This pun is so underrated. Give it some love!

Ok. So. Hear me out. I’ve been thinking. And I have a dream fan casting for season 2 of Wednesday.

Since the ghastly death of Mayor Noble at the hands of Miss Thornhill/Laurel Gates, Jericho is in need of a new Mayor. And I have just the woman.

Under the cut!!

Angelica Huston aka Morticia Addams herself.

Are you with me???

A small bed

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: During a cold night at Nevermore, you seek shelter in your friend's, Xavier, room, but as it turns out, sleeping on a single bed in two, is not as easy as it sounds. Warnings: SMUT (protected sex and oral sex- female receiving-) a/n: Let's play a game. Guess who's depressed and has done nothing other than "write" and watch Wednesday for the past few days? Please find the answer in the following text.

It was so cold in the room. Those stupid wooden thin walls never actually isolated the building from the cold. Funny how the headmaster seemed to have money to donate to the Mayor's campaign but none to invest in the infrastructure she herself was managing. The bedroom was way too large and the ceiling way too high for the mere thermostat to be enough to fight the cruel Jericho's cold. You could hear Edvin's low snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. You wondered how she did it, how she could fall asleep with this temperature. Maybe it had something to do with her nature, and if that was it, you wished for a moment to have been born a werewolf too. Able at least to close your eyes without the fear you'll freeze to death in your sleep keep you from doing so. you sighed. there was no way you were gonna do it. The alarm on the nightstand indicated the time. 3:46, plastered in red lightning, the only thing illuminating the room besides the sheer light coming from outside, the moon still emanating her immortal glow through the branches. The howling of the wind seemed almost sinister, as it infiltrated from the window. You gripped the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, sitting up on the bed. There had to be something you could do right? You intently thought about it, as the cold spread itself all over your body. They were no more blankets, so that was a no. there was hot tea in the kitchen, but that meant stepping outside, where the cause of your suffering had originated, not to mention you were still going to have to come back to this infernal room after, so that was another no. the gears in your brain were desperately operating, trying hard to find a solution, but it seemed the temperature had compromised also them, not just your body, which was now trembling, as the only one they could find was the first one you had thought of, but had deliberately discarded. It's not like it was a bad idea, he would have said yes, you knew. there was just something about it that didn't convince you, a feeling or, better even, a presentiment, that made you doubtful on whether it was a good idea either. But you didn't have time to think about it as you slipped through the door, glancing one last time, at that shadow-filled space.

The sound resonated through the whole corridor as your knuckles met the door's hardwood. Silence filled it just moments after. It's not like you were expecting a prompt reply, or one at all for that matter. Light footsteps echoed in your ears just before the doorknob turned. "Y/n?" Xavier whispered, his voice still hoarse and full of sleep. "I know, I'm sorry. can I come in?" He frowned, visibly confused "Uhh, sure" "Thanks" you immediately sneaked in. He closed the door and leaned on it, still incredibly perplexed. "Did-did something happen?" "No, nothing like that" You smiled "I just-" you bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him "I can't sleep in my room. It's too cold." "Oh" he exhaled relieved, calming you with him. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry. I can go if you want" you said, realizing just now how crazy you must look. Showing up to his room at 4 in the morning trembling and without shoes on. "shit you're freezing" he noticed, immediately taking his bed's blanket and walking up to you. He was silent as he gently wrapped it around you, his hands remaining on your arms once you had gripped it. "Thanks" "don't worry." he shook his head. A sincere expression spread over his face, and you let yourself stare at it, loving the way he was doing the same. "so, can I stay here?" you asked again "Of course" he said, looking offended by the fact you even had to ask. He glanced at his bed, an eyebrow-raising itself "There's only one thing" he offered you an apologetic smile "There's only one bed. Rowan's old one doesn't have any blankets". You looked around. He was right. Only the single bed surrounded by drawing-filled walls seemed to be suitable to sleep in. Especially today. You laughed softly. It wasn't funny, well maybe just a bit, but most of all it was ironic. you had come here for shelter and the only one you had found was a very thin mattress you now had to share with someone else. You wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't for the fact that there was no other option. You definitely weren't going back to the hellhole you had just escaped from. "I think we can fit" "you sure?" "Well, we at least have to try" you said "If I go back to my room there's a 90 % chance that I'll die of hypothermia" "and we wouldn't want that" he chuckled, his thumbs stroking your arms through the cover. "no" you smiled "we definitely wouldn't". You liked looking at him, the moon illuminating only the left side of him, lightening his long amber hair to champagne ones. "all right then" he let his arms fall to his sides before indicating the way     "Ladies first" "Why thank you, kind sir" you grinned as you went to the bed, laying down on it. It smelled of him. His scent was soaked in the sheets and in the pillow and you immersed yourself in it as you closed your eyes. You liked it. More than you should have, probably. "comfortable?" he asked, and you nodded sleepily as your eyes stayed shut. He laughed softly at how cute you looked, peacefully sleeping in his bed, and a weird feeling invaded his chest. He didn't pay attention to it as he walked towards you. You felt the bed creek and move as he climbed on it, laying just beside you. You hadn't really understood how small the bed was when you had looked at it before, but as you laid here, your two bodies glued together, you realized just how wrong your estimate had been. Silence filled the room again as he set the cover on you both. You were still shuddering, it seemed like the cold had made its way into you and had now little to no intention of ever leaving you. "You're still cold" he whispered, his hand finding your arm again, just to caress it kindly. His touch felt like fire on your frozen skin. You opened your eyes, finding his already on yours. You swallowed nervously at how close you were, a few inches was all that separated you. If you hadn't been best of friends this would have looked romantