your hand away, watching her eyes carefully.
She nodded. Skimming your fingers along her cheekbone, you let the warmth in your heart for the smaller girl seep into your words.
“Just say the word, Wednesday, and we’re done.”
“No,” she murmured back. “If you stop now, I’ll throw you out the balcony.” Though she was out of breath, a sticky, flushed mess under you, you had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. You smiled.
You pick up your rhythm again, this time covering her smaller body with yours again to suck hickies into the back of her neck. Your other hand brushed down between her thighs to rub her clit in circles—she was so wet that it was hard to keep up with your thrusts, but it was worth the choked cry that escaped from her throat as you hit that spot, her fingers tightening around yours. 
Wednesday arched her back into you, burgundy lips bitten blood red right before your eyes. “Keep going,” she told you. You had no intention of stopping, watching a flush bloom on her neck as you kept up your ruthless pace. 
But despite that, you wanted to take your time with her. Every time she would tense up, you would slow down, making it impossible for her to reach that peak you knew she wanted. You forced yourself to slow down on both her pussy and her clit, just as she was starting to shake, and in spite of herself, she cried out in frustration, a tear slipping free. 
“Sorry, baby.” Your tone edged on cruel, desperately needing to see how much she could handle. “I know you can handle it, just for me, okay?” Strap still fully inside, you bent to kiss the juncture of her neck, lips and teeth leaving a bruise. Her skin was hot to your touch, even though your shirt. You bit down again, matching all of your other marks that graced her skin.
Wednesday whined again, inhibition cracking faster by the second. “Don’t stop…”
“Don’t stop what?” You asked, voice turned mocking. “Use your words.” You reached up to clasp the back of her neck, rubbing the tension out. “And be good.”
Her breath quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another tear rolled through her mascara. “Don’t stop…”
“C’mon,” you cajoled, hand coming around her neck to squeeze her throat. “C’mon, my love.”
“Please… don’t stop fucking me.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and she mewled as you nuzzled your lips against her shoulder, your fingers starting up on her clit again.
A shiver shot up your spine, making you curl protectively around Wednesday, the hot burn of possessiveness, to mark her again, near unbearable.. “Anything you want, darling.” You slammed back into her, hard enough to push the both of you up the bed. One of her hands grasped at your forearm, pulling your grip from her neck. She wrapped your arm across her shoulders. Your breathing came hard, but you didn’t stop, each whine in your ear making your head spin. You had no idea how much time was passing, or if it was even night or day; your entire world was hazy and fuzzed with raven black.
“I’m—” Wednesday cut herself off, biting down on your arm for a moment, leaving a smear of lipstick.
You let out a noise that was more of a growl than anything. “Let me hear you, baby.”
She gasped when you pressed a hand to her lower stomach, briefly feeling the bulge there from your cock, before going back to her clit. You didn’t pause, each thrust pushing Wednesday closer to the edge. “Use your teeth,” she choked out, her cheeks flushing. “Now, please.”
You complied, eager. Scraping your canines down her ear, you stopped at a tender spot behind her pulse point, the skin already marred with purple and red. A sailor’s delight, you thought, a bit hysterically. You sank your teeth in, not holding back, knowing she wanted it. The effect was near immediate; her eyes slid shut, and her body tensed against yours, an unrestrained sob tumbling out from her lips. She reached for you, nails digging into your arm. Your hands shook, all of her tightening the coil in your stomach. Wednesday’s orgasm crashed down, and it shattered something in you, deep and addictive.
Far down in you, below what you were willing to admit, Wednesday’s unknowing grip on your heart tightened even more. You felt like you’d just jumped off your own edge, inevitable as the eternal separation of sun and moon.
“I came,” Wednesday’s voice was a ragged whisper, a ghost of her earlier whimpers ringing in your ears.
“You did, my love,” you shushed, gently sliding your cock out, catching Wednesday as she seemed to melt into the bedsheets with no support. You guided her into her back, relishing in the way she trustingly let you. Tucking the strap away to clean later, you massaged her thighs, thinking they’d be sore later. She seemed to be in a daze, dark eyes fogged with the afterglow. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara from her tears, and the rims of her eyes were a fuschia pink. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that her gaze behind her slow blinks as she watched you was just as possessive as you were. You did know better, you swore, but it didn’t stop you from nuzzling your face into her stomach, intoxicated on the smell of her arousal, delaying the clean-up for just a moment longer. 
“Have you forgiven me yet?” You teased, unsure if she could even hear you. You smoothed her fringe off her forehead, already moving to sit up and get her a bottle of water. But before you could move, Wednesday’s hand grabbed your wrist with lighting speed, a shadow of the earlier afternoon.
She cracked an eye open, and though her eyes were shot red, there was a challenging shine, blade in moonlight, there. “Who says you’re done?”
--
reader: i fuck her good but i don’t think she likes me back :(
wednesday: if you don’t hold me right now i Will murder
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!
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sleepinthrumyalarms · 9 months
Text
— a study in demon
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader
warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up
summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?
word count: 4.5k
a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy
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The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.
You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.
Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.
You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.
Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.
You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.
It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.
The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.
Just like her.
You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.
Smells just like her, too.
Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.
That should get you through the day, you think.
And it does. For the first half of it, at least.
You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.
It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.
You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.
You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.
An omega who is in heat.
You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.
You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.
As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.
“Hey, (Y/n).”
You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.
“Hey, uh...”
It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.
“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.
“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”
“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”
It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.
The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”
The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.
“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”
She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.
The same one you’ve felt in class.
The omega in heat.
Fuck.
The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.
She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.
“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”
You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.
“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”
You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”
Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.
An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.
You feel like you’re going to puke.
“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”
Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.
You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.
She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.
With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.
enid
bro you gotta ditch
it’s an emergency
i just stumbled into a girl
uhh dina?
she’s from ophelia hall
anyways i think she needs… help
yk
from a fellow omega wolf
i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants
for some fucking reason
and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress
but i really had to dip
i was doing her a favor by dipping actually
i locked her up on the 2nd floor
202
i really had to leave
Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.
The device dingles in your hands.
oooohh
its okay
i gotchu
u should totes find weds tho
im sure she can help u out ;))
You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.
Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.
As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.
You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.
And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.
Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.
The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.
Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.
“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”
Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.
“Is something wrong?”
Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.
She wants you to say it.
You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.
“I’m…”
Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.
“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.
Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”
Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?
Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.
“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”
Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”
You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.
Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.
“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”
The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.
“Come here.”
You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”
You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”
You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.
The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.
“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”
You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.
“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”
Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.
Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.
You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.
“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.
Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous –  Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.
That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.
Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.
A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips –  the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.
If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.
And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.
Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.
That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.
Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.
“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”
You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.
“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.
She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.
Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.
“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.
You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.
The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.
Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.
A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.
“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”
“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.
“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”
Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”
You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.
“Answer me.”
“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”
“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”
A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.
In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.
Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.
As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.
Hers. No one else’s.
Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.
“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”
The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.
The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.
The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.
But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.
“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”
You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.
Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.
You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.
“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.
Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.
Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.
“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.
“I have my ways.”
You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”
“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.
You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.
“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”
“Wednesday.”
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crazyoffher · 7 months
Text
THOUGHTS & PRAYERS.
jenna ortega x fem!reader
summary: drunk at a party, it takes you more effort to calm jenna's actions than you expected.
warnings: smut (18+) — masturbation, strap-on referred to as “cock”, praise, teasing, small mention of light choking, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slapping (yippee!), shortly withheld orgasm, begging -> mentions of alcohol (drunk!jenna), weed, and use of vulgar language. dom!r + sub!j
word amount: 4700+
a/n: happy (very late 😭) birthday, wes :) @wesstars
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“Maybe we should go, Jen.”
