》ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɪss《

La Parca | Adult!Wednesday x Reader (Couple of Cards AU)

It was kill or be killed. The role of God now laid in your mortal hands, its burden weighing your shoulders down and leaving a permanent print on you that Wednesday did not expect you to gain.

Summary: Reader has taken a life for the first time, by her own hands. Wednesday unexpectedly has to deal with this grief that plagues her partner. Warnings: Non-smut. Hurt/Comfort?? besides that nothing i think. Words: 2.2k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of detectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU.

A life dripped from your hands.

Dirty, muddy blood soaked your palm with the weight of despair on it. You could feel it seep through your skin and stain your bones a vibrant red of shame. The smell of it reeked of putrid death that you were never fully used to, no matter how many gruesome cases you took with Wednesday but those cases were different. The dead, decomposed bodies you saw were nothing compared to what you did this hellish night. They were dead by someone else’s hand, the harrowing experience of taking a life not a burden on your shoulders but theirs. 

The dimly lit room had shadows and darkness dense with murmuring accusations, your heart thumping madly in exclamation for what you were witnessing. You were alone, alone with a body, yet you could feel the imaginary wrath of a village descend upon you. The pale moon, ever gorgeous, bathed you and your hands in silver, but could not tamper with the vibrant red glow of blood. The cacophony of whispers and murmurs drilled your ears with a shrill sound that only exponentially grew louder, until it abruptly stopped.

Reality had dawned on you, that moment of lunacy slipped past your fingers. You had taken a life. You took a life in exchange for your partners, for the innocent citizens frightened by the darkness of the night, but it was a life nonetheless. 

A bodyless limb, stitched up yet soft to the touch, crawled from your back and stationed on your shoulder. Observing (somehow) that you were frozen completely, watching the blood pool around the serial killer that made the town tremble with fear. His blood gleamed with the way the moon lit it, you could see it drip over the tiny cracks of the wooden floor, you could hear it drip down below whatever was under the floorboard. Thing tapped your shoulder, but you could not move. It was not the wounds the killer had inflicted upon you, but the shock.

Blood gushed down your arm by the slash wound on your forearm, a direct result from the conflict, and your thigh numbed away at the makeshift tourniquet stopping the flow of your stab wound. A limp wouldn’t stop you from walking out and calling your partner to alert her of what had just happened, and it never deterred you from venturing down the basements and up the attics of these maniacs – who usually held people hostage. 

But tonight, you were frozen in place like a zombie, willing to bleed away along with the man who you rightfully had to kill. Not in your right mind, at all.

Thing was crawled back down your back and did the smart thing he did. Texting Wednesday and sending her an SOS along with an address, and ringing the police.

The ramshackled cabin in the middle of nowhere was the hideout of the monster, and Wednesday was, unsurprisingly, first on the scene. Hurried steps soon slowed down to a full, inaudible stop when her dark eyes peered at the scene before her, watching you intently and wondering if… you were at all okay. 

She glanced over the dead body and thought, tactfully to herself, that she wished to be the one to have taken his life but she would be content by merely watching him bleed away pathetically like this. However, that sweet, juicy nectar of justice swiftly served had the bitter after taste of you, unable to understand the strange feeling that overwhelmed your body.

Words unspoken, feelings understood, Wednesday left you there to process it as she got to work with examining the rest of the cabin. In your field of vision, stationary and unmoving, black miasma threatened to overtake all until the red and blue lights flashed and shunned that wafting darkness away. Another dose of reality, your ears starting to hear the moving world around you again. Sharp, anxiety-inducing sirens blared from the distance and you…

You had just killed a man.

The gratitude of the public soothed you little and even worse, the headlines dedicated to you and your heroic service to the community did not make you feel like a hero. You felt conflicted, like you were never to be forgiven. A blur of shapes and jumbled words were all that you recalled from that moment Wednesday turned you around to tell you the cops were about to arrive at the scene.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Wednesday firmly said, her usual commandeering voice offering little help in your composure.

Then, it was a mixture of blankness and a painting too destroyed to make a concise deduction of. As if someone had grabbed a thick brush filled to the nth with white, watery paint and smeared it all over your memories.

But you do remember something. Wednesday had guided you in your stupor back out of the police station once the questioning was finished, ushering you into her car and taking you not to your home – as warm and comforting as it may have been. Instead, the car traversed through the beaten path towards her home. The sight of that mansion, usually so big and cold, felt strangely comforting, less macabre than it usually is.

Wednesday’s fondness for you went unseen when you laid in a coma, but now you were conscious and observing the way she took care of you in your stupor. Not with an ounce of malice or annoyance, but preoccupied for you. The crease in her eyebrows was a tell that you had never seen stay in her face for more than a second, but now it seemed to permanently stay painted in her features no matter how much she tried to undo it. She washed you, this time with your willingness, quietly and thoroughly. Was the smell of blood perhaps beginning to annoy her? You could not know.

With soft instructions to get dressed, you attempted to but found it difficult. Your injuries, now tended and protected, still sent tentacles of pain all across your body – a simple move igniting a concerning amount of pain that made you wonder if the stitches would pop back out. But you wished to struggle alone for a while, until Wednesday walked into the guest bedroom to observe you trying. Her hand placed on your sane arm stopped you from moving further. Those dark hues suddenly felt soft to look at, compassionate, but still firm in a strange way. Wednesday helped you get your clothes on carefully with no remarks or tease, comfortable to touch you and to see you in this state. One would think she would relish in your pain, even if just a smidge, but she did not.

The cherry oak wooden table stretched comically from one end to the other. A table that would be surely used to host a big bouquet of many dishes and even more guests. You had plopped down to eat something quietly, solemnly chewing away flavorful food that, to you, suddenly all tasted bitter. Wednesday quietly stalked into your field of vision, emerging from the dark corner of your eyes with a plate of her own and sharp silverware to match. She placed her plate down, pulled her chair and sat right next to you. Out of all the places to sit, out of all the things to do, she tacitly chooses to sit by you during your lunch time. The sound of birds chirping away the warm mid-day were the only things accompanying the sound of forks and knives scraping the fine ceramic plates. The occasional creak of the old cherry oak being the only exciting occurrence at that moment.

Words were seldom used between the two of you that early morning. The two of you co-existed orbiting around each other yet never addressing one another beyond glances. A look that told you that Wednesday would wash your dishes, countered by a look that insisted on at least helping her dry the plates. A look that told you that Wednesday was going to the library to read and write was countered by a mere nod and a saddened smile that wished her endeavors to turn out fun. 

The eerie quietness of it all stretched to every inch of the mansion, like tragedy had struck not just you, but Wednesday as well.

Now lying quietly and unmoving on that big bed, with Wednesday so grimly lying next to you in that distinctive position of hers, words started to pile up in your gut. Total pandemonium within you, demanding to be let out and spoken, to be set adrift in the cold air of the mansion. To appease that annoyance, you finally opened your mouth.

A hoarse voice that you didn’t expect talked on your behalf, like it was crusted by the stillness for such a long hour. Or perhaps it was your mental state manifesting in your body, transforming it and changing it. Just like you felt after that harrowing night.

“I don’t feel…” a pondering pause, hearing Wednesday shift on her side to look at you. “Normal.”

Wednesday stared at you with an unflinching stare for a moment. “You did the world a favor, he was a monster.”

A deep breath in, then a hesitant, frightened glance at her. Her expression of neutrality softened to one of care, once again.

“I took a life, Wednesday,” you were concise, feeling the burden of what happened slowly feel lighter as you said those words. Your cross all the more bearable to carry. “I didn’t enjoy that.”

Wednesday knew that you were a normie, but your strong will and resilience put you over many of the ‘normies’. And yet, she had contemplated that occasion where she would be met with a situation to make any normie squirm, something that would click in you that would – in her own words – pose to be a problem in your partnership. What she thought would happen was that one day you would cower away from her interrogation methods, that you would realize just how macabre she could get, or that maybe you would be forced to look at one too many dead bodies to stomach.

But you pulled through in all of those situations. Not without your disagreements and negotiations, but you got there with her and stuck through her.

Never in her life, not even with her gift, could she envision that this would be the thing to break you. Justice sometimes could be served by your own hands and in some occasions it is the only way to serve justice. A fight to the death, a fight for survival or maybe a wicked game of Russian Roulette where a psychopath would willingly take his own life only if it meant you would risk yours. This was your first time taking a life, your first time having to choose when someone died. Wednesday understood this predicament you were in, but could not word any comforting words. 

She, too, was grieving. Not because she did not have the chance to get rid of a serial killer with her own hands, but because you had to do it to save yourself and create this despair in yourself. Above all, she felt upset that you felt as bad as you did. There was an ounce of annoyance within herself at the revelation. After all, Wednesday was seldom protective of people, but you were her partner. You were the one who comforted her in those weak moments that she rarely had; you were the woman that gave her so much, someone that held strong for her and did not hold those feeble moments over her head mockingly ever. You were her woman.

