#Reluctant Reader Wednesday

[kingsbridgelibraryteens]

Reluctant Reader Wednesday: Dracula by Bram Stoker

Okay, I hear what you’re saying: why are you recommending THAT dusty old thing? How could a reluctant reader be enticed by a book that was written in the 19th century? Well, I’m recommending it because WHAT’S OLD IS NEW AGAIN. Also because (and this is important!) Dracula is a classic book that has aged well.

Even if you’ve never read this book, you already have an idea of what this story is about. A vampire is killing people, and some of the smartest and strongest people fight back. There’s lots of blood, and suspense, and drama. But if, like me, most of your understanding of Dracula came from movies and other kinds of pop culture, then reading the original book will surprise you. By the time you finish this story, you’ll have thoughts running through your mind like …

Who knew that an American cowboy was a major character in this story? 

Who knew that a woman was a major hero of this story?

“Lizard fashion”????

I’m REALLY in the mood for some paprika chicken right now! 

There are several different ways to enjoy the classic book Dracula. You can definitely check out a copy of the book from the library. But in “what’s old is new again” news, you can also read the story in chronological order through Dracula Daily emails, and you can listen to the story in chronological order through the Re: Dracula podcast! 

[ichorai]

ménage à trois.

pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac

synopsis ; “you turned him,” you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “you were always the selfish one, weren’t you? i could never have anything for myself.”

words ; 3.8k

themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory

warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...

there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!

You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780—six years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion. 

Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestat’s, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleans—though less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, he’d confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girls—especially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.

“I’m a writer,” you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. “I hope you don’t mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.”

Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. “I’m sure they do. Why here, though?”

“Your establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.” You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. “I’d best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.”

“Not a morning person?” Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.

A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. “You could say that, yes.”

From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell you—though there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.

You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dry—and setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.

You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestat’s relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though… the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.

“You turned him,” you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “You were always the selfish one, weren’t you? I could never have anything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, did I spoil your little toy?” Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.

“He wasn’t a toy. He’s a friend.”

The blonde vampire’s hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. “A friend that you fucked.”

“On occasion.” Your nose wrinkled. “You fucked him, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadn’t fucked Louis.

“Don’t be jealous, my darling,” he said, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?” 

He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didn’t push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.

It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softer—his inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampire—one with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.

“It’s no wonder I never saw you during the day,” he said, Lestat’s arm slung around his shoulder. “But why didn’t you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?”

“Older vampires find it easier to resist temptation,” you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. “Besides—I wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. “Wait, were you two—did you… did he turn you, too?”

A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. “Oh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldn’t tell.

Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?” Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. “There is more than enough room here for three coffins.”

As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option. 

“You could just say you’d like me here. Don’t have to be dragging Louis into it,” you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.

“Yes, yes, fine—I’d like you to stay, as well. I’ve missed you terribly.” Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.

“Louis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean ol’ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. It’s been so long I can hardly remember mine.” You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm. 

Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louis’ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that weren’t soaked with his kill.

The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasn’t the best analogy. 

“Here, put this on.” you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. “That was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. You’ll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They don’t take kindly to black folk, neither.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging on the shirt. “I was hungry.”

“I know,” you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louis’ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. “Just be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between us—you can trust us.”

Louis’ face contorted at the realization. “Sometimes I forget that this is gon’ be forever. That I won’t just wake up and you two will be gone. That I’ll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.”

“Forever isn’t always a bad thing,” you said, voice soft and soothing. “It is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. You’ll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.” You hesitated to say the next few sentences. “Lestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. He’s afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though… you aren’t alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.”

“And are you?” Louis asked.

“Do you think of me as godly?” 

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Most of the time.”

“I’m still a person,” you reassured him. “Lost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.”

Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventually—it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldn’t shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily. 

Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And you’d always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end. 

When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for you—always decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginable—Louis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each other’s for a time.

With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your work—you didn’t bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. “We can share, my love. I don’t mind—not with you. And I’m sure Louis wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Rather presumptuous of you,” you replied.

“Not presumptuous if you’re thinking it,” Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. “Don’t resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“There’s a reason I left you in the first place,” you whispered. “You are possessive and mean when you want to be.”

Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. “That may be true… but you’ll stay for Louis.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.

“I will.” 

“Good,” he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.

Many moons later, you walked into one of the house’s many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat. 

“My nephew,” Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. “I was so afraid I would… I could hear his heart—his tiny little heart—and I wanted to rip it out and eat it. I’m a monster.”

There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. “You didn’t kill him, Louis.”

“No, but I could have.” Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.

Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, “You have to stop seeing them, Louis. They’ll grow fearful of you if they haven’t already.”

“No,” said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s a rite of passage for all of us,” Lestat went on. “If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.” Knowing Lestat’s relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didn’t need to know about that right now, though. 

“My siblings spent many decades looking for me once I ‘disappeared’,” you told Louis. “It hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.”

Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. “I didn’t know you have siblings.”

“Had,” you corrected. “They are long gone now, though many of their children’s children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.”

“I ain’t never gonna have a family of my own, am I?” Louis lamented. “No sons, no daughters.”

It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. “We’re your family, Louis.”

“You should just throw me in the incinerator,” said Louis. “Make another one.”

“What a waste that would be,” Lestat remarked.

You nodded. “And if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.”

“The both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,” said Lestat. “No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening—”

Louis frowned. “Sound like trash to me—”

“—as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become. You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. We’d have it no other way.” Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.

“Yes,” you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. “Louis, hon, I don’t want to force you not to see your family. You’re free to tell them the truth if you’d like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murderer—because they certainly won’t see you in the same way we do. I’m just saying… letting them go may be the less painful option.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right. 

“Here’s an idea… let’s take a holiday,” ventured Lestat. “What about Rome?”

“Rome sounds lovely,” you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.

“Rome? Rome, like, Italy?” Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers. 

“Would you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?” Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.

“I can’t just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!”

You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. “I’m sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.”

Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.

Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera. 

“I can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,” you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. “I can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paints—”

“Don’t go,” Louis blurted, interrupting you. “Don’t—not yet.”

For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasn’t sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didn’t mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I won’t leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some point—it’s important to see more than America, Louis.”

“With that, I concur,” Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. “Come, my darlings, I’ve had suits made for us.”

There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby. 

Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that evening’s supper.

Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake. 

Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louis’ mind was adrift.

“Louis, this is meant to be a vacation,” you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.

“How can it be a vacation when he’s in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?” Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.

“Lestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesn’t affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.”

Louis crossed his arms. “You have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he just—that man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!”

“The same could be said for the people I’ve killed,” you replied easily.

“No, no, it’s different!” he vehemently said. “You killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, he—”

“I know,” you said, tone firm. “Louis, I know.”

“Do you, though?” Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. “Why do you do this, Lestat?”

The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. “Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Louis. “You don’t have to humiliate him like that.”

In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, “Well, I don’t say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!”

You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. “Will you two stop it? All this yelling and drama—this was meant to be a vacation!”

“How can it be a vacation when we haven’t even left this damned country?” Lestat bitterly replied. “I should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.”

“You don’t mean that,” you angrily said, volume rising. “You’ve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you haven’t changed a single bit!”

Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying man’s last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watch—though you didn’t stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singer’s blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched. 

[amiableness]

Hockey!James Potter x Lupin!Reader ❆ 847 words | thank you to @pizzaapeteer & @moonpascal for reading! you’re both angels <3

series masterlist ; main masterlist

The sharp scrape of skates cutting through the ice and the booming commands of the coach blend with the hollers and laughter of the players. It’s chaotic, but years of attending practice has taught you to tune it out, your sole focus on your psychology homework. Well it should be, instead your eyes keep drifting up to number seven—James Potter, your brother’s best friend.

They’re just warming up, and yet you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from him.

Watching James on the ice was nothing short of mesmerizing. It baffled you how he managed to track the puck so effortlessly, his movements sharp and precise—he was almost as fast as the damn thing. You’d never admit it to anyone, but during games, you could hardly take your eyes off of him. The way he raked his fingers through his damp curls, his chest rising and falling as he hauled himself onto the bench—it was addicting. And the fights. Seeing James Potter rough and unyielding stirred something in you that you didn’t want to analyze. Every time he ended up in the penalty box, his chest still heaving, curses tumbling from his lips, you found yourself shifting in your seat, heat creeping up your neck. 

With a reluctant sigh, you tear your gaze away, knowing full well that if you didn’t stop, James would catch you—and you’d never hear the end of it.

With your legs propped up, feet resting on the chair in front of you, you highlight your psychology textbook, trying to focus. You're falling behind, and you can't help but feel that your lingering gaze on James isn't exactly helping.

Just as you’re getting into the flow, a sharp thwack against the clear barrier jolts you from your thoughts. You glance up to find your brother’s best friend standing on the other side, his stick in hand as he taps it against the barrier. Sitting so close to the rink, he’s only a few feet away, his presence impossible to ignore. You know he should be warming up with the rest of the team, but like clockwork, every practice, he manages to find you first.

“I missed you last Wednesday.” James calls out, flashing you that familiar, irresistible grin—the one that always seems to dare you to react. As usual, you send him an indifferent glance. It’s a game the two of you have been playing since the day you met four years ago: James flirts with shameless persistence, and you brush him off like it’s nothing. But deep down, you can’t help the secret thrill that warms your chest every time he tries. 

“I had somewhere to be.” Your tone is disinterested, but there's an undeniable tug in your stomach at the thought of him being disappointed by your absence.

“If you tell me you went on a date, you’ll break my heart.” He says it with that trademark cocky grin, running a hand through his damp hair and for a moment, you catch yourself staring—fighting the thought of how effortlessly good he looks and how badly you want to tug on those curls.

You didn’t have a date, and you weren’t at practice because you had to study for an exam. But you’re not about to admit that the real reason you haven’t been productive with your studying these past couple of months is because you’ve been too busy watching him play.

“Not like you don’t have a shortage of girls to comfort you.” You glance back down at your textbook, willing yourself to focus—looks like tonight will be spent finishing this up, after all.

“I can’t believe you think I’d want any other girl besides you, angel.” Your stomach flips, and your eyes snap to James, surprised by the sudden rush of heat. You quickly clear your throat, but he’s already grinning, clearly pleased with the faint flush he’s managed to pull from you. There’s my girl, he thinks, the smug satisfaction evident in his gaze.

“Potter!” Coach calls sharply, and your gaze flicks over to the displeased figure standing on the other side of the rink, eyes fixed firmly on James. “Get your ass back on the ice!”  

James doesn’t move, his eyes still locked on you. You raise an eyebrow, pointing your pink highlighter towards the ice. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”  

“Promise you’ll wait to talk to me after?”  

You roll your eyes, struggling to suppress the tug at the corner of your lips by biting down on your lower lip. “You know I’ll be here. I have to wait for Remus anyway.”  

“Just promise me, angel.” His tone softens, that same familiar charm slipping back into his voice.  

You sigh, trying to fight the way your heart skips a beat. “I promise.”  

James flashes you a wide grin before skating off, and Coach shakes his head disapprovingly, muttering something under his breath. You try to look away, but your gaze lingers on James a moment longer than you'd like, the flicker of embarrassment creeping in as you realize just how long you’ve been watching him.

next blurb <3

please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[fanficlolsblog]

THE CO-STAR

back to my main masterlist

pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

warnings: none.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

part 2

The set of Wednesday buzzed with the usual hum of activity as cameras rolled and crew members scurried around. I, Y/N, had grown accustomed to the frenetic energy that accompanied a day on set. However, today was different. Jenna Ortega and I had another love scene to film, and despite our professional demeanor, there was a palpable tension between us. It wasn't the sort of tension that adds spice to a performance; it was more like an icy chill that made every interaction feel awkward.

Jenna and I had never quite clicked. It wasn't as if we openly clashed; it was more a matter of unspoken animosity. She rarely looked me in the eye, and when she did, it was with a cold, guarded expression. I had heard murmurs among the crew that she wasn't thrilled about our on-screen relationship, but I had hoped that we could set personal differences aside for the sake of the show. I wanted to believe that we were professionals who could separate our private feelings from our work. It seemed, however, that Jenna had other ideas.

Today, we were set to rehearse a scene where her character, Wednesday, pulls my character in for a quick, passionate kiss. Tim Burton, our eccentric and demanding director, was in high spirits, throwing his creative energy into every detail. But there was an undeniable undercurrent of tension as Tim directed us to run through the scene.

"Alright, let's do it from the top," Tim instructed, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Remember, this kiss is supposed to be intense, full of emotion. Wednesday is making a bold move."

Jenna and I exchanged a brief glance. Her expression was unreadable, but I could sense a tightness in her posture that suggested discomfort. As we moved into position, Jenna's cool demeanor was evident. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.

"Action!" Tim called.

The scene required Jenna's character to seize the moment and pull me in for a heated kiss. I was ready; I had prepared for this scene, knowing it would demand a lot of us both. But Jenna, as she stepped in, seemed to carry an extra layer of reluctance.

As our lips met, I felt an immediate shift. What started as a forced peck transformed into something far more electric. Jenna's kiss was not just passionate; it was intense and fervent, as though she was trying to convey something beyond the script. Her hands moved from my shoulders to my head, holding me as if she were anchoring herself. I could feel the sudden and surprising intimacy of her touch. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, a reaction I hadn't anticipated.

The kiss felt like fireworks. Jenna was lost in the moment, forgetting the cameras, forgetting Tim's presence. Her lips were warm, her touch commanding. For a brief moment, it felt like she was pouring all her hidden emotions into that kiss.

"Cut!" Tim's voice rang out sharply, pulling us both back to reality. We pulled away, breathless. I could see Jenna's face flushed with a mix of surprise and irritation. I immediately felt a surge of embarrassment at the sound that had escaped me.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning. "I didn't mean to—"

Jenna managed a forced smile. "It's all good."

But her tone was clipped, and I noticed that she was avoiding eye contact. The rest of the day was a study in avoidance. Jenna seemed to deliberately keep her distance from me. She spoke only when necessary and made no attempt to bridge the gap that had widened between us.

It was frustrating and painful. The dynamic had shifted so suddenly, and it was clear that Jenna's reaction to the scene was affecting her beyond just a professional level. Despite her earlier attempt to be courteous, it was evident that she was uncomfortable.

When we wrapped up for the day, Jenna's departure was abrupt. She didn't linger to chat or exchange pleasantries as she usually would; instead, she hastily collected her things and left without a word. I was left standing there, a bit dumbfounded and more than a little hurt.

