Canon Event Between Siblings.

QUE HOMEM LINDO MEU DEUS!!!!

Tom Hiddleston in The Essex Serpent (2022) (S01E05 - S01E06)

I need cairo sweet fanfics

A Night of Eros (Adult!Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

A continuation of "The Master & The Pet", which you may read here.

Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?” Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. “Your leash.”

Summary: Several weeks have passed since you saw that little ‘Thank you’ note stuck on your bedroom door. Work began again as usual between you and Wednesday, but there was a new normal on the horizon when she confidently required your service again. Warnings: Adult!Wednesday, Power Bottom!Wednesday x Service Top!Reader, Strap-on sex, some Master/Pet dynamics, Dirty Talking, vague degradation? LONG, explicit smut. Words: 9k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of dectectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU. If you try this at home, that is at your discretion.

The grandfather clock ticked away in Wednesday’s gothic dream of a library. Dark red walls that stretched to a big ceiling, filled with fine literature that you were certain Wednesday had read over at least once. The architecture of her mansion was a sight to behold, even if you’ve been seated in this very place over hundreds of times in the past. 

Never in this weather, however, with the rumbling roars of the distant thunder foreshadowing more of this already tempestuous storm to come; the howling winds that whistled away and the sound of raindrops muffled only by the strong walls and the crispy, old sound of one of Wednesday’s favorite record playing in the lobby, the sound reverbing and bouncing off to the large library. Accompanied then by the exquisite sounds of a live fireplace with crackling fire. A morbid romantic scene painted with the finest of brushes.

Once again, Wednesday was on top of you. What else was new with the two of you.

But this time, the energy in the air was different, charged with a different kind of tension that the two of you have grown accustomed to. The atmosphere was less frantic, experimental and unsure, leaning more towards secure, calculated and passionate.

Unattended notes and books laid in Wednesday’s desk, notes half written and deductions half deduced – standing idle, a mystery remained unsolved while Wednesday indulged into something she had avoided addressing for long enough. Across from her desk was your own little desk, on it laid an envelope filled with documents ready for you to examine them. 

A manila folder barely touched, for when you arrived at Wednesday’s mansion and reached the library, she had pushed aside her documents and walked over to you before you could even glance at them. 

But let us not get too ahead of ourselves. Let us start from the beginning.

Wednesday expected you, since she called you herself to talk about a new potential case, but at this dark hour and under this weather, Wednesday had been waiting for more time than she expected. Bad weather, bad traffic, the whole works, but when you finally appeared, her mind was no longer thinking about the case. Instead, her mind and eyes wandered at your figure as you walked into the library. 

Wet leather gloves in hand, drying the light sprinkles of rain away from your face, dressed in the usual red sweater with black trousers. The common look you often had, but something that Wednesday found herself fond of a little more than before, quietly observing with her proper and unmoving posture. Already eternally bored with a case she knew was open and shut, she decided to indulge in something else for the evening. Besides, it was already too late to go out and do anything fun besides theorizing. 

Instead of greeting you with any reprimand or anything, Wednesday stopped right in front of you, looking up at you with those sharp, round eyes. The void of her black eyes was glistening, with the reflection of the fireplace’s fire. You stopped when she stopped, in total silence before you spoke out.

“Everything okay, Wens?” Your voice was soft as if to avoid disturbing the atmosphere Wednesday had curated for her library, a hand reaching to pull and look at your sweater, seeing if it was damp anywhere.

“You are going to catch a cold,” she said directly, a furrowed brow of concern ever so present. “Did not know how unruly the weather was when I told Thing to text you.” There was a missing apology in there somewhere, but the concern for your well being was read in between the fine lines.

You laughed a little, placing the gloves on the desk and looking at the damp spot in your shirt. “I don’t mind, Wens,” you reassured her. “Anything for the thrill of a good mystery,” you smiled big.

“Unfortunately, I have looked into the case and it seems very standard,” Wednesday looked down at you briefly, already hinting at something that you could understand. She looked back up at you and continued speaking. “You can still look it over and tell me your opinion.”

You eyed the envelope in your desk, tempted to have a look and see why her assessment was such. It was not uncommon for you and Wednesday to look over a fresh case together and decide, unanimously, that this was a piece of cake. And therefore, a very boring case. Yet, you could always have a look and see if Wednesday missed something in the rare chance she may have judged too quickly.

But she interjected with a quick statement. “I recommend you dry that up before you get sick,” she breathed in, tugging at your sweater as her eyes scanned it. A subtle move that was rather simple from Wednesday, who often didn’t touch. “I do not want a sick partner to drag around, it’ll only slow me down.”

A conflictive statement that did not match her eyes or touch, but something quintessentially Wednesday that brought a soft smile out of you. You gave in, however, pulling away from her space and walking towards your desk.

“Did you not hear me–.”

“I heard you,” you said loosely, cutting Wednesday off and peering into her glare. A glare not too strong, so you gave her a small smile. The curiosity of the case had gripped you already, and it made you wonder why Wednesday thought this was open and shut, so you really did not care to dry up. 

The prospect of Wednesday constantly poke and prod about how you will get sick of pneumonia and die (as per her usual humor) was not as tantalizing as the mystery so you decided to reach a good middle ground. You took your sweater off, grabbing the manila folder and taking a look at it. You did not notice the quick expression of shock on Wednesday’s face. If you could call that shock at any capacity. It was more of a ‘nanosecond of wide-eyes’ before she drifted to her usual composure, her neutral face not betraying something brewing inside of her. Something that burned hotter than the fireplace. Suddenly, she pulled her tie to loosen it a bit, feeling a tad suffocated.

Your eyebrows were knitted in focus, walking over to the fireplace. “Missing persons case or murder?” You said, sitting down near it and sprawling your sweater on the floor for it to dry up alongside you. 

Wednesday breathed in deeply and began to walk over to where you were, arms crossed under her bust. “It’s no Black Dahlia, which I must admit has me heartbreakingly disappointed.”

You gave it a quick read, skimming through it. Missing persons for over five years, all the leads recorded were from directly after the case began, the works. You looked up from the sea of formal words to find Wednesday standing over your sweater with a head tilted. “Something the matter, Ms. Addams?” You questioned while you continued to read over, only half-paying attention to it.

“You could have simply laid here with your sweater on to dry up,” Wednesday sounded firm, as always having an air of superiority to her tone. “You did not need to be naked.”

“I’m not naked, for one,” you nearly mumbled out as you flipped over a paper. “Secondly, it’s not like you didn’t see me naked before.”

“I did not,” Wednesday piped up immediately and then silence befell upon the two of you.

A connected gaze that spoke a lot louder than what I could do here, but I dare to try anyways. It was a look of intensity, a mixture of curiosity, passion, almost indignation, but so devoid of malice that it was surprising. Only when you peeled your gaze away from those dark eyes did you notice that one of her fists was… clenched, like holding onto something imaginary for dear life. Wednesday had no tells when it came to lying, deceiving, playing Poker or anything, but she had a tell for that little ‘weakness’ of hers.

“When I was out for the count in the hospital, yeah you did,” you chuckled, closing the folder. “So, I don’t see why you’re uncomfortable.”

“Nevermind that,” Wednesday took a deep breath in and replied. “I am not uncomfortable, I just questioned your audacious choice to disrobe in front of me.”

Then you squinted, pointing at her with a smile. “Did you just… implicitly confess that you’ve seen me naked?” 

Silence, filled with suspense. A silence that Wednesday utilized for many occasions, but never to admit guilt. Yet, here she was.

You had a cheeky smirk on your face that you couldn’t erase, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. “So what was said is true, you bathed me while I was out?”

Perhaps what happened next was a bit abrupt and slightly unbecoming of someone like Wednesday, but it was not uncommon to you who knew her in the most peculiar of phases.

She took a long stride to where you were seated and, with her feet planted firmly on your shoulder, shoved you down to lay on the floor, back against that comfort rug. Rather than painful, that was kind of fun, it had you unexpectedly chuckling. That 5’0” menacing figure stood over you with furrowed brows and an impassive face as she began her questioning: “The nurse yapped, didn’t she?”

“I never said it was a nurse,” you raised an eyebrow. “You said that yourself.”

Now the two of you were at an impassé, and Wednesday knew not how to feel.

With a sigh, you decided to be honest now that you had a heeled boot pressing against you. Thank god she only used heels on very rare occasions, otherwise you truly wouldn’t be so chill. “I thought that was really nice. Taking care of your partner like that,” you paused for a moment, looking up to her eyes and seeing them soften a tad. “I liked that.”

“It was incredibly creepy and invasive,” Wednesday admitted and you couldn’t believe that there may have been a small ounce of guilt over that as it slipped her lips. Very unlike the terrifying Wednesday, but you understood why.

“Yeah, I think that’s what I like about it,” you finished. But the thought in your head added ‘Only because it’s you’ for you truly would never trust anyone else to help you. Seeing the vague guilt knitted in her eyebrows dissipate in a pleasant surprise, you added something else, however. “I think you liked it, too.”