Quid pro quo.

Wednesday did not know how to comfort you, but she would dare to try it. Shifting, she pulled her body closer to you and carefully grabbed your unharmed arm and moved it. It surprised you a bit, but she willingly snuggled up to you, head on your chest and draping your arm around her. It was something new, but very sweet that she would do it. And you knew why she was doing this, as well. A small smile tugged your lips, honest, even if it remained there for a short moment. Summoning all the strength you had in you, you hugged her, squeezing her to you and relishing in the comfort of closeness.

Words were accessories to the two of you. Sometimes needed to compliment each other, sometimes required to bring it all together smoothly. But at this point in your partnership, words sometimes could be left to hang loosely next to the coats. Tonight was a mixture of both.

You understood Wednesday’s attempt at comfort and welcomed it; Wednesday understood that taking a life was not easy for someone like you to do. Yet, you found solace in being able to freely speak of something that had bothered you so deeply.

“It changes everything,” you softly let out, knowing it was the only way you could explain it.

“Maybe for the best,” Wednesday quietly retorted.

That thought had not crossed your mind. It didn’t erase the grief, but it made it easier to digest. Sometimes, it was a sacrifice that needed to be made for something better. A sacrifice you were willing to make.

You held Wednesday tighter and allowed yourself to indulge in a soft kiss to her head. An affectionate gesture that meant so much. It was a ‘Thank you’, it was a ‘I understand’, and it was – above all else – something that words could not hope to measure.

Today was just today.

jenna ortega works

series

(The Party & The After Party (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

(Get Me (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

Shirt (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist

oneshots

jenna ortega x reader “HOME” (18+)

jenna ortega x reader “TRUTH HURTS” TRUTH HURTS 2

jenna ortega x reader "FIRST PLACE"

jenna ortega x gp!reader “SHE”

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 wednesday addams x vampire reader

tags. blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. MINORS DNI!

word count. 1595

a/n. first wdw in weeks, wow... just a small thing for my vampire fellas. | masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.

Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.

“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”

“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”

“Now that you do, stop it.”

“I can’t control it.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”

Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.

Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.

“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.

The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.

Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”

The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.

All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.

The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.

Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.

“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”

“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.

Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.

“I profoundly hate when you do that.”

“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.

“Stop talking. It’s an order.”

You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”

“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”

“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”

Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.

It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.

For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.

She needed you as much as you needed her.

Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.

Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.

“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”

A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.

The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.

Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.

Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.

Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.

Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.

Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.

“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”

As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.

“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”

Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.

“As you wish, master.”

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

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

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

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

My Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Why not?”

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

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

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

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

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

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ALL MINE

Warnings: G!P Reader, jealous jenna + smut (oral r receiving) and bad writing

Summary: It should’ve been clear you were all hers.

A/N: published this late bc i didn’t have my computer lol

Flashing lights, clicking, shouting, and smiling, are what's seen and heard during this event. The Met Gala, of course. Considered one of the most prestigious fashion events in the world, the Met Gala brings together celebrities, designers, and influential figures from various industries.

You fit into one of those roles, including that of your girlfriend, Jenna Ortega. Attending the Met Gala would not only be a thrilling experience for you, but it would also be a testament to Jenna Ortega's rising status in the entertainment industry. You both walk the red carpet, cameras flash, and journalists clamor to capture your stylish outfits and get a glimpse of your relationship, solidifying your place among the elite attendees of this iconic event.

Jenna's elegant gown turns heads, while your dapper suit perfectly complements her style. The excitement in the air is palpable as you step onto the red carpet, ready to immerse yourselves in an evening filled with glamour and unforgettable moments.

You smile at your girlfriend, admiring her confidence as she gracefully poses for the cameras. She was so damn beautiful. From her sparkling eyes to her radiant smile, Jenna exudes a magnetic charm that captivates everyone around her. As you walk hand in hand, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and gratitude for having such an incredible partner by your side. The night is young, and together, you're ready to create memories that will last a lifetime.

You both enter the grand ballroom, greeted by the sound of music and the sight of dazzling decorations. The atmosphere is electric, filled with a buzz of excitement and anticipation. As you make your way through the crowd, you can't help but notice the admiring glances directed towards Jenna. She effortlessly commands attention, her presence lighting up the room. With every step, you feel like you're living in a dream, surrounded by glamour and unforgettable moments.

"I'll be back, baby. I'm going to go say hi to Olivia and Conan," Jenna says, leaning into your ear so you can hear her over the music. You lean down, catching a whiff of her intoxicating perfume, and nod in agreement.

Is that...a cat suit? You think to yourself, watching as it walks past you. As they do so, they take off the top of it, revealing it to be Jared Lato. You can't help but do a double-take, your eyes widening in shock. "What is going on, man?" You mutter to yourself, trying to make sense of the unexpected sight.

Jenna is back, greeting you with a smile before placing her hand on your chest. "I wanna kiss you so badly," she admits, her gaze staring deep into your eyes. You feel your heartbeat increase along with your smile. "Really?"

She hums, moving her hand to the right side of your cheek, and leaning in closer, her lips just inches away from yours. "Then kiss me." You whisper.

You both jump away at the sudden voice, "Y/N!"

You turn around to see your co-star, Sarah, standing there with an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry to interrupt your moment," she says, "but everyone is looking for you for a photo." You can't help but laugh at the timing of her arrival, though Jenna finds this situation unhumorous.

Jenna's face tightens with frustration as she glances at Sarah, clearly annoyed by the interruption. You quickly compose yourself and assure Sarah that you'll be right there for the photo. "I'll be back, babe. Promise." You press a kiss on her cheek before walking away with Sarah. You can't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Jenna behind. You make a mental note to make it up to her later and hope that she understands the demands of the industry.

Sarah was your love interest in your new movie, and the two of you had been spending a lot of time together on set. Despite the "chemistry"between you and Sarah, you would always be loyal to Jenna, your long-time girlfriend. She was truly the love of your life, and you didn't want anyone but her.

Given that you'd have to remind Sarah at times that the romance was just through your character, not in real life, she didn't like to take hints, always trying to blur the lines between fiction and reality. It became increasingly challenging to maintain a professional boundary with Sarah, as she constantly sought opportunities to deepen your connection off-screen.

She'd enjoy the fact that your fans would ship her more than you and Jenna, always mentioning your "chemistry off set" in an interview when it couldn't be further from the truth. Regardless of your efforts to maintain a platonic relationship, Sarah's persistent attempts to intertwine fiction and reality made it difficult to navigate the boundaries of professionalism.

You didn't want to freak out on her due to the fact that you have seven more long months of working together on this project. So, you tried your best to put on fake smiles and ignore her delusions.

"We look so cute!" Sarah says, pointing at the two of you in the cast photo. Well, all the cast members that were invited to the Met Gala. You chuckle awkwardly, trying to downplay the comment. "Yeah, it's a nice picture," you respond nonchalantly, hoping to divert the conversation away from her fantasies.

"I should get back to my girlfriend," you say, subtly hinting that you have other commitments and responsibilities outside of work. Sarah nods understandingly, but you can tell she's disappointed. "Okay...will you be at the afterparty?"

You hesitate for a moment, considering your options. "I'm not sure yet," you reply, keeping your plans vague. "I'll have to see how the night goes." Sarah's face lights up with anticipation, but you quickly walk away, not wanting to give her false hope.

Jenna was upset. That much was obvious. But what did you do exactly? You rack your brain, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that may have caused Jenna's upset. You replay the events of the evening in your mind, searching for any potential missteps or misunderstandings.

You shake your head, leaving the booth of the club where the Met Gala was hosting the afterparty. You walk to the bar, ordering a stiff drink to help clear your thoughts. You don't notice Jenna is sipping on her own drink, watching you at the bar from the booth.

"Hey, stranger." Sarah says. She places a hand on your bicep, squeezing it. You were about to yell at the girl, but you realize she's obviously drunk. Her words slur together as she tries to maintain her balance. You take a deep breath, deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt and offer her a helping hand instead. "Where's Sadie?"

"Ion know?" Sarah laughs, placing her drink down on the bar. "She was...I don't know." You let out a sigh, placing a hand on Sarah's waist to stop her from fumbling over herself. As you steady Sarah, you can't help but wonder if Sadie is also somewhere in the same state.

"I like you, Y/N...so much. What does Jenna have that I don't?" You look into Sarah's eyes, appreciating her honesty but feeling a twitch of sadness for the girl. "Sarah, it's not about what Jenna has or doesn't have. It's about the connection we share and the moments we've built together." As you speak, you can't help but hope that Sarah understands the depth of your feelings for her.

"Please, just one...one time." Her hand reaches for your cheek, but a sharp voice halts her movements. "Y/N, we're leaving. Now." Jenna. Jenna clenches her jaw, trying her best to stay professional and calm in front of everyone.