In the quiet of my dressing room, I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. The kiss had been intense, and Jenna's reaction afterward was confusing. It was hard to decipher whether her reluctance stemmed from personal feelings or just the overwhelming nature of the scene itself. I knew that the kiss was supposed to be a dramatic moment, but it felt like it had crossed into something more complex, something that neither of us had anticipated.

I tried to focus on my work and the scenes ahead, but Jenna's avoidance was a lingering distraction. I hoped that with time, we could talk things through and address whatever had happened. It was clear that the kiss had stirred up more than just the usual performance issues. The intensity of the scene had somehow become a real and unsettling force in our interactions.

As I walked out of the studio, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and hope. I wanted to believe that Jenna and I could overcome this awkward phase. After all, we were both committed to making Wednesday a success, and that required teamwork and understanding.

But for now, the tension between us was palpable, and the road to reconciliation seemed long and uncertain.

[woewriting]

cherry lips

pairing: wednesday addams | reader warnings: mdni! ooc wednesday/soft wednesday, established relationship, implied sex at the very end, no pronouns used but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. word count: 1521 a/n: i'm late for wdw, i know, but i couldn't let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right?

masterlist

When you moved to the small town of Jericho and started working at the only coffee shop around, you didn’t expect to get anyone’s attentions, especially from the local “freaky”. Wednesday Addams was full of surprises and secrets and, apparently, everyone here knew a bit about her.

Gossips followed you around like fog in the morning after a raining night, the eccentric Addams always being the subject that echoed inside the brownish walls of the café.

“I’ve heard she eats raw meat,” a high school student dressed in black and blue uniform said to her friend, no caring enough to at least whisper.

The other just nodded, not paying attentions to her surrenders, not even when the little bell above the entrance door jingled.

“My father told me her dad killed someone in Nevermore when he was a student… imagine being the daughter of a killer.”

“Imagine being the daughter of a former police officer who was expelled from the police force for not being able to solve a simple case that happened more than 20 years ago.” The tranquil voice caught your attention, causing you to turn on your heels behind the counter.

Wednesday was standing next to the table where the two students sat, arms crossed and a deadly shine in her eyes. You smiled.

“Miss Addams, please stop terrorizing the small girls, they know nothing about life,” you spoke once you saw the reddish color in the girls’ cheeks.

“They better learn fast; life is not gentle.” She turned her head to you. “And neither am I.”

“Oh, should I fear for my life?”

You tilted your head, trying to get Wednesday’s attention in order for the girls to go back to the other students of Nevermore. The raven girl redirected her body towards you, taking steps until she was standing in front of the cashier.

“You most definitely should.”

Head motioning for the girls to leave, you placed both of your hands on the icy, black marble that covered the top of the counter.

“If I die, who’s going to make you your favorite cherry muffin?”

“Before I met you, I survived just fine without the sweetness of it in my daily life, I’m positive I can do it again once you’re gone.” She lifted her chin. “Now stop staling and bring me a double espresso, no sugar and a cherry muffin before I start terrorizing you instead.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as she turned to sit on the costumery table.

Putting the cherry muffin in a plate, you turned to the Italian coffee machine with an empty white mug in hand and freshly brewed coffee in the other.

As the bitter liquid slowly filled the porcelain, flashes of the first time you were face to face with Wednesday took over your memory. She was so small in her black and white Nevermore uniform, looking like an old school cartoon, disappearing behind the other students as she patiently and quietly waited in line to order. She stared at you, taking two steps ahead when the last person in front of her moved away with their order in hands, taking a seat with the others, black eyes that didn’t blink and looked dead, the pale white skin didn’t help either. Not a single mark on it, you noticed, except for the adorable freckles that spread over her small nose bridge and covered the surrounding area of her cheek bones.

She was polite and calm, unlike the others, speaking in a monotone voice that actually surprised you.

Wednesday ordered a small size espresso with no sugar. You offered her a muffin, freshly out of the oven and still warm. She was reluctant in saying ‘yes’ at first, but something in you convinced her.

Once the mug was filled, you placed it side by side with the muffin, smiling and murmuring a small ‘I hope you like it’, to which she replied with: “Thank you,” extending her hands to take the plate and mug of the counter.

She looked at the red-blood muffin before looking at you, giving you a small nod of her head before walking to an empty table.

You watched as she sat herself down and stared at the small cake in front of her, you licked your lips, curious to know if she would like it or not; it was your favorite, after all.

Wednesday tilted her head to the side, analyzing the sweet in front of her, internally admiring the color of it and how the powdered sugar on top of it reminded her of snow covered in blood.

Taking the wrap of it, she hesitantly took a bite of it, slowly chewing it. You bet your lips, anxiously standing behind the counter. She then took another bite, and another one, and another one, rapidly finishing the muffin.

You smiled to yourself, finally changing the focus of your attention.

Now, almost 7 years of the first interaction, you still secretly admired Wednesday as you waited for the coffee to fill the small sized mug. But now was different, she started drinking a double espresso to maintain her brain awake and cherry muffins became a part of her daily life.

But only if it was made by your hands.

Once the porcelain turned bitter black, you left your place from behind the corner and sat them down in front of the goth, taking the empty seat in front of her.

“Thank you,” Wednesday said simple, eyes focused on the yellowish pages that had all her attention.

“A new case?” You asked, curious, taking a look around the nearly empty coffee shop.

“A runner found two dead bodies in the woods on Saturday, the captain assumed I’d be interested and gave me the case this morning.”

You pursed your lips, a tight knot in your stomach as your eyes analyzed the super graphic images that decorated the table. Pushing the images away from your point of view, you wondered how Wednesday could eat the red-blooded muffin while looking at actual blood.

As if she could read your mind, black painted nails reached for the small cake, her eyebrows sewing together once she saw what you did, “Care to explain what this is?”

You pursed your lips, containing a smile. On top of the sweet, a white skeleton’s head was drawn, black, deep-hollowed eyes filled with dark chocolate chips with a sewed-like smile under and dark red blood dripping from its eyes.

“I made it for you, Halloween is near, and I figured you’d like it.”

“I can see that. What I want you to explain is why there’s blood coming from its eyes. Bones can’t bleed, there’s no tissue that can carry blood vessels or veins, it's just bones.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a cupcake, Wens. Just eat it.”

“Fine.”

When she took the first bite, dark red filling dripped onto her hands. It was a mix between the sweetness of sugar and the sourness of cherry combined that only you could do it perfectly.

“So… did you like it?”

Wednesday chewed and swallowed everything, licking her lips to capture the remained syrup, missing a small drop on the corner of her mouth. The tip of her fingers covered in the cherry liquid.

“It’s too sweet, next time don’t add any sugar to it. It’s not healthy. And it’s also too sticky and messy. I need a napkin.”

Reaching out for her hand, you sucked the tip of her fingers, closing your eyes at the sweetness that filled your mouth.

“You don’t need a napkin, you have a girlfriend to clean it for you.”

Wednesday widened her eyes at your action, looking around to make sure nobody saw that. The coffee shop was empty as it was almost noon and everyone was either at work or at school, only the two of you occupying a space inside.

“That was unnecessary.” She said with an affected tone.

“It was very necessary, I needed to see if it was too sweet.” You stood up, taking the empty plate in hands. Before returning to the kitchen, you leaned into her personal space, noses touching and the smell of her perfume filling your senses, that small drop being the only thing you saw in front of you. “You have some here too.”

The moment the tip of your tongue licked the red syrup, so close to her lips, Wednesday grabbed the mug near her hands, squeezing it hard enough to break if it was made of fragile material.

Before standing up properly, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, tasting the sourness in it.

“I’ll make sure the next ones aren’t too sweet for you, cara mia.” You winked, rapidly walking back to the counter to start preparing the muffins for the afternoon clients. And for your bitter girlfriend that cursed you under her breath for fogging up her brain with your tongue, taking away all the concentration she needed to solve this murder case. One that would need to wait after she locked the door, turned the open sign to ‘closed’, and dragged you by the hand to the supply closet.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗖𝗢𝗭𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦, 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N's cozy cottage becomes a refuge for Matt, but it's not just the house that encloses him, but who's inside; OR, where Matt and Y/N are in love, but afraid to confess. Until one day.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @mattscurlygirly

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Los Angeles was buzzing with life when the triplets moved there, looking for new opportunities for their YouTube career.

It was a sunny day, the day after they settled permanently in their own home, when Matt found himself wandering around the local market, on a somewhat clumsy mission to buy fruit and vegetables for a Wednesday video that Nick had come up with. He wasn't exactly an expert in grocery shopping, and the confusion of colors and smells left him a little lost.

It was then that he saw her - Y/N, standing in the middle of the fruit stands, examining a pile of apples with a serene smile on her lips. She radiated a calmness and natural beauty that instantly caught Matt's attention.

With an inexplicable impulse, Matt approached her, determined to overcome his usual shyness.

"Hi, excuse me." He began, nervous but determined. "You seem to know what you're doing here. Can you help me pick some fruit?"

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his in an instant. Her smile widened when she noticed his hesitation.

"Of course!" The girl responded, kindly. "What do you want to get?"

What started as a simple exchange of words quickly turned into a lively conversation. Matt discovered that Y/N was a plant lover and an avid supporter of local agriculture. Her passion was contagious, and he found himself sharing more stories about his own life than he expected.

When it was time to leave, Matt found himself reluctant to leave her.

"Hey, do you want to go out sometime?" He asked suddenly, his courage increasing with each word.

"I'd love to. Why don't you come over to my house on Saturday? We can do something together." Y/N smiled, her eyes shining.

Matt agreed immediately, feeling a bubbling excitement in his chest. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew there was something special about Y/N from the moment he saw her.

A week later, Matt was standing in the doorway of Y/N's house, his heart beating a little faster than normal while waiting for her. When she opened the door, her warm smile enveloped him almost instantly, dispelling all his worries.

As soon as the boy entered her home, he was immediately captivated by the warm and cozy atmosphere. It was as if he had found a refuge amidst the chaos of the city and even the crazy acceleration of his home.

Over the next few weeks, Matt found himself returning to Y/N's house more and more frequently. He couldn't resist the feeling of peace he found there, nor her company.

Gradually, his feelings for her intensified, but he was hesitant to confess. He was afraid of ruining the friendship they had built - and one of the only true ones he had created in the crazy city of LA and among so many celebrities -, and even more afraid of being rejected.

Little did he know, she felt the same way.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The gentle afternoon breeze danced across the fields around Y/N's small home, whispering secrets among the leaves of the trees and caressing the petals of the flowers in her garden. The golden sun cast its rays through the windows, painting the interior with tones of warmth and coziness.

Inside the house, Y/N was busy watering her plants in her kitchen, an activity she considered as essential as breathing. Her refuge was a veritable green paradise, with foliage that hung gracefully from shelves and vines that snaked up the walls.

The sound of soft knocks on the door in a rhythm already very familiar to her took her out of her reverie, and a smile immediately formed on her lips.

"Come in, Matt!" She called, letting out a nasal laugh at his sudden appearance in her home as she continued to water her plants.

Matt opened the door with a wide smile, his blue eyes shining beautifully in the sunlight.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted, entering and closing the door behind him. "How are you? I couldn't send you a text yesterday. We finished recording during the night."

"Better now that you're here." Y/N responded with a playful smile, turning her watering can over and throwing some water towards him.

"Hey, I came in peace!" Matt feigned horror, quickly dodging away, watching the droplets fall on the floor.

"You always say that." Y/N teased, laughing as she put the watering can back in place. "Come on, I made pie. Your favorite."

Sitting down at the kitchen table, they began to talk while eating, as they always did when they were together. It was that easy with Matt. The words flowed effortlessly, and the silence was never uncomfortable.

"Oh, I brought you something." Matt said, taking out a small package from his backpack and placing it on the free space above the table.

"What is it?" Y/N raised an eyebrow while finishing chewing the sweet in her mouth, curious.

"Surprise." Matt replied in a whisper, his smile widening.

The girl opened the package carefully, revealing a pair of small, colorful flower seedlings. Her eyes instantly lit up, rising to his face as a smile gradually grew on her cheeks.

"Matt, they're beautiful!" She exclaimed, holding one of the seedlings gently. "Thank you."

"I knew you would like it." He pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt not to smile like crazy, watching her tenderly, his eyes traveling from her eyes bright with joy to her wide and excited smile.

With Y/N's help, they prepared pots for the new plants, sharing laughter and lively conversations as they worked together. It was crazy how Matt found an immense interest within himself in plants. It wasn't news that he loved nature with all his being, but Y/N awakened something different in him.

As they worked, their fingers occasionally touched, sending subtle shivers down their spines. It was nothing new for them - there was always electricity in the air when they were together, a gentle tension that they both recognized but chose to ignore.

As the sun began to set, they finally finished planting the flowers, admiring their work with satisfied smiles.

"They're perfect." Y/N murmured, looking at the flowers fondly and clasping her hands together in front of her body in admiration.

"Just like you." Matt said softly, his eyes meeting hers.

A familiar warmth spread through Y/N's chest, and she looked away, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. Matt always had a way of making her feel special, even with the simplest compliments.

"You're so silly, you know that?" She said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.

"But it's true." Matt insisted, his smile never wavering.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It was Friday night, the perfect time to escape the routine and get lost in the city's bright streets. Matt parked his car in front of Y/N's house, feeling excitement pulsing through his veins. With a hint of anticipation, he pressed the horn twice in succession, a sharp sound cutting through the stillness of the air.

A few heartbeats later, the door opened and Y/N appeared, observing the car for a few seconds before bending down slightly, looking at Matt in the driver's seat with a mixed expression of surprise and confusion.

"Matt? What are you doing here?" She asked with a frown, her voice thick with perplexity. "Oh my, we had no plans for tonight, right?"

"No, we didn't. But today's video was too stressful to record, and while I left Nick and Chris at home, I thought it would be a good option to drive around for a bit, I needed to clear my head. But it's no fun alone." Matt shrugged, smiling small and raising his right eyebrow, his expression brimming with expectation.

Y/N arched her own, but the mischievous glint in her eyes indicated that she was interested. She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips.

"Why not? I'll get my jacket."

Matt watched as Y/N ran back inside. He knew there was nothing special about just driving around, but the simple idea of ​​spending more time with her was enough to make him happy.

When Y/N returned, he stretched his upper body across the car's console and the passenger seat, pulling the inside handle and pushing the door open, adjusting his posture again and watching her get in and sit down next to himself.

Matt quickly turned on the car after making sure she was comfortable, leaving the familiar streets of Los Angeles behind.

As they drove through the city, they talked and laughed like they always did, the radio playing Y/N's favorite playlist in the background at a low volume, letting the night guide them wherever they wanted to go.