And unlike last time many weeks ago, Wednesday couldn’t hide her blushing cheeks and that evil smirk of hers behind the curtain of darkness. That must have ringed some semblance of truth, for it deterred Wednesday from digging her boot deeper into your skin. But she did swiftly move to straddle your hips, leaning down with her hands on either side of your head. Eyes connected, words unspoken for that brief moment she drew closer. The atmosphere had changed instantly. 

“I did like it, I enjoyed watching your helpless naked body,” Wednesday growled.

And under any normal circumstances, you would be creeped out, but now you were just turned on. Most importantly, you noted that sudden confidence in Wednesday, a contrast to that one night that seemed so far in the past now. “Oh yeah? I bet you couldn’t stop looking at me.”

“I was so afraid,” she huskily said, leaning in closer. Nose to nose, her hot breath tickling just right. “That you would slip away from me before I could play with you, my little pet.”

Out of pure curiosity, you questioned. “Is that why you took the time to bathe me?”

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours, but quickly traveled down to your lips, as if she yearned for them. Her response came later. “I trusted no one to touch you. I took matters into my own hands.”

Now you didn’t know if it was merely dirty talking, a playful possessiveness, or if it was the truth she harbored deep within. Maybe it was all of the above, with one having less chances of happening than the other. Regardless, it was tense.

Tension, tension, tension; so palpable and warm that you no longer felt the effects of the cold wind from the weather in your bones. Wednesday has gotten quite good at this dirty talking thing, so morbid yet enticing to you. Your hands instinctively reached to caress her thighs, but she grabbed them both and pinned them down above your head. 

“You don’t get to touch your Master,” she growled almost, leaning in and stopping short with your lips and hers only inches away from one another. “Not until I say so.”

You could almost lean in, tempted so much to touch her lips and feel that comfort. But you kept that desire to yourself, compliant like a good pet. “Yes, master,” you lowly said. 

Now, Wednesday had no idea how to subtly express her desire for more. At least not yet anyways. Unable to even insinuate it through dirty talk, her creativity limited only to murder and grotesque scenes in her ‘usual’ state. So she just decided to say it matter-of-factly like she tended to do. “I will experiment with you, my pet,” straight to the point, yet she was never exactly naming the act itself – neither by its more clinical and boring name, nor the more audacious and salacious one. Hiding her lack of experience and confidence well, she proceeded. “We explored some of what I liked, yet master hardly indulged further,” her hands left your wrists, reaching to start undoing her tie. “I would like to do that tonight, before you think of reading over that boring case. Understood?”

You licked your lips, fighting the urge to touch her. “You’ve been working on your dirty talk, that’s good,” and just as you finished that sentence, Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The smooth silkiness, the pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?”

Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. A fervid kiss shared between two pent-up partners, a delighted whimper coming out of you and a satisfied moan drawing out of Wednesday, when she pulled away her voice was firm in correcting you. “Your leash.”

In between the lines, you read what she intended to say: Be a good puppy tonight.

You chuckled though, hands still restraining themselves to avoid touching Wednesday. “You’ve come prepared, I wonder what else you got on your sleeves.”

“Toys,” Wednesday admitted immediately.

And that took you back for a moment. “W-what?”

You almost couldn’t believe what she was saying, but you soon realized she was not joking.

Smash cut to the flabbergasting scene. You and Wednesday standing over her desk, a large wooden box of old laying there open with a small, orderly variety of toys. What jumped to your view, of course, was the strap and that skin-colored dildo. It… matched Wednesday’s skin tone, and the mere thought of her with it on made you bite your lower lip. But you pulled back, not getting too ahead of yourself. “I thought you weren’t into this kind of stuff,” you mumbled out after.

“I wanted to ravage my pet a little more efficiently,” she said, giving it to you straight. But when she looked at you, there was an ounce of yearn and a dash of preoccupation, wondering if that might be okay with you.

Curiosity was piqued, given that she had said that she wanted to indulge more in her pleasure than yours. So, you asked quietly. “You want to use it on me?”

Wednesday hesitated, turning her body to face yours. “Eventually. I would like you to use it on me for now,” a pause. “I’ve seen the way you can move your hips.”

Flabbergasted, you almost jumped out of your ‘pet’ character at this revelation. You should’ve known, all things considered, but her boldness was the thing that caught you off guard just a tad. Well that, and the confession that she had observed you previously. “W-when?”

“During that case we had at the club, when you were distracting the suspect by asking them out on a dance,” Wednesday’s blush became a little more apparent, especially this close. “That was impressive and I would like to see it up close.”

There was more she wanted to say, but you didn’t push her to say it. You, instead, got on your knees and looked up at her. With the change in height, Wednesday already could feel herself growing into her role of your Master. She grabbed your tie almost instinctively, like something had compelled her to do so. Now more aware of what she wanted and eager to comply, you said: “I am entirely at your disposal, Master.”

“Good,” a brief pause full of tension. “Get the lube, put the strap on,” then Wednesday smirked. “And put your sweater on.”

Huh?

Wednesday Addams was an odd woman, who simultaneously knew not what to make of sex, yet knew what she wanted from it. Most importantly, she knew what she wanted to do with you, at least this time around. The doubt that you once saw that night at home was almost entirely gone, replaced by innate curiosity and willingness to explore beyond her prejudices. Everyday, you learned more of her and this was no different. She had ordered you to get up, put on your red sweater and you didn’t know why. For a moment, you thought she was going to tell you to disrobe for her but in a switch of things she told you to dress up.

The reality was that it was something psychological, something subtle that aroused Wednesday. 

You came to understand it as you were pulling her socks off, the two of you now seated in the rug a safe distance away from the consuming flames of the fireplace. Wednesday was seated and leaned back, relishing in the look of you fully dressed while she was already down to just her underwear. Almost entirely bare for you.

“My sweet little pet, don’t you wish you were naked with me?” Wednesday said, watching you, her little pet, pull her other sock. 

You played along, curious. “Don’t you, Master?”

Wednesday’s smirk was devilish. “I much prefer to witness you this way. Clothed, desperate, serving me and only me. While I lay bare, exhibiting myself to you as I please.”

Like you are not allowed to be naked, to be disrobed without her permission. She is in total control of you, and even if the clothes restrained you little, Wednesday took pleasure in that idea alone. A master in control of the subtle things, pulling at your strings to get what she wanted. In addition, Wednesday probably enjoyed the feeling of being exposed to you like this, feeling like she was… doing something so wild, something depraved and out of character for her. That still-audacious choice of underwear spoke to you, perhaps louder than last time. Black lace matching set, more enticing than macabre and a new side to Wednesday. It was not the same she wore before, which brought even more questions. You didn’t mind at all, leaning down to gently kiss her feet, an affectionate gesture in the midst of so much depravity. A gesture of devotion to your partner in crime.

“Good pet,” Wednesday praised you, with much more fondness in her tone than she intended. 

Pulling you by your leash – er, tie – Wednesday hungrily captured your lips on her own in a fervent kiss. Consuming all remaining bits of reason and deterrence, welcoming in ‘immorality’ and wickedness in its place. You noticed it in the way Wednesday kissed you now, letting every ounce of passion come through in the rather frantic way she devoured you. Confidence, that was the change. She bit your lower lip and tugged with a mischievous smirk, looking at you with those lustful half lidded eyes and tacitly encouraged you to do your magic, like a good pet. Once she let go of your lip, you took the lead and kissed her hungrily again, this time letting your tongue drag across her own. Your hands, like with a mind of their own, expertly undid her bra amidst the kiss and immediately reached down to help her slip off of the rest of her underwear. Breaking the kiss, Wednesday almost groaned at the loss of contact but finished undressing just as eagerly to welcome something far better. 

Curiosity was plaguing you as you folded her underwear neatly and placed it alongside Wednesday’s clothing items (a peculiar habit, but nevermind that). That curiosity came to a head once you started to smear lubricant all across that silicone shaft, feeling its details with your fingers. “Have you used this before, Master?” The question was genuine. 

Wednesday, already blushing and aroused, nodded without any shame. “I have. It was certainly an experience,” she admitted, sitting up to grab you by the cock and pull you in a little closer, neediness permeating her entire body language now. She stroked it slowly, despite knowing you technically didn’t feel anything. “If you are worried I might not be able to take it–.”

“No, I think you’ve got it,” you chuckled out, observing the way her hand stroked the strap. The mere intention and the way she did it were enough to allure just about anyone, but there was something about her doing it that was so peculiarly arousing. “You’re ready for me, Master?”

Wednesday looked up, then smirked and laid back down. Her legs opened to welcome you, instantly wrapping around you the moment you even moved closer to her. “Are you, my pet?” Wednesday cheekily responded, now observing you with lots of attention. 