"Jenna—" You were about to explain Sarah's state, but the sharp look she sends you makes you shut up immediately. Jenna's stern expression leaves you no choice but to comply with her demand. You walk out of the afterparty, following behind Jenna and Enrique like a lost puppy.

As the three of you sit in the black SUV, you take out your phone to send a quick text to Sadie, asking her to find Sarah before anything bad happens. You also text Sarah, letting her know that you had to leave abruptly and apologizing for not being able to explain the situation. You hope that when she wakes up she'll appreciate it, forgetting the embarrassing moment that happened not too long ago.

Jenna watches your fingers type out a message with her eyes like a hawk. She leans in closer, curiosity evident on her face. Enrique continues to talk about the outfits he saw at the Met Gala, not noticing Jenna's growing interest in your conversation with Sarah.

Jenna finally interrupts Enrique, "Who are you texting?" she asks, her voice laced with suspicion. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not to share the details with Jenna. "Uh, just... a friend," you reply vaguely, not wanting to delve into the specifics.

Jenna's eyebrows furrow, sensing your evasiveness. "Just a friend? Why are you being so secretive?" she presses, her suspicion growing stronger. You offer a reassuring smile, hoping to alleviate her concerns. "It's nothing serious, just a personal matter that I need to handle privately," you explain gently, hoping she understands and respects your boundaries.

You watch her eyebrows twitch up. As if her name is Barry Allen, she quickly snatches your phone from your hand, eager to uncover any hidden messages or clues. Her actions catch you off guard, and you feel a surprised and frustrated.

"Jenna, please respect my privacy," you say firmly, trying to retrieve your phone from her grasp. However, she seems determined to find answers and continues scrolling through your messages, making you realize the need for a more assertive approach to setting boundaries with her.

You take a deep breath, realizing that Jenna's curiosity has crossed a line. With a stern voice, you firmly declare, "Jenna, I understand your curiosity, but invading my privacy is not acceptable." Jenna looks up, and you can see a hint of regret in her eyes as she hands back your phone.

You turn your phone face down, looking out the window, not bothering to talk to her or her stylist. Enrique's eyes widen, sensing the tension between the two of you. He decides it's best if he stays silent, distracting himself with his phone.

When you arrive at your hotel room, you take a deep breath, not wanting anything more than to shower and go straight to bed. The long day has taken a toll on you, along with the tense atmosphere between you and your girlfriend.

You start taking off your belt buckle, struggling to undo the stubborn clasp. Frustration builds as you realize how exhausted you truly are, causing your hands to tremble slightly. You decide to move to your blazer instead, hoping that removing a layer of clothing will provide some relief.

As you unbutton the blazer, Jenna begins to speak. "Baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Her voice is filled with sincerity, but you can still sense the lingering tension. You pause for a moment, contemplating her words, before responding with a tired sigh, "I appreciate your apology, Jenna. We can talk about it tomorrow when we're both less exhausted."

She frowns while walking toward you, "Please. I got jealous, okay? It's annoying to see everyone else flirting with you all the time. I know it's not your fault, but it still gets to me sometimes." You nod understandingly, realizing that her jealousy stems from her own insecurities. "I understand where you're coming from, Jenna. But you know more than anyone that I am committed to you and our relationship."

You begin unbuttoning your black button-up, revealing your black tank to. The sight of your exposed tank top brings a small smile to Jenna's face. "I appreciate that , and I trust you completely," she says softly. "Sometimes, I just need a reminder that we're in this together."

Your hands go back to your belt, still unable to take it off. "Let me make it up to you, Y/N." You hum in response, your attention on your belt. Jenna's hands replace yours, undoing your belt with ease. As she removes your belt, her touch sends a shiver down your spine. "I want to show you how much you mean to me," she whispers, her voice filled with genuine love.

Before you can ask how, her fingers tug at your zipper, slowly pulling it down. The anticipation builds as she leans in closer, her warm breath grazing your ear. "But I also want you to remember you're all mine, okay, love?," she murmurs, pressing a kiss on your ear.

You feel a rush of desire as her words sink in, and your pants feel tighter against your skin. The intensity of her touch and the passion in her voice leave you craving more. With each moment that passes, you become more aware of the depth of her love for you and the power she holds over your heart.

Jenna sinks to her knees, her eyes locked with yours, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She slowly trails her fingers up your thighs, sending waves down your spine. You can't help but give in to the alluring spell she has cast over you as the lust grows.

She pulls your pants down along with your boxers, revealing your desire, eager and ready for her touch. Her hands wrap around your cock, her touch firm yet gentle, as she begins to stroke you with expert precision. The intensity of her gaze never wavers, fueling the fire of desire that courses through your veins.

You bite your lip, your knees buckling as she adds her tongue to the mix, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body. Every touch, every stroke, and every flick of her tongue only intensifies the desire that consumes you, making it impossible to resist her seductive power.

"Do you think I'll be able to fit it all in my mouth this time?" Her voice drips with a tantalizing mixture of confidence and mischief, heightening the anticipation that hangs heavy in the air. As she teasingly locks eyes with you, a mischievous smile dances across her lips, leaving you breathless with anticipation for what is to come.

The room feels charged with electricity as you watch her slowly take you in, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. Your heart races, your breath becomes shallow, and you can feel the pulsating ache of desire growing within you. Her head begins to bop, trying her best to take in every inch, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your hand flies to her hair, gripping it gently as you guide her movements, the sensation of her warm mouth sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Fuck, Jenna...take it."

The heat of the moment builds, and you find yourself lost in the raw connection between you, unable to tear your gaze away from her captivating eyes. As her lips continue to glide up and down your length, you feel the tension building within you, the pleasure mounting with every gentle suck and flick of her tongue.

The feeling of her soft lips against your skin is electric, each stroke of her mouth pushing you closer to the edge. In that moment, nothing else matters but the two of you, lost in an intimate dance of desire and passion.

"I'm so close, Jen. Shiiit..." You rasp out, throwing your head back, before quickly locking eyes with your girlfriend. She increases her pace, matching your intensity as she continues to pleasure you. All that's heard in the room are the sounds of your combined moans, heightening the intensity of the moment.

As the pleasure intensifies, you feel your body trembling, teetering on the brink of release. You start moving your hips, fucking her throat, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your veins. "I'm cumming!" you groan, exploding in your girlfriend's mouth. She eagerly swallows every drop, her eyes locked with yours as she savors the taste.

"Do you forgive me for tonight?" You tiredly nod at her words. "You're forgiven," you manage to whisper, still catching your breath. She gently wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

- YOU'RE MINE

Cairo Sweet x (g!p) reader  (request)

“You were Cairo's new obsession, and even if you didn't know it, you were already hers” 

Genre – smut    Warnings –  daddy kink, reader is three years older than cairo  MDI

Now playing – MUSTANG BABY, by Nessa Barrett Ft. ARTEMAS 

You were never very attached to material things, the moments you kept in your mind being much more important than any material possession you might own. That said, it wasn't too difficult for you to get rid of most of your things in order to move to a quieter place.  

Moving from New York to the suburbs of Tennessee was a rather drastic change for you, but after your grandmother passed away, you thought it was the best decision you could make right now. You never had cousins, your mother was an only child and you had no siblings, and as much as your mother was out there somewhere on the globe, it still came as a surprise when you received a call saying that your grandmother had left her old house to you in her will.   

Your family had always been cold, never showing much love, and you knew that part of it was because they were such a stingy family, and all they cared about was money. But with your grandmother, things were always different. Your grandma was the only person in that family who made you feel loved, and even though you grew up a bit away from her, you always seemed to be connected, and you loved that feeling.   

Getting out of your truck, you looked around, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't a housing estate either. At one point it was quiet, but if you looked a little closer it seemed almost weird. You could see a house right in front of your grandmother's old house, but it was the only one. You wondered if anyone lived there, your grandmother had never complained about neighbors, so you hoped you wouldn't have a problem with that either.   

The barking of Robin, your dog, brought you back to the real world, you smiled at him, stroking his ears, before taking one of the boxes out of the back of your truck. You used to have a room to yourself in your grandmother's house, and you knew it was still intact, and since this move wasn't final, you thought the usual small room might be more than enough for you.   

Holding the box with your left arm, you took the door keys out of your pocket, hearing Robin's bark echoing through the trees. Looking back, you saw him chasing a butterfly. Laughing, you shook your hair slightly, hoping that the neighbors next door wouldn't mind your dog's antics.  

 Your grandmother's old television was still working fine, and the sofa was very comfortable for the amount of time it was supposed to be used, but everything worked very well. You wouldn't say you were adapted to everything, but you certainly weren't uncomfortable with the idea of spending a few months here. The night had fallen nicely, the breeze was a bit chilly, but the heaters did a good job of warming you up, everything there had a lot of potential. You knew you'd have a lot of work to do, starting tomorrow, but you were happy to put a bit of manual work on your agenda and renovate your grandmother's old house.   