Matt felt at peace next to her, her closeness filling him with a comforting feeling, his mind finally emptying itself of problems and all stress, and focusing completely on the girl he loved.

Suddenly, Y/N's favorite song started playing, filling the car with an infectious beat. Her eyes lit up, a scream of excitement escaping her lips followed by an excited laugh. Her right hand worked on opening the window on her side, allowing the wind to play with her hair.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off her.

As the girl sang at the top of her lungs, her eyes closed tightly, and a beaming smile opened on her cheeks, Matt felt like he was witnessing pure euphoria personified.

He was in a trance, his mouth slightly open, and his pupils almost completely dilated, his heart pounding in his chest.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Matt tried to keep his attention between her and the road, making sure they were safe while Y/N gave herself over to the music and the night, the strong wind circulating through the inside of the car and moving the boy's fluffy hair.

His heart filled with warmth at seeing her so happy, and he knew without a shadow a doubt that he was right where he belonged.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A cool autumn breeze danced through the tree leaves, bringing with it the comforting scent of dry leaves and spices. In Y/N's room, autumn-scented candles cast a soft, welcoming light, serving as the only source of living light, while the warmth of coziness filled the walls.

Y/N and Matt were cuddled up in the double bed under thick blankets, their bodies pressing gently against each other as they watched a horror movie on the television.

A bowl full of freshly baked and fragrant chocolate cookies rested on the girl's lap above the duvet, consequently warming her legs, both of their hands fishing for the treats from time to time.

The atmosphere was filled with the tranquility of an autumn night, Matt's favorite, but the boy struggled mightily to concentrate on the movie as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

The feeling of Y/N's warm skin rubbing against his made his own goosebumps, the natural smell of her hair filled his nostrils, leaving him in a state of almost drunkenness.

As the movie progressed, a scary scene appeared on the screen, causing Y/N to jump in fright and snuggle even more against Matt's chest.

The boy felt a shiver run down his spine almost automatically, and his heart beat even harder in his chest, so that he could hear it in his ears, the sound of the voices coming from the television becoming muffled to him.

When Y/N looked up with an amused smile on her face, ready to make a joke about the scare, she found Matt's eyes already fixed on her in a different way, a good one. There was something there - a quiet intensity that made her own heart race.

Her smile slowly faded, her throat swallowing hard at Matt's intensity.

Their gazes remained fixed for long minutes, or seconds, and before Y/N could find the courage to say anything, Matt raised a trembling hand, taking it to the apple of her cheek, caressing the flushed and warm skin lightly, his expression full of tenderness and emotion.

"Y/N." He whispered, his voice soft to the ears. "I need to tell you something."

Y/N's heart lurched in her chest, her cheeks burning slightly under Matt's touch, feeling anxiety and anticipation rise through her body like a shiver.

"What is it?" She asked just as quietly, barely able to contain the emotion in her voice, the movie already long forgotten.

Matt swallowed hard, summoning all the courage he had within him.

“I love you, Y/N.” The boy confessed, knowing that if he thought twice, he wouldn't say it. His eyes never leaving hers. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone. I would do anything for you, anything to have you."

Matt's words echoed in the room, filled with sincerity and vulnerability. Y/N felt tears threatening to overflow her eyes, a wave of heat flooding her chest.

She wanted to say something, express the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling, but words escaped her, and she knew that in that moment she had gained what her heart longed for most, having him for herself.

Then, in a moment of pure connection, Y/N leaned up, resting her hand on Matt's chest, and finally captured Matt's lips with hers, initiating a sweet, passionate kiss.

Their lips moved in perfect harmony, conveying all the love and affection they felt for each other. Y/N's free hand traveled to the side of Matt's head, playing with his curly hair lightly, as Matt brought his hands to her hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin between his fingers.

When they pulled away seconds later, Y/N blinked long and hard, her eyes shining with tears of happiness, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

"Matt, you are every flower I have ever admired." Y/N muttered, her voice cracking. "That means I love you too. With all my heart."

And there, on that autumn night, under the glow of the candles and the warmth of the blankets, Matt and Y/N could finally allow themselves to feel and love, without fear of rejection, because they already belonged to each other.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @jamiesturniolo @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[rollingsins]

trust me

summary: Reader learns a new spell and decides to test it on Wednesday.  Specifically: Wednesday's strap-on.

pairing: wednesday x witch!reader

warnings: (+18), smut, magic!strap, strap-sucking, strap riding.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: for those who requested more Wednesday. let me know your thoughts and what you want to see next!

“Baby,” You murmur, against Wednesday’s lips, “Stop for a sec. I want to try something.” 

Wednesday pulls back slightly. Her face is framed by her pretty, dark bangs. Usually, they’re perfect. Not a hair out of place. But right now? They’re wild. Strands a mess, jutted slightly to the side and sticking to her forehead. Sweat keeping them in place. 

You’re on your back, Wednesday nestled between your legs. Silicone appendage around her waist, she’s pressed deep inside you. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to you until just now. 

But now it’s all you can think about. 

Wednesday raises herself with her elbows and stops her slow assault of your neck, an eyebrow quirked. 

“Try what?” She asks, only a hint of hesitance in her voice. 

You did this often. 

Bedroom ideas sprung only upon Wednesday in the heat of the moment. You didn’t do it intentionally, but she never seemed to mind that much. 

Last week it had been whipped cream. The week before it’d been a pair of fluffy, pink handcuffs. 

Your girlfriend is a little kinky, though that shouldn’t surprise you by now. 

“I learned something today in class,” You say, a little excited, “Something that I think will make you feel really good.” 

“You learned something about coitus in class?” Wednesday says, sounding concerned. 

You shake your head. 

“Please don’t call our lovemaking ‘coitus’,” You say, wrinkling your nose. Wednesday’s nose also wrinkles, but perhaps from the opposite word, “But you’re going to like this, babe. I promise.” 

You bite your lip. She’s looking at you, a little reluctant. 

You lean up and press a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Wednesday appraises you. Infamously, she doesn’t trust easily. It had been an ordeal to even kiss her for the first time, let alone do this with you. 

But as time had gone on and you’d slowly chipped away at the black coal around her heart, she’d learned to trust you more than anyone else. 

Her eyes soften. 

“Of course,” She says. 

You shoot her a wry smile, and then squeeze her hips. 

“Lay back.” 

Wednesday frowns, but obliges. She pulls out of you, carefully, looking a little aggrieved at the very fact she has to. And then she settles herself on her back, watching as you grip the dildo with your hand. 

You close your eyes. Think hard to summon the words. They’re latin, as most of the spells at Nevermore are. You mumble them quietly, trying to be careful with your pronunciation. 

The last thing you want to do is say the wrong word and turn Wednesday into a table lamp, or something much worse. 

You open your eyes, just in time to release your grip on the dildo. 

It illuminates with light, then, it fades, turning back to its original shade - a deep, royal purple. The only color other than black Wednesday had agreed to buying. 

Wednesday blinks, looking startled. 

“What was that?” She asks. 

You bite your lip. 

“A little spell I learned in class. To make inanimate objects feel.” 

Wednesday’s no fool. She looks up at you owlishly, tilting her head slightly. Her lips purse, but the concern in her eyes melts into a longing arousal. 

She clocks it as you lick your lips, looking down hungrily to appreciate your new toy. She swallows, body tensed as you reach out and touch her, like she’s ready for what’s about to come. 

Still, the moment your fingers brush the head of the shaft, she gasps. 

“I don’t think Principal Weems’ intention was for you to use her lessons in this fashion.” Wednesday says, trying - and failing to sound logical. Her eyes are dark, her red lips firmly clenched between her teeth. 

You grip a little harder and watch as her eyes jerk closed. 

“Does that feel good?” You ask. You stroke down, gently, arousal flooding through you at the look on her face. Her eyebrows are drawn, her mouth open. You know she can feel everything. Every touch of your fingertips. Every slight stroke. 

As if the dildo is now a part of her. 

“Yes.” She pants. She sits up on her elbows, all faux concern gone, now firmly off her high horse, “Don’t stop.” 

You lean down and press a kiss to her hip. 

“You know what’ll feel even better?” You ask, voice coy, but you don’t give her time to respond. 

And then you dip down and take the head of the dildo into your mouth. 

She draws a sharp breath, head tilting back onto the pillow. 

You taste your own arousal, tinged with a little of that sharp silicone taste. 

Usually, this isn’t something the two of you did. Blowing silicone seemed pointless, most of the time. But now? With Wednesday writhing and moaning under your mouth, maybe it’s something you’ll do more often. 

You suck gently, rubbing your hands along the inside of her thighs. 

She groans, as a fresh trickle of wetness elicits from between her thighs, coating your fingers. You suck down a little harder, wanting more. You miss her taste, and quickly release the dildo with a gentle pop, leaning down to clean up the mess of her thighs, mouth watering at her salty wetness. 

She makes a noise of disapproval. 

“Be patient,” You chide, nipping her inner thigh with your teeth, “Enid won’t be back for hours, I’m going to play with you all afternoon.” 

Wednesday moans as you press a kiss to the base of the dildo, where it meets the straps, and then trail your tongue up to take her once more into your mouth. 

You suck a little more forcefully, now, wanting to hear the sweet harmony of moans and sighs and gasps only going down on her elicited. 

She doesn’t disappoint. Her hips press up, trying to feel as much of the wet heat your mouth provides as possible. Her hands use your hair like reins, like she’s a jockey trying to ride you as fast as she can. 

The noises she makes are glorious. Breathy moans, short, quiet gasps. 

And then a low groan when you pull your mouth away, sliding up her body to meet her lips. 

“Darling,” She says, sounding much more composed than she looks. Eyes wild, hair messy. Her lips, stained deep red with your lipstick, “Please don’t stop.” 

You smile and kiss her. 

Affectionate names aren’t her forte. In fact, the only time you get a ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’ or ‘baby’ is when she’s like this. Naked, wet, begging for more. 

“This is going to feel much better,” You say as you climb atop her body, positioning the head of her cock at your entrance, “I promise.” 

Her hands find your hips. 

You’re wet, comically so, and so the dildo slides in with ease. Your belly coils. The stretch of her filling you up feels insanely good. 

But the way Wednesday gasps out feels better. 

Her eyebrows knit, her grip on your hips tightens. She pants as you take her to the hilt, as deep as you can take her. She lets out a shaky breath as you lean down and press your lips to her jaw. 

“You’re not going to cum in thirty seconds are you?” You tease. 

She looks up, eyes locked in furious concentration, “Be quiet,” She orders, but there’s no edge to her voice. It’s strangled, although if she doesn’t use every braincell in her body to focus, she’ll do exactly that. 

You ignore her, and rise up, slamming back down against her hips. The movement sends shockwaves through your body. 

Wednesday curses, a fresh bead of sweat forming at her forehead. She sinks back into the mattress, gasping slightly as you gyrate your hips against hers. 

“It’s a dildo, baby, not a real cock,” You tease, slamming down into her once more, “You can cum if you want, it won’t get soft. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging me to stop.” 

Wednesday closes her eyes, her grip on your hips lessening. You lean down and press your lips to her neck, licking and biting and enjoying the salt of her skin as you fuck yourself down onto her. 

You’re going too fast now, you realize all at once. In your effort to make Wednesday cum in under a minute you’d forgotten exactly how good this feels for you. This time, it’s you who moans out as the tip of the dildo brushes your g-spot. 

Wednesday doesn’t miss it. 

Her eyes open slightly, sparking with opportunity. You slow your pace, only slightly, trying to be subtle but her hands grab at your waist, a little rough. 

The arousal in her eyes is suddenly tinged with mischief as she takes control. 

Her hips drive up at a furious pace. You cry out, almost losing your balance, but Wednesday's grip on you steadies you. The bed squeaks, debauched sounds of her bare skin hitting yours rings out. 

She grins as you lose your composure. 

“Seems like you’ll be the one cumming in thirty seconds.” She murmurs. 

You moan, dropping down to bury your head in her neck. Her hands reach down to grip your thighs, prying you open to her. 

You gasp as she pounds into you, and through your blurry, lust filled haze, you can’t help but have the last word. 

“Two minutes,” You moan into her ear, “But nice try. For a beginner.” 

That does it. 

If Wednesday’s assault was hard before, it’s positively ruthless now. She doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. Hard, calculated thrusts as she fucks you, using your hips to bounce you up and down her cock, each thrust making you cry out in pleasure.  

She reaches down between your bodies to rub your clit and slams her hips up into you furiously. 

You cum with a final, relentless thrust, and a long, loud moan into her ear. 

Your entire body flashes white, orgasm ripping through you. The tips of your ears redden, your nipples painfully hard, your clit throbbing. And as you squeeze around her, you feel Wednesday’s body tighten and then a quiet, low gasp as she cums hard against you. 

Her entire body shakes, her movements against you still. 

You’re breathing a little heavily as your body thrums with the quiet satisfaction of your orgasm. Wednesday’s eyes are locked shut, her grip on your hips unrelenting. 

You wait a moment, enjoying the sharp beat of her pulse and the way she nestles herself into you, arms moving to lock around your waist. You press a gentle kiss to her chest and grin up at her. 

“Told you that would feel good.” You say, nuzzling your head into her neck. 

“It was an enjoyable sensation.” Wednesday admits, and you beam. 

“Does that mean you want to do it again?” You ask, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You’re not sure it works. 

Wednesday peers down at you, introspection on her face. 

Then, you let out a quiet squeal as she takes you by your hips and flips you onto your back. 

[poisonlove]

Beauty and the Beast | w.a

Pairing: wednesday addams x reader

Words: 15k

Warning: reader unsure about her appearance

I felt lonely, so lonely.

But I couldn't risk anyone being scared by my appearance, I couldn't risk receiving mockery and laughter for what I hide beneath the mask. I had to protect myself and others from the horrible monster that I am.

Not even Eugenie, one of my few friends, knew my true face, and I don't think he'll find out anytime soon. Enid tried a couple of times, but after my umpteenth No she gave up, which I'm grateful for.

Why did it have to happen to me? Why do I have to feel scrutinized because of the mask I wear? Damn it, there are vampires, mermaids, and even people without mouths, and yet I'm the only strange one in Nevermore?

"Y/n, have you heard that a new student has arrived?" Eugenie smiles with all thirty-two teeth as he walks beside me, his eyes gleaming with happiness at the news. "Is it really important?" I ask timidly, biting my lower lip amused by his reaction.

"An extra girl is always welcome," he sighs dreamily. "Maybe she'll even like bees, don't you think?" He asks hopefully.

I tilt my head to the side and watch Eugenie smile widely, hope in his eyes. "I…" I start, feeling a  pressure in my chest from his enthusiasm, "I guess so?" I say, chuckling timidly, not wanting to spoil my friend's good mood.