You tugged the short girl by her arm mindlessly, failing to remember her drunken, unstable frame of mind. She stumbled into you, her hands moving to stabilize herself on your chest with a sharp yelp of terror. 
Your hands wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, sending fake smiles to those who eyed the two of you. “Sorry! This is what I mean, Jenna. You’ve had enough to drink; why don’t we call it a d-”
“No!” Jenna’s face buried itself into your chest for a split second, seemingly to catch her breath, before she pushed herself off you with a lazy grin. “I’m fine, love. Go,” she pushed your chest playfully, “and enjoy yourself for once! I’ll be by the table.”
Her speech slurred, and you reminded yourself to give a couple of her friends an earful later for getting her into that state. You watched with a sigh as she stumbled into the house's living room, shoulders tense from your worry, and you laughed at the irony of her words. She was the one causing you the stress she claimed you needed to get rid of, so how could she advise you to unwind?
You followed your feet to the backyard of the house, where the view of a softly illuminated pool area and the scent of the outdoors offered a welcome contrast to the raucous noise of people chatting loudly over booming music and the lingering smell of alcohol and marijuana (along with whatever else was circulating inside the house). The only break in the noise was the group of four people by the hot tub, engaged in animated and playful banter.
The pool shone as you grew closer to it, sitting down on the edge of it with your knees hugging up to your chest. You never liked loud things or partying, and everybody you met and knew found humor in it, as that was mainly what your entire acting career was built around. You couldn’t go a month without being dragged to a lousy party that consisted of at least one person trying to get you high, and hell, the only reason you went to the one you sullenly found yourself at currently was because of your girlfriend.
“Uh, hey.”
Your mind snapped away from your lost thoughts, and you turned to be met with a girl who gave you a delicate smile, wrapped in a towel with wet hair dripping down the top of her back and onto the covering fabric. “Can I sit with you?”
You only nodded, the tips of your fingers drumming along to a beat that played in your head, to try and disregard the half-naked girl beside you. She didn’t seem to be much of a bother, though, awaiting only the soft company that she felt you would provide.
“Not a talker, I suppose?” Her head quirked up from its formerly bent stature, turning with raised eyebrows in the hope that you’d answer her question, which you did. ��Not really with people I meet, let alone a girl that seems to be naked underneath a towel.”
Her smile grew at the monotone joke you spurred, and she let out a mild breath to resemble the humor she found in it. It was only when she first sat down that you realized, from your peripherals, that there was no strap of a bra or bathing suit visible on her shoulders, and you almost knocked yourself in the head in a physical manner for not realizing sooner.
You questioned her. “Come on; aren’t you freezing? It’s like 45 degrees out.” Your neck craned away, feeling your tenses of shivers overcome you, and you pondered how the girl seemed unfazed by the chilly weather. “I grew up in Minnesota. I used to go skinny dipping in frozen lakes, so I think I’m good for this weather.”
Her speaking to you made you feel uneasy in a way, considering the lack of clothes she stood in and the thoughtless conversation she was advancing toward you. Jenna would undoubtedly give you an earful for even allowing her near you, but you shook the thought away at the girl's following words and the overcoming fact that Jenna was probably cornered by flirtatious men at that moment.
“Plus, this wasn’t even my idea.” She gestured to her covered body, and you picked up on the fact that she was referring to her lack of clothing. “It was my boyfriend's over there. Bet me around twenty bucks I couldn’t last in that volcano pool even in this weather, but that sucker quit before I was even getting started.”
Her finger stretched outward, pointing in the direction of a man covered in two towels, visibly shaking from the frostiness, and you let out a small snicker at the sight. Alright, maybe it wasn’t such a tense situation then, but you still couldn’t help but worry about Jenna in the back of your mind and whether you should go check on her.
As if the universe could read your mind, your phone buzzed with a custom ring that you had designed for Jenna’s messages, and the semi-naked girl's eyes widened at the sight of you practically clawing into your pants for the device. You pulled it out with strength, almost dropping it into the pool in the process, before hurryingly clicking on Jenna’s message.
Com gt me i thined ive hac enuh two drivnk
Where are you?
K154hen flerr
“What do you think this says?” You pointed your phone toward the girl, darted a finger at the most recent text sent by Jenna, and her eyes squinted in an attempt to decode. “Kitchen floor?”
“Bingo.” You rang, pulling yourself up from the concrete floor, and the girl held onto her towel as she managed to get on her feet. You darted your eyes between her and her boyfriend, who still sat there, wrapping a third towel around him that seemed to be for the remaining people in the hot tub, and you raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, if you excuse me, I have to go and retrieve my drunk girlfriend.”
“I might as well go with you,” she said as she adjusted the towel, turning to glance at her boyfriend. “I left his and my clothes in a room upstairs, and I think he needs his.”
“Be my guest.” You moved to the side, allowing the unnamed girl to go ahead, to which she sauntered, giving her boyfriend a warning of her temporary absence as she headed up the small hill to the back door with you trailing behind. The stench of weed and alcohol hit you like a flash flood, and you mentally recoiled at the stench that seemed to have grown stronger.
“Jenna?” You called out as you turned to the kitchen, swerving past girls and guys who were spilling their drinks, and you spotted the girl on the floor with a tired expression etched on her face. A smile grew on her lips at the sight of you, though it dropped almost immediately when her eyes met the semi-naked girl behind you, who whispered to you with curious eyes, “Hey, I think you forgot to mention you were dating Jenna Ortega.”
“Hey!” You lunged forward at Jenna’s attempt to stand up, holding the drunken girl in your grip when she stumbled on nothing but air, though that didn’t deter her attitude toward your new friend. “Keep away from my girlfriend!”
“Jenna,” you warned, sending the girl behind you a look of sorrow, to which she just nodded, “Relax, baby. You’re drunk, you know that?”
“Nuh-uh.” She pouted, clinging onto your torso in an iron-grip hug to try and divert you away from the girl, sending her looks of anger that she seemed to back up at. “I’ll go get my clothes.” She pointed to the stairs behind her all the while backing up, to which you nodded while trying to stabilize Jenna further.
“Yeah, leave, you whore!”
“Jenna!” You scolded her, and she muttered something incomprehensible before burying her face in your chest. You could smell the mixture of alcohol and her perfume, and that alone told you enough about her current state. “You got it?”
“Mhm.” She hummed when you had to pull her away from you and set her on her feet, only for her to take one step forward and crash into the table in front of her. You held back a laugh and put on a face of worry, pulling Jenna up only to see her laughing at her tumble.
Once more, she wrapped her arms around you and buried her face into your chest with a sigh, her drunken haze spurring more than just her inability to walk stably. “Do you know what I would love to do?” Her words were slurring, and she gave out a slight giggle at the end of her sentence, giving you a small idea of her next words.
“What is it?”
She spoke one word that you couldn’t comprehend before she giggled again, moving her face from your chest to raise herself an inch or two on the tips of her shoes, her lips grazing your ear as she spoke out a slurry, “For you to bend me over this table and fuck me raw for everybody to see.”
Your eyes widened immediately, and you felt a small burn in your stomach when her fanged teeth nibbled gently at your earlobe and her hands slid down your abdomen. You could only thank God and your alcohol-addicted party-thrower friend for managing to get 95% of the party attendees drunk out of their minds.