With a sigh, you got up from the sofa, snapping your back and picking up the empty beer bottle from the coffee table. The moment you stood up, Robin's ears mirrored your movement, the dog paying close attention to your next move, and if you said the right words, he'd get up in a hurry.   

“All right buddy, do you want to go outside for a bit before you go to bed?” Bingo.   

Rising in a leap, the dog hurried to the front door, waiting for you to open it so he could relieve himself before getting a very good night's sleep.   

“All right, don't go too far.” You said, causing the dog to lunge when you opened the door.   

Leaning against the doorframe, you took a closer look at your surroundings, the night painting the trees a darker shade, and you've watched enough horror movies to know that it shouldn't be 100% safe. It could just be your head playing tricks on you, but you could swear you felt eyes watching your every move. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, you leaned a little further out of the house, ready to send Robin in.   

“ROBIN, COME ON BOY!” You shouted, expecting him to come to you as he always did.  

Your answer was only the swaying of the trees, and as much as you knew that your dog was always distracted by sticks, you also knew that he never neglected your call.  

“ROBIN, HERE!” You shouted again, still without an answer.   

Ready to go after the dog, you grabbed your house keys, closing the door and preparing to go down the stairs in front of the small porch, but something in the darkness made you freeze for a minute. A small being moved among the bushes and trees, and you could only wonder who was walking through the forest so late at night.   

The relief you felt when you saw Robin next to the shadow was fleeting, you were happy to see the dog, but who the hell was that creature?  

“Can I help you?” You asked, discreetly signaling to Robin, causing the dog to come running to your side.   

“You must be the new neighbor...”   

Coming out of the shadows, the figure you demonized so much was actually a girl, not a child, more like a teenager? Maybe a young woman? She looked small, certainly much shorter and a little younger than you. Her hair was beautiful and cascaded over her shoulders, and even though she wasn't that close to you, you could still notice the mesmerizing eyes she had. What was she doing alone in the middle of the woods?   

“I'm Cairo, Cairo Sweet.” The woman said, coming closer and positioning herself comfortably on the railing of the porch steps, just four steps from where you were standing. “I live here in front.”   

Sighing, you felt all the tension disappear from your shoulders, she was just your neighbor, she wasn't going to hurt you.   

“Sorry, it's just that you scared me a bit.” You said, laughing slightly, making Cairo mirror your actions. “I'm Yn.”  

“It's nice to meet you, Yn. I saw a new car arriving yesterday and I was curious.” Cairo said, the way she looked at you made you feel strange, it was almost as if she wanted to see through you. “And then I saw this little guy while I was out here and I connected the dots.”   

“It was a last-minute decision, my grandmother lived here.” You said, trying not to give away too many details about this teenager you'd just met.   

“I saw her on the porch sometimes, but she was very private. I'm sorry about what happened.” Cairo said, climbing a step closer to you, her right hand slowly climbing the railing, her head tilted to the left. All you wanted to know was why she was looking at you like that?   

“It's okay, I have good memories of her.” You said, discreetly swaying your body as you tried to regain that same distance between you and Cairo.   

“So, you're in high school?” Her eyes could really hypnotize someone, they were the most beautiful shade of brown you'd ever seen.  

“College.”   

“You look like a mathematician.”   

“Music.”   

“I should know, you musicians are all beautiful.” Cairo said with a smile on her face, which I'm sure she tried to hide by turning her head away.  

Looking towards her house, Cairo descended the step she had climbed, taking one last look at you.  

“Good night, music girl.” 

Unable to say a word, you just waved, making Cairo laugh - probably at your weirdness - and turn around again before disappearing into the mansion where she lived.   

“Why the hell did I talk so much?” You asked, looking at Robin.  

I mean, you didn't want to talk about your college, you didn't even want her to come up the steps of your house. She was beautiful, her eyes were beautiful, she asked if you were at school? How old is that girl? You certainly said more than you should have. 

The sun seemed to be hotter than ever, making a layer of sweat cover your body, it was almost as if the water you drank had no effect on cooling you down. Putting the hammer down and picking up the saw, you cut out the piece of wood you would use to replace the old furniture, taking care not to get the measurements wrong.   

“I didn't know musicians also took carpentry classes at college.”  

The startle of a new voice in the quiet surroundings made you jump, sending a shiver through your body hair as you almost let the saw slip through your fingers. Turning around, you saw Cairo standing in front of the stairs, sunglasses covering her pretty eyes, the girl was wearing a denim jacket with a white blouse underneath, her skirt went down to her mid-thighs, while a pair of socks hugged the rest of her legs.   

“Do you always walk in quietly?” You asked, examining your hand to make sure everything was in place.   

Laughing at your question, Cairo repeated the movement she made last night, climbing a step and tilting her head to look at what you were doing. You couldn't see the look on her face, but if you could see through the glasses, you might be uncomfortable.   

At first, Cairo even looked at all the tools lying around, but that led her to look at your hands, which were dirty and had some veins protruding from them. The veins ran up your arms, which were bare, as you were wearing a white T-shirt. Cairo continued to look up, checking out your muscles, seeing how your biceps showed when you made the slightest effort, and how your shoulders were tense, perhaps still from the fright.   

“It's a very good skill.” Cairo said, smiling at you. That smile made it seem as if you didn't know many things, as if you were a layman, as if she knew something that you would never, not in a million years.   

“So, you were in the woods again?” You asked, hoping Cairo wouldn't notice the sarcastic tone you used.   

“Actually, I have to go to class.”   

 “College?” You asked, taking the hammer from the toolbox.   

“Senior year of high school.” Cairo said, putting his right foot on the second step.   

“Holy shit! How old are you? Seventeen?” You asked, a playful tone in your speech. If you had been more attentive, you would have seen Cairo take her foot off the second step.   

“Eighteen.”   

Cairo's serious tone caught your attention, making you turn your body completely towards her.  

“Got it.”   

“How old are you?” Cairo crossed her arms as she climbed - now with both feet - onto the second step, it was almost as if she was daring you to say your age.   

“Twenty-one.”   

Giving you a smile, Cairo looked at you over her glasses, giving you a glimpse of that look that had stuck in your mind.   

“Bye, Yn.”   

Watching the girl disappear into the forest, you became more intrigued. Why was this girl so enigmatic to you? What did she mean by all those questions? With all her cool-girl looks? She's just a teenager, maybe a young woman?   

Why was she able to get into your head so much? 

It had been almost a week since you and Cairo had last spoken, your schedules didn't seem to match up and you were always too busy renovating the house. You hadn't seen Cairo since that day, but Cairo couldn't say the same about you.  

Sitting at the window, the brown-haired girl watched you, she had just seen you arrive with new things in the back of your truck, T-shirt and jeans dirty from the heavy work you did alone. Cairo already knew that your next steps would be straight to the bathroom. It was as if she already knew your whole routine, it was as if she was slowly getting into your routine, but still too far away to share her knowledge with you.  

The Sweet girl's body warmed up, watching you take your shirt off, unbuckle your old belt and pull down your pants in one swift movement. The muscles in the right places, your breasts trapped in the bra, the way your boxer shorts fit perfectly to your body, the way she could see the outline of your cock, your round ass held up by the fabric, your thick legs, everything made Cairo want to jump out of the window and fall on top of you.    

Desire and libido surged through the girl's body faster than the speed of light, sending heat to the middle of the Sweet girl's legs, who watched your every move as you rubbed your thighs together. Unfortunately for Cairo, you went into the bathroom before taking off all your clothes, but that didn't stop the girl from imagining whatever she wanted with you.   

“Baby, are you coming to join me?” Your voice echoed off the walls of her mind, the noise of the shower loud in her ears, and Cairo could swear she could smell the soap. 

“I was waiting for you to ask me.”   

Walking to the bathroom, Cairo leaned against the doorframe, admiring your silhouette through the blurry shower. Taking off her clothes piece by piece without wasting any time, the brunette approached the glass, opening the door and finding herself facing your back.   

Moving closer to you, Cairo began distributing kisses under your shoulder blades, her hands running from your breasts down your abdomen and reaching what she so desperately wanted. You moaned as Cairo's hands reached your cock, the sensation of her movements making you slightly dizzy. 

Cairo's eyes watched you, her head tilted slightly to the right, allowing her to see a little of your side profile. Accelerating the movement of her hand, Cairo saw you throw your head forward, resting it against the bathroom tiles. The moan you let out sent a shiver through Cairo's body, she loved that you had that reaction to her touch, that only she could make you feel that way, that only she had you in her hands, that only she had you. 

Cairo had learned all about your behavior, how your body reacted to everything, and she could tell with conviction how close to cumming you were. You kept one hand on the wall in front of you, while the other rested comfortably around Cairo's wrist. Your moans echoed off the bathroom walls, the brunette behind you could feel your cock throbbing in her hand.   