"I mean, I adore you, really," Eugenie says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "but having one more girl in our group would be cool!" He says, analyzing me carefully.

"It's just the two of us… We're not even a trio, and you're talking about a group?" I roll my eyes at his comment, and Eugenie gives me a friendly elbow on the side.

"There's no use rolling your eyes, you know I can see you, right? I mean… besides your mouth, and the other thing that can be seen under the mask," he says sing-song, looking at my mask reluctantly.

"And anyway! We're three!" The boy pouts adorably.

"Really?" I ask in surprise, and Eugenie nods. "Enid," he says, smiling in love at the mention of the blonde werewolf.

I open my mouth ready to retort, but I just ended up sighing loudly.

"Y/n," I turn towards the sound of the voice and see Enid gesturing for me to come closer to her. I raise an eyebrow with confusion and look at Eugenie shrugging indifferently. "Go on, I'll go check on my bees," he says, giving me a pat on the shoulder and walking towards his target, humming a tune.

I approach Enid, who smiles excitedly. "Hi Enid, everything okay?" I ask with a small smile on my lips.

"Y/n! I finally found you!" Enid exclaims, "I have some great news to tell you. You see, the new student is named Wednesday Addams and she'll be my new roommate!"

I feel a knot in my stomach at the thought of facing a new acquaintance, but I try to remain calm. "Wednesday Addams?" I repeat, trying to hide the anxiety that begins to creep up inside me.

"Exactly!" Enid confirms enthusiastically, "It would be fantastic if you two could become friends. I know you're a bit reserved, but I'm sure you'll get along well together!" The blonde smiled widely, her blue eyes looking at me attentively.

I try to mask my discomfort in front of Enid's enthusiasm, but inside, I feel a growing sense of unease. It's not fear, it's just a deep reluctance to interact with new people, especially when I have to hide my true identity behind a mask.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" I ask uncertainly, the memory of Yoko staring at me strangely still vivid in my mind, sending shivers down my spine. I look at Enid curiously, seeking reassurance.

"With Yoko, it was just a small mishap," Enid replies, laughing nervously, able to read what I was thinking during my silence. "It's not your fault if you're so different."

"Right," I mumble to myself, still troubled by the memory of the episode with Yoko.

"I think it'll be different," continues Enid, placing her hand on my arm and starting to walk towards our dorms, "Wednesday has a… special character. You might like her," she adds with a broad smile.

"Are you telling me she's strange?" I ask, feeling offended by her description. Enid looks at me sideways, trying to reassure me.

"No, I didn't mean that," Enid clarifies, "just that she's also shy, and I think you two could get along," she concludes, smiling happily.

"But do we have to go now?" I ask with a worried tone, feeling the need to mentally prepare for the impending meeting. "Of course! I talked about you when she arrived, I think she's writing now," Enid babbles thoughtfully.

"She's writing?" I ask incredulously, a small smile threatening to spread across my lips. The thought of someone actually writing seems surreal to me.

"You see? You haven't even met yet and you already have something in common," Enid says, smiling kindly and looking at me with eyes overflowing with happiness.

As we head towards Ophelia Hall, nervousness grows inside me and my hands start to sweat. My heart beats faster and faster as the moment of meeting Wednesday approaches. I don't know what to expect, and the uncertainty makes me even more agitated.

Enid opens the door and my eyes immediately fall on the room divided in half by a black ribbon, separating two opposite worlds. Enid's side, bright and colorful, contrasts sharply with the darkness of the opposite side.

"The room is… Different," I say timidly, blinking in disbelief.

"Yeah, I was mad the first time too," Enid says with a reluctant sigh, evidently annoyed by the division of the room.

"Wednesday! I want to introduce you to someone," Enid announces, turning her gaze to her roommate on the other side of the ribbon.

Wednesday, focused on the typewriter, emits a small grunt before turning towards us with a rigid and impenetrable posture.

Her dark hair is braided into two impeccable braids that fall on her shoulders with precision and order. Her face is pale, almost ethereal, but her eyes are intense, deep, and penetrating. Her posture is rigid, but she exudes a silent confidence, as if she is aware of her inner power. The air around her seems filled with mystery and fascination, and even though her gaze is cold and distant, there is something about her that attracts and fascinates. It's as if she's enveloped in an aura of darkness, yet at the same time of strength and determination.

Her black eyes scan my figure, and I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks with embarrassment. Thank goodness Wednesday can't see it. I breathe deeply, relieved.

"What is she?" Wednesday asks with sharp curiosity, analyzing me with her gaze.

"Wednesday! You need to be more polite," Enid scolds her, but Wednesday ignores her with indifference.

My heart begins to beat faster as Wednesday approaches me, nervousness growing with each step she takes. Her presence, even silent, seems to envelop me in an atmosphere of mystery and tension, making me feel as if I'm under her scrutinizing gaze.

"You're not a vampire, a werewolf… not even a mermaid…" she mutters softly, her eyes scrutinizing mine intensely.

Her gaze is piercing, full of determination and fascination. "What are you?" she repeats, her voice neutral but curiosity palpable in the air.

I feel cornered, a knot forming in my throat, tightening.

Spontaneously, Wednesday reaches out and places her hands on my face, the tips of her fingers delicately touching my mask.

"Don't," I say in a low but sharp voice, trying to dissuade her.

Wednesday tilts her head slightly, ignoring my request, and brushes her fingers against the mask, exploring its texture with curiosity. Her hand wraps around my mask, and the contact sends shivers down my spine.

My breath becomes irregular as Wednesday continues to examine my mask with care, as if she wants to unveil the secret hidden beneath it. The touch of her fingers on my skin makes me feel vulnerable, exposed to her penetrating gaze.

"Please, stop," I whisper again, trying to control the agitation in my voice.

Wednesday doesn't seem at all disturbed by my request, continuing to explore the mask with an almost scientific curiosity. Her impassive face betrays no emotion, but I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I feel increasingly exposed in front of her.

"Wednesday, stop," says Enid firmly but gently, approaching us. "Y/n has her reasons for wearing that mask, and it's not right for you to force her to reveal it if she doesn't want to."

Wednesday turns to Enid, her cold and distant gaze piercing through her. "I'm not forcing anything," she replies calmly, "I'm just trying to understand."

Enid stands between me and Wednesday, shielding me with her body. "I understand, Wednesday, but there are better ways to get the answers you seek," she retorts, trying to defuse the situation.

I feel relieved by Enid's support, but at the same time anxious about how the situation will unfold.

After a moment of tense silence, Wednesday turns her back and walks away, heading towards the desk with measured steps. A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I sink into a nearby chair.

"What an embarrassing moment," I say with a nervous smile, trying to break the ice.

Enid approaches and places a hand on my shoulder with an expression of solidarity. "Don't worry, Y/n. Wednesday can be a bit… intense at times," she comments with a half-smile.

"You said it," I reply with a small smile, grateful for Enid's support.

On the other side of the room, the incessant ticking of Wednesday's typewriter continues unabated, creating a constant background to our conversation. Her silent presence seems to have added a new dimension to the room, making it even more charged with mystery and tension.

"What do you say we go for a walk outside?" Enid suggests, trying to distract my mind from tumultuous thoughts.

"That sounds like a good idea," I respond with a grateful smile, happy to escape from that tense atmosphere. We rise and leave the room, leaving behind the constant ticking of Wednesday's typewriter.

She seems like an interesting girl I thought to myself

but she really doesn't give up

(…)

Weeks have passed since that first tense encounter with Wednesday, yet her obsession with uncovering what lay beneath my mask showed no signs of abating. Occasionally, during classes or in moments of break, I catch her staring at me with her piercing gaze, as if she wanted to pierce through the fabric of my mask and read my deepest thoughts.

Wednesday doesn't give up easily. She made various attempts: sending anonymous messages, appearing out of nowhere at the most unexpected times, sending Things, and even trying to remove my mask with a sudden gesture. Her questions become more frequent and casual, as if she wanted to uncover my secret through the most mundane conversation.

Flashback

During a break between classes, while I was sitting alone in a corner of the cafeteria, I felt a presence approaching. I looked up and saw Wednesday with her mysterious and aloof demeanor.

"May I sit here?" she asked calmly, indicating the seat across from me.

"Of course, go ahead," I replied, surprised by her sudden company.

Wednesday sat down with a fluid and silent movement, and for a moment we simply looked at each other, without saying a word. Then, without a smile or a greeting nod, she said, "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you," I replied, trying to hide my surprise at finding her there.

That brief conversation remained imprinted in my mind for days, like an unsolved riddle. Yet, despite her seemingly insatiable interest in my mask, Wednesday did not seem at all frightened or disgusted by me. She was just… curious.

Flashback end

But then, without any warning, Wednesday stops altogether circling around me. She no longer approaches me with her questions or scrutinizing looks. I was left to wonder:

was I boring? Rude? Was I just being paranoid?

"It seems like she's gotten tired of you," Enid jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe she's finally realized that beneath that mask, it's just you, and nothing so terrifying."

Enid's joke made me smile, but it didn't completely dissipate the tension that had built up inside me. I was nervous about the various conjectures swirling in my head, and I literally asked myself too many questions that had no answer.

"Thank goodness you found something to laugh about," I remarked, trying to conceal my mood.

Enid looked at me with a sympathetic expression. "You know, Y/n, I think you're reading too much into things. Maybe Wednesday has just found something else to focus on, or maybe she's decided she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable."

I wanted to believe Enid's words, but doubt continued to nag at me. "Maybe you're right," I replied, trying to convince myself.

"I promise that if there's anything to worry about, I'll let you know," Enid said sincerely, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I felt somewhat relieved by her promise, but I knew that until I had answers to my questions, my mind would continue to race incessantly. It was frustrating not knowing what was going through Wednesday's mind, but I had to find a way to stop tormenting myself with suppositions and hypotheses.

That afternoon, I found myself in Enid's room, determined to clear things up with Wednesday. The tension in the air was palpable as I tried to gather the courage to confront the situation.

"Wednesday, can I talk to you?" I asked, trying to stay calm despite my pounding heart.

The girl looked up from the book she was reading and glanced at me with detachment. "Sure," she replied simply, showing no sign of interest. Her eyes returned to the pages of the book she was reading.

"Why aren't you talking to me anymore?" I asked, feeling my voice tremble slightly with emotion.

Wednesday didn't even look up from her book. "I can't be friends with a girl who doesn't show her face," she said coldly, as if it were obvious.

Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. "You can't really think like that," I replied, trying to control my growing frustration. "I'm not just my mask, Wednesday. There's much more beneath it."

Wednesday remained impassive, and her indifference deeply hurt me. "You don't even listen to me," I whispered, feeling my heart breaking.

The girl didn't respond, continuing to read as if I were invisible. Frustration and anger welled up inside me, but in the end, I gave up.

With a sigh, I realized I had to accept the situation for what it was. "Maybe you're right," I admitted softly. "But you can't judge without knowing the truth." Wednesday looked up from her book, looking at me with a certain curiosity. "And what would the truth be?" she asked, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"The truth… I'm afraid," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat as my hands trembled slightly. With determination, I placed them on the mask, ready to reveal what I had hidden for so long.

Damn feelings I developed for you, persistent Goth I thought bitterly.

Wednesday watched carefully, her black eyes scrutinizing my face with intense curiosity. My heart pounded in my chest, silently praying that she would accept what she was about to see.

With a deep breath, I slowly removed the mask, revealing my true face. Behind it, a hideous scar extended from my eyebrow to my cheek, thankfully sparing my eye. It was a wound I had carried for years, a witness to a painful past that I had never shared with anyone.

Wednesday remained still, her eyes fixed on my scar. Her expression was inscrutable, but I could see surprise in her eyes.

The scar was large and deep, and I couldn't help but feel vulnerable as Wednesday examined it. But there was no more room to hide the truth, and I had to accept her judgment, whatever it may be.

Wednesday closed the book and approached me slowly, her gaze still fixed on the scar adorning my face. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and shyness, as if she were unsure of what to do or say.

"Can I touch it?" she asked in a barely audible voice, and I nodded weakly, feeling my cheeks flush at her question.

With cautious movements, Wednesday came even closer, her fingers delicately touching my scarred skin. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact, but it wasn't disgust or fear. It was a feeling of calm and acceptance, as if that gesture meant something deeper than just physical contact.

I looked at her face as she examined the scar. Her eyes were full of empathy and understanding, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. It was as if I had finally found someone who truly understood me, without judging or condemning.

It was hard to believe that all this had happened because I had fallen in love with her. But now, looking at her up close like this, I realized that maybe it was worth risking my heart for someone who made me feel so alive and accepted.

"How did you get it?" Wednesday asked timidly, slightly clenching her jaw as she continued to observe the scar on my face.

My voice trembled slightly. "It was done by my father," I confessed, feeling the lump in my throat tighten. "He was drunk and one night he lost control."

My voice broke slightly as I remembered those painful moments, the fear and despair I had felt. But I knew I had to share the truth with Wednesday, even if it hurt to revisit those memories.

Wednesday gently caressed my cheek, the touch of her fingers on my scarred skin sending a slight shiver down my spine. "Why did you keep it hidden?" she asked with curiosity, her gaze still full of compassion.

"It's horrible…" I replied softly, feeling the weight of my words. "When everyone looked at me strangely or laughed, I decided to cover it up."

Wednesday's finger brushed against the scar on my eyebrow and a shiver ran down my spine. It was as if that simple gesture was breaking down the barriers I had built around me for years.

"It makes you strong," said Wednesday, tilting her head to the side as she looked at me intently. "And you're… Beautiful all the same."

Her words struck me deeply, and I felt my cheeks blush slightly at her unexpected compliment. It was hard to believe that someone could find beauty in that ugly scar, but with Wednesday beside me, I began to see myself with different eyes.

"Thank you," I replied sincerely, my heart filled with gratitude for her kindness. It was a moment of intimacy and sharing that I would never forget.

"Does Enid know?" Wednesday asked with curiosity, and I shook my head.

"No," I replied, feeling a shiver of nervousness run through my body.

"Are you afraid of her reaction?" she asked timidly, and I nodded slowly.

"If she says something, I'll kill her," said Wednesday with a serious tone, and I couldn't help but smile, feeling for the first time confident and beautiful for myself.

And beautiful for Wednesday.