“Freaky and tempting,” you said, leaning into Jenna’s touch and watching a small grin tug its way onto her face, “but no.” And so you pushed her away, getting a small whine out of her while her hands bawled into fists on your shirt, trying to pull you closer to no avail.
You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, your hand gripping the base of her right one as you tugged her along and out of the kitchen area. “Now come on. I can’t drive you home without the fear of you somehow making us crash, so you are going upstairs.” You pointed to the staircase that the two of you advanced toward, and Jenna let out a small giggle at the thought of you and her alone in a guest bedroom, her mind rushing to dirty thoughts.
It took a while, with emphasis on the ‘while’, to get Jenna up the stairs; her legs seemed to have forgotten how to raise themselves, so with multiple rounds of struggle, you ended up dragging her by her torso up the stairs while she laughed wildly. Your key plunged into the hole of the lock, cracking open the door with the small piece of metal your friend had gifted you when he first bought the mansion, seeing as he kept all his guest doors locked for privacy.
“Okay, ther- baby, no.” A grunt left your mouth when Jenna attempted to pull you down on the bed with her; a loud whine of her own left her mouth when you pulled away your hand that was formerly in her grip, trying to be pushed down into her crotch.
Her head dug into the bed, whining from the sexual denial you granted. “Why not?” 
“I’m not going to touch you when you can’t give me a truthful form of consent, baby. I’ll be back.” You turned to the door, shaking your head at Jenna’s loud groan at the idea of your temporary departure. “We’re dating, for fucks sake! How much more consent could you need?”
With a slight hop in your step, you hurried down to the kitchen, where you had previously encountered chaos, to get water bottles with the intention of trying to sober Jenna up. You ran into your friend on the way back up, and he gave you a good laugh at your explanation regarding Jenna before approving your request to stay the night.
“Just don’t fuck in my bed, ‘aight?”
“I promise I won’t!” You meant it at the time, though your statement didn’t withhold itself later, to his demise.
“Jenna?- oh!” You shut the door behind you quickly, gulping at the sight of Jenna sprawled out on the bed, her pants long discarded on the edge of the bed along with her underwear, and her hand in between her legs. She moaned breathlessly, finding relief in rolling her hips into her hand, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan when she locked eyes with you.
“Please, baby, this isn’t enough.” She begged, her hand circling her clit with a sloppy pace, and her heaving breaths contracted her sentence. “Need you so bad, please.”
Your hand dove for the door handle from behind you, turning the lock, and that gave Jenna a glint of excitement; she’d finally get what she desired and-
“No, and drink these.” You put your hand up, referring to the four water bottles that you managed to stack into a single hand, before walking forward to set them down on the nightstand beside the bed.
Jenna’s hand retracted from her clit, the nub throbbing with need, and she pulled herself up with the remaining strength that held her to sit on the edge of the bed, facing you. “I can see it,” and even through the slurs, her voice still sounded like honey, “You want it too, and this is me giving you my co-consent, or whatever the hell it is you want.” Her arms stretched forward, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you flush against her, hands snaking to your bottom half with an erratic shiver from you.
“Please,” Her thighs managed to encapture your left leg, and she wasted no time in thrusting her hips into your clothed body, a burning sensation pooling its way back into her stomach. “Fuck, I need you, ri-what the-?”
She yelled out in shock, pulling away from you and moving to wipe off the liquid you had thrown at her face. “What the fuck, (Y/N)?”
You sighed, closing the cap of the now half-empty water bottle before throwing it toward her. “Is that bringing you to life, finally?” 
“I’m not drinking this.” She argued, throwing it toward you just for you to deflect it and toss it back in her lap. It only took the look in your eye for Jenna to open the bottle and start drinking, shrinking under your dead gaze and dribbling water on herself.
She maneuvered around on the bed in discomfort from both her wet shirt and her aching clit, moving to discard her shirt. Jenna’s body was breathtaking, and she still found hope that she’d get what she desired most when you couldn’t tear your eyes off of her perky breasts no matter how hard you tried, eyes darting back and forth to try and not make it obvious, but she could see right through you.
“(Y/N),” she whispered, her words like silk, and you turned your head to meet her gaze. “Please.” 
Her voice, formerly smooth, had turned desperate, her thighs rubbing against one another to find a sense of relief, and she whimpered at the small senses of pleasure while making eye contact with you. You practically drooled at the sight of her completely naked, desperate for your touch, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold off.
“Jenna?” Her head shot up at your voice, the same sense of desperation lingering in her eyes and through the small whimpers that left her mouth. “What’s your last name?”
“Ortega. Is that good enough confirmation for you now?” Her voice grew in angst, becoming more deterred by each moment you left her naked, completely vulnerable, in front of you.
“Alright.”
You sighed, and before Jenna could comprehend what you had said, you were on top of her with your legs entrapping her thighs, pulling her into a brutal kiss that she immediately reciprocated. Her hands roamed your body, sliding underneath your shirt to feel the way your muscles contracted under her touch, sending excessive shivers down your back that she ached to deepen.
In a merciless grind against your clothed core, Jenna's hands dug down to your belt, only to be slapped away and repositioned above her head, linked together as your hand bound them with your wrist. Her back met the bed, and you wasted no time in angling her head to the side with your other hand to sink your teeth into her neck flesh, like a vampire, to create a later painful and dark hickey—a marking.
“Fuck.” She moaned out, eyes shut, with a whimper to follow at the piercing mania. As you felt up her waist, your fingers trailed along the center of her body before you licked her neck, moving your hand per the arch her back made. Jenna’s fingers dug into your scalp, pulling you closer to her neck while she resumed her hip movement.
“Come here,” you whispered, removing yourself from Jenna. A whine fell from her lips until she was directed onto your waist, her breasts jumping straight in your face, and you sneered in satisfaction. Your hands ran up and down the outline of her body, feeling the way her body curled inward from her perfect figure, and you always made sure to acknowledge it.
Your eyes traced from where your hands led before meeting her gaze with a tilt of your head, and how your eyes looked oh-so innocent drove Jenna’s mind wild, a drastic comparison forming from her desperate, needy eyes. She followed your eyes as you moved your head forward, taking a nipple into your mouth, sucking on it feverishly. You relished the way Jenna reacted: a loud moan, head flying back, and her hands digging into your scalp to push you further into her, if possible.
“Agh- fuck!” 
The contact itself wasn’t all that pleasurable, but the recognition that it was your mouth on her body was enough to send her mind spiraling. She was too swept up in the lust, acting as if she had never experienced one’s touch, to pay attention as your fingers slid into the tiny space between her core and your waist until one of your fingers bumped against her clit. A loud gasp erupted from her, and her hips immediately ground down into your hand.
“Baby, no,” you warned, but she didn’t stop her movements, pushing and rolling her hips into your hand to gain sensational pleasure. Boldly, she reached both her hands down to grasp at yours and push it further into her core, but her plan would not succeed by itself.
You pushed your body forward, leading Jenna’s movements to a halt in a collapsed state. Now resuming the position on her back, she let out a whine that grew into a loud yelp when your hand met her dripping pussy with a harsh smack. “I said no; you got that?”
When she didn’t reply, you sent another smack to her pussy that made her legs shake, a blissful whine erupting from her, and she nodded her head eagerly. “Yes!”
“Good girl,” you purred, leaning your weight down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. Your fingers lingered on her cheek, running their tips along her jawbone, before you withdrew your hand to deliver a light smack to the skin, compelling Jenna to groan and bite her lip. “You’ll never realize how mad you drive me.”