You raised an eyebrow at her, gently guiding the cock to brush against her wet and ready folds. That garnered a reaction, soft and subtle but a delectable one nonetheless. “Readier than ever,” you paused, looking at her pussy and continuing to rub the tip against her. Her natural lubricant now smearing all around it. “You’re so wet. Have you been holding yourself back for weeks?” You asked rhetorically, or at least with no intentions of hearing her respond.

But she did. “Yes, I have,” she looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You wouldn’t let her wait any longer, gently tapping the tip of that cock against her clit and making her squirm almost instantly at it. An overwhelming sensation that probably felt so good for Wednesday, because she bucked her hips against it just to feel it more. But you stopped it in favor of what Wednesday was looking for.

The tip of the cock aligned against her entrance, meeting a bit of resistance before you pushed it in. That satisfying pop inside was not a shock for Wednesday, but still something still too new for her to be accustomed to. As gentle as ever, you slowly pushed it in, guiding the cock with one hand while the other caressed Wednesday’s tummy to quell the possible ache of an intruding object. “Shh, shh, you’re good, baby,” you softly placated. 

Wednesday deeply breathed and held onto your arm, doing her best to calm her body down. In no time, she welcomed your gentle and languid thrusts smoothly. The slickness of the way it slid in and out was indication enough but the presence of soft sounds of pleasure that grew steadily into moans was the last confirmation you needed. Now, you leaned to hover over Wednesday as your hips moved in a rhythm designed to ease Wednesday into it, not thrusting everything into her. But it was also to eventually torture her for how agonizingly slow and shallow it was.

Wednesday was still in the ‘ease-in’ phase of it, hands traveling down your clothed body and landing on your moving hips. Truthfully, she admired the movement as she felt it in her pussy, hands gripping your hips to understand the way it felt in her hands. Relishing in every second of its slowness. With a delighted hum, she reached down and grabbed your ass – possessiveness written so clearly in her intentions, but also curiosity as to how it felt thrusting into her. Mewling, she had a smirk that you swore could almost be a smile. “Not bad, my little pet,” she complimented you subtly, and you had to fight back the urge to thrust deep into her and ravage her right then and there. Be a good pet, and you will be rewarded.

Those soft moans of ease grew into needier ones and you did not wait for Wednesday to ask you or threaten you to start going faster. Your rhythm naturally picked up, thrusts becoming more elaborate along with it, and Wednesday only could get wetter and wetter. You straightened up, fully able to view Wednesday’s bare body in all its glory. Gorgeously bathed in that golden glow of dancing fire; the subtle arch of her back making her look so sensual. Your hands held her hips briefly before they traveled upwards caressing as much of her body as you could. When your hands reached her breast you grabbed them, kneading them passionately (it seemed to have taken Wednesday by a slight surprise), not letting your hips falter for a second as you did. “Such a good pet,” Wednesday moaned out, placing her hands on top of yours. “Harder now, your master is ready.” 

“Yes, master,” you raspily said. Hands moved away and you leaned in to capture Wednesday’s lips in a rather simple kiss. Simple but still passionate, brief enough to send a message of affection. But to make it clear, you softly spoke. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

Wednesday nodded, keeping any witty remark to herself as she knew you were only being a good pet by taking care of her.

The fun truly began. You sat back up and grabbed Wednesday’s hip tightly, fingertips greedily digging into her skin. The movement of your hips went from sensual and slow, to wild and rough; pulling out until just the tip clung to Wednesday’s entrance, then slamming that cock all the way inside. The moment Wednesday felt that all the way inside, there was no way in heaven or hell that she could stop herself from moaning out as loud as she did. It was certainly a pleasant surprise though, for she didn’t squirm away from your hips, instead pushed against them. Welcoming it, asking for more. Then you didn’t hesitate to do it again, and again. A bestial instinct sparked within the two of you at this roughness, you both sinking deeper into that lustful haze that understood no reason, only pleasure. 

Shouldn’t be a surprise that Wednesday liked it, thrusting that cock as deep as it could go and filling her up, then feeling that cruel pull out that seemed to stretch on forever – even if it wasn’t that long at all. All of it was arousing, the tension in between, the sensation of being filled to the brim, all of it sparkling new to her, for she didn’t dare to venture this far when she used this toy by herself. It amused her how much losing control like this was something she was enjoying thoroughly. The wet sounds of it all, the skin slapping that gradually became quicker, the perfect atmosphere of a thunderstorm raging just outside the sturdy walls of the library, stimulating her every heightened senses.

Then you picked up the speed, holding her down in place and letting your hips do the work she so desperately wanted to see. Savagely, you wasted no inch of that cock and made every movement count. Wednesday was elated, now unable to fully restrain those loud moans back, hands clinging and holding on tightly to the rug that provided little steadiness. Merciless thrusts that Wednesday wallowed in. Oh and she enjoyed that wild look in your eyes, mirroring hers as you embraced such a savage state of mind with her as a guest.

Wednesday wanted to be the recipient of your desire, over and over, for however long she could. 

That intense feeling was building up in the way she liked, her pussy starting to feel sensitive, her cheeks warming up exponentially, her entire body tensing up and moving without her thinking it, her toes curling–.

But then… What happens if she comes? Will you stop? What happens when this is over? Will it ever happen again? Was she ready for that? 

Something switched in Wednesday’s train of thought, so sudden and unexpected. The strong emotions were coming in fast and she couldn’t process them at all. The intensity escalated more, but the pleasure started to take a backseat as suddenly she was overwhelmed. An unpleasant new sensation pooling at the pit of her gut that took over her mind for that moment. A mixture of confusion and desire that Wednesday had yet to fully examine, too out of her mind to even think about what she truly was feeling. 

She was not ready to lose control totally, but paradoxically she wanted to lose control so badly for that moment. Cold and heat clashing in the worst moment possible to make her doubt everything.

The moans of a carefree Wednesday suddenly turned into whimpers, then to sharper whines, clawing at your arm and gasping. That shortness of breath forbade her from vocalizing this confusing sensation, but luckily you could intuit something was wrong. You heard it, you felt it, and instinctively started to slow down; elongated strokes now shorter and careful. Hearing those gasps and whines fade a bit, lowering in volume, was a relief. Your affection for her quickly took over, searching for her eyes and reading her expression. It was as you heard it, Wednesday was overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” You panted out, leaning down to be closer to her.

Her arms wrapped around you limply at first, then she held you tighter than before, panting heavily and burying her head on your neck. A twinge within you couldn’t help itself in feeling this intensely… adorable, even though what happened probably felt wrong for Wednesday. Her finding solace in your embrace was good, though. She trusted you that way.

Putting your role in this dynamic aside for a moment, you reveled in that inner tenderness of yours and this rare break from all the wildness. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay,” you softly cooed, sweetly speaking to her ear. “You’re okay, mamacita. I’ve got you.”

Wednesday sighed out loudly, coming back down from this strange overwhelmed state quicker. It dissipated, pleasure slowly returning in its wake. Wednesday found it rather fascinating as her mind slowly returned to planet earth. It was a rush of sudden emotions that she had never experienced before, let alone as intensely as this. The way you slowed down and let her calm down, it was like you understood exactly what had just happened. Trusting you and your knowledge, she asked in a low voice. “What… what was that?”

“You got overwhelmed,” you said lowly, pulling her away from your embrace and encouraging her to lay down on her back. Your hand idly caressed stomach to help calm her down, watching her already mewl in approval of that. Reeling in the back of her eyes was the surprise, which should wear off for a second, so you were patient.

“I like it rough,” Wednesday clarified, but her eyes and eyebrows showcased that confusion. “That wasn’t a problem before.”

“It wasn’t,” you sighed out loudly, letting your body catch a breather as well. “But if you get in your head or I reach a spot you’re not comfortable with, you might…” You trailed off as you noticed Wednesday averting her gaze somewhere else, propping her upper body up by her elbows. You knew what that meant, so you softly commented. “You got in your head, didn’t you?”

No response. Instead, Wednesday tried to communicate by looking at you, unsure of how to word it.

Well, that was an amusing part of the experience, to understand that even the great Wednesday – your master – had a limit. Or, well, a soft limit that could easily be overridden. Taking the lead, you pulled away to trail a few, passionate and slow kisses around Wednesday’s stomach. Those soft moans of delight came back and Wednesday had fully relaxed by the time you chose to speak.

“Let’s try this again, this time I want you to stop thinking about it. Let the moment be and make the most of it.”

Wednesday looked down at you, her adorably obedient pet, taking the reins for her sake in this brief moment. The dark spirals of that blackened heart felt, strangely, at ease. Nothing inherently romantic, nothing sexual, just comforting words from a partner who sought to look out for her well being. In confidence, she spoke: “These desires bring so much trouble,” her heart not fully on the statement.