[humanitys-strongest-brat]

Kintsugi - ch.4

Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader

CW: themes of injury, depression, and hopelessness. 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: You all know the drill, thank you @tobbi-loves-levi for going over this chapter with me and helping me make it everything I wanted 💗

previous / masterlist / dividers

An inviting herbal scent fills the air in Levi’s office, complemented nicely with a warm room temperature. While outside it’s quite hot around this time of June, the center is pretty consistently freezing; especially the ice rink. The printer whirls behind Levi’s office chair while he leans back with his arms stretched out to catch the papers as they slide out. He gathers them together, tapping them once on the desk before flipping open your file and placing them at the back. The start of your fifth week means you’re more than halfway through your estimated treatment plan with Levi. 

Levi spins the folder around so it’s facing you and scoots his chair in to lean over it, using his pen to point out specific milestones you have reached. “I think we should change our Wednesdays to off ice days for the remainder of our sessions.” He mentions as he flips through the pages. “Keep Mondays and Fridays as our rink days. Sound alright?” You nod in agreement, following Levi's pen as he goes through a loose schedule of goals he wants to reach over the next couple of weeks. 

“Sign here, then we can head down.” He double taps the signature line. “Oh, and you might want to think about reaching out to Tarasov again if you’re serious about getting involved once skating season begins.” 

You hadn’t considered how fast the time has gone by. Skating season starts in July and your sessions with Levi are on route to wrap up in just a few weeks. You should be happy, everything you worked for is starting to pay off and soon enough you’ll be working on getting back into competitions. Bit by bit all of your goals are being met, so why does your heart ache for more time? 

“You coming, or did you want to spend today’s session staring at my desk?” Levi asks. You’re not sure how long you went without responding to him. 

Your mind is elsewhere for the beginning of today’s session while you did your warm up basics, up until you had no choice but to put all of your mental energy into your target goal for today. Levi has you do Waltz jumps until you could do them with your eyes closed. By the time you move onto spins for the rest of your time, you think if you had to do another waltz you’d pull the hair out of your head. That’s the thing about Levi, he understands when something’s too much to handle but once he’s sure you can do it he’s not so easy on you. Funnily enough it’s one of your favorite things about him, and one of the leading reasons you can say you're making progress. He won't let you give up. 

***

On Wednesday you show up early again to watch Levi skate. Even though you know you won't be on the ice today, it’s still nice to be around it. Your fear of being turned away fades when he sees you standing at the boards and continues on with his routine anyways. Erwin shows up shortly after you and stands to your left. You can't help but be curious about him. He and Levi seem close, in fact you’ve never really seen Levi talk to anyone casually outside of erwin. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to start talking, neither of you taking your eyes off Levi. You learn that Erwin is a personal trainer based in the basketball wing of Sina, though he takes clients of any sport. He met Levi seven years ago when he first started working here because surprisingly enough, he’s a huge fan of ice sports. Soon you come to find that Erwin and Levi are a lot closer than you originally assumed. They even hangout outside of work too, though as Erwin put it, “it took some convincing.” With how reluctant Levi is to open up, you believe that. 

Levi finishes off with three consecutive jumps before gliding off towards the rink’s exit to get out of his skates.

“He adds one member to the audience and suddenly pulls out the big moves. Show off.” Erwin huffs out a laugh and thanks you for the pleasant conversation before turning and heading off.

Off-ice starts off as it usually would, stretches, ankle exercises, balance board, and spinners. Somewhere down the line you and Levi were practicing throws again. You don't know how it happened but you don’t care. It’s productive because it still helps you build back the skill of landing on your ankle and get used to the feeling of air time again. You slowly work on adding more rotations before landing and eventually Levi feels more comfortable throwing you higher. 

You dont think you’ll ever get tired of the feeling of Levi’s hands on you. It feels safe, he makes you feel light. No matter what, you're confident Levi would never put you at risk for another injury. There's no wiggle room in competitive figure skating. Everything has its order, but it doesn't feel that way with him. In a way you almost feel like he sets you free from that mindset. Even if it’s only for a small chunk of time each session. The following week, it’s now just an unspoken part of your routine.

***

You quickly learn that time is not a generous thing, the whole next week of sessions goes by much faster than you expected. You blame this on the fact that the more you worked with Levi the better you were getting. Once you started to get a handle on skating again after so much time off the ice it started to become more fun rather than something you needed to do to heal.

Every day that week, you showed up to watch Levi skate before your sessions. When you weren’t completely mesmerized by him, you took the opportunity to watch his form in real time rather than how he would present it to you during therapy. You think that helped you get things down as quickly as you are. 

This week marks the beginning of your last two weeks with Levi, and it’s all that you think about. That’s only six more sessions, two of which aren’t even on the ice. It’s not that you didn't think you were ready, no, you know you are. Levi has talked enough sense into you the last couple weeks to have you sure of that, paired with your progress he showed you in your file. It’s clear that you are recovering and building your skill back to how it was before your accident. It was scary to think about doing this without Levi, you still haven’t taken his advice on reaching out to your old coach. The second you do that it will just feel that much more real. You know how irresponsible it is to put off too, which only made it worse. 

Monday you show up to watch Levi skate as usual, quickly noticing that Erwin isn’t here. When he sees you he skates over to the board to greet you, which he usually doesn’t do. When he meets you at the boards he’s quiet for a moment, you can’t quite read the subtle expression on his face. 

“Do you want to come out here with me?” He asks, his question throwing you off a little.

“What, like early?” You ask. 

“No,” he pauses, brows furrowed lightly. Is he nervous? “To skate.” 

“You want me to skate with you?” 

“That’s what I said. Hurry up before I change my mind.” He says, pushing off the boards and skating off. That’s all you needed to hear. You pick up your bag and rush over to the bench to put your skates on, triple checking the laces before going out onto the ice with him. 

Levi meets up with you in the middle of the rink where you stand. “What should I do?” you ask, feeling lost without your usual directions. 

“Whatever you want.” Levi says “Don’t you ever skate for fun?”

You think about it, and you can honestly say that you don't. You haven’t since your accident and even before you can’t think of the last time you went ice skating for anything other than to maintain or improve your skill. “No.” You shake your head lightly. 

“Ah,” Levi hums “explains why you’re so damn hard on yourself. You know you should kind of enjoy this right?” His words sink deep, he’s right. You watch him as he zips off, all you can think to do is bits of your program from Nationals. You take out more of the extreme moves knowing Levi wouldn’t want you doing anything you haven’t worked much on during your sessions together. 

It’s slow, it’s choppy, but you landed everything you attempted. You stayed balanced on your ankle every time you tried, but it’s so hard to be reminded that it’s not the same. Thoughts creep in swiftly. How could you ever compete again? Especially when even after all the improvement you couldn’t even stitch together a smooth program. 

“It’s almost like you don’t need me anymore.” Levi comments as he meets back up with you. You wouldn’t say it outloud to him, but it only made you feel worse. It seems like Levi knows you more than you give him credit for. He doesn’t expand on that thought, but instead he asks if you want to try one with him. 

You agree, it would make it fun just like the throws you practice. Levi gives you a sequence that’s easy to follow and of course only includes two of the simpler jumps the two of you have worked on together as of recently. Essentially this is a pairs program, which is entirely new to you. 

Levi counts the two of you down to start off together, pushing off in sync you go through the motions with him. He starts off with his hand hovering over your lower back behind you, making sure you stay in line with him. Only when he’s sure you can stay in your path does he pull his hand back, allowing the two of you to go off into your first harmonized spin and jump combo.

After going through the routine two more times it’s almost flawless, even you could tell. You lean over with your hands on your knees “Do you want to try that throw?” You asked through labored breaths, though you were half joking. Levi won’t even entertain it. 

“Absolutely not. You need a break anyways.” You catch your breath by the boards with Levi standing across from you, seemingly unphased by the repeated routine the two of you just did. 

“Have you ever had Erwin come out here with you?” 

“Tried. He says he doesn’t want to become one of my clients.” 

You laugh before taking a drink from your water bottle and setting it back down on the ledge. You find yourself thinking over your routine with Levi again, and his words from earlier. You should be having fun skating and it was clear Levi did so you wonder.

“Do you ever miss competing?” You ask him, nervous that he may not appreciate the question.

“Every day.” His answer was not hesitant this time.

“You should get back into it.” You say softly.

“I can’t.” He replies and you can see by the look on his face it’s hard for him to talk about this. He’s being short, but not unwilling. 

“Are you kidding? Levi, you’re incredible out there.” Your expression softens as you try to be hopeful, maybe he just needs to hear it from someone. 

“That’s not my life anymore.” Out of all the weeks you’ve known him, you’ve never heard him sound so sad. Levi anxiously pulls at the hem of his sleeve before pulling it up and checking his watch “It’s time to start our session.” 

You ease off it, watching as he moves to skate towards the center of the rink. For the first time you don’t look forward to your session, the more you complete the more it dawns on you; your time with Levi is almost up.

That’s when it hits you

An idea.

***

Nervous is an understatement. Honestly, you felt like you were driving yourself crazy. When you came up with this idea, you thought it through a million times. It’s the scariest thing because if it doesn’t work out you’re screwed. You couldn’t keep it to yourself, you needed advice, and who better to ask than your best friend. 

Mikasa shows up around seven, prepared for your agreed upon sleepover plans made on Monday night with a set of comfy clothes and carry out from your favorite restaurant for dinner. When she let you know Friday night works for her you were thankful the weeks were going by so fast. You let her in and head straight to the couch, where you enjoy the meal while you start the first episode of a new series. 

“Well,” Mikasa hums when the two of you mutually decide to take a break from the show. “you’ve been awfully quiet about how it’s going in therapy.” 

You smile over at her, turning your body to face her. “Honestly? It was tough at first, I’m not going to lie. It’s a lot better now.” 

“So Levi didn’t scare you off then?” She jokes. “He won’t tell me anything, says you’re a client like any other so,” she trails off. 

“The opposite actually. He's,” You pause for a moment, breaking your eye contact with Mikasa. “He’s amazing. There’s no way I could have made any of the progress I have without him.” You tell her everything. Your progress in physical therapy, the clever ways Levi challenged your anxiety, even the throws and skating together before your sessions; another thing that became an unspoken addition to your routines with Levi. 

“He even opened up a little bit here and there about some of the things he struggled with after his injury.” You mention, and Mikasa’s eyes shoot open. Genuine shock taking over her expression. 

“Really?” She breathes.

“Just a little.” You say, shrugging. “I don’t know much, just that it seemed hard. I can’t even imagine.” 

Mikasa takes a minute to think about how to respond. “We didn’t see him for over a year. He skipped birthdays, holidays. His mom was sick over it for so long.” Mikasa gets quiet again. “He wasn’t the same for a long time, to this day he won’t speak about it.” It was difficult to hear, but made you wonder why Levi was so different around you. Why would he be more willing to answer your questions over his own family? You were scared more than ever now to bring up the idea you’ve been holding in the whole night.

“It sounds like he really likes you.” Mikasa says. “Seems like he found a friend in you.” It sounds silly, even coming from Mikasa. At the end of the day you aren’t oblivious to the fact that you’re a client of Levi’s, not a friend. As much as you wanted to push back you had more pressing matters on your mind. 

“Can I ask you something?” You brace yourself for the words that are about to come out of your mouth. 

“Sure,” Mikasa says softly.

“It might sound crazy,” You begin nervously. “I was thinking about asking him to be my coach after therapy is finished. It’s a shot in the dark, but I know I can do it with him.” You can’t help but feel like along with advice, you’re also asking for her blessing.

“I think that’s a great idea.” A warm smile spreads across Mikasa’s face, her eyes lighting up.

***

A long sigh escaped your lips as you plop down on the bench, your whole body surging with ache. Levi had chosen the last week of sessions to work on the more advanced jumps and spins. It was more so to make sure he could send you off to your coach confident that you knew what you were doing, and that you would be able to build your skill back up while training for competitions. 

Levi approaches you after he takes his own skates off, bumping your skate with his shoe to get your attention “What’s going on with you.” His tone laced with concern. 

“Huh?” You pick your head up, your confusion painted clearly across your face. 

“Something’s on your mind. This isn’t the week to lose focus.” He says plainly. 

You shake your head, turning your gaze back down and directing your attention back on getting your skates off so there was no chance for him to read your facial expression. Proving him right. “Everything’s fine Levi,” You try to assure him. The truth is, you were trying to wait until the last day to ask him. That way if it went badly you’d never have to face him again. Part of you didn’t even know why you were so worried about it. You set your skate on your lap, dragging a cloth across the blade to dry it before putting it away.

“The past four sessions you’ve been somewhere else. Today you barely even spoke.” His words cut through your chest, you forget how observant he is sometimes. “This is the most important part, I can’t release you unprepared.” 

“I didn’t fall once today.” You point out, in fact your session today felt a lot like your regular training. Just practicing to maintain. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Levi says. “Don’t tell me you’re second guessing about getting back into competitive skating.” 

You zip your bag up after dropping your other skate inside, whipping your attention back up at Levi. “No! Of course not.” You assure. Just looking at him hurts a little, you start to doubt your plan. It would uplift his whole career to take you under his wing, it almost felt selfish. You should be able to do this with Tarasov. Hell, she got you to Worlds the first time. You know reaching out to her this late would earn you being scolded for waiting until the last second. 

Levi’s knit eyebrows relax and he drops his shoulders, visibly relieved. He stands there for a moment before letting out a sigh and giving up. “Fine, come back on Wednesday more sharp.” He turns around and heads off towards the door, picking up his own skate bag as he walks past it. Panic rises to the surface, you wish you could yell out to him, tell him you don’t want to have to do this with anyone other than him. In an instant you decide that you can do just that. You stand up and grab your bag, haphazardly stuffing your feet into your shoes before taking off after him. Your bag swishes behind you every time your shoes hit the ground 

“Levi!” You don’t mean to shout so close behind him. He flinches when you grab his shoulder to stop him, causing him to turn and face you. “I lied, sorry.” you start. 

“Alright. So what is it?” Levi says, one eyebrow raised as he tenses up slightly under your light grasp. 

“Hear me out, okay?” You bite your lip, waiting for his confirmation and continuing when he tilts his head slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot- the whole week actually. I think I’ve made so much progress with you, and I know this is our last week,” You aren’t holding back, and no matter how much your body screams to do so you don’t look away from him. “And I don’t need an answer right away, it’s sort of a big deal so-“ 

“Spit it out.” He cuts you off, his puzzled look now replaced with one of nervousness, eyes wide as he looks directly into your eyes. 

“Levi, please will you be my coach?” You say it, finally able to catch your breath from the combination of sprinting after Levi and rambling with no breaths in between. “Like my real coach, after we finish therapy.” 

Levi stares at you, his jaw slack. He almost looked.. appalled? You wish you knew exactly what’s going through his mind. 