Jenna’s eyes widened when she felt a hard surface rut against her dripping core, drowning the surfacing fabric of your pants in her slick, and she bit back moans at the slow pace you ground on her. “You’ve had that the whole night?”
“I didn’t expect you to get drunk, baby,” your thumb encircled her lips, “and I didn’t want to do anything else tonight but fuck you rough in that pool outside, but this will do.” 
Jenna sucked on your finger when you inserted it in her mouth, running her tongue up and down the skin, and it gave you a purposeful reminder of how she’d suck off your strap-on any day, her knees constantly bruised from the wooden flooring she’d kneel on while whoring out her mouth for your cock.
The imagery that flashed through your mind made you drive your thumb inside her deeper while your other hand worked at your belt, taking off the leather lining to release the grip it had on your waist. Instead of unbuttoning the clothing article, you simply unzipped it to open the crotch and wasted no time in pulling out the silicone material, pushing the tip against Jenna’s clit to send her mind spiraling.
She let out pitiful moans as you continued to finger-fuck her mouth, ‘accidentally’ pushing the silicone tip further into her clit and making her hips buck up in desperation, and her teary, doe-eyed pupils looked up at you with silent pleads. You enjoyed the view more than anything; finding Jenna underneath you, so needy and ready for your cock, was a sight people yearned for, but only you could ever get it.
“You want it, hm?” Your hips drew forward with a stern smirk growing on your lips, swiftly entering the tip halfway into her before snapping your hips back, and Jenna bit at your thumb. The hair that covered her face in her disheveled state jumped up as she nodded her head eagerly, finding difficulty in begging when your thumb was knuckle-deep in her mouth, tickling at her throat.
“I can tell; you’re practically drooling, baby.” A dribble of spit was rolling down her chin, and you knew it was solely because of your thumb shoved deep into her mouth, but why waste a perfect opportunity for teasing? It’d be so unlike you.
With a loud pop and a string of saliva attached, you removed your thumb from Jenna’s mouth, and she let out sharp breaths that soon grew into whines of discomfort. Her whines grew heavier as she started to grind her hips into your cock, her head flung back, and her hands gripped the bedsheets with intense strength while she tried to bring herself to orgasm from just grinding on you.
“No, alright? Can you hear me this time?” You pushed down on her hips in an attempt to still them, but your words only fell on deaf ears. Her movements were unwavering, and she pressed herself against you while whining louder and louder. Her back arched, and her nipples hardened from the intensity of what she was feeling, all the while disobeying your command purposefully just so she could feel something.
A shaky moan escaped her lips when your hand brought itself forward for a harsh smack to her breast, immediately taking two fingers to tug at her nipple afterward and leaving Jenna to choke for air. “What, you can’t fucking listen to me? I said no.”
Jenna never got her chance to apologize insincerely, flaring her mouth with the expectation of words to come out, but the only thing that left those plump lips was a high-pitched moan at the unexpected movement of you sinking your entire cock into her. Despite having no neural connection with the silicone that drove your girlfriend crazy, you could feel Jenna stretch around it, and the acknowledgment alone could have left you braindead.
“Fuck,” you groaned, finding pleasure in the dumbed-up expression on Jenna’s face alone, “taking me so fucking well. I can almost feel you, baby; it’s driving me insane.” Your hips retracted with no intention of slowing down, finding enjoyment in the tormented countenance that shone on Jenna, the pain and pleasure mixture practically splattering on her face.
You thrust along at a moderate speed, holding Jenna’s waist and upholding her slightly to drive your cock deeper into her, forming her into a moaning mess in a matter of seconds. Even through the loud music booming from outside the room, your attention was focused on the breathtaking girl in front of you, all submissive and so needy for you with those pleading whines that left her mouth, mindlessly begging you to go faster.
“Yeah, want me to go faster, hm?” Jenna’s head perked up at your inquiry, bobbing back and forth in a wordless answer, and you gripped her nipple tight once more. “You have a voice. Use it.”
She let out a whiny “please” before reaching up to grasp your hand that was around her breast for support, discreetly trying to roll her hips further into your cock. “I said to stop doing that.” You tugged at her nipple upward, farther than last time, and Jenna let out a shriek at the shock of pain that inflicted her. “A simple please won’t get you anywhere; you want to act like a whore tonight? Then beg like one.”
The only thing that left her lips was a grunt when you snapped your hips forward, bottoming into her with a single movement, and the slowed retraction of your hips was enough to get her going. “Fuck, please, baby! I need you so bad…” Her words droned out in a sobbing tone, throwing her head back in disoriented whines. “Need you deep in me right now. Please.”
You bent down to give her a kiss of appreciation before driving your hips deep inside her. A girthy moan left her lips that turned into high-pitched moans when you thrust faster into her, holding on to her hips for support. You met her eyes, melting in the way they looked up at you with a combination of gratitude and pleasure. Oh, how she looked so pretty under you.
Your pace grew faster by the second, sweat beads forming at the edge of your hairline while your hand dove down, rubbing Jenna’s aching clit. Her back arched up almost immediately, letting out a moan that you’d be surprised nobody heard even through the music that played through the house, droned out between the two of you behind the locked door. Your eyes lingered on the way her thighs started to tremble and the way her breaths grew heavier between moans, making you smirk in satisfaction.
“God, I wish I could feel you, ‘cause I know that you would feel so good.” You breathed, unintentionally letting out a small moan that was soon discarded from Jenna’s mind when you snapped your hips roughly, sending her mind spiraling. “You’re close, hm? Think you can hold it off for a little, baby?”
“I-I’m not sure,” she managed to say, her mind dumbing down when your hand slithered up her chest to squeeze lightly at her neck. Her pleasure increased with each passing second, and her cunt ached for a release that she knew she could not grant without making you angry at her for disobeying.
“Just a little longer, okay?” You reassured her, not failing to notice the way your movements became more restricted. Jenna’s walls tightened to hold back her orgasm, which desperately ached against the walls of her cunt. Her breathing labored as her hands clawed their way up to your shoulders, pushing you down and against her to hook her thighs on your hips.
Her head leaned into the crook of your neck, filthy moans leaving her mouth instantly when you spewed out the words, “Cum for me,” and so she did. As she rose to her high, your hands dove to her back, arms encircling her torso. With each passing second, her body trembled increasingly, until the only sensation left for your hands to hold onto was the feeling of her labored breathing.
One of your hands made its way to her chest, dipping between the small gap of her breasts to settle over her heart, soothing the area with your thumb while you directed her breathing to try and ease her mind. “Are you okay?”
She only nodded her head, her hands sliding their way up to the back of your head to pull you in for a deep kiss, showcasing her appreciation despite her former misbehaving antics. You gave her a solemn smile, rehooking both your hands on the small of her back to push her onto your lap. Your back met the headboard, and Jenna’s head dipped down to give you one more kiss. Shivers ran down her spine when your breath tickled her ear.