Your kissing halted for a second to chuckle and reply: “Yes, but it’s an itch worth scratching,” you said, continuing with gentle licks. Intimacy and affection not forgotten, you let your hands travel the dips and curves of Wednesday’s body, knowing that while she never spoke out loud about these affectionate gestures, she appreciated the subtle worship – maybe even more than you realized.

The role of master came back to Wednesday naturally as the pleasure rolled back in, this time feeling it a little more intensely than at the beginning but in a manageable way. Your role came back to you instantly as you noticed she went back to getting bolder, moans of pleasure loud and clear, primed to compete against the rumble and roar of the thunder outside.

Your master came back in full force, demanding you to stop with a firm voice that sent goosebumps all over. “Enough, little mutt,” and you were a good pet that obeyed, lending the baton back to Wednesday. “Your master needs to know more about your abilities…”

Did you ever wonder if Wednesday was flexible? It seemed like a no-brainer with all her training and physical disciplines, but when she asked you for something audacious you couldn’t have ever imagined it.

Your hands under her knees, pressing them against her body and exposing that wet, needy pussy all for you to play with. The infamous mating press. The tip of the cock poked and prodded against her entrance, your hip stuttered for a second before you boldly thrusted all the way in, watching Wednesday throw her head back as she moaned without a care in the world. Wednesday could feel it go in deeper than before, but her body was prepared for it and reacted positively. You dared not to move yet, patiently awaiting her command even though the desire to fuck her was clawing within you. Obedience that did not go unnoticed as Wednesday smirked at it, rewarding you with a soft kiss and a caress to your cheek. “Fuck me, my obedient little pet,” she gasped out sensually. “I know you want to.”

No more hesitating then. With your hands gripping her leg tightly, you did as she told you. You fucked her, and you fucked her good. Starting with a moderate pace that had Wednesday groan in vague annoyance, before quickly shutting up those moans with roughness, slamming that cock into her with gusto. Wednesday moaned out for you, calling out your name – sometimes outright forgetting to refer to you as her pet. But those were precious moments where her mask slipped, where her affection was clear, and it was sweet. A lustful mist that clouded her brain enough to truly reveal that she loved this deeply, because it was with you. So you continued to give it to her, merciless full strokes that at times had her gasping for air before she composed herself and remembered to breathe. Especially when that warm twinge started to contract in her gut, but this time in such a toe-curling pleasurable way. It wouldn’t take long for these bestial thrusts to stimulate her every inch until she came.

But Wednesday had better plans. “My lovely pet,” her labored, gaspy voice appeared between the strings of incoherent sounds. “Master’s going to come, stop.”

You almost didn’t understand anything except ‘stop’, but the bewilderment misaligned your thrust enough for the strap to slip out of her pussy. A mixed sigh of relief and annoyance at the loss of contact came out of Wednesday instantly. “W-what?” You stammered out.

Limp went her arms and body for a second, relishing in the cruel, anguishing sensation of a climax that never came and quickly faded. That wicked smirk on her face was enough confirmation of what she had just said to you. You didn’t stay behind though, calmly aligning the tip of the toy back against her entrance, entering a little bit slowly. 

“H-hmm?” Wednesday was puzzled, until she felt a single, long stroke all the way in. Her gasp was instant, but she could barely process the feeling of that cock inside of her because you pulled it back out instantly. Poor thing almost expected it back in, in accordance to your rhythm, but it never came and it had her excited, anticipating with hunger. Oh, it was anguishing and delicious.

“You’re going to torture yourself until you can’t anymore, aren’t you?” You growled at her, giving her another deep, rough thrust in. Her moan could barely come out before it turned into a whine as you pulled back out quicker, again. “You learn quick.”

Wednesday groaned at the sudden power you had over her, yet protested it none. “You better not come either, not until I’m done playing with you–Hnng!” You interrupted her sentence by thrusting into her, because some of that masochistic cruelty she had for herself started to rub off on you.

“I can’t come from this, master.” You interjected. 

She could’ve easily thrown a witty remark back, but she was busy being surprised to still feel that cock inside of her after that initial thrust. Yet her gasp didn’t take long to appear again as you started to circle your hips while buried deep inside her. “Fu-fuck, you naughty mutt,” Wednesday cursed out, back arched and head thrown back, noting how her eyes had rolled back at that moment.

That is probably the first time you heard Wednesday curse at you, or in general. How amusing, you wanted her to do it again – and you were gunning for that, but you were stopped by the feeling of grabbing you by your neck abruptly. Surprising, but in your drunken lust it was so sensual. She pulled you close, staring deeply into your eyes. “Get on your back, you slutty mutt,” her bewitching, sensual voice just got to you, bringing a new spurt of energy to your body that you couldn’t expel in any other way but this one.

Fucking her real good. 

Reclaiming her throne, Wednesday straddled you but with a whole different aura to her now. It was not her merely powering over you to interrogate you, or disturbing your serene slumber. This time she looked at you with that evil smirk tugging at her lips, dark eyes oozing hunger. Yes, indeed, she’s famished for more, and now she took the lead. Vague hesitation permeated her movements at first, but once aligning the cock to her entrance and smoothly sliding down on it, that hesitation dissipated to welcome instinct instead. The instinct to seek more pleasure, slamming down to fit it all the way in with a groan of ecstasy. Hands on your chest and shoulder for leverage, Wednesday began to move her hips in a way you never thought she would. That was a pleasant surprise, and though you technically couldn’t feel anything, the mere sensuality of it all had you enthralled. 

“Such a good little puppy I have with me,” Wednesday moaned out softly, her alluring moves starting to pick up a little in speed. “So obedient,” her voice a mixture of wickedness and affection, a combination she was so good with. “So sad the little puppy can’t come from this.”

Fingertips traveled from your collarbone to your cheek, feeling her dexterous fingers dance down to your jaw, staying in your chin for a moment before lightly (and surprisingly slowly) scratching under there. A gesture akin to what she would do to a real pet, and that was elating. It made you smile, which in turn brought a very rare smile on Wednesday. One you knew not to comment on, for she hated the way she smiled sometimes. Encouraged by the gesture, your light-as-feather finger touched her thigh, caressing upward as she moved and stopping at her hips. Your palm felt the movements, your fingertips dug into that soft, surprisingly warm skin – when it usually is cold and almost rigid. Being the good puppy that you were, you aided Wednesday in her moves and kept still for her to humor herself as she pleased.

And the gesture did not go past Wednesday.

“Helping Master?” Wednesday rhetorically asked, mewling in between that pause and holding it together to continue talking. “You want Master to come, even if it means you won’t get anything?”

Fascinating that Wednesday seemed to revel in the dirty talking, when she once preferred silence. Of course you would indulge her, nourishing that exploration and newfound kink. Everything for your master. “I want you to, Master. I’ll serve you until you’re satisfied.”

Wednesday knew that your selflessness knew no bounds, especially when it came to her. She could be the cruel mistress right now, but instead she slowed her pace down, her hand now caressing your face. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you a reward,” was what Wednesday could muster, a vague admission that she wanted you to feel pleasure from her as well. Eventually, anyway.

You couldn’t deny such a generous offer. “Yes, Master.”

Pulling your tie to prop your head up, she leaned down and kissed you hungrily, sloppily, but without missing a second to savor it. You replied with the same vigor for that brief moment you locked lips. There was no time where kissing Wednesday felt repetitive, for it always was a strong sensation that sparked all over your body – and Wednesday felt the same, unable to deny that she enjoyed it. 

Letting go of your tie, Wednesday pulled back and began to truly pick up the speed. Her sensuous moves went faster and she tried very hard to keep it consistent, feeling the pleasure get to her, and in a way that was so intoxicating to watch. Yet, it felt like you shouldn’t be observing, ogling so much, like Wednesday wouldn’t want that. But that flicker of doubt went away when she looked into your eyes and smirked briefly. She wanted you to, she was encouraging you to observe her bare body – a sight no one gets to see but you, especially not now as it bounced on that cock, so ravenously seeking that climax. She looked so heavenly, so wild, you almost wished you had more hands to touch and grab those bouncing breasts greedily. Instead, like any good pet, you settled for helping her bounce on it. Helping her light frame up and down on it, even subtly bucking your hips against her movements to fully get all that cock into her, and her reaction to it was immediate. The cock rubbed and poked at sensitive spots within her with such gusto that Wednesday could feel her body acting on its own, actively seeking it and continuing her bounce. Hypnotized by the feeling of it, that zenith inched close far too quickly for her taste.

With a shake of her head, she pulled it all out and settled to sit away from it, panting heavily. You thought, for a moment, she maybe would have wanted to come like this, but – almost as if she read your mind – she placed her hand against your lips and kept you quiet. She shook her head again, catching a breather.

“No, I’m not done with you.”

Okay, maybe she did read your mind. 

But you couldn’t read hers and she knew so by the way you looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and lost, half-lidded eyes.