The sound of your car driving off made Cairo open her eyes, quickly removing her hand from between her legs and looking out of the window at your car, which was now driving off down the dirt road.   

Sighing, Cairo got up from her window seat and walked over to the bed before throwing herself down. It wasn't the first time Cairo had had such thoughts about you, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. But she was even more certain that the “waking dream” she had been having would come true. You were hers, and even if you couldn't see it, she would make you see it.   

The doorbell rang throughout the large house. Outside, Cairo waited patiently for you to answer it. The girl had two cups of coffee with her and she was hoping to spend some time with you, ready to put her plan into action by moving up another stage with you.   

Unfortunately for Cairo, she didn't recognize who opened the door. She certainly didn't recognize the blonde hair, or the delicate hands that gripped the handle, or the blue eyes, or the short stature. Who was that woman?  

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Her hair was slightly messy, she looked like she'd just woken up and she was wearing a shirt that was clearly too big for her.   

Cairo could count, and she definitely knew that 2 + 2 = 4.  

“Is Yn here?”   

“She's kind of busy right now...”   

“I bet she is...” Cairo said, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the air as she analyzed the woman in front of her.   

“Do you want me to say something to her?” The blonde asked. Her voice made Cairo want to vomit.  

“No.”   

Descending the steps, Cairo disappeared into the woods, leaving the slightly confused woman at the door. Cairo didn't care, she didn't even look back, whatever this woman was doing to you had to end now. Immediately! 

Sitting on the front steps, you sipped your beer while watching the sunset. With no plans for today, you had decided to just relax while you let Robin run wild. Things had been quiet since you'd moved in, it was almost a month and if you'd known how quiet the small town was, you would have moved in sooner.  

Hearing footsteps in the silence, you saw Cairo approaching, the girl coming out of the vast woods, as always, walking slowly along the strange paths she made a point of following. It had been a while since you'd seen the girl, you'd never met, unlike before when she'd practically come to your door. It was almost as if she was avoiding you, but why would she do that?  

“Do you always choose the strangest paths?” You asked, looking at the girl before taking another sip of your beer.   

“I like walking through the woods, it's exciting.” Cairo replied, approaching you with a slight smile on her face. She seemed happy to see you, or maybe she was just having a good day.   

“You've been kind of missing, haven't you?” Cairo approached the steps.  

“Why? Did you miss me?” A teasing smile appeared on her face as she climbed the first step.   

“I just thought it was strange that you'd disappeared. Anne had told me that a girl knocked on the door the other day, and I knew it was you.” You said, your head tilting slightly upwards to look into Cairo's eyes.   

“Anne? So that's her name?” Cairo asked, climbing the second step and taking the small backpack she was carrying off her back.   

“Annlynn. I met her at the market, she's a nice girl.” You said, taking another sip of your beer while trying to hide your smile as you spoke of the blonde girl. “Very bossy at times, but nice.”   

“Are you two dating?” Cairo asked, climbing the third step as she grabbed the beer from your hand and took a long sip.   

“Hey! You can't drink.” You said, trying to take your beer from her hand, only to receive a slap on the hand and a giggle from Cairo.   

“Don't be a party pooper. I bet you drank when you were a teenager.” Cairo said, finally reaching the fourth step and sitting down next to you.   

“No, I didn't.” You said, looking at Cairo who was staring at you as if he doubted what you had just said.   

You stared back at her, trying to be as serious as possible while the girl tried to get the truth out of you with her eyes. Those beautiful eyes.  

Faced with that situation, you found yourself laughing, making Cairo join you. It was obvious that it was a lie, but there was something about sharing it with Cairo that made you feel lighter, something you couldn't quite identify.  

“Okay, fine, maybe I drank once or twice when I was a teenager.” Laughing, Cairo bumped you with her elbow.  

“I knew it, I know you're not a saint.”   

Smiling at her, you nodded, looking towards the trees as you thought about how troubled your adolescence had been. “No one is a saint. And anyone who says they are is certainly lying.”   

Feeling Cairo look deeply at your profile, you turned your head towards the girl. Her eyes looked at you as if they could see into your soul, deep and questioning, it was as if she wanted to know everything you were thinking.  

“You have a beautiful head.” The silence of the night began to echo louder, as the sun gave way to the moon, which grew larger and larger.   

“No one has ever said that to me.” You answered jokingly, but Cairo's eyes quickly told her you were serious.   

“You don't have to do that all the time. It was a real compliment, I like how your mind works.”  

You were never very good at receiving compliments, your family was never very good at giving compliments. But you tried to cover it up most of the time. But with Cairo, it didn't work, she seemed to know you more than you knew yourself, she seemed to have the power to read your mind. Maybe she had opened your brain while you were asleep and sewn it back together before you woke up, because that was the only explanation for her being able to get so far into your head.  

“You're a smart girl, Cairo.” You say, making the girl come closer to you, your thighs touching, and as sudden as the closeness was, you didn't want to move away, you didn't move away.   

“Is that how you see me? As a girl?” Looking straight into your eyes, Cairo hypnotized you. She had managed to leave you speechless with a simple question. And as much as you thought the answer was also simple, your mind was screaming questions and the different meanings that question could have.  

“How should I see you?” Your faces were close together, Cairo's eyes seemed to scrutinize every feature of your face, while you did the same with hers. The silence was no longer so reassuring, in fact, now the silence reminded you that it was just you and Cairo there, no one else was around and that gave you a strange feeling in your chest.  

“You'll find out.” With a smile, Cairo took another sip of your beer, handing the empty bottle back to you as she got up and started walking to her house.   

With a sigh, you looked at the empty bottle, succumbing to the urge to put your lips to the bottleneck just to seal what Cairo had already sealed. “Good night.”  

Without looking back, Cairo continued walking. And as much as you didn't want to, all you could do was notice how her ass looked in that black dress. “Dream with me, Cowboy.”   

“Cowboy?” you questioned.   

Looking back for the first time, Cairo smiled. You hated that irritatingly beautiful smile, it was as if she knew something you didn't yet know, but that she was dying to tell you.   

“Like I said, you'll find out.” 

Things seemed to be going well for you, you and Anne were still trying to do something – which neither of you classified as a relationship – legal, the house was getting more beautiful every day, and your friendship with Cairo seemed to blossom a little more every day.  

Cairo intrigued you, how smart she was, how she could make you open up effortlessly, how she had much more emotional intelligence than many adults you've ever met. Sometimes you would even joke, asking her if she had ever managed to manipulate a bearded adult, she never answered, only casting a look that pierced your soul. 

The nights went by faster now, and the days were nicer. With all your routine, you still found time to talk to Cairo about random things, and even though she was almost always quite cryptic, you enjoyed the time you spent together. You'd never admit it out loud, but at times you found yourself genuinely attracted to Cairo, fooled by all the beautiful and mysterious words that came out of her mouth.  

Every night was surprising, and it was never different. Just like every other night, you heard the doorbell ringing through the walls of the large, newly refurbished house. Getting up from the armchair in the living room, you shouted that you were coming, opening the door immediately only to see Cairo standing there in a white dress.  

“I didn't see Robin running through the trees, so I decided to check if everything was all right.” Cairo said as soon as the door opened. You still didn't know what it was, but there was certainly something different about the look in her eyes.   

Scratching the back of your neck, you looked into the house, making Cairo follow your gaze, only for her to see the dog lying on the carpet near the stairs leading upstairs. “I took him into town today, he's pretty tired.”   

“So that means you're not going out either?” Cairo asked, her gaze almost begging you to give her some of your attention.   

You and Cairo used to talk casually in front of the door, sitting on the fourth step from the front of the house. You had never invited Cairo in, but Cairo had invited you to her house, which you refused because you always had something to do.   

“No, I'm sorry.” Ready to convince you, Cairo didn't have time to open her mouth, your voice spoke over it. “But you can come in if you want.”  

Cairo's eyes sparkled, almost as if she were a child in a candy store. Unable to contain the smile that escaped, Cairo nodded positively, making you step aside, giving her the space to enter.  

Your house was beautiful, cozy, Cairo looked at every detail as if she were in love. She didn't know what your grandmother's house had looked like before, but she knew you had done a good job. The large bookcase in the living room was definitely what caught the Sweet girl's eye, and in that minute she thought about what it would be like if she lived there with you.   

Waking up every morning next to you, wrapped up in you, the sheets falling to her hips, exposing her naked body from the previous night's activities. Her waking up to your kisses on her neck and your hands massaging her breasts, making her moan sleepily. Your mouth between her legs would be your breakfast, and then after she'd finished, she'd go to the kitchen to prepare coffee for you so you could fuck her while she tried not to burn the pancakes.   

She imagines herself complaining to you about the noise you're making putting together the crib for your baby while she's trying to write the sequel to the book she'd released before she got pregnant. It was perfect.   