“Think you can give me one more?”
taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug @idkwimdtbh @yolehiho @likefirenrain @ctrlamira @lovelyy-moonlight @dunohilly @jjsmaybank20 @xzennypennyx
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Can we get some more jealous Wednesday from you your writing is just so great! Maybe an angsty thing where Wednesday has a friends with benefits situation with reader and they get into an argument about it and reader avoids her for the next few days hanging out with another person and Wednesday watches this all go down and as days go by getting more jealous how touchy this person has been and she drags reader away up to her room and could you give it either a fluffy or smutty ending please? 👀
casual love
masterlist word count: 2332
any ‘wednesday’ fic i do will be set at ‘nevermore university’ so the minimum age of any character will be 18
wednesday addams x fem!reader
18+ : angst with a happy ending, smut; fingering, brief choking, heated kissing, jealousy, implied dom/sub, pretty soft smut tho
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A secret, that’s what you were. Just a way to pass time in the privacy of her dark room, it didn’t mean anything to her and it didn’t to you to begin with. A casual relationship is what you both had agreed upon, no strings, no feelings, just a tryst. A way for you to blow off steam.
And it was great, it really was. Until you let your heart control you - but it happened all at once. You didn’t notice until it was too late, the way she kissed you felt different and any compliment she gave in passing made you bashful. What once was meaningless sex suddenly meant something to you; you had fallen for the painfully unattainable Wednesday Addams and she was none the wiser.
It was bittersweet. You’d often imagined your first love, how you’d get butterflies around them and their kiss would feel like fireworks, how their lips would taste oh so sweet and when you’d hug you’d never want to let go. But expectations only hurt you in the end.
The worst part of it all is that you were right, you had fallen down the rabbit hole of romantic cliches with flushing cheeks and an eager excitement at the knowledge of her company. You’d fix your appearance any time she’d knock on your dorm’s door and greet her with a smile, a swirling in your belly when she’d give you a smile in return. 
It was all you’d imagined but it wasn’t real. Feeling this way was forbidden, as stated in the agreement the pair of you had made. So now each sweet kiss comes with a sour aftertaste and the sex leaves you feeling empty, clinging onto something you can never truly have. You think it’s better to have her like this than not at all, but how long can it last?
So you’re holding on to a hope that you know will crush you, the idea that she could feel the same. Lying beside her half naked in your bed after an evening of lust all you can do to stop the nauseating sadness is stare up at your ceiling. The way her arm brushes against yours gives you goosebumps and it’s enough to make you cry. 
“Wednesday, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” The words came out before you had a chance to think them through. You couldn’t look at her, focusing instead on the lightbulbs dimly lit filament with your nails picking at a loose thread in the material of your t-shirt. 
“Why not?”
You coughed to clear your throat, sadness beginning its change into anger at the way she seemed so unbothered. Any chance of quelling the simmering feelings was that hope you clung onto but you’d be a fool to entertain the idea of her loving you back. 
“Because I broke our number one rule.” You sighed, wiping the tear that fell from the corner of your eye before it reached the pillow. You thought you heard her breath hitch and that glint of possibility flickered for a moment until all she said was ‘oh’. You kept quiet, you both did, with Wednesday leaning against the headboard and you feeling hot with embarrassment. With sadness. And anger.
“I suppose we should stop this, then.” She spoke, classically indifferent just as always. You’d usually find it endearing but right now all it does is heighten that bubbling fury. “I thought we’d agreed to keep feelings out of this-”
“Get out, Wednesday.” You interrupted through clenched teeth but she just looked at you, lips parting for just a second as though she was about to speak and when she didn’t words rose from your throat like acid. “I said. Get. Out.” You sat up to look at her, gesturing towards the door, watching as she noticed the pure anger over your face and the glazed over eyes, whites turning pink with held back tears. 
You didn’t watch her as she left, fixing your gaze on your hands in your lap with the tears spilling now, causing you to gasp out a sob with the aching in your chest. 
Wednesday didn’t truly understand what she was feeling, feeling much at all was rather new to her so this strange hollow sensation doesn’t make sense. She wandered the hallways back to her own dorm with her eyes cast down, wondering why you had to spoil it.
She thought it had been going well, she wasn’t like her parents with how obsessed with all things romance they are, she didn’t need love. What she needed was something to pass the time, to satisfy the urges that she finds herself having. She would never fall in love. 
Wednesday didn’t care, not at all, she didn’t return your feelings so what issue is it if you try to move on with somebody else? She doesn’t care when, the next day, you quite obviously avoid even glancing in her direction. Keeping your eyes so far away it was as though she was an eclipse.
It definitely didn’t bother her to see you spending more and more time with Bianca over the following few days, laughing in her company and allowing her hand to linger on your arm. Anyone would imagine themselves crushing the offending hand with a hammer and some brute force - it didn’t mean anything. 
“Wednesday, go and talk to her.” Enid spoke with a nudge to her best friend’s arm. You were lingering in the hallway with Bianca and Yoko and Wednesday had barely taken her eyes off you. Enid saw the way she looked at you, longingly and in adoration, if only her best friend wasn’t so oblivious.
“Why would I do that?” She muttered in response, dragging her eyes away from where you laughed, leaning into Bianca’s side in a much too close fashion for Wednesday’s liking.
“Because you obviously care about her.”
“You’re delusional Enid, I think those nail polish fumes are getting to your brain.” 
“And you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, I just don’t see how she could’ve moved on so quickly.”
“I thought you weren’t an official thing?” Enid answered with a teasing smile, catching Wednesday in a little bit of her own logic. 
“We weren’t. I’m not like my parents, Enid. I don’t fall in love, I don’t get butterflies in my stomach or whatever other nauseating concepts you all like to babble about. It wasn’t anything, it was just casual.”
“People who don’t have feelings for somebody usually don’t stare down anybody who so much as puts an arm around them. Whether you like it or not, Wednesday Addams, you have been bitten by the love bug.” She grinned, a perfect contrast to the scowl on Wednesday’s face.
“I can assure you no insect has bitten me, I’d rather enjoy such a thing.” She muttered, crossing her arms in front of her chest in annoyance, a burning anger bubbling inside of her at the sight of your head leaning against Bianca’s arm as the three of you chatted.
“You laugh at the things she says-”
“I find her amusing.”
“You invited her to our dorm to watch movies.”
“We have the same taste.” 
“You let her read your manuscripts.”
“She’s one of the only intelligent people around here.” Wednesday shrugged.
“You know her coffee order, you bought her her favourite book, you let her meet your parents, you-”
“Enid. You may be my best friend but I am not immune to the annoyance of your incessant rambling.” She interrupted her with a raise of her hand.
“My point is, you have feelings for her. And they’re definitely not negative ones.” Enid returned with a smirk. “And you’re definitely jealous.” She added in a whisper. She expected an arguing retaliation, a comment on her being stupid or ‘too wrapped up in trying to witness a real life rom com’ as Wednesday had once labelled it. But instead she was met with quiet, seeing Wednesday intently looking behind her with her jaw clenched dangerously tightly and her hands balled into fists. 
She glanced over her shoulder to find you being pulled into a hug and turned back to the empty place that once held the body of her best friend. 
Thick soled black shoes clicked against the wooden hallway floor as Wednesday walked past her, nearing where you stood, oblivious to her approaching form. You weren’t aware of her presence until she grabbed your arm, yanking you away from the group as they just watched in a stunned silence as she dragged you away without a single word.
“Wednesday, what the fuck are you doing?” You asked her as the way her fingers grasped at your upper arm were bound to leave a mark behind, and you knew how much she enjoyed that. 
“I am sick of watching her put her hands all over you.” She hissed, dragging you through her door before slamming your back into it firmly with her hands on your waist. 
“You lost any right to give a shit the moment you walked away.” You returned in an equally angered tone, trying to fight against her strong hold of you. A hand made its way around your throat at your attempt to move.
“You’re mine. Nobody else is allowed to touch you. Only me.”