Once composed, Wednesday huffed in relief and moved away from you. She crawled, slowly and alluringly away from you, showcasing herself to you in all her naughty glory. The only reason you didn’t immediately go to her was because you were flabbergasted. She looked so good, and so tempting in all kinds of angles. You truly could devour her, she was likely to let you.

A soft, impish chuckle came out of Wednesday once she noticed this, soon whistling (loudly at that) to get your attention. When you finally woke up and looked at her, your response was absent minded but honest. “Sorry, mistress.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, but she liked it, motioning you to come on over with her hand. “Come here at once,” she was firm but oddly affectionate as you crawled over and adjusted behind her. “Mistress needs her release now,” she said with a sensual emphasis on Mistress.

A subtle tell that, like this, she was ready to come. “Y-Yes, master,” you stammered out. While your voice faltered in that moment, your hips did not as you bottomed out that cock all the way into Wednesday back where it belonged, earning a satisfied groan. 

The pace and rhythm was already set to be fast, frantic and needy; her pussy so wet and welcoming that there was no need to be gentle anymore. Truly, you were not. Holding her hips in place, you thrusted with gusto, enjoying every second of this and making every inch of your move sensual and tantalizing for Wednesday to enjoy. Your mistress mewled and moaned like she never did before, showing you that she could truly get louder. Her back arched, her hands clung to the rug, and she couldn’t help some incoherent profanities from slipping past her composure. Well, whatever was left of it. And that paper-thin composure got shattered more when you started to rock her against your thrusts to truly impale her as deep as you could. It was pure ecstasy, it would make anyone with the hardest wall melt for sure and Wednesday was no exception. Even less when you wildly smacked her ass and picked up the roughness more.

“Fuck,” Wednesday gasped out at the sudden shift, feeling everything a lot more heightened now. “Y-you naughty little mutt,” she could barely say that with a growl, moaning towards the end of it. “You truly know how to fuck your mistress, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the mere atmosphere had you tipsy with lust even if you couldn’t feel the friction. “I can’t get enough of your pussy,” your fingers dug into her skin the rougher your thrust got. “I-Is this good Master?”

You didn’t need to ask, Wednesday’s volume went up higher and could almost make the walls shake. “So fucking good, don’t you dare stop,” Wednesday’s labored breath was almost lost to the sound of slapping, but you caught it right on time.

“You’re dripping wet, Wens,” the nickname slipped your mind, your brain foggy with everything happening. “You’ve been needing this a while.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t seem to mind. “Because of you,” she replied in between gasps and moans, reaching back to feel around your body, from your arm to your shoulder, for your tie. She grabbed it and began to pull you in, making you drape your body on hers. You obliged, stopping for a moment, buried deep into her and twirling your hips to truly stimulate her deep down. Her eyebrows knitted in such delight at the pleasure. “Come here,” she whimpered out, placing a hand on your head and directing you to kiss, hard and needily. You didn’t expect anything, especially as her tongue dragged across your lips hungrily and possessively, seeking to taste your tongue again. However, there was a brief break in between that passion for Wednesday to say something you didn’t expect to hear ever.

In between moans and mewls, Wednesday said: “Thank you.”

You assumed it was because of all of this? After all, you got all the way here and became her little pet for another night – for however long it’s been since you two first kissed again. Clothed, aroused yet unable to undress and please yourself. A masochist’s dream to some extent. But it’s feasible that, deep down, Wednesday felt a little guilty for selfishly putting you through this for her amusement. Or maybe she felt… grateful that you made it safe for her to do so?

Overwhelmed with affection and passion, you replied a simple: “Anything for you,” as you dove down to her neck to place a playful bite that she chuckled at. Another thing you heard for the first time in a while, a chuckle that was not fake or forceful, coming from her deepest, most honest side of her black miasma of a heart. But a heart, no matter how blackened and rough, was still a heart at the end of the day.

Your hands went from her hips down to her pussy, caressing so lovingly on the way there. Rubbing her tummy with one hand and stimulating her clit with the other, you immediately felt that strong response against your body. Wednesday’s body squirmed, she gasped and grabbed a fistful of your hair when the pleasure hit, feeling that wave extend over her body in a positively paralyzing way. Now that’s the way to get her. 

A bit sooner than expected, Wednesday felt that extreme desperation to come, but could barely vocalize it with the way you fucked her, the way you played with her pussy like you were born to do that – like she was born to enjoy you. In a surprising gesture, Wednesday firmly commanded:

“Look at me.” 

It was like it came from her most primal side that refused to become mush to your administration while her entire body quivered. You gave her one last bite to her neck and looked up at her, hips fervently thrusting towards her climax (and you swear you could feel her closing around the cock), hands frantically rubbing and working on her clit while she looked at you with such hungry eyes. The pleasure built up again, but this time there was no thought to ruin it, letting the moment be as you told her to do. Her only thought was to lose that control she was so afraid of losing, and to relish that loss in your arms.

“Make me come, make your master come all over you,” she moaned out now, less firmly now.

As she said that, you put a little more pressure in your hand, your hips moving just the right way and angled in that perfect way that instantly had Wednesday’s face contorting entirely because of that pleasure. You pulled your body away to give her and her body the space to react to it, already telling by the high pitched tone of her voice that she was right there at the coveted zenith. It all had sent her off the edge, opening the floodgates that spilled her juice all over your cock, all over your fingers, nearly dripping down to the rug. “Oh my god,” she cried out and called out for you in a drowned whimper, upper body succumbing to the rug, hands stretched out to cling to anything to the rug. Her lower body trembled against you and the way you fucked her, truly something you didn’t expect Wednesday to experience. You knew nothing more at that moment than to keep going, now thrusting more consistently to truly fuck her all the way through her orgasm.

An orgasm that surprised you by how it stretched further than her last one, remaining as intense for longer. You were a good pet that gave it your all until it started to fade. Her moans got quieter, her body uncoiled from its tense state, and you slowed down in tandem to it. Fingers, thrusting, everything slowed down. Time, even, the storm outside, seemed to slow down with you both.

Then, that fervor, that all-consuming climax, was gone.

Wednesday panted heavily, gasping out at the feeling that you were still inside of her, so she reached back and touched your hip to gently push you, pleasantly overwhelmed and overstimulated. Obliging, you pulled away. Quietly now, only accompanied by your labored breaths and the crinkling of the live flame nearby, you both relished in that post-orgasmic bliss – Wednesday more than you, but watching her still propped up and so ruined was… so good, it could almost bring you to your own climax. 

You focused back on her though, gently touching her and leading her to lay down proper. Mind still reeling from all that, Wednesday only got on her side and laid down. The movement and the contact of your hands had her whimpering and whining, still sensitive because of it all. It was honestly quite adorable but you knew not to admit that out loud. You didn’t waste more time, standing up to get rid of the strap-on so you could get down and properly cuddle your master. Lewdly, you noted just how all of Wednesday essence was on it, and you couldn’t fight back a moan of your own.

“Get… here,” Wednesday barely mumbled out, snapping your attention back to reality and quickly to her. “Hold me, puppy.”

Putting the strap away for a nice cleanse, you walked back and laid down on your back next to Wednesday. She immediately moved closer and placed her head on your chest, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you as close as you could be. You tenderly hugged her close to you. “Are you okay?” It was that sweet contrast between the focused, primal you of moments before, to the supportive and puppy-like you in the after bliss. 

Wednesday nodded, still too spent to speak. 

“Good,” and you had all the intentions to let the conversation die there if needed, until you started to feel her entire body give a quick, almost adorable twitch. You blinked in confusion a few times before you looked at her. “Did you just twitch?”

“Keep it to yourself,” Wednesday said with a flimsy attempt at sounding firm, slowly looking up. “I can’t help it.”

You smiled down at her and nodded. “Your secret will always be safe with me,” you leaned down and placed a kiss on her bang-covered forehead. 

There was a mumble that  you couldn’t understand, Wednesday shifting a little closer. You held her tighter, rubbing her naked back. After a brief silence between the two of you, she spoke out more clearly. “Good puppy,” a beat. “I’ll give you your reward.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and was about to protest it, seeing how exhausted she was.

Then she continued. “Some other time…”

Rather than frustration, that brought a chuckle out of you. “Yes, we have a groundbreaking case to crack lying on that desk first.”

Wednesday groaned. Another chuckle from you, then pleasant silence. 

The conversation drifted with the lulling wind outside, the song that Wednesday had playing far away finished so long ago. Now, her record player only spun in silence, while the partners in crime slept cuddled close to the warm fireplace.

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

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.

Missed Connection 6

Summary: A flight delay causes a chance meeting between R and Jenna Ortega

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW! smut, language

A/N: I'm aware the Barbie timeline doesn't match up but tbh it was so funny I couldn't not do it. I stayed up way too late writing and editing this so there are 100% going to be mistakes here. Heed the warnings above...happy Pride month you filthy animals <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A stack of papers is slapped on the desk in front of you, the force of it fluttering your hair. Jenna’s hand is on your lap, gripping your fingers tight.