“Cairo!” You called out, rousing the girl from the trance she had fallen into. “ Is everything all right in there? I've been calling you for a few minutes.” You said, walking into the kitchen, Cairo sitting on the sofa. 

“Yes, I'm just admiring the books, sorry.” Cairo said, seeing you come back with two glasses of wine in your hands.  

“Oh, that's fine. Some of them were my grandmother's, others I brought with me.” You said, sitting down next to her and handing the glass of wine to the brunette.   

Taking a sip of the wine, Cairo groaned at the taste, having never tasted anything so good. “Wow, this is good.”  

“Really? I don't know much about wine. Anne gave me the bottle last time she was here.”  

Despite not wanting to hear Anne's name, Cairo took your comment in stride, at least it was her you were drinking that expensive wine with, and not that dumb blonde.   

“Does she still come here?” Cairo knew the answer, she saw you and Anne through the window constantly, having to put up with every moan the blonde let out just so she could watch you fuck her.   

“Sometimes, I mean, she's nice.” You reply, taking a sip of your wine.  

“I bet she is.” Cairo says, using a sarcastic tone that passes you by. “I bet you have some very interesting conversations with her.” Bringing the glass up to her lips, Cairo looks at you over the glass object.   

“Talking isn't on the list of things we do...” You say embarrassedly, Cairo could tell how embarrassed you were to talk about the blonde. “I try, but she never wants to spend more time than necessary, if you know what I mean.”   

Looking at you, Cairo tilts her head to the left, making you look into her eyes. You didn't understand how, but every time she did this you got a little lost, her eyes were a window that pulled you out of your zone, every time.  

“Maybe she's not the right girl for you.” Cairo says, her eyes were mesmerizing, and still conveyed that same enigmatic sparkle as when she first appeared on your doorstep. “Maybe you're looking in the wrong place.”   

But there was something else, her eyes shone in a bigger way today, almost as if her pupils were all her eyes had. Leaving the cup on the table, Cairo moved closer to you on the sofa, taking your hand in hers.  

“Don't you think someone else might be waiting for you, Yn?”  

You couldn't answer, completely mesmerized by the way Cairo spoke, how she moved, how the tone of her voice danced in your ears. Was it the beer? The wine you're drinking, why did Cairo's mouth look so beautiful from your view?  

It was always like that with Cairo, everything was an enigma, a mystery, the way she spoke, the way she walked, her touch, and the way your mouth was simply stuck to hers now, everything was a mystery.   

Cairo was a witch, that's what your mind was screaming, because that was the only explanation why your mouth was now on the Sweet girl's. Your lips were moving in sync with hers, her hands were tangled in your hair, her perfume was making you dizzy, and it felt like you were falling off an abyss. And as soon as you landed on the ground, you pulled away.   

“Cairo, I... I'm sorry-”   

Cut off by Cairo's lips, you quickly let yourself go. The Sweet girl climbed on top of you, her thighs on either side of your body, pinning you to the sofa, while your hands timidly ran around her waist. Taking your hands in hers, Cairo guided them to her ass, your brain sending information to the rest of your body.   

Your hands squeezed Cairo's ass, the younger girl moaning and rolling her hips on top of you. Your cock starting to show signs of life, making you remember to think a little with your head up.   

“Cairo... we can't...” You tried to speak between gasps, as Cairo's mouth continued to do a great job on your neck. “You're too young.”   

Cairo's kisses went down to your neck, and you tried to push the girl off you only to hear a sneer come out of her mouth “Don't be stupid Yn. I'm old enough to say what I want and don't want to do. And I want you!”   

Kissing your neck, Cairo slipped her hands under the fabric of your shirt, grabbing the hem and pulling the garment off your body. With a smile, Cairo observed your muscles, getting even happier when she realized you weren't wearing a bra.   

“God, it was almost as if you were prepared for this.” Cairo said, attacking your lips without even giving you a chance to say anything.   

Your mind was screaming no, but your body was screaming yes. You were lost, you were three years older than Cairo, and for a moment it didn't seem right. But when you remembered all the deep conversations, the looks you exchanged, the smiles, the legs touching, all the intimacy, you couldn't resist.  

“I've been waiting for this for so long...” Cairo said, trailing kisses down your collarbone and down to your breasts.   

“You have?” The sensation of her kisses around your nipple was wonderful, almost as if you were in heaven.   

Letting out a moan when Cairo put your nipple in her mouth, you threw your head back, holding onto the brunette's hair so she could get on with the job.  

“Ever since I first saw you, Yn. I want you, no matter how old you are, it's only three years.” Cairo said, looking at you before starting to unbutton the buttons of your pants. “Nobody's a saint, right?!”   

Shaking your head negatively, you moaned as Cairo's hand began to make light movements on your cock over the fabric of your boxers. “Then let me make you feel good, daddy.”   

Your pupils dilated, Cairo's words piercing your eardrums like a heavy rock song. Your hands quickly reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it off her body in one swift movement. Cairo's breasts were free of any bra, just as she had found yours, and her warm skin in your hands made you feel that it was all right.  

“God, you're so hot.” You said, running your hands over Cairo's breasts before putting the right nipple in your mouth.  

Feeling the hairs on her body stand on end, Cairo pushed your head closer to her body, moaning loudly and rolling on top of you. “Let me ride you, baby.” Nodding your head, you gently placed Cairo on the sofa, reaching up and pulling your pants and boxers off your body.   

Cairo looked at you with hunger in her eyes, calling you with her finger, the girl made you kneel in front of her, grabbing your head and combing through your strands of hair. “Take it off for me, daddy.”   

With unregulated breathing, you pulled Cairo's panties down her legs, kissing the girl's thighs as she smiled at you. Now that smile made sense to you, now everything she hid beneath that smile was brought to light. You could finally look at Cairo more intimately, in every sense of the word.   

Taking your chin in her hand, Cairo pulled you into a lustful kiss, full of intentions and directions of where this night would end up. “Let me ride you, Cowboy.”   

 Winking at you, Cairo smiled, tilting her head and motioning for you to sit on the sofa again. You obeyed her as if Cairo's word was a law that couldn't be broken.  

 “Wait, I have to get a condom.” You said, trying to get up, only to be pushed by Cairo back to where you were.   

“I trust you, daddy.” Cairo said, as she put one leg on either side of your body. “In fact, it's not like you're going to want anyone else after this.”   

Guiding your cock into her pussy, Cairo relaxed her body onto you. You both moaned as your bodies fit together, feeling as if you were made for it. You had never felt so good with any other girl, and Cairo didn't even think about past experiences, she knew you were made for each other.   

Starting to move up and down quickly, Cairo grabbed your hair, making you look into the same mesmerizing eyes you've been looking into since you moved in. The way her hips rock on top of you is taking you to a completely new state, the sensation is completely magnificent, and you swear you've never felt like this before.  

“Do you like fucking your little girl, daddy?” Cairo asked, stopping her movements on top of you when you didn't answer. “Admit it, daddy...”  

Your head was screaming danger, maybe this was her way of getting what she'd always wanted, you, completely for herself. “I love fucking you, babygirl.”  

Fuck it. 

Giving you a genuine smile, Cairo resumed her hip thrusts, increasing the speed as she began to feel close to cumming. “Fuck, daddy. Are you feeling it too?” Shaking your head, you agreed with Cairo, your hands going down to her ass and impaling her even more on your cock.   

“Keep going, baby. Please.” Listening to your begging, Cairo continued rolling and bouncing on your lap, the orgasms of the two of you getting closer.  

Your hands fit perfectly on Cairo's curves, but now they were shaking, announcing how close you were to getting your jollies. Cairo was trapped in her own world, not even listening when you announced that you were close.   

With her eyes closed, the girl continued to roll her hips wonderfully on top of you. Her moans were getting louder and louder, just like yours, and you could feel exactly when she finally came. Her inner walls tightening around your cock, making you unable to hold back any longer.   

“Cairo, I'm going to...” Even though you tried, you couldn't get the girl off you. Feeling the jets of your hot seed gushing inside her was like heaven for Cairo, it was as if she had finally won the prize she had been chasing for so long. Happiness hung over her face, and the smile on her face would stay there for days to come. 

“Have I been a good girl to you, daddy?” Kissing your lips, Cairo looked into your eyes, the mischievous glint now transformed into pride.  

“You didn't let me leave, Cairo.” Your tone was weary, accepting that you had lost the war, the battle, everything. You were hers.   

“It's all right, my love. It just proves how much you're mine.” 

OMG, this took forever to be ready, but I did it!

you guys saw what I did with Anne, Annlynn... Sabrina Annlynn Carpenter... Anyway, I just wanted to make a reference to my girl cause I'm so proud of her. 

The Grammys? The hug she and Olivia exchanged??? Oh, I've been blessed for the rest of my life.

Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed the fic, stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider.

she's made for the girls!