“I know it’s a huge request, like I said. Think about it.” You try. “I think we could take gold, really-“ 

“No.” Levi turns his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Like he is physically unable to look at you. Time stands still, this is by far the worst case scenario that you feared. 

“Wait..” You say in a hushed tone. 

“The answer’s no.” He confirms, lips parted slightly like he wants to say more but nothing comes out. He takes a step back. “Just..I’ll see you Wednesday.” With that he turns completely and walks out, leaving you behind.

Taglist: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @humanitys-strongest-bamf @hideandgopeep 

@thechaoticarchivist @sixpennydame @saccharine-nectarine @martins-rx 

@levisbrat25 

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 3

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: not proofread 😗 sorry

———————————————————————

After Regina’s demand that you help her with her math, you set up an arrangement for you to come over after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. Lucky you.

She’s in the lowest possible math class you can take as a junior, so you don’t think the tutoring thing will be too hard. What you’re really worried about is being at her house. The woods were your turf; Regina’s house was completely different territory. God, you wish you never got caught up in any of this in the first place. Not like it was your fault.

What makes it even worse is that Regina isn’t even bad company most of the time. Sure, she’s a total bitch, but she’s funny and some of her stories are entertaining to listen to. Mostly because they’re so stupid. You’d consider her a friend if you could find an ounce of compassion in her and if she didn’t practically ruin your life at school. You had to start eating lunch in the bathroom because even your group of guitar geeks started to turn on you. It was embarrassing, but perhaps a blessing in disguise since you don’t really like talking to them anyway. It was kind of nice to be ignored sometimes.

On Monday, you go back behind the baseball field anyway. You have no way to communicate with Regina and you doubt she’ll want to be seen with you in the student parking lot, so you wait for her to find you.

This was such a waste of time. Lately it felt like your entire life revolved around her. You’re a pariah at school because of rumors she made up, and then right after the bell rings you’re smoking and laughing with her. Just to go home, sleep, and do it all again the next day. You lay your head back against a tree. The days were starting to get colder.

After a couple of minutes, you almost doze off until you hear the harsh snap of twigs under storming feet. Uh-oh. Regina was pissed.

“What the hell? Are you stupid? Did you forget what day it is?” You hear her before you even see her. If she was gonna be like this, you’d rather just go home. You bite your tongue absentmindedly.

“Aren’t I too embarrassing to be seen going home with?” you respond dryly, but you can’t help but smile a bit. She got mad over the stupidest things. If anyone should be angry, it should be you.

“Obviously. But making me walk all the way back here was cruel.” she says with a small raise of her eyebrows, and you realize she’s not really pissed. You’re not used to her joking with you. You flash her a smile.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you snide, throwing one strap of your bag back over your shoulder.

“Won’t. Anyway, are we going or not?” Regina says with exaggerated annoyance, turning back around with a grace you’ll never have in a million years. She throws her hair over her shoulder and begins to stalk off between the trees.

The drive to Regina’s house is awkward. Mostly because she makes you sit in the back in case anyone were to see you in the passenger seat. Just about everyone in town knew what Regina’s car looked like, so you can’t say you’re surprised.

When Regina finally pulls into her massive driveway, you’re instantly in awe of the giant house that sits before you. You’ve seen it before on Instagram, but never in person. It has elegant pillars and a round shape that makes it look like a giant jewelry box. You grew up on the poorer side, so it feels like a movie to step into a house like this.

“Ugh. You’re acting like Cady, it’s gross,” you hear Regina complain as you look around the inside of the house with wonder. It’s so pristine that it doesn’t even look lived in. How a child was raised here is beyond you.

Regina seems eager to get upstairs, and you realize why when you see a woman round the corner as if she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. You can tell she’s Regina’s mother almost immediately. They both have bleach blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and a sharp face. Regina’s is intimidating while her mother’s is a bit kinder.

“Ooh, who’s this? Definitely not the usual three!” Regina’s mother asks with sparking excitement, taking a few steps towards you and reaching her hands out to cup your face. You’re sure she’s just trying to be nice, but her hands are cold and her attention on you is uncomfortable. Regina’s annoyance is almost palpable in the air.

“She’s just helping me with math, don’t be gross,” Regina spits out, as if the words were bile in her throat. “Please leave.”

“Okay, sweetie!” Regina’s mother says, her voice still light as if Regina’s tone didn’t phase her at all. You blink in shock at the whole interaction as her hands drop from your cheeks. “Let me know if you want snacks later! Slay the day away!”

You cringe a bit at her use of modern slang, but you instantly feel bad. She’s obviously trying her best.

Regina seems to have the same reaction, just without the pity. She immediately purses her lips in annoyance and shepards you up the stairs, apparently urgent to get away from her mother. This is the first and only time you will ever be grateful for Regina.

“God, sorry about that. She’s so annoying. It’s just like being at school; she literally wants to be me.” Regina scoffs, the perfect mix of annoyed and amused. You hardly even hear her anyway just by the sight of her massive room. It’s probably over triple the size of your own and a lot more majestic. It’s almost regal. If you lived in a castle like this, you’d act like a princess too.

Regina throws her bag on the ground and kicks her shoes off. She’s wearing a black leather vest today along with pants of a similar texture. The whole biker aesthetic she’s got going on clashes with her bright pink room, but somehow she makes it work. She looks good in the leather.

She obviously doesn’t want to start right away, but you’re not trying to stay for dinner so you make her get her math stuff out. Apparently, sitting at her desk is too much effort for her, so you both end up sitting on her bed.

She’s taking Geometry, which you don’t know how that’s even possible for a junior, but it starts to make sense when Regina displays not even an ounce of skill when you go through her review packet. If she’s trying to stay on the soccer team, it’s going to take a lot of work on her part. She doesn’t even seem remotely interested in what you’re trying to explain. You’re biting back the annoyance at this point; she could at least make the smallest effort.

“Regina, you’re not gonna learn anything unless you actually pay attention to what I’m saying.” you eventually snap, putting your head in your hands for a moment as you rub your temple. Proofs were basically just logic and she was even having trouble with that. It didn’t help that you were starving and Regina seemed adamant on keeping her mother from bringing the two of you anything.

“I was at school all day, I’m tired,” she says lazily, pushing the side of her head into one of her palms. Her hair furls up into her hand and she looks straight out of a daydream. How she manages to looks perfectly articulated even while annoyed is beyond you.

“So am I, but I’m here helping you instead of in my bed. At your request, by the way, so can you please just help me out here?” You want so badly to snap at her, but she really does look tired. You seriously can’t believe you feel bad for Regina George, whose biggest problem is staying awake while trying to do homework, but you’re tired too so you kinda get it. She’s basically falling asleep in the palm of her hand until she looks up at you indignantly.

“Do you want to play soccer?” you ask, putting your hands in your lap. Have to scare her into doing math somehow.

Regina seems to think for a moment before pursing her lips slightly. “You are so annoying.” she says, but props her head up to look at the packet again. You smile a bit and point back at where you left off.

It takes a while, but eventually you get some terms down. She’s only doing proofs for line segments so far, so you try to explain to her that it’s basically just a set of directions of how to figure something out. She kind of gets it. ‘Kind of’ will keep her on the soccer team, so overall you’re happy with today’s progress.

As Regina puts her stuff back into her bag, you slide off the bed to get your own. You want to go home, but at the same time, you want to pass out on Regina’s bed and never get back up. It was almost comforting in here with the large, soft bed and the colorfully decorated walls. You bet sleeping in that bed would be like drowning in dough.

Regina frowns at you when you stand up and gather your things. Per usual, you pretend you don’t notice to avoid an unsavory comment.

“Where are you going?” she asks. You bite your lip. You guess pretending not to notice isn’t going to work this time around.

“It’s staring to get dark out, I should probably go.” you say with a shrug. You’d probably have to make dinner for your brother tonight.

“Well, duh, it gets dark out, like, super early now.” she complains, looking at you the same way she looks at Gretchen when she says something Regina doesn’t like. “Come on, don’t be a loser. I wanna show you something.”

You like it a lot more when she’s nice to you than when she’s not, and the small smile on her lips makes her look all too innocent. You know this is just how she lures people in; you’d seen it happen in real time with Cady. But if you were aware of it, then you couldn���t be fooled, right? Besides, you want to know what she has to show you. Your brother was old enough to make his own dinner.

“Fine,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes, and Regina gives you an approving smile. You can kind of understand why people at school seek out Regina’s approval so much. It does feel nice to be accepted by her, even if it’s just by the small gesture of staying in Regina’s room a little longer. You’re not dependant on it like they are, however. It’s just nice to not be slandered by her for once.

You sit back down on Regina’s bed as she looks in her closet for something, supposedly whatever she wants to show you. The bed’s so lush it threatens to swallow you. Your eyes watch Regina’s back as she digs through baskets of what you think to be old clothes. You’d always imagined she would have one of those giant walk-in closets that are almost like another room, but her closet looks similar to yours, maybe a bit more modern.

Regina comes back with a big pink book in one hand and a dangerous smile on her lips. You raise an eyebrow at her as she tosses it on the bed, front cover up. It says “Burn Book” in different sized letters that remind you of those ransom notes you see on TV. You raise your eyebrows.

“What is this? Did you make it?” you ask as she plops back down on the bed beside you. You reach a hand out to touch the letters, but Regina slaps your wrist away before you get the chance.

“Obviously, I made it,” she responds snarkily, flipping open the cover. “I kinda forgot about it until we looked through it a couple weeks ago. Now I can’t stop.”

At first you think it’s some kind of scrapbook until you see the text underneath each photo. Calling people bitches, sluts, shrimps, or whichever demeaning name Regina saw fit. It’s demented, but exactly what you’d expect from Regina. It’s almost like having a catalog of every rumor she’s ever made up. Sure enough, you see your name on the next page. The caption on your page is along the lines of what you hear in the halls every time the bell rings.

“So this is where that came from?” you ask, feeling the annoyance bubble up inside of you again. You were beginning to forget about it after hanging out with Regina so much, she almost seemed like somewhat of a friend.

“Come on, don’t act all pissed about it. I thought you didn’t care.” she says, sounding more annoyed you mentioned it than apathetic.

“I punched you. I obviously care.” you snap in response.

What you expect to come next is an apology. You openly admitted that what Regina did hurt your feelings, although it was more of the fact that her rumors drove away all of your friends. She quite literally ruined your social life, even if she does hang out with you now. If you could even call it that. All she does is smoke your weed for free in exchange for her to not further ruin your life.

But she doesn’t apologize. Regina just scoffs then goes right back to flipping through the pages of the Burn Book, completely unbothered. She really doesn’t care. You know she doesn’t really know you, but you thought she knew you well enough to at least feel bad about spreading false information about you.

You should get angry again, storm off like you did the other day in the woods. But all you do is sit there. Why do you care, anyway? You knew she was awful, inside and out, when you made that deal with her. You know she doesn’t care about how her actions affect people, not even her closest friends. Even if she would be nothing without them. It makes sense she would disregard your feelings just the same.

You realize you’re stupid for expecting an apology from Regina. She obviously didn’t care. It’s not like you were expecting to form some kind of bond with her, but you thought she’d at least recognize you as someone decent instead of the predator she’s made you out to be. Maybe it’s unfair of you to expect decency from someone infamous for being intolerable. You sigh deeply through your nose and push yourself off the bed.

“I really should go. See you,” you say, exasperated, slinging your bag over your shoulder and leaving the room before Regina gets the chance to respond. You think she yells something at you, but you’re already halfway down the stairs. She doesn’t follow you.

It was probably a dick move to leave so suddenly, but you had to get out of there. You know you shouldn’t be surprised Regina doesn’t care about ruining your reputation, but you were starting to think she was all right. You roll your eyes. This is so dumb. You shouldn’t even be giving it second thought. This is just the way that it is now, whether you like it or not.

-

By the time you finish walking home, it’s already dark outside. There’s a pot of mac and cheese sitting on the stove, the light still left on in the kitchen. You guess your brother managed to figure it out.

You’re hungry, but so tired from not eating that all you want to do is lay down. You make your way down the hall to your room. You’re sure you’ll find your way to the kitchen sometime in the night.

You don’t bother to change as you lay down on your bed. It seems so insignificant compared to Regina’s giant princess bed that seemed more like laying on the world’s softest stuffed animal. Yours was like a rock in comparison.

You pull your cart out of your bra and take a couple hits, staring up at the dark ceiling. Everything’s already beginning to feel farther away, but it may just be the illusion of the dark. You can’t seem to get Regina off your mind. It was such a random thing to begin your junior year; you’d never imagined you’d fall victim to one of her rumors in such a devastating way. And then the whole smoking after school thing and now tutoring her. It almost felt like Regina wanted to spend time with you the way she always asks you to stay longer than you had to.

It felt rewarding to have her attention. You can kind of understand the dependence everyone at school has to it now. She’s charming in a way that lures people in, only to discard them after she gets what she wants. You’ve noticed the first few signs of Regina trying to do the same to you, but you’re not sure what you can offer her that she doesn’t already have. Either way, you have to be careful. She could just be trying to get more shit on you to spread around. You can’t fathom why; the worst thing you’ve ever done to her is avoid her.

And the fact she didn’t apologize is really starting to bother you. You feel it’s unfair to see someone every single day, smoke with them, tell them the little parts of your day, and then not even feel bad for turning them into an outcast. Maybe it’s on you for even expecting one. This is Regina George, after all. Even if she did treat you like a friend sometimes, which isn’t much better considering the way she treats Karen, Gretchen, and Cady.

Why you’re still thinking about this is beyond you. Maybe you’re not as immune to her manipulation as you thought. Whether it was positive or negative thoughts, you were still thinking about her. It was really starting to piss you off. Just the fact that you didn’t mind her company anymore was enough to make you mad.

You roll over and stick your nose in another blanket. The weed does its job at making you feel disconnected from your body and you’re thankful for it. This whole mess had you thinking way too much. It was stupid.

Maybe you’ll ask for an apology tomorrow.

[kingsbridgelibraryteens]

Reluctant Reader Wednesday: Cat on the Hero’s Lap by Kousuke Iijima and Shiori 

Red is a level 3 hero, who goes on quests with his companions Grace (a level 12 mage) and Aina (a level 10 martial artist). Red is very brave when it comes to fighting monsters like goblins and even dragons. But recently, he’s become the victim of a creature that’s proving to be even more dangerous: a cat who keeps keeps coming over to sleep on Red’s lap. 

Red needs to level up if he’s ever going to help his party with their ultimate mission: to defeat the demon king. But every time this mysterious cat appears, it heads straight for Red’s lap. While the cat is sleeping on his lap, Red can’t fight at all, he can’t level up, and his party is defeated again and again.