Sam’s office is larger than you thought it’d be, more extravagant. Proof of her success hangs on the walls, degrees, photos of her clients, a picture of her with Obama. It smells like leather and jasmine, and it screams prosperity right in your face.

Clearly, Sam is excellent at her job. Which is probably why she’s fuming right now. 

“Have you two seen this?” She asks, gesturing at the stack of papers.

You wince, glance down at the top page. You fight with all your might not to snicker. Jenna’s fans were clever and bloodthirsty. You succeed in not laughing, but as soon as Jenna sees the photograph, she snorts, quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and apologetic.

The pages are screenshots of memes from Twitter and Instagram. The top one is a photo mimicking the new Barbie movie posters of her and Ken’s mugshots. The problem? The faces have been replaced. With yours and Jenna’s.

Jenna’s photo is brilliant, possibly one you took from the Met Gala. She’s smiling from ear to ear, looking proud of herself. Above the photo is her name, and below it, in the photoshopped mugshot board, the text says ‘UNDERAGE DRINKING’.

Yours is your actual mugshot, and you’re half amused, half furious that someone dug it up. Your name is above the photo, and on your mugshot board it says ‘ASSAULT’. It’s amusing, but the funniest part is the tweet attached to it. 

“Y/N could assault me any day, no one’s blaming you Jenna babe!” 

When the screenshot was taken, there were over 300k responses to it. You’re sure that number has tripled now.

Jenna reaches over, her eyes bright with curiosity, and flips to the next page. It’s filled with replies, most of them agreeing with the original tweet. When you see the one at the bottom of the page, you lose your battle to remain collected and join Jenna in her giggling.

“Jenna better be careful. Y/N has an assault charge and she can fuck it up, I can tell. If I were her I’d be extra protective of my pus-“

You don’t get to finish reading it because Sam slaps her hand over the page, glowering at you. 

“Oh come on, Sam,” Jenna says between laughs, “they’re so funny!”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, “They’re vulgar, and it’s hurting your image.”

You glance at Jenna, your laughter quickly quelled by Sam’s irritation. She huffs and slouches back in her chair, her hand pulling away from yours to shrug.

“Change my image then.”

Sam presses her fingers over the bridge of her nose, an action you’ve deemed to be her signature move when she’s speaking to Jenna. 

“The goal was to avoid the child star gone wild trope, J. You’re killing me.”

“Sam, please,” Jenna scoffs, dropping her arm to rest behind your shoulders, “it’s not like I’ve gone full Miley. Maybe it’s time the world realized I’m an adult now.”

Jenna’s arm over your shoulder and her fingers softly grazing your back through your shirt have you entirely distracted. It’s been a week since you confessed your crimes to her, and you’ve been practically inseparable since. She worked with Sam, and they chose to post a photo of the two of you to her Instagram, casually announcing your relationship. 

Since then, the internet and the media have exploded. It didn’t take long for the tabloids to publish your rap sheet, but luckily Sam had a plan for that. The day your misdeeds were printed, a ‘mysterious’ leak was also posted about why you had an assault charge. The large media groups tried everything they could to scold Jenna for dating you, but her fans went absolutely feral for you. 

So feral, Sam was worried it was getting out of hand. Hence the meeting in her office. 

“J, your mother is going to actually murder me. And you can kiss any teen movies goodbye,” Sam says, pulling the papers back toward her as she notices you eyeing them again.

Jenna nods, “That’s fine with me. I don’t want to play sixteen-year-olds anymore. And you don’t work for my mom, you work for me. I’m sure she’ll love Y/N when she meets her.”

You blink hard, gulping at the thought of being introduced to Jenna’s family. Luckily she’s too focused on Sam to notice your nervousness.

Sam sighs, “You’re right, I work for you. So I’m telling you, we need to do something to get them off this,” she gestures at the pictures, “and on to the next thing.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jenna asks, leaning forward with interest.

Sam scratches her chin, “Not sure yet. But I’ll call as soon as we come up with something. Until then, please, for the love of god, keep it PG.”

You can tell Jenna wants to fight her on that point, so you rest your hand on her knee, coaxing her down. She glances at your hand, biting her lip. Looks over at you and nods at Sam.

“Fine, PG. Got it.”

Sam eyes you warily, “And you?”

You frown, taken aback, “What about me?”

“PG, understand? No funny business, no brawls-“

“Sam!” Jenna exclaims, but you smile and squeeze her leg gently.

“I understand. These hands will remain inside the car at all times.” You say, lifting your hands to show Sam your palms.

She narrows her eyes at you. You can’t tell if she’s fighting a smile or if she wants to strangle you. Probably a bit of both, you figure.

“Alright, go on then,” Sam flips her hands at you, shooing you both out of her office.

The minute you’re in your car, Jenna is pulling you over the center console, her lips practically fused to yours. The last week consisted of several dates, a lot of kissing, and some heavy petting, but you hadn’t had sex yet. 

You both agreed to take things slow, especially after the background check mishap. But it was becoming exceedingly difficult, especially when every touch caused both of you to jump into overdrive. 

You pull back, and Jenna whimpers, her arms still tight around your neck. It takes everything in you not to lean back in, not to crawl into the passenger seat and strip her down, paparazzi be damned. But you promised Sam, and you’ve already done enough to tarnish Jenna’s good girl reputation.

You chuckle, press a quick kiss to her pouting lips, “We promised to keep it PG.”

She pouts harder, allowing you to pull yourself a little further out of her grasp, “What if I had my fingers crossed?”

Her sulking makes you really laugh, shaking your body with giddiness, “I would not be able to sleep at night if I knew your mother might see pictures of us having sex in the car on the streets of Hollywood, Jenna.”

Her expression lights up, her fingers trailing down your arm igniting goosebumps on your skin, “So you were considering it, though.”

Your eyes widen, you shake your head, “No…I…uh.”

She quirks a brow at you, her smile telling you she sees right through your mumbling.

You drop your head, smiling bashfully, “It may have crossed my mind.”

A full smile breaks across her cheeks, her dimples on full display. You know your eyes must be something close to pitch black at the sight, your mind subconsciously trying to take in as much of the image as physically possible. She leans back in her chair, still smiling, pulling your hand into her lap as you drive away from the curb. 

You’re anxious to get home, the promise of a movie night on your mind—the possibility of moving your relationship a little faster even more present. 

There’s tension crackling between the two of you the entire drive back, unspoken but understood. When you lead her into your front door, you’re half expecting to be shoved onto the nearest horizontal surface. It may have happened, too, if not for Mr. Burton. 

The second Jenna walks through the door, he comes bounding off his shelf, his black tail held high, and his ears pricked up. The cat had fallen for her, he seemed to enjoy her even more than he tolerated you. It would make you jealous if it weren’t so damn cute.

“Mr. Burton!” Jenna cries out, scooping him up and holding him on his back like a baby.

He purrs happily, pressing his head into her chest, his front paws curled under his chin. You’ve never seen him so docile. It makes you laugh softly, earning a glare from both Jenna and the cat.

“Don’t laugh at him,” she says, “he’s just a baby. Aren’t you?”

He meows on cue, and it’s enough to make you roll your eyes and leave them in the entry way. You settle into your couch and turn on the tv, flipping through apps and searching for something good to watch. It’s only noon, but you had no other plans, so a movie sounded like the perfect way to spend the afternoon close to Jenna.

She carries Mr. Burton into the living room and delicately places him on his cat tree with a kiss on the top of his little head.

“I think he loves you more than me,” you say, feigning irritation, but your soft smile gives you away.

Jenna curls into your side on the couch, smiling triumphantly, “Of course he does.”

You gaze down at her, “Can’t blame him, I guess.”

She wraps her arm around your waist and rests her head on your shoulder, “What’re we watching?”

Your cursor hovers over the Scream franchise, “Let’s watch this one.”

“I love the first one!”

“No I want to watch the ones I haven’t seen yet,” you say, squeezing her side.

She shoot’s up, reaching over to steal the remote from you. You hold it out of reach, laughing at her terror.

“We can’t watch those ones, y/n. Seriously! I’ll crawl out of my skin if I have to see myself on that screen.”

“Awh come on J, I haven’t seen them!”

She scoffs, reaches across your body for the remote again, “Absolutely not. Watch them when I’m not here.”

You laugh around your words, teasing her, “No, I like to watch Wednesday when you’re not here. Have you seen her? Good god, she’s sooo-“

“If you finish that sentence, I will walk out of this house.”

She’s fully leaning over you now, still struggling to wrestle the remote from your outstretched arm. It’s cute, watching her struggle, or it was at first. Now she’s in your space, you can smell her perfume, and you’re rapidly losing interest in watching a movie. She realizes her proximity at the same time you do, stopping her struggle to turn and look down at you.

The remote hits the floor when she climbs into your lap, her knees on either side of your legs. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins to pound. Her eyes are dark, her lips parted. She blinks once, so slowly it’s like watching her move in half time. 