“And why the hell should I do as you say?”
“Because I broke the rule too.” She rushed out, hovering her lips over yours. “It has been brought to my knowledge that I’m actually in love with you.” Her breath was warm against you and you closed the space between you with a push of your lips against hers, reunited with more passion than before. 
It was an easy rhythm to fall back into after a few days apart, with her hands pushing beneath your shirt to feel your skin beneath her palms and yours pushing the jacket past her shoulders. 
She stepped backwards with her hold still on your waist, locking eyes with you with a small smile tugging at her lips which you returned until you reached her bed. She guided you onto your back, climbing on top of you to straddle your waist as she pulled her shirt over her head, ridding you of yours shortly after. 
Her lips kissed along your collarbone softer than they had before, teeth grazing your skin, licking tentatively across your neck with a bite and a suck to leave a mark behind. It was more tender than before but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to show who you belonged to,to let everyone see.
She reunited your lips once more, pushing her tongue past your lips along with slow and heated kisses. Your tongue flicked against hers only to be pushed with dominance whilst she smirked against you at the small whimper you let out. Everything about the kiss was intense, messy and palpable with little thought and precision, just two bodies moulded together in lust. 
Her hips pushed into yours, mindless grinding against one another with desperate attempts to relieve the aching feeling between your thighs. The way she pulled at the button of your jeans just showed how truly hungry she was for you, slipping her hand past the waistband of your underwear with a teasing fingertip sliding through your folds,
“God, Wednesday, touch me. Please, I need you.” You murmured into her mouth, it was as though she was addicted to the feeling of your lips moving with hers the way she wouldn’t pull away. It was different than before, less transactional, not something for a quick relief but something neither of you wanted to end.
She groaned into your mouth at how you felt around her fingers when she pushed them into your pussy, revelling in the warmth she’d missed as she began a steady pace, curling them into you perfectly whilst her kisses never wavered. 
It felt so good to be kissing you, letting herself feel everything she’d been trying to ignore. How she loves the flavour of your lip balm and how you play with the hairs at the nape of her neck when you hold her close. She let herself enjoy the way your teeth gently tug at her bottom lip and how you sound when you whimper into her mouth when her thumb rubs over your clit and how excited she gets when your hips buck in an attempt to chase your release because it lets her know just how good she makes you feel. 
She let herself feel, finally letting herself experience what is an act of love between two people and no longer just a casual fling - a quick fuck with a focus on pleasure before parting ways. 
Wednesday could feel you getting close, soaking her fingers while your hips matched the rhythm of her pushes into you and your nails dug into the skin of her back leaving crescent shapes behind. 
“I want to see you fall apart for me.” She spoke through her heavy breaths, breaking away from the kiss to look down at you and your parted swollen lips. Her cheeks were tinted pink and her eyes were even darker than their regular shade. Her hair was slightly ruffled from your hand and she looked at you with pure lust. The sight along with the fingers fucking into you was enough to bring you over the edge, clenching around her digits with a moan of pleasure and an arching of your back off of the bed. 
She watched you intently as you came down from your orgasm whilst she pushed her fingers past her lips, sucking your juices from her skin appreciatively until they were licked clean.
“Fuck, I love you, Wednesday Addams.” You breathed.
She greeted you with a rare large smile, immediately grabbing your face between her hands and smiling into the kiss she pressed to your lips. She loved you too and she’d spend the rest of the day showing you just how much. 
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simpforboys · 1 year
Text
in for the long haul
xavier x fem!addams!reader
summary: you’re the daughter of fester and attend nevermore. xavier tries to fight for your heart no matter how long it may take.
warnings: kinda angsty, fluff ending, reader is goth (just like me fr), swear words, xavier is such a simp
works for both blood related or adopted daughter (whatever your imagination desires) as there’s no physical descriptions
IM SO PROUD OF THIS PLS
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ever since your father had been keeping a low profile, you had been staying with your aunt morticia and uncle gomez.
your father knew it would be the best option for you. hanging out with your cousins, pugsley and wednesday, should be fun, right?
but after too many troubles with wednesday, morticia decided to send you both to nevermore academy.
wednesday had taken a strong hatred for the place from the beginning. you, however, were beginning to warm up to it. you would never admit it, but you secretly liked your black and white uniform you and wednesday received.
you began to except friendships (unlike your cousin). a vampire named hera was your roommate and probably your closest friend, other than wednesday’s roommate, enid.
but out of everyone in the school, one person specifically stood out to you. xavier thorpe.
you didn’t know why he had taken such a strong liking to you. he made efforts to be around you, make you feel included, and try to see you smile.
so, as you sat in thornhill’s class, you tried to keep your eyes open as she taught on and on and on about specific types of plants.
xavier could feel your boredom from his desk a few seats away. he grabbed a sheet of paper and pencil and began doodling on the white sheet.
you were so zoned out you almost didn’t feel the little tap on your ankle. you looked down the table to find a black rabbit that appeared to be alive, straight out of a drawing.
you looked up at xavier threw your eyelashes. your cold, empty, dead stare was enough to almost make him feel scared.
you were about to reach down to the rabbit when thing crawled down your leg, squishing the rabbit out of existence by accident.
you watched thing’s embarrassment as he crawled into your backpack and zipped it up after him.
you couldn’t help but feel the end of your lips twist into a grin as you looked away. it wasn’t that you didn’t like xavier, you just believed you can spend your time elsewhere instead of taking the risk of heartbreak.
you watched your father’s sanity slowly decrease after the loss of your mother. maybe that’s a reason for his quirky behavior, but the concept of being so in love that it makes you lose all sense of your mind was something you couldn’t comprehend.
why risk everything for one person?
sure, you had your uncle gomez and aunt morticia as an example of sickening love. the way your uncle admired your aunt in such a way, it made you question love.
why is love so good to others, but can be so cruel at the same time?
➽─────────────────❥
after class, you began to walk down to the courtyard when you heard someone jogging behind you. rain was pouring from the sky.
“y/n,” xavier called out.
you stopped dead in your tracks, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes. “what?”
“where are you going?” he questioned as you continued to move.
“dunno. maybe i’ll go find something interesting to distract me from the world.”
“are you excited for outreach day?”
“excited for extended labor during a saturday in a little town that doesn’t like us? not exactly how i like to spend my weekends.”
xavier stared at you. sometimes he couldn’t figure out why you were so closed off, so private, so distant.
but he couldn’t lie and say it didn’t intrigue him. when xavier first saw you on campus, he was immediately interested. your beautiful looks (and the fact you and wednesday had little to no color on) captivated him. he needed to know you.
“well, i’m going to the library if you want to come with.”
you watched as xavier licked his lips. you pondered for a moment.
“fine.”
his lips curled into a grin.
the two of you walked to the library. a comfortable silence was between you too, and you could tell he was nervous.
xavier held the door open for you as you entered the library. you immediately walked over to the giant window that overlooked the rain and the small town of jericho.
xavier pulled out a chair across from you. he noticed you watching the rain.
“i like this weather. rain makes me feel good.”
“it’s so… gloomy.” xavier argued.
“look at who you’re talking to,” you joked.
xavier laughed. it was very rare you showed your sense of humor.
“there’s just something about clouds and rain to me. something very… gloomy.”
you referred to xavier’s previous statement. you could see his blush and you couldn’t help but smile at him.
and xavier swore he fell harder.
➽─────────────────❥
you and wednesday stood side by side as principal weems went around with a hat. outreach day had finally arrived.
wednesday reached in and you followed. “what’d you get?” she questioned.