Is this cat his friend or his enemy? And does Red have any future as a hero, if he can’t even manage to get around a single cat?

Give this manga to teens who enjoy animals, role-playing games, and stories that will make them laugh out loud!

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

“𝐸𝓃𝑒𝓂𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝐵𝓎 𝑀𝑜𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎”

Steve Harrington X Hopper!Reader

Summary: When Steve Harrington’s family name isn’t enough to get him on the graduation roster, he finds he has seven days to fix his grades or face a repeat of Senior year. He makes a desperate plea for help from the smartest girl in class and his mortal enemy, the daughter of Cheif Hopper. A reluctant deal is struck—after all, they can go back to being enemies by Monday…right?

WARNINGS: Strong language, mature themes, sexual content and eventual smut? Enemies to lovers, angst because of course, Reader’s family has financial struggles, minimal use of Y/N.

MASTERLIST:

i}Monday.

ii}Tuesday.

iii}Wednesday.

ix}Thursday.

x}Friday.

xi}Saturday.

xii}Sunday.

xiii}Enemies By Monday.

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information. 

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant. 

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday. 

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments. 

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her. 

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you. 

"You study too much."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday." 

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day. 

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now. 

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time. 

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not. 

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath. 

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead. 

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities. 

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached. 

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle. 

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet. 

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target. 

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent. 

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged. 

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing. 

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both. 

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive." 

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued. 

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.  

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up. 

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along. 

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side. 

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief. 

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here. 

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you. 

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle. 

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here. 

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one. 

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you. 

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory. 

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own. 

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion. 

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring. 

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row. 

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth. 

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask. 

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you. 

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals. 

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile. 

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery." 

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic. 

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot. 

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind. 

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away. 

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying. 

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying. 

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look. 

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines. 

A lifetime together. 

A lifetime with you. 

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling. 

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag. 

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it. 

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned. 

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer. 

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why. 

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds. 

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words. 

You don't take the hint. 

"I don't feel that way about you anymore." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was fine—it was. 

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio. 

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to. 

This is fine. 

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best. 

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her. 

It is meant to be this way. 

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now. 

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour. 

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance. 

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago. 

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following. 

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her. 

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next. 

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you. 

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore. 

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday. 

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life. 

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure. 

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello. 

How entirely damning. 

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer. 

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood. 

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission. 

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief. 

None of this is. 

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession. 

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back. 

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person? 

Along with the anger settles in hollowness. 

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them. 

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around. 

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern. 

Wednesday doesn't answer. 

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago. 

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday. 

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry. 

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. 

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging. 

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too. 

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids. 

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder. 

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken. 

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

[jungkwok]

friday | fancy dinner | jjk fluff

masterlist | SEVEN

monday | tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday | saturday | sunday

╔═══════════════════▣◎▣═══════════════════╗

pairing: jungkook x y/n

tags: husband!jungkook x wife!reader, domestic, fluff, suggestive!

word count: 383 words

╚═══════════════════▣◎▣═══════════════════╝

“You look gorgeous, babe.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, mouth slightly ajar in surprise as you emerge from your shared bedroom into the living room, wearing the dress you bought together on your honeymoon. You smile at his reaction; despite having dated for 4 years and married for 2, he never fails to make you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. 

He walks towards you, hands instinctively reaching out to wrap themselves around your waist, but you stop him, holding his forearms. 

“We both know that if you start touching me, this dress is going to be on the floor in the next 10 minutes.” You look up at him, giggling at his cute pout: a stark contrast to his expensive suit jacket and black shirt, the first two buttons undone to reveal his neck and collarbone. Always such a tease.

“I’m hungryy, I’ve been dying to go to that restaurant and we’ve finally been accepted from the waiting list! Come onnn,” you plead, swinging his arm with fingers intertwined with his. Your wedding ring sparkles under the chandelier. 

“We could’ve just played the ‘BTS Jungkook’ card and gotten in months ago,” he matches your tone, an amused twinkle in his eyes. 

You playfully smack the side of his arm, “We can’t just use your name like that!”

“If it’s for my girl, of course we can,” he retorts, walking closer and closer to you until your back is against the wall. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into the familiar scent of his skin and hair. He nuzzles his face into your neck.

Forgetting your previous reluctance, you close your eyes and submit yourself to him as Jungkook starts littering soft, butterfly kisses, from your ear down to your collarbone. Just as your hands wander down to his chest, he stops.

“Our reservation’s in thirty minutes,” he announces, planting a conclusive kiss on your forehead. Once again, always such a tease. 

“Wait, one last thing,” he says, pulling you into an innocent hug, “Thank you Y/N.”

“For what?” you ask, relaxing to the steady heartbeat and the safety of his arms. 

“For being the love of my life,” his voice vibrates through his chest and into your heart, spreading through your body like a soft, golden warmth.

[lesbianpepsi]

you fit me better than my favourite sweater

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!reader

summary: you and Wednesday end up stranded in the middle of the lake

words: 3.954k

warnings: mentions fear of drowning, swearing, bad writing

author notes: this has been in my drafts for a fat minute and i completely forgot about it ngl

"It won't be that bad, I mean any idiot can do it." You say as you meticulously enter the canoe, gripping at the sides with a God strong as the tiny wooden boat rocked from side to side.

"Any idiot can, but you're the most idiotic person I've ever met." Wednesday grumbled as she swiftly sat across from you, entering the canoe much more gracefully than you.

You grinned as you carefully grabbed the oars from the bottom of the boat, carefully sticking them through the small holes on the side of the boat.

"At least that makes me memorable." You remarked. 

Wednesday shook her head as she leaned over to push the boat away from the small dock, the boat wobbling as it caused small ripples in the water.

You sighed as you messily began moving the oars in and out of the water, the canoe moving slowly.

"Row. Row. Row." Wednesday uttered in a deadpan tone, her eyes glued to the lake.  You rolled  your eyes as you moved the oars with all of your strength. "Could you be any more uplifting?" You mumbled sarcastically as you unconsciously gripped at the oars tighter.

There was an actual reason behind the entire situation of you and your friend-not so friend- Wednesday going canoeing at a late hour.

You couldn't swim, an embarrassing fact but unfortunately true, you simply couldn't. Whenever you had lessons as a kid you never could float and would always manage to have at least one or more near drowning incidents.

You tried for months but never got the hang of it, eventually you just accepted the fact you're not a swimmer. 

That was something Enid was afraid of. 

Ever since the Black Cats won for the first time in decades in the Poe Cup, Enid wanted to make sure they stayed champions. 

To make matters worse Yoko said she didn't want to participate this year due to getting poisoned over the entire race last year.

That's how Enid ended up asking you to which you agreed but disagreed at the same time. You would do it, but you couldn't swim. So if their boat broke, you’d be fucked.

Enid took that a 'yes with some minor technicalities' and somehow managed to convince Wednesday to take you out to canoeing. If you could canoe like a pro then that would help the team and decrease  the risk of the boat going down.

You agreed to it whereas the goth was very reluctant to go canoeing with you. Enid thought it was because Wednesday didn’t do people and would loathe having to communicate with someone if she didn’t gain anything from it.

Thinking about it, it was partially true but you know the real reason why Wednesday doesn’t want to be alone with you. 

She didn’t trust herself.

A few weeks back you and the local goth had a situationship going on; Wednesday being the one who started it and tried ending it on multiple occasions. She’d drag you into the closest, the dark corners of the library, empty classrooms, her dorm room, your dorm room and even the forest at one point to make out with you. 

Each time she claimed it was a one time kiss and she was simply trying something new, but then the very next day those slender fingers were wrapped possessively around your wrist and dragging you towards the closest empty room. 

You’ve been in love with the goth for a while which meant you greedily complied with her wishes and did whatever she wanted, like a dog to its owner. 

She wanted to make out because she didn’t do as good on a test, you’re there for her. She wanted to learn what a hickey is, you’re more than welcome to show her and guide her. She says it’s the final time, you give her the fakest smile and agree with her.

Self respect? Who was she?

It had been a week ever since yours and Wednesday last kiss and she was avoiding you like the plague. It hurt but you didn’t really expect anything else to happen. 

That’s why when Enid asked the psychic to go canoeing with you, you were more than happy whereas Wednesday was reluctant. But nobody could say no to Enid's puppy's eyes; that's how you ended up rowing slowly while Wednesday sat there comfortably watching you.

"If I did it would physically pain me." Wednesday quipped as she sat there with her incredibly straight posture, glaring at you. 

"You don't wanna be my personal cheerleader? If you were, you'd have to say 'but I'm a cheerleader' at least once." You said with a giggle, moving further into the lake as you moved one oar quicker than the other.

You knew Wednesday didn't understand the joke as she observed you. "You're not amusing nor comedic, Y/n. I'd rather talk to a brick wall and I guarantee it would still be more interesting than you." 

You barked out a laugh at her comment, not taking it to heart, it's the one thing you've learned ever since she started dragging you into every isolated room to make out with you.

"Bricks can be pricks." You joked as you rowed further and further, starting to get tired even though you had only been doing it for a few minutes. "When can we have swapsies? I've proved I can row so it's all good."

"I can swim and row like a professional, I also brought the Black Cats to victory the previous year. I do not need to row, you do." Wednesday said with her tone bordering on bragging. 

"I get it." You sigh as you keep rowing. "You've seen how good I am at it and don't wanna embarrass yourself." 

Wednesday's head snapped towards yours with a sharp look. You smirked as you looked down, your arms flexing as you rowed.

"Good? If you think that is good then you're destined to make us lose the poe cup." The ravenette barked out, this was the reaction you were expecting.

You shrugged your shoulders as you  smiled innocently at her. "It's fine, Wednesday. I get it, I'm weirdly good at some things."

Wednesday didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes trailing your face before they moved to glance at the oars.

You heard the girl let out a small grunt before she looked back at you. "Fine. Switch positions with me."

Pride flooded you instantly as you managed to convince the stubborn girl to do something. Feeling much more confident than you had in the beginning, without thinking you abruptly stood up to allow Wednesday to sit where you were sitting at.

As you stood up Wednesday's eyes widened dramatically as her eyes gazed towards your hands, grip loosening on the oars.

As if it was slow motion Wednesday watched as the further you stood up, the weaker your grip got on the oars.

"Do not let go of the oars!" Wednesday yelled at you the very moment you stood up completely straight, your grip on the oars vanished.

Splash 

You nor Wednesday moved. Completely frozen.

You slowly eyed the space where the oars used to be, you swallowed nervously as you felt eyes on you. Averting Wednesday's gaze you slowly sat back down, the canoe drumming side to side momentarily.

"I told you specifically to not let go of the oars." Wednesday snapped in a harsh voice, breaking the silence of the night. 

You winced at her harsh tone that you couldn't blame her for. "I'm so sorry, Wednesday."

Wednesday shook her head as she looked away from you, as if disgusted by the sight of you. 

"Enid is the one who suggested it." You reminded her quickly, not wanting to face the wrath of Wednesday Addams alone in an isolated place. You’re not the brightest bulb but you still shine. 

"And you're an imbecile for agreeing with Sinclair to do this, Y/n." Wednesday hissed through gritted teeth, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at you.

You rolled your eyes as you waved your arms dramatically. "Not my fault, Wednesday. Enid asked me a question that for the sake of my life I couldn't lie about." 

The goth shook her head aimlessly, looking away from you with a clenched jaw. "Should've lied."

"You also agreed to help so it's partially your fault too!" You defended with a smug smile, one that Wednesday did not appreciate.

"It's because of you and your tomfoolery and laziness we're stuck in the middle of the lake with no oars for the canoe!"

Yeah it was most definitely your fault. 

"Well I'm sorry Wednesday but you're gonna have to just jump into the water, grab the boat and swim us to shore." 

Wednesday's eyebrows lifted in utter disbelief. "I'm not swimming." She stated flatly.

"Wait, my phone, duh!" You said excitedly as you removed your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, smiling hopefully as you checked your phone.

Your smile faded as you noticed there was no signal. Fucking perfect, you thought bitterly to yourself . 

"No signal." You told her, shoving your phone back into your pocket with a huff. 

"Shocker, I would've never presumed that a cellular device would be useless in a situation of emergency." She snarked out, crossing her arms again in her short sleeve black t-shirt.

 "Emergency?! Oh my fuck are we gonna die? Cause I'm not having 'DIED BY SITTING IN A CANOE' on my gravestone."

The raven haired girl who looked visibly more relaxed than you glanced over towards the dock. "We'll just have to wait here until either Enid comes looking for us or someone else passes." 

Your eyes widened dramatically as you stared at her in disbelief. The plan didn't sound fun, good or reliable. 

"What if it takes hours?"

"Then we will sit here for hours." She answered, her eyes returning to meet with yours.

"Oh fun." You retorted with a roll of your eyes. "So, since it's just the two of us, is this going to turn into a childhood trauma kinda talk or gossip talk?"

Wednesday glowered at you with her iconic death stare, you sighed. I'll take that as a silent kinda talk then, you thought to yourself. 

Your eyes gazed over Wednesday's face which was turned to look at the dock, her already sharp jaw pulled into an even tighter clench. 

You managed to stay utterly silent for what felt like a full hour (but was really only five minutes) before you finally cracked, your knuckles white from the grip you still had on the plank you're sitting on.

"So, how've you been?" You asked gingerly to the goth. Wednesday didn't spare you a glance as she replied.

"I'm currently stranded in the middle of the lake with the absolute dunce of a human being." She snarled, her cold eyes meeting yours once again. 

"I'll take that as good?" You joked as you purse your lips, hoping you could make light of the pretty shitty situation. 

"You're infuriating."  

You sighed as you glared at Wednesday, you were trying to be nice and making the situation better but she was not helping it at all. "Thanks." You grumbled sarcastically. 

Yes it was a not so good situation, yes it was your fault, yes you felt bad about it. But you felt like Wednesday didn't have to dig into you that much, you wouldn't mind as much if you knew she was joking. But you knew her well enough to know she was utterly serious.

The more minutes passed the more bored you got. Wednesday was refusing to look at you whereas all you could stare at was her side profile. 

Your fear of not being able to swim started to gnaw away at the deep pit of your stomach.

"I very much doubt Enid will notice we're stranded due to the fact she's spending the night at Yoko's tonight." Wednesday suddenly announced, the feeling of fear intensifying  as you realised the odds of you sleeping on this canoe over night was growing.

"What time is it?" You asked her quickly.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist briefly before she glimpsed at you. "It's nine in the evening, and curfew is at nine." You gawked at her as the chances of you sleeping outside for the night increased significantly. "You sure you don't wanna go for a little swim?" You attempted one last night, in hopes Wednesday would agree. 

"No."

You sighed as you nodded your head weakly, you're sleeping on water tonight. 

Great.

"Alright if we're sleeping here overnight how are we doing it?"

"I will not be sleeping." Wednesday stated. "I'll stay on watch in case an individual passes." 

"All night?" You asked with your eyebrows raised. 

"Is your hearing damaged?" Wednesday replied dryly, her eyes boring into yours, you huffed as you averted her piercing eyes looking over at the sun slowly setting.

"At least it's warm, some might even say a hot summer night in mid July." You joked in a playful voice, turning your head to look at the beauty of the lake.

The sunset lightning up the dark lake with a shine that made it even more beautiful . 

"Your obsession with that woman is odd." Your head snapped back to look at Wednesday, your jaw slackened as you gazed at her with shock. 

Wednesday remembered you liked Lana Del Rey? More importantly, how did she even know it was a lyric from Lana Del Rey?

Without much thought you voiced your last question to the goth. 

"How'd you even know I was talking about Lana Del Rey?" Wednesday blinked at you as she stayed silent, her eyes glued to yours as she tried to think of an answer. "You do nothing but extol her." She said in an affirmative tone, her fingers playing with the thick steel black ring Enid gifted for her many moons ago.

You tilted your head like a curious dog as your eyes narrowed on her fingers. 

She was lying. 

You weren't Wednesday level good at reading people, but you could always notice a tell when it was presented to you.

You hummed, looking back up at Wednesday's face with a smirk. "I talk about Lana and how good she is but from my knowledge I've never actually sung her song in front of you before. Matter of fact, I don't think I've even talked specifically about the lyrics of her songs with you before, probably with Enid but never you." 

"I don't understand what you're trying to say." Wednesday questioned with threat lacing her words. “I’m just saying, how could you possibly know that line if you’ve never heard me say it before, ‘cause I know Enid is a K-Pop and Swiftie kinda girl, not a Lana one. And you’d never listen to such ‘pointless audios’ as you said, would you?” 

“Terminology with celebrities is obtuse.” She said briskly, her eyes avoiding yours the exact way she was avoiding your words. You hummed as you nodded your head, smugness infiltrating your smile. 

Silence filled the wooden canoe after that, Wednesday staying perfectly silent as she stayed perfectly still. Her main focus being the docks as she hoped someone would pass and help the two of you. 

Thirty minutes passed and there was still no sign of life other than you and the raventte. With a long sigh you reconnected your eyes with Wednesday. 

“We’re stuck here all night aren’t we?” You asked in a knowing tone.

Wednesday nodded her head curtly. “Yes we are.” You let out an exasperated breath as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Also, due to how this canoe is structured it would be impossible to lay down flat on the ground to sleep.”

You looked down at the boat as you tried figuring out any spot where you could sit down in any position and luckily you quickly found one. 

Without saying anything you carefully pushed yourself off the small seat moving to sit at the bottom of the canoe. After a few moments of repositioning yourself with the boat rocking back forth gently you managed to find a semi comfortable position. 

Your feet dangled off one edge of the boat while your neck rested on the edge of the opposite one, it wasn’t the most comfortable one but if you fell asleep your biggest worry would be a stiff neck and not drowning. 

Grinning, you turned to look at the girl whose boots were only about half a metre away from your side. “You say impossible, I say possible.” 

“I say irritating, you say humorous.” She remarked with a glare as she stared at you with her beautiful dead eyes. 

“Well I’m the one who can sleep tonight if someone doesn't come get us.” You tell her with a smile before adding. “No shame if you came down to join me.”

“I would rather live for an eternity than lay with you.” She hisses through gritted making you let out a little giggle. “Whatever you say.”

Minutes passed as you and Wednesday stayed in silence, you gazing up at the sunset making the colour shine gorgeously as Wednesday gazed at your side profile.

After what felt like a century in silence you decided to put on your Spotify playlist that you downloaded to your phone, needing something to erase the booming silence. 

Hitting on the playlist ironically the first song that played was ‘Young and Beautiful’ by Lana Del Rey; the song that had the infamous ‘hot summer nights, mid-July’. You had the DH Orchestral version downloaded.

As the song played in a low volume you heard a small rhythmic tapping from next to you. You turned your head to the side and to your surprise you noticed Wednesday was the culprit of the noise.

She was now gazing off in the sunset like you were doing earlier as her fingers moved against her thigh going along with the beats of the song. 

Wednesday listened to Lana Del Rey because of you. 

You didn't comment on it; simply admiring her with a small smile until the song finished, another random Lana Del Rey song playing soon after.

The goth must've felt eyes on her as she snapped her head back into your direction, locking eyes with you as she tilted her head slightly to the side.

She didn't say anything and neither did you. The two of you sat in silence as you gazed at each other; the two of you having a glint of love in each other's eyes, but neither of you would comment on it. 

Somehow an hour had managed to pass as the sun was almost entirely gone, only a small arch left warming you up.

“Do you think we’ll tip over if we go to sleep?” You voice up slightly nervously as you stare at the wooden canoe. “I will not be sleeping so I’ll make it won't happen.”

“Wait, you were serious about not going to sleep?” Wednesday stiffly nods her head as her posture still remains as straight as ever while sitting up. 

“I never lie.” She tells you.

You bite your tongue into not saying anything that might annoy the goth since you know damn well she lies. She’s lied to you many times when preaching your sessional kisses were only a ‘one time thing’ for each one.

You sigh as you glance up at Wednesday, nodding your head. “Okay, I'll stay up with you.”

“There is no need, Y/n. You may fall asleep if needed.” Wednesday insists with a shake of her head.

“Don't be ridiculous, Wends, I’m not letting you stay awake all night alone while we’re trapped in the middle of the lake.” You reply in a tone that indicates you're not going to debate with her about it. 

The goth sighs as she reluctantly nods her head in agreement. “Fine, whatever.” She mumbles not making eye contact with you as she twisted her body to the side slightly, her brows furrowed ever slightly telling you she's in slight pain.

You don't say anything as you lean forward and take off your hoodie before laying it flat on the bottom of the canoe as the end of your hoodie reaches the tips of Wednesday's boots. 

“If your back hurts you need to lay down for a while.” You say making her look back at you with her eyebrows even more furrowed.

“I’m an Addams, we thrive on pain.” Wednesday answered as if that explained anything. You rolled your eyes as you tapped at your thigh meekly. 

“Okay, fine you love pain and shit. But if it gets too much you're more than welcome to lay down, I wouldn't shame you or tell anyone.” You reply with a soft smile as Wednesday scoffed at your words, not verbally replying.

You didn't say anything as you looked away, glancing over at the dark lake as the sun had officially set. The only light being gifted being the pale moonlight; glistening the water just as softly as the sun did.

Five minutes passed before you heard small shuffling from Wednesday’s side of the small boat, you didn't look over at her as you gazed off into the water.

Wordlessly, you can hear Wednesday slowly move to the bottom of the canoe as she quietly moves up closer to you, laying her head on your lap as she laid straight on her back. 

Your hoodie under her body definitely made it more comfortable for her, something that filled you with pride. 

You look down at Wednesday to see her already looking up at you, her eyes seeming softer as they glinted from the moonlight.

“You’re so pretty.” You whisper out to her moving to lay an arm over her stomach to try to give her as much body warmth as you could. 

Wednesday blinked for the first time as she never broke contact with you, stiffly moving to lay a hand over the one you had on her stomach.

“You're pulchritudinous, Y/n. Not only on the surface level but also inside.” You tilted your head confused at what she just called you, laughing nervously.

“I’m what?” You ask her, resulting in her rolling her eyes as a soft red shade of colour attacked her ears.

“Beautiful, Y/n, it means beautiful.” Wednesday answers make you blush as a nervous smile forms on your lips. 

Admiring her as you run a hand through her soft bangs, not surprisingly they fall right back into place as if you never touched them when you pull away. 

As her dark eyes locked with your eyes you couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh, the look in her eyes and the look you know you have in your eyes telling her everything. 

“I don't want to make it a one time thing.” You confess as you lay your hand near her head. “I don't want it to only be secret kisses, Wednesday. I want you. I want everyone to know how much I love you.” 

For the first time in your life you see Wednesday smile; not smirk, but a true and genuine soft, small smile. 

Gracefully she grabs your hand that was on her stomach as she lifts it to her lips pressing a kiss to your knuckles making you blush at her actions.

As she held your hand she refused to pull them away from her lips, you could feel her breath tickle your skin gently as she whispered the words you have been waiting weeks to hear.

“I love you too.”

—————

authors note: i hate this sm 💀💀

[stories4thepack]

The moon

Wednesday x werewolf!reader

You wolf out to finally put your bully in his place, but Wednesday (for once) decides that murder is not the best option…

Warnings: violence, blood, reader in wolf form and Wednesday being soft, reader being protective, swearing.

Wednesday was alerted by the screaming of her classmates. She looked up from her typewriter, listening to the bliss filled sound for a moment, willing to stay where she was as whatever happened, happened.

The second Thing tapped your name, she was flying through the corridors to the Quad. Crashing into other students as she charged towards the commotion.

The school was stretched in a circle around something she could not quite see. The werewolves all standing like police in front of the crowd, growling at whatever danger had broken into the school.

For a second, Wednesday thought it might be Tyler. Until, she heard a panicked cry.

When she walked closer, she hear the silent sniggers of some of the students, mainly the sirens.

“Got off you bitch!”

A voice very familiar to Wednesday cried out from in the centre of the circle. A voice she despised with all of her heart.

“Y/n, let him go…”

Came Enid’s shaky voice, the crowd parted as the goth walked into the heart of the circle. A slight smile appearing on her face as she sees what’s happening.

In the centre, stood a grand, magnificent werewolf, teeth bared at the boy who it had pinned on the floor. It’s claws sank slowly into his shoulders as he threw insults and screams at the dog.

At you

Wednesday knew it was you immediately, you were larger and stronger than a regular werewolf and while the other furs had a 50/50 human/wolf look about them, your wolf, looked much more of a bear sized husky than a usual werewolf. This being one of the reasons why some of the werewolves saw you as odd. As a target for bullying.

The stuff they said, usually caused your emotions to get the better of you, meaning that you could wolf out in broad daylight; and when that happened, you didn’t have great control of what you did in your wolf form.

“Fucking Bitch!”

The boy yelled from beneath your great paws, crying out as your claws sank ever deeper into his flesh. Spit dripped from your bared tusks onto the boys face. Ah, Wednesday recognised him now.

Trevor Silverton

Or Something like that. Another Werewolf whose little pack treated you like shit everyday for no apparent reason apart from you being different.

“Wednesday, could you stop your girl?”

Bianca snapped from behind her, but the Raven hair felt reluctant to do so.

One: it was Bianca asking.

Two: you were getting revenge. Entertaining revenge at that.

Trevor screamed as a snap echoed around the Quad. Your claws had broken through his bone, it brought a toothy grin to your Canine face. Wednesday was enjoying this, enjoying the blood soaking the green grass. Enjoying the agonising cries of your bully. But most of all:

She was enjoying this side of you….

“Wednesday, please stop her!”

Enid almost cried from the other side of the circle. Wednesday rolled her eyes. Why was everyone else incapable of looking after you?

She takes a step forward, the sound of her feet crunching on the scarlet grass causing you to snap your feral eyes in her direction. A snarl slipping from your lips.

“Y/n, I will happily assist you in the unfortunate demise of this mutt, but perhaps we could do so without so many witnesses.”

Your girlfriend mutters calmly, approaching without any caution as your eyes scan the crowd of students. Your ears flick as you hear a teachers voice shouting across the courtyard - no doubt Principle Weems.

“Get off of me!”

Trevor shouts, using his knee to kick your stomach. You freeze, before your great head turns to face him again, your eyes burning a furious silver. Wednesday closes the distance between you, placing her hand on the top of your head, your soft fur slipping between her fingers.

“Do not hurt him Y/n!”

Wednesday demands, her voice commanding and powerful, yet with a subtle hint of gentleness that only you would be able to detect. Your eyes flicked up to her face, but open jaw remained poised over Trevor’s throat. Almost asking her why you shouldn’t kill him now.

“What did he do to her Enid?”

Wednesday questioned, never breaking eye contact with you as Enid stuttered her response.

“Y/n came into the quad and Trevor yelled the same fucked up stuff at her. But then, he threw, I’m not sure what it said, but a paper airplane with a note on it, then she wolfed out.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching so tightly that it looked like it would break.

“Where. Is. The. Note.”

She demanded, each word slow and toxic, making the other students around her shuffle fearfully. Xavier arrives from behind her, the crumpled, slightly torn note in his hand Wednesday snatched it off him, her face growing even more furious with each word she read.

Wednesday shouldn’t be dating a pup like you. I bet you can’t even look after her like she wants. If I were her, I would kill myself for dating a messed up dog!

The goth slowly raised her head, her eyes somehow more hate-filled than her girlfriend’s.

“She should tear your throat out right now. I am done with you treating her this way. I have warned you once too many times. The only reason your alive, is because she told me not to kill you, now I think she’s having second thoughts…”

She hissed, hatred boiling in her words. You bark, rearing your head to strike, as if her words were your kill command. But her cold hand returns to between your ears before you can bite down

“Y/n, you cannot give into such a pathetic child. He is nothing but an insect compared to the greater things going on beyond these walls. “

The students begin to turn around as several, running feet can be heard heading towards the circle of pupils. Principle Weem’s heavy breathing loud enough to hear a mile away. You look at your girlfriend, freezing for a moment before slowly edging away from the boy, Wednesday following your steps, a hand on your head the entire time until your both walking side by side out of the Quad. The teachers shouting and panicking about the injured boy and blood soaked Quad behind you.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why did you react like that when you read the note?”

Wednesday asked that night, sitting beside you on the dry earth beneath a full moon. Her black, leather jacket wrapped around your naked form, your torn oversized jumper the only other thing covering you.

“Because he wrote exactly what I was afraid of.”

Your voice is calm, though still with the slight animalistic growl your wolfing out had caused. You rest your head on her shoulder, wrapping your warm hand in her cold one.

“You know that you treat me better than I deserve”

“That’s not true Wednesday, you deserve the world”

Wednesday lays her head on top of yours, something she would never do in public. She was gentle for you, letting her guard down just because you made her soft. Usually she would hate that side of her, but she treasured the way you made her feel.

“But you’ve given my something better, my wolf,”

She whispers, kissing the top of your head as you purr into her neck.

“You’ve given me the moon.”