The tension between the two of you snaps almost audibly, and everything gets very hot, very fast. Her hands are everywhere, her mouth on yours, her body pressing into you. You slide your fingers under her shirt, her skin warm on your palms. When she sighs into your mouth, it’s like you’ve just swallowed absinthe, the way it makes your entire body burn. 

Her shirt hits the floor faster than the remote had, and your lips leave hers in favor of her throat. She pulls you into her, pushing her hips forward hard into yours. You both groan at the pressure she’s creating, igniting the pace like gunpowder. 

Your kisses grow sloppy, trailing down her neck and over her chest. You’ve both abandoned taking it slow at this point. All you want is fast, fast, fast. Her pants are unbuttoned, and your shirt is halfway off your head when her phone rings.

You slow your movements, glancing over to it, buzzing on the couch next to you.

“Ignore it,” she says, breathless and pulling you back to her lips.

It stops ringing, and you’ve nearly forgotten it because she now has your shirt off and her lips on your neck. And it rings again.

She stops her lips and growls into your skin. The effect the sound has on you is embarrassingly immediate. Your fingers press into her sides, trying to relieve some amount of the pressure building in your lower abdomen. 

The phone rings again, and she sighs, sitting up and reaching over to grab it. She stays in your lap, and you sit there dumbstruck, watching her analyze the phone. 

“It’s Sam, I’m sorry,” she says, rolling her eyes and answering the call.

When she presses the phone to her ear, the skin of her chest is far too tempting to resist. You lean forward, kissing her there as she drops her head back, not stopping you.

“Hello?” She answers, a little breathy. “Sam, it’s not-“ she gasps as your lips travel to the top of her bra, but she still doesn’t stop you. “It’s not a great time right now.”

The hand that isn’t holding the phone runs across the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair and keeping you in place. 

“Speaker? Seriously can this wait like, a few hours?”

You pull back, your eyebrows raised. A few hours? The thought sends you into a whole other gear. When you start to lean forward again, she pulls her hand from your hair and places it on your chest, stopping you. You look up, and her face is more serious, she shakes her head. 

You want to pout, push your lip out like a child at her self control. Instead, you stay where you are, waiting. Hoping the call ends soon.

It does not. She pulls the phone from her ear and taps the speaker phone button.

“Okay, you’re on speaker, she can hear you,” Jenna says, her tone clearly irritated.

“Great,” comes Sam’s voice, “we’ve come up with the plan.”

When neither of you speak, she carries on, “You’re going to Coachella.”

You frown in confusion. What did Coachella have to do with anything?

“I know, my sisters are coming with me,” Jenna says.

“And so is y/n. It’s the perfect way to get people talking about the two of you, hopefully without mentioning the mugshot. And they’ll get new pictures which should put them off on a new tangent.”

All you heard was that you would be meeting the Ortega sisters. Anxiety courses through you, nervousness at the thought of being introduced to the family. Jenna sees it cross your face and rests her hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing your neck. She looks down at you, awaiting your answer.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, wide eyed and clearly anxious.

“No,” Sam says, “pack your bags. You’re going home, J.”

——

The entire two hour drive to Coachella, you’re a nervous wreck. Your hands sweat, your heart beats wildly, your mind races.

Jenna being in the passenger seat helps, some. She spends most of the ride assuring you her sisters are going to love you. The other parts of the ride, she’s asleep with her hand wrapped in yours and her head knocking into the window every time you hit a pothole. 

When you pull into the hotel parking lot, you gently shake her awake.

“Hey, Jenna, we made it.”

She lifts her head, blinking sleepily. She squints out the windshield, eyeing the hotel. 

“Mmkay,” she says, then proceeds to rest her head back against the seat and fall asleep again.

You chuckle, your heart growing at least three sizes at the sight of her sleepy face. You turn the car off and climb out, pulling your bags from the trunk and leaving them near the passenger side. You open her door and squat down, shaking her again.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re here. Let’s go get checked in.”

She grumbles, yawning and stretching, “Okay, okay. This bed better be as comfortable as your car.”

You finally drag her to the counter, shocked at the lack of a crowd around the hotel. No one knows she’s here yet, or you would have been swarmed on your way in.

You wait close behind her, waiting your run to check in. Once the receptionist pushes over the key cards, Jenna hands them off to you, still bleary eyed. She starts to head for the elevators, but you call after her.

“Are you going to wait for me to get my room?” You ask her.

She frowns, jerking her head back, “You have the key right there.”

You look down at the key, look back at her. The puzzle finally falls into place. 

“Oh…oh. We’re sharing a room.”

“Do you not want to?” She asks, running her eye with her knuckles.

“I…I…I mean…if you want to then…I’m okay with it.”

She smiles, rolling her eyes playfully, “Then let’s go.”

You follow her like a puppy on a leash through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. She sways, still heavy with sleep. It’s only 9 PM, but she looks ready to collapse. You pull her into your side, letting her lean into you, and she wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head on your chest.

She beelines straight for the bed before the door even closes in the room. You settle the luggage in the armchair and at the door of the bed and wander to admire the suite.

“This place is so nice,” you say, mostly to yourself.

“Yeah, you can appreciate it tomorrow. Come lay with me, I’m so tired.” Jenna whines from the bed. 

You turn and see she’s made herself comfortable over the blankets, resting high on the pillows. She stretches her arms out, reaching for you. Who are you to say no to her?

You kick your shoes off and climb onto the bed, letting her pull you over to lay on her chest. She runs her fingers through your hair, humming quietly.

“Thanks for driving. I don’t think I would have made it.”

You snort, “You were asleep before we even got halfway.”

She hums in agreement again, “Car rides are my weakness, I can’t ever stay awake.”

You don’t respond, just smile. Her shirt is soft on your cheek, her nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

“Are you still nervous about tomorrow?” She asks you.

You close your eyes, nodding against her silently. It’s hard to feel anxious when she’s scratching your head, her heartbeat steady in your ear, and her breathing lulling you into a peaceful relaxation.

“Don’t be anxious, baby, they’ll be nice. I promise.”

Your eyes shoot open, your heartbeat ticking a notch faster. You push yourself up on your elbow, picking your head up to look at her. She smiles curiously at you, trying to figure out what caused you to move.

“What did you just call me?”

Her face turns the most gorgeous shade of pink as she realizes what she’d said. She bites her lip, looking a little unsure.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry I can-“

You don’t let her finish her apology. You’re on top of her in less than a blink of an eye, your lips on hers in a frenzy. She’s quick to respond, her hands sliding up your shirt and her nails scratching at your back. You sit up and pull the shirt over your head. You don’t plan to slow down, but the look on her face gives you a moment for pause.

She looks perfect. Absolutely, perfectly divine. The freckles across her nose and cheeks, the stray hairs hanging in her face, her soft brown eyes, and her lips. Oh, the things you would do for those lips. 

Your admiration is cut short when she pulls you back into her, almost rough in her haste. You’re not sure when her clothes come off, somewhere in between your tongue slipping into her mouth and her lips pressing into your neck. It’s all a lust fogged haze, cloudy in your mind until you’re naked and your stomach is pressed between her legs. 

You want to go slow, savor the moment of your first time together. You want to go fast, rush into the ecstasy that is sure to come.  Your indecision is dissolved when she rolls you onto your back, taking the control out of your hands. 

You think you might be dreaming, when she trails kisses down your ribs, her hands gripping your thighs. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable being so out of control, but the look in her eyes is enough to keep you planted. 

She kisses the inside of your leg, looks back up to lock eyes with you, “Is this okay?” She asks, her voice low.

You gulp, nodding. You can’t trust your voice not to crack, so you keep your mouth shut. But it doesn’t stay that way for long. 

You gasp when she presses her lips to your clit, and you nearly black out when she licks an exploratory stripe through you. She wraps her hands around your legs, her hands squeezing the tops of your thighs as she licks you, sucks you. She moans between your legs, and you see stars, your fingers reaching down to intertwine with hers. 

It would be embarrassing, how quickly you’re writhing underneath her, if you had the wherewithal to care. But you don’t, and your back is arching off the bed, and your fingers are squeezing hers, and your throat is raw from how heavy your breathing has grown. 

You’ve wanted this for longer than you care to admit, and it’s even better than you’d imagined. With a breathy sigh, you’re cumming under the pressure of her mouth, turned to absolute putty in her hands. She kisses her way back up your body and you’re flipping her over before the shivers of your orgasm have even left your bones.

Any inclination to savor the moment is burned away by the flames raging in your stomach. You have to have her. Now.

The kisses you trail down her body are hasty, sloppy, hurried. You’ll enjoy the expanses of her skin later, right now, you only have one thing on your mind. 

The sound she makes when your mouth meets her is like the origin of the universe. It’s unexplainable, it’s perfect, and it’s all for you. You want to split apart, give her every piece if she just keeps making those sounds. 