“the weathervane. you?”
“i don’t know what shop this is. but i need to get into pilgrim world.”
wednesday had briefly explained to you about the case she’s trying to solve as well as her novel. you chose to try to ignore her antics because you knew how hyper-fixed she gets on things.
but if she needed you, you would be there in a heartbeat.
“tyler works at the weathervane.” wednesday added.
“the boy who’s in love with you?” you questioned your cousin. wednesday stared at you as you both began to walk to the bus.
“unfortunately. it’s quite frightening how much he likes me. same with xavier for you.”
“understood. i just hope today goes by very quickly.”
➽─────────────────❥
when you entered the weathervane, tyler was there happily to introduce you to his work. “wow, you are very similar to wednesday.” he commented.
“we’re cousins. why are we waiting?” you asked, noticing he hadn’t made any move to start.
“waiting on one more person to show up- there he is.”
you turned your head to see xavier walking in. great.
“y/n?” he stared at you.
“unfortunately.”
“alright, let’s get started.”
tyler gave you guys aprons and then walked you through drinks, taking orders, and normal café stuff.
“y/n, go take your first order.” tyler instructed as he handed you a notepad and pen.
you walked over to an old married couple. when they saw your cold face and dead-looking eyes they jumped.
“what do you want?” you asked.
“actually, i think we’re going to head out.” the old woman motioned for her husband to exit the booth.
xavier couldn’t help but start laughing as you walked back over to them. tyler was shaking his head.
“that’s the opposite of what we want to do, y/n. xavier, you try.”
you both watched as xavier walked over to a group of girls. you didn’t hear what they said, but the way they were giggling as he spoke made you feel sick to your stomach. 
you rolled your eyes as you walked over to the pastry case and took a bite of a cookie. 
“y/n- you know what, never mind. just try to be nicer to the customers.” 
when xavier walked back over with a notepad filled with orders, he immediately noticed your cold and blank stature. 
“are you done flirting with those barbies?” 
xavier smirked as he leaned against the counter, eyes locked directly on yours. it made you feel nervous. 
“why? are you jealous, y/n?” he asked. 
“you wish.” you rolled your eyes. 
“don’t worry y/n, you’re the only one i have my heart set out for.” he mumbled, now standing extremely close to you. you couldn’t help but shiver. 
you were about to speak once more when tyler walked back over. “start getting to work, guys.”
xavier watched as you quickly walked away from him. fucking tyler. 
after an hour you, tyler, and xavier decided it would be best for you to make the drinks rather than take orders. you were absolutely miserable seeing the way xavier made every customer laugh and smile. it was like torture, and not the good kind. the worst part was, you didn’t even know where this feeling was coming from. 
it wasn’t until wednesday walked in when you felt like you could finally breathe. “how are you, cousin?” she asked. 
“i feel like crawling into a deep, dark hole until i shrivel up and die. you?”
“lovely. i feel the same. is tyler here?” 
tyler came walking around the corner. wednesday and him walked away from you as you noticed thing crawling towards you. 
“finally, a real person.” you whispered to thing as he signed what’s wrong? on the counter. 
“i wish to go into darkness and never come back out.” you explained to him. 
xavier walked over to the counter and noticed your whispering. he furrowed his brows, looking over to see thing quickly signing to you. 
“how did thing get in here?” xavier asked suddenly. 
both you and thing jumped. thing went to handshake xavier and you swore you felt betrayal. 
➽─────────────────❥
you opted to walk back to nevermore after the incident in the town center, regarding thing and wednesday blowing up the statue of joseph crackstone. 
mostly, you needed to clear your head. what was it about xavier and those girls that made you so angry today? 
unfortunately, you didn’t get too much time to think. xavier had began chasing after you, calling out your name. 
“you okay?” he asked when he finally caught up. 
“i’m wonderful.” you answered shortly as you kept walking. 
“why are you so closed off?” xavier finally asked. 
“why are you so open?” you shot back. 
“i’m trying so hard, y/n. trying so hard to be your friend, maybe even get you to be my girlfriend. but you just keep pushing away.”
“i don’t see a point in dating. love is pointless to me. in 300 years, you wouldn’t be able to remember me. my soul, my existence, my face.”
“so that’s the reason? you’re scared of love?” xavier’s voice got softer as he walked closer to you. you didn’t move away (despite your shaking hands and pounding heart). 
“love can be a really good thing in life, y/n.”
“then why can it also be so cruel?”
“you have to take risks. in order to want, to get, to have something, you have to take a risk.”
he was standing dangerously close to you know. 
“you’ve made me feel something so different these past few months. just please, let me show you how good love can be.”
your breathing was staggered as xavier leaned in, lips barely touching. “can i kiss you, y/n?”
fuck it. 
you connected your lips to his as your hands came up to hold his jaw. he immediately placed his hands on your hips, pulling your body even closer to his. he was so desperate for you. 
and maybe you just now realized how desperate you were for him. 
after a couple moments, you pulled away slightly.
“i can take a risk.” you mumbled against his lips.
you felt him smile against your mouth as he kissed you once again.
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marvelfilth · 9 months
Text
Little death (18+)
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x f!reader
Warnings: g!p Wednesday, soft Wednesday, established relationship, smut, blow job, cockwarming, lots of Italian petnames.
Summary: working with normies takes a toll on Wednesday, but, luckily, you're always there to make it better.
A/n: I don't know any Italian, so please tell me if I made any mistakes.
Masterlist
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You wake up to the sound of the front door clicking shut. Blinking blearily you hide a yawn behind your palm. The clock reads eleven pm and you sigh, wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you trudge into the kitchen, where Wednesday fixes herself a cup of coffee. You frown, stepping into her line of vision.
"Cara mia," she greets, "you should be asleep." She frowns as you unsuccessfully try to hide another yawn.
"I wanted to wait for you." You gesture to the couch and Wednesday grips the cup tighter.
You know she doesn't like it when you sacrifice sleep for her sake, but what she doesn't know is that you can't properly rest without her by your side, holding you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
Lately she's been spending more and more time at the station, working twice as hard as her peers to receive twice as little credit. It's eating away at both of you. She claims it doesn't bother her - the way they refuse to take her seriously, even when she solves cases that usually take months in weeks - but you see it in her rigid posture and the clench of her jaw. She wants recognition and she has every right to demand it.
"I still have some work to do." Her tone is monotone, but her eyes betray her emotions - she hates the words just as much as you do.
You nod. "I'll heat up your dinner." You turn around to busy yourself at the stove, but a hand on your wrist stops you.
"I'm not hungry." Her words are barely a whisper. "Go back to sleep. In our bed."
You want to argue, but you see the look in her eyes, the one that tells you you won't win. So you push her fringe to the side and place a tender kiss to her forehead. "Don't stay too long, okay?"
She nods reluctantly and takes measured steps to her office, a cup of coffee in hand.
You sink against the counter, shaking your head. The girl is going to work herself to death.
You remember the first time you asked her why she is so adamant on working at the police station when she has the money, the means and the skill to open her own firm. You remember the way she stood up straighter (you didn't even know it was possible) and told you only one thing, "No matter how much it pains me to admit it, they're far more experienced then I am, and their expertise is one I can learn from."
You sigh and walk into your bedroom, accompanied by the tapping of Wednesday's typewriter. You decide to give her an hour, tops.