Melting

wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you went trick or treating with your girlfriend. warnings/themes: soft!wednesday (ooc eheh), halloween, trick-or-treating, making out words: 1.8k

'Tis the witching season! 

The whole neighborhood is in a festive mood, with ghouls and ghosts lurking around, kids dressed up as their favorite or the scariest characters. 

Now, there's someone who couldn't care less about all the hoopla. 

You know Wednesday doesn't like to be all sunshine and rainbows, but secretly, you've always wished she would let her guard down and have some fun. 

“It's overrated,” she scoffs. But if there's one thing that can sway her, it's you. 

The nostalgia. You missed those carefree days when your only worry was scoring as much candy as possible in one night. And now you have the perfect opportunity to go back to your child self and relive those memories. 

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase Wednesday,” you whine, dropping to your knees and clasping your hands in front of her. 

She doesn't bat an eye. She just continues to write, her fingers moving across the typewriter. 

“Please baby, please love, please,” you try again, pulling out all the stops—cute silly nicknames, puppy dog eyes that you know she secretly adores. “It'll be super fun.” 

Finally, she stops writing. She lifts her head and turns to face you. She pauses for a long moment, considering your plea. “Fine. But only on one condition,” she starts. “I know it's important to you—so I'll indulge your request. This is just a one-time thing. We won't be making this a habit.” 

“Just... once?” 

“Just once,” she repeats. 

You think for a moment. “...okay.” You nod. “But I'll choose the costume.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine, no funny business. Let's make this quick and clean, understood?” 

“Understood.” You grinned.

—

“Hey there, Mario!” you exclaim with an exaggerated Italian accent while waving your hands around, trying to mimic how he does it. “It's-a-me, Luigi, your lovable sidekick!” 

“It's-a-me, Luigi? I don't know which I hate more—my ridiculous costume or your ridiculous sense of humor.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the garish plumber's costume she was forced to wear. She even had to wear a fake mustache. “I can't believe I let you convince me to wear this ridiculous costume.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the daggers she was sending your way. “Don't worry, no one will recognize you as Wednesday with this get-up.” You winked, but she was having none of it. “Besides, this is just a 'one-time' thing, right?”

She groaned inwardly. “Just make sure you carry this, you have a stronger arm.” With a huff, she hands you the pumpkin. “After all, you're the one who suggested this fiasco, so the least you could do is carry the stupid thing.”

Her hand snaked around your wrist, her grip was so tight you could feel it even through your gloves. 

You both made your way to Jericho, the streets were alive with kids in crazy costumes running around, laughing and shouting as they made their way to different houses. The streets are lined with jack-o'-lanterns and spider webs. 

Suddenly, you spot a house that looks amazing. There are a few children waiting outside, excitedly chattering as they anticipate a chance to fill their buckets with candy.

“Let's try that one,” you say, pointing to the house. “They look like they're giving out some good treats.”

Wednesday just nods and crosses her arms, not seeming interested in going with you to get candies. “I'll just stay here,” she insists.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pausing to look at her for a moment.

She simply nods, waiting for you to get your candies. You give her a quick smile and head towards the house. 

You ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer. A woman with a warm smile opens the door.

“Trick or treat!” you say, holding your pumpkin out.

However, the woman looks at you with disdain. “Aren't you a little too old for this?”

The smile slips from your face as you realize what she means. But before you can say anything else, she closes the door in your face. You stand there, stunned, staring at the closed door. 

That was rude.

You returned to Wednesday, your shoulders slumping as you held up your empty pumpkin.

She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to ask what happened.

You scratch the back of your neck and frown. She could almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. “She... she said I was too old for this.”

You can tell she's angry at the way you were treated, and you secretly hope she doesn't plan on getting back at the woman for her rudeness. She can't believe the audacity of that woman, as if there's an age limit for having fun.

Still, you don't let the incident put a damper on the rest of your night.

“It's fine, there's still a lot of houses we can try again,” you say, grabbing her arms and looking around for another house to approach.

But people keep telling you that you're too old for Halloween and refuse to give you candy.

Wednesday senses your disappointment and starts coming up with elaborate plans to avenge the people who have denied you treats. She seems determined to make them pay for their deeds, yet you keep trying to convince her to just move on and keep searching for sweets.

Just as you were about to give up, you came across a house with the porch light off, but you could hear giggling coming from inside. 

This time, Wednesday joins you in trick-or-treating.

Together, you knock on the door and a person in a ghost costume stands in the doorway, holding a bowl of candy. 

“Trick or treat,” you say, holding out your pumpkin for a sweet.

Wednesday's stare serves as a warning to the person not to disappoint you or suffer the consequences.

The man hesitates before finally grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl and thrusting it into your pumpkin, his hands shaking with fear.

You thank them, and Wednesday gives you a smile as you walk away. “See? Things aren't so bad after all.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Let's just keep going,” she says, before pushing you forward towards the next house.

—

You were walking back from trick-or-treating, your pumpkin filled to the brim with sweets and goodies. 

“Let's go back,” Wednesday mumbled as she walked alongside you, still holding onto your hand. Her hand slipped into your biceps, yet she hardly even noticed.

You nod, prepared to return home. However, before you can leave, you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Wednesday Addams?!” the boy says in shock, recognizing her beneath the Mario costume. 

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Wednesday muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe someone had recognized her in her stupid, ridiculous Mario costume. She could swear in her life that she's never felt so stupid.

You turned to see a boy dressed in a brightly colored insect costume, his antennae bobbing as he waved at both of you. “Hey Eugene!” 

Wednesday narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here, Eugene?”

“I came to get some candy!” He replied eagerly, his eyes sparkling, but then his eyes widened. “Wait... is that really you... Wednesday?” he asks, taking a step forward. 

Wednesday clenches her jaw and you stifle a laugh, amused by her reaction. You offer Eugene some candy from your pumpkin, and he excitedly accepts it, thanking you.

“Eugene, can you take a picture of us?” you request, handing him your phone. 

Wednesday snapped her head in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at you. She's just about lost it. She swore in her mind that she would never take a picture wearing this ridiculous costume.

You flung your arm around her and gave a peace sign as Eugene held up your phone. You chuckle and give Wednesday's waist a reassuring squeeze.

“Three, two...”

Wednesday knows she will be miserable. But she looked at your smile and realized that, despite her aversion to the costume, she didn't want to ruin your fun. So she reluctantly struck a peace sign, hoping that no one would recognize her under that ridiculous mustache.

“One!” the flash flickers, and the photo is captured. 

She couldn't deny the warmth in her chest as she watched the picture saved to your phone.

—

You realized that your feet were starting to feel tired after walking so much. Eager to rest your tired legs, the two of you made your way over to a nearby bench, tucked away amidst the shadows of the trees. 

Wednesday is now holding the pumpkin-shaped basket full of sweets while you gaze up at the stars in the sky. She eventually pulled out one of the candies and popped it into her mouth.

“Taste good?” You turn to look at her. 

“Tastes like poison,” she teases before popping it into her mouth.

You can't help but stare at her lips. Why did her lips look like they were begging to be kissed?

“Do you want one?” Wednesday asks, seemingly reading your thoughts. 

You were almost too stunned to speak, but a soft “yes” managed to escape your lips. 

Small smile formed on her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She offered the candy before you swallowed it whole, savoring the sweetness on your tongue. 

A glance at her lips and then back at her eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Before you knew it, Wednesday had leaned in to share the sweet with you, her lips soft and supple on yours, the taste of candy still lingering on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you were left weak in the knees and breathless.

Wednesday's lips part slightly, her breath brushing against your cheek. You lean in again, but she stops you with a gentle hand on your chest.

“One condition,” she whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“I get to choose the costume next year.”

“We're going to trick or treat again next year?” you ask, grinning. “Fine,” you concede, “your choice of costume next year then.”

With Wednesday's permission granted, you lean in for another kiss, this time lingering even longer than before. Your lips lock together in a sensual dance. 

But you pull away, teasing her. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“Well, I was thinking we could dress up as Remy and his human companion, Alfredo from Ratatouille.”

Wednesday's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed at your choice.

“Okay, I admit, that was a terrible idea, but what about SpongeBob and Patrick? or I can go as Squidward, and we can be rivals instead,” you suggest, desperate to find a costume she'll actually like.

She rolls her eyes, but you could already see the corner of her lips twitching up into a small smile. “You did not just suggest that.”

“Oh yes I did.”

“I'm not dressing up as a rat with a chef's hat next year, that's for sure. And you're not going to make me dress up as a sponge either.”

You smirk. “Maybe not, but I'll still find a way to make you dress up as something ridi—”

Before you finish your sentence, Wednesday's lips are on yours once more, drowning out your words. Her fingers glide down your jaw as she draws you in closer.

“That's it,” she whispers between kisses. “You're stuck with me now.”