Her hands are in your hair, tugging at your scalp. You reach up, your palm running up her arm, asking her to be patient while you enjoy her. Your lips wrap around her clit, and you suck. She lifts her hips into you, seeking more from you. She’s unraveled and greedy, and it’s everything you hoped for and more. 

She whimpers when you lift your head to kiss her thigh, hips lifting again, wanting. Your finger dips into her entrance, and you look up at her. Before your eyes even find hers, she’s already nodding, pulling at you. You push a finger in and ascend, your lips crashing into hers as you feel her tight around you. You give her a second before adding another, swallowing her moans when they leave her mouth. 

She feels so good around your fingers, you wonder if it’s even possible that she’s enjoying this more than you. But the way she squirms under you, and her nails raking down your back tell the gospel truth of her pleasure. 

She jerks her head away, gasping for air. You lick at her pulse, kiss the sweet and lightly salty skin of her neck. Her chest presses up into yours, her nails digging into your skin, her groaning in your ear. Her orgasm is intense and long, and it has her sighing your name between inhales and exhales. It’s the most moving hymn you’ve ever borne witness to. It’s poetry. 

She slumps into the bed, and you’re close behind, falling over on her side. You’re both silent for a while, gathering yourselves and slowing your breathing. 

After a few minutes, she rolls over, half her body resting on yours. She presses a kiss to your sternum before placing her hand there and eating her chin on it. You smile down at her, still high on your bliss.

“I’m calling you baby every single day from here on out,” she says, her voice practically a sigh.

You lean down, kiss the top of her head, “Clearly, I hate it.”

She giggles, kisses your neck, and sighs again. She settles in on your side, you can feel her eyelashes flutter closed on your skin. Her breathing evens out so fast you’re in awe at how quickly she falls asleep. 

You ruminate on the events of the night, hanging on to every detail as long as you can before you’re falling asleep too.

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

intertwined | wednesday addams

tags: no major warnings, no pronouns used, kissing, teasing, reader and wednesday are good... friends?

words: 1.493.

a/n: there was an attempt on writing a fight scene and humor, sorry... once again, thanks to @wesstars for all the tips and helps. ily

“You’re so sexy when you’re hot and bothered.” You play around, watching the small girl stand up with gritting teeth.

“And you are really annoying, do you mind shutting up?”

You humorously laugh, raising your hands in defeat and going back to your position.

Slightly bending your knees and motioning your hands in front of your face for protection, you waited for her attack. Wednesday took a step closer, eyes analyzing your body language, her brain working to find the next move you’d make to, again, get her and immobilize her, but you were on neutral.

Wednesday grew up an Addams, and that meant knowing a little bit of everything, martial arts were no exception, something that Wednesday was an enthusiast of; so when she suggested you two to take a few rounds to train in the empty fencing room, she didn’t expect you’d also be really good at it.

After a couple of hours, she was disheveled, her fringe sticking to her forehead, the perfectly braided hair almost all loosen, sticking to her sweating neck. You smiled provocatively, hands motioning for her to come for you, but she waited.

She wanted you to take the first step this time.

You were not stupid; you could see the intentions behind her dark, narrowed eyes. How she was positioning on the black tatami, her hands ready to push your punch away, legs slightly apart to hook on yours and take you to the ground. A classic Brazilian capoeira movement, one you’ve been using for the past hours, annoying her.

Her eyes brown furrowed, clenching fists ready to throw the first punch if you weren’t going to do it. But when your right hand came towards her in a hook, she dodges it, paying attention to where your left hand was, now coming from beneath, ready to hit her jaw. In a swift movement, she slid back, knees buckling to adapt the new position.

Wednesday saw the perfect opportunity to punch your thigh, earning a painful huff from your lips. Your knee almost gave way, but you were quick to change weigh to your right leg, taking a step back.

“Keep doing that, love, it’ll work eventually.” You hummed, recharging your arms as they were starting to hurt after hours of practicing.

“Thought I had told you to shut up. If I wanted to talk, I would have invited you to Enid’s Allan Poe book club.”

“Ouch,” you place your hand on your chest, right above you beating heart. “that almost hurtled me, like your weak punch.” You provoked, seeing how far this would go until she started to actually hurt you.

Wednesday tensed up her jaw, the sharp jawline showing how annoyed she was at the childish behavior of yours. You tilted your head, licking your lips as you noticed a single drop of sweat going down her temple, then her neck and disappear in the vale of her breasts, the black training outfit hugging her curves just easily distracting you.

It was the perfect moment for her small fist to collide with your left ribs, it would surely leave a mark. Your body jerked down in instinct, hands protecting the sides of your face ready to defend from her attacks, but when she slid her right leg in between yours and hooked the left one on your hips, you knew you were going down.

Your opponent pushed her left leg down, easily throwing you to the floor. The small body then climbed on top of yours, knees clenching on each side of your body as you kept on protecting your face, hands up ready to defend, but, surprisingly to you, Wednesday took your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaning closer.

“If you try that move one more time, I will chop your leg off and give it to Thing as a Christmas gift to build a body. Is that clear?”

Her hot breath hit you in the face, smell of her fainted perfume filling your lungs.

“I doubt you’d that,” you shrugged, adjusting your hips under her. “plus, I think Thing is content with the way he is now.”

“I am starting to think you have a death wish.”

You smiled, noticing the way her breath hitched when you moved again, thighs pressing on your sides.

“It would be an honor to be killed by you, my sweet Addams.”

Wednesdays rolled her eyes, nails digging in your wrists as she leaned in closer, some strains of her black hair brushing against your neck.

“I shall not be merciful.”

“I like the pain.” You arched your back, making her lean back, hands still firm on your wrists. “Are we about to kiss right now?”

She took a deep breath, deciding on either letting you go or staying in this position for a few more seconds. It was comfortable, and Wednesday didn’t feel that from people around her; it was given the fact that growing up together and exchanging a couple words during families gathering caused that, comfort and trust.

Even though she enjoyed your company at times, you were a little menace and Wednesday learned how to tolerate your jokes and playful words over the years, but now that you were both adults, those words started affecting her and they remained on her mind far more than she would like.

Were you joking when you said she was your favorite Addams?

Or that you would help her to dig a hole and bury a body? You even specified that it didn’t matter if it was a dead or alive body.

You understood her.

It starting messing with her head. And now this, this position that she encountered herself in, feeling something in the way your noses were almost touching and the way you adjust yourself under her. She was trapped in her own thoughts to notice the weaking grip on your writs, allowing yourself to switch positions, carefully landing her on the soft, black tatami, locking her wrists just above her head like she did to you.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.” Your voice failed you, if you weren't so close to her, she wouldn’t have listen.

“What’s stopping you?”

Her dark eyes were flaked with gold, no regret in them but... curiosity? Anticipation? You’d only see that glow in very specific occasions.

For a second, it was like the world around you stopped spinning, your ears not believing those words that slipped past her lips.

“Are you sure?”

“If you don’t kiss me this instant, I will regret allowing you to hold me like this.”

“Aren’t you afraid to fall in love with me?” You whispered amusingly, brushing your lips against hers.

“Love is overestimated, the idea of loving someone does not cross my mind and I will not–“

Shutting her up from a long monologue that was coming, you closed the gap between your two, sighing against her.  

It was a soft kiss at first, a mere press of lips, but it was enough to get your heart racing.

When you pulled back, curious to see the reaction on her face; her eyes closed, the freckles covered in a pinkish tone and parted lips. You smiled, kissing her once again, the butterflies in your stomach flying around, causing a warmth in your chest.

Unlike you always imagined kissing her would be, Wednesday allowed you to take control at first, opening her lips when she felt your tongue brushing on her lower lip.

The moment you slid your tongue on hers had her buzzing, heart beating erratically in her chest, it was like she could feel every drop of blood rushing trough her veins.

Even tough it was the first time you actually kissed, it felt familiar, as if the both of you have been missed each other for a long time, it was tender and a little bit hesitant, but patient and it felt almost impossible to stop. The

When you parted your lips, a strangled and shameful moan scape your throat when Wednesday captures your lower lip in between her teeth, sucking it softly.

At a certain moment that you couldn’t remember, your grip on her wrists eassened and moved to her fingers, intertwining them with yours, thumbs brushing her cold skin.

“You’re a good kisser, Addams.”

“Thank you. Now get off of me.”

“Why? You want to be on top?”

“I despise you.”

Rolling your eyes with a playful smile tugging the corner of your lips, you stood up. “You despise me because I’m hot, I’ve never done anything to you.”

Secretly, deep down her stone-cold heart, she didn’t. But Wednesday wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually tell you that, you were already an annoying person, and she wasn’t ready to deal with the taunts that would come with that. But when you turned around and started packing your stuff to leave, you missed the smile that insisted on not leaving her lips.

BOTTOMS (2023) scr. Emma Seligman, Rachel Sennott