Thing taps on the nightstand rapidly, despite the exhaustion you can clearly see in the added wrinkles on the pale skin. You shake your head, "You'll lose a finger if you do that."
He slumps back dramatically, and you can almost see him huff.
"I'll get her in an hour, don't worry. Just go rest."
He leaves with that, albeit begrudgingly, and you make sure he doesn't go anywhere near Wednesday's office to hide her briefcase.
You spend at least twenty minutes laying on the bed and staring mindlessly at the ceiling. When half an hour passes you get up and make your own cup of coffee, sleep already forgotten by the time you take the last sip.
Thing wiggles a finger at you and you roll your eyes, "It's one cup, Thing, I'll be fine."
He taps on the pillow and you sigh.
"Yes, I'm aware it's almost midnight."
He taps again, this time forcefully and you feel like a reprimanded child.
"Okay! I get it. No need to act like my mom. I just don't want to fall asleep and let Wednesday work until the morning," you mumble, earning a sympathetic pat on your shoulder.
You look at the clock again. Quarter to midnight.
You decide to test your luck.
"I told you to go back to sleep."
You burrow into her neck, your breath fanning the skin there. "You don't need to apologize." You start loosening her tie, and take it off when she doesn't protest.
You freeze in the doorway. Your girlfriend continues typing, but you can tell she hears you shuffling around as you make your way to her.
"You had coffee." She says as soon as your arms circle her shoulders. She sighs and pushes back against you, letting her head fall on your shoulder in a display of vulnerability only you are allowed to witness. "I'm sorry," she utters.
"Cuore mio," she mumbles, tilting her head to grant you access.
You hum, peppering her neck with featherlight kisses, hands sneaking beneath the collar of her shirt to trace her collarbones.
"Let me take care of you, Weds." Your words press into her skin, your lips brushing the sensitive spot on her neck. "Please?"
She pushes your hands away and turns her chair to face you and it's the only answer you need. You sit on her lap, her hands land on your waist, squeezing gently. Her eyes close as you unbutton her shirt, and she relaxes in your hold, almost melting into the leather of her office chair. You waste no time in getting it off, presenting yourself with a delicious view of her pale body. You lean lower to tease her breasts with your teeth. Her hands slide lower on your waist and you take it as a sign to move. You take off her bra in one swift motion and throw it on the floor, latching on the exposed skin faster than it hits the floor.
She whimpers quietly, the sound almost going unnoticed by you. You grind on her lap, feeling her harden, and get back to work, enveloping the other nipple in the warmth of your mouth, enjoying the way she arches into you.
"I'm gonna use my mouth, okay?" You breathe out, palming her over her pants.
She nods shakily as her hands settle on your ass, squeezing possessively. "Anything you want."
You squeeze her shaft before climbing off her lap onto the floor, but she stops you, blinking as she looks around the room. Her eyes glint and she reaches to grab a blanket you gifted her off the small sofa. She folds it neatly before placing it on the floor near her feet, only then allowing you to kneel before her.
You feel like you're about to explode.
"I love you," you whisper, kissing her knee, "so much."
Her face lights up with a rare smile, making your heart squeeze tightly in your chest. "I know, mia amata, I know." The term of endearment so easily slipping past her lips makes you nuzzle into her thigh, littering it with kisses.
You don't know how you got so lucky.
She gently massages your scalp, not rushing you as you both bask in the moment. You pull away just enough to undo her belt and buttons on her pants. She lifts her hips and you slide them off slowly, revealing the bulge poorly concealed by her boxers. Her fingers thread through your hair and you lean to kiss her through the fabric, enhaling her deep, musky scent. The twitch is barely noticeable, but it makes you quicken your pace, eagerly tugging her underwear down to reveal her thick shaft. You sit back on the balls of your feet to take in the sight of her sprawled on the chair, her legs spread and her cock standing proudly, waiting for your mouth to claim it.
Wednesday squeezes the back of your neck, asking, pleading, and you comply, taking the reddened head of her cock between your lips and sucking, enticing a low moan.
You grip her thighs with both hands and bury her shaft deep in your throat, blinking away the tears.
"Don't hurt yourself," she manages to whimper, her fingers painfully tight on your neck.
You hum around her, earning a low whine and start bobbing your head up and down. Her moans grow louder each time your nose buries in her dark hair, her hips snapping up to meet you halfway.
You can tell she's close.
"Just like that, tesorino," She cries out, and finally forces your face down, using you to pleasure herself. You gag around her thick length, swallowing precum.
She thrusts fast, blabbering in Italian as she chases her high. Her eyes roll to the back of her head with a final snap of her hips and she cums, her cock buried deep inside your throat.
You struggle to breath and swallow, pulling away from her and letting her paint your neck and breasts white.
You catch your breath, reveling in her reddened cheeks and heaving chest.
She lazily reaches behind her to rummage around one of the drawers and pulls out a box of wipes. She works slowly, tenderly brushing your skin clean. Then, she tugs on the string of your silk robe, her pupils blowing even wider when your naked body is finally revealed. She pats her thighs and you don't wate a second in straddling her. You pull her in a tender kiss, one full of love and promise.
She guides you up and nudges the tip of her cock against your entrance and you sink down, clenching around her length.
"Can you keep still for me?" She asks, her voice hoarse.
You nod, glancing at the mess of her desk. "How long will it take?" You ask, knowing full well you'd stay forever if that's what she wanted.
"Not long." With that she turns back around, places her chin on your shoulder and goes through the papers on her desk as you struggle not to whine, your pussy pulsing at the slightest nudge from the ravenette.
You relax against her when she finally settles, and burrow your face into her neck, smiling. She places occasional kisses to your temple, making sure not to jostle you too much.
She enjoys torture, but not when it comes to you.
Your eyes start to drop and you decide to busy yourself with undoing her braids, untangling from her to face her fully, the motion making you both swallow back a moan. Your fingers thread through the dark tresses with utmost care, massaging her shoulders on your way up and finally fully undoing her braids, letting her hair fall free.
She looks breathtaking.
"Bed?" She asks, and you realize you've been admiring her far longer than you thought. You nod, slumping against her.
She gets up without as much as a hitch to her breath, cupping your ass and pushing you snug against her, her dick rubbing inside you deliciously. You moan into her ear, urging her to move faster and she complies, gently laying you down on the bed not even five seconds later.
She cradles your face between her palms and peppers it with kisses as she starts moving inside you, setting up a pace. "Anima mia." A kiss on the underside of your jaw. "Luce della mia vita." A chaste kiss on your lips, as she fastens her thrusts. "Sei il mio tutto." She mutters, losing herself in your body.
You're too out of it to understand what she's saying, simply nodding to each statement and squeezing tighter around her with each foreign word. She stretches you, bottoming out in your gushing center. Her mouth busies itself on your breasts, paying enough attention to each hardened nub.
"Wednesday, I'm-" you cry out, pushing her head back down when she tries to look up, "Keep going please, please, please," you moan, letting tears spill free.
"Let go for me," she whispers, "now, cara mia."
You come with a loud cry, arching into her, squeezing her length as she releases inside you with a low whine.
"I love you," you pant as she falls on your chest.
She hums softly, her eyes growing heavier by second, and nuzzles deeper into you. "I love you," she mutters at last, before finally surrendering to sleep.
-------------------
Cara mia - my dear
Cuore mio - my heart
Mia amata - my love
Tesorino - sweetheart
Anima mia - my soul
Luce della mia vita - light of my life
Sei il mio tutto - you're my everything
Requested by 🧞‍♀️ anon
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