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

note: me

Yoko: Enid’s coming. Act natural

Wednesday:

Too Sharp to Touch pt. 13

Word Count: 1.5k Summary: You and Wednesday break into the hunting store to uncover more clues. A horrifying discovery is uncovered. Warnings: Gun mentions, idk tbh Pairings: Wednesday x Reader A/N: I am soooo sorry for the long ass break 😭 Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

The key slid into the lock with a click so soft it was almost tender.

Wednesday presses the door open and slips into the hunting store first, her steps silent against the worn wooden floor. You followed close behind, pulling the door shut with trembling fingers. The hunting store was hollowed out at night—rifles gleaming cold on the walls, animal heads staring blankly from dusty plaques. The air smelled of oil, leather, and something acrid underneath.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She didn’t need to.

Your presence, a tangible weight behind her — jittery, electric.

It crawls up Wednesday’s spine, demanding attention she did not want to give.

She moves through the store, slicing through the dark like a knife. She knew where the records would be kept: behind cheap locked doors and cheaper locks in the back offices.

Kneeling before the office door, the Addams produced her lockpicks, keeping her movements silent, precise, and practiced. She felt you hovering behind her — too close, too warm.

“Stay close,” Wednesday muttered, softer than she wanted it to sound.

An unnecessary precaution.

You were already so close Wednesday could smell the faint scent of your shampoo — something clean, something that didn’t belong in a place like this.

The lock gave way with a reluctant snick, and the two of you slipped inside.

It was a cramped, miserable little office: metal cabinets, a battered desk, a computer buzzing to itself in the corner. Paperwork strewn like dead leaves across every surface.

Wednesday closed the door and clicked on her penlight, keeping the beam narrow.

“Start with the desk,” she said. Her voice came out clipped. Cold.

Good. She needed the distance.

You moved to the desk without argument. Your hands shook slightly.

Wednesday ignored the strange ache in her chest at the sight.

She turned to the filing cabinets, yanking them open one by one. It should have been simple. Catalog. Analyze. Extract. But you kept catching in her periphery — a soft outline, small and quick and breathing too fast.

Distracting. Dangerous.

Wednesday forced herself to focus. Her fingers combed through receipts, invoices, supply orders. Most of it was mundane. Tedious.

Until your soft gasp cut through the silence.

“Got something,” You whispered.

Wednesday was at your side in a heartbeat, penlight tilting down to observe like pinning a butterfly.

A stack of orders.

Darts.

Syringes.

Crates labeled SPECIMEN HANDLING. Shoved behind cases of arrows and mounts. Hidden.

Your brow furrowed. Confused. Vulnerable.

Wednesday swallowed the sharp taste rising in her mouth.

“This could just be for animals,” You offered— you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.

Wednesday said nothing.

They dug deeper.

The smell of rot grew worse.

More papers: lists of modified equipment. Cages. Restraints. Reinforced to withstand superhuman strength. The raven knew for a fact those bars were thicker than the average cage.

Wednesday felt a knot tightening low in her stomach.

No — not her stomach.

Something deeper. Something old.

Another file — slim, hidden between invoices.

You tugged it free, flipping it open with trembling fingers.

Inside, a typed document: SERUM 11-X: Handling and Application Notes.

You skim it; Wednesday could see the rise and fall of your chest.

Dosages listed for subjects weighing 80-120 pounds.

Instructions for “immediate restraint following injection.”

Warning: “Instability in high-powered specimens.”

Specimens.

Subjects.

“It’s just some kind of tranquilizer,” you remark so softly the Addams almost doesn’t catch it.

Wednesday forced herself to move slowly. Deliberately.

She peels the document from your hands, turning toward the ancient computer.

Jiggles the mouse experimentally.

A flicker. Login screen bypassed. Shipping logs opened. Lines of inventory fill the screen.

Rows and rows of shipments appeared.

Some were normal — bulk ammo, standard rifles.

Others were more… unusual.

You leaned in, shoulder brushing Wednesday’s. Neither of you move away.

“Subjects delivered to site on…” You read aloud, voice growing softer. “Return condition: unstable. Failed integration.”

Failed integration?

“What the hell does that mean?” you whisper.

Wednesday stays silent, her face expressionless. Thinking.

You move to another set of papers on the desk, searching for sense.

A page falls free from a file. Handwritten notes — messy, frantic:

Trial 6: Resulted in partial power absorption. Subject unstable. Extensive tissue degradation.

Trial 7: Temporary suppression successful. Symptoms include identity fragmentation, and loss of special abilities.

Wednesday stares at the words until they blur.

Suppression.

Absorption.

Not just capturing outcasts.

Changing them.

Stealing from them.

Wednesday feels something cold crawl up her spine — colder than the storm waiting outside. You lean in close, so close the Addams can feel the heat of your body against her side.

She doesn’t move away. She can’t.

The tension twists inside her, unfamiliar and sharp.

Not fear. Not anger. Something worse.

Something weaker.

You flip through another file. Handwritten notes. Trial results. Partial power absorption. Identity fragmentation.

You back away, the papers slipping from your fingers.

“No,” you whisper. “No, this can’t—”

Wednesday watches you, heart thudding too hard in her chest. She wanted to reach out. Pull you in. Protect.

It was stupid. It was dangerous. It was softer than anything Wednesday allowed herself to be. She stayed rooted where she was.

Barely.

“They’re trying to erase Outcasts,” You murmur, voice barely above a breath.

Wednesday’s chest tightened painfully.

“They’re trying to make us human,” You finish, voice hushed as if even you didn’t want to admit it.

A noise outside. Footsteps.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. She grabs your wrist without thought, yanking you toward the stockroom; you stumbled after her, too shocked to protest. The Addams drags you through the maze of crates and shelves, heart hammering against her ribs. The back door.

Freedom.

She kicks it open, shoves you into the chilled night air, and follows. Dead leaves crunch beneath your boots, the cold nipping at exposed skin. Wednesday doesn’t stop until you’re buried deep between two alley walls, hidden in the shadows.

She backs you against the bricks, shielding you with a sense deep within her that even she couldn’t name, your breathing ragged in her ears. You waited.

The danger passed.

Finally — finally — she eased back, enough to look at your face. Moonlight silvers your hair, catching the terror still lingering in your wide eyes.

Wednesday’s hand lingers at your side, somehow wanting to reach out, to tether you back to herself.

But she doesn’t.

She can’t.

Instead, she says flatly, softly.

“We’re not dealing with hunters.”

_______________________________________________________

The cold clings to both of you as you creep through the woods.

Your breath puffs in frantic bursts beside her, too loud in the suffocating quiet. Wednesday’s steps are soundless. Deliberate. Above you, the clouds drag themselves over the moon, covering the world in near-total darkness.

It suits Wednesday fine.

It keeps her focus sharp.

It keeps her from looking at you too long — at the shivers racking your body, at the way you kept brushing her hand against her sleeve like you don’t know what else to hold onto.

Wednesday’s jaw clenches.

Weakness. Distraction.

But the thought tasted bitter now.

She slowed her pace by a fraction, just enough that you can match her without tripping over roots or fallen branches. She’d thought your werewolf senses would be better than this.

The iron gates of Nevermore loom ahead, black against black. A familiar thrill prickles down Wednesday’s spine — the dangerous, delicious pulse of doing something she shouldn’t.

Normally, she relished it.

Tonight, it was tempered by the steady ache of your presence beside her.

You approached the side wall — the section she knew was never patrolled after curfew. You hesitate, glancing up at the slick stone.

Wednesday crouches low, weaving her fingers together to form a step.

You blinked at her.

“Boost,” Wednesday said simply, voice sharper than she intended.

You hesitated again, chewing your lip — and then places her boot in Wednesday’s hands.

You’re even lighter than you look.

Wednesday hoists you upward with a grunt that she immediately regretted — inelegant, too human. You scrambled up, struggling for a grip on the icy stone. Your foot slipped, just once, scraping hard against the wall.

Wednesday moved before thinking. Her hands found your waist, steadying you.

Warm.

Fragile.

Alive.

“Hold still,” Wednesday ordered, voice low and fierce.

You obeyed without question.

Wednesday guided you higher, shoving down the treacherous instinct to keep holding on. You managed to hook yourself over the wall and tumble onto the other side with a soft oof. Wednesday scaled it herself in three swift movements, landing in a crouch beside you. The two of you duck low, moving quickly across the shadowed grounds toward the dormitories. The school looms above you, windows dark, stone heavy.

Safe.

For now.

Neither of you speak as you slip through an unlocked maintenance door. Your footsteps are damp echoes against the old tiled floors. Wednesday leads you back toward her dorm, each step winding tighter and tighter in her chest.

You stumbled once, and Wednesday reached out — caught her — fingers tightening on her jacket sleeve without meaning to. You stiffened. Wednesday let go immediately, forcing her hands to curl into fists at her sides.

And deep inside her chest, where Wednesday believed she had only bone and blackened blood - something alive flinched.

Taglist:

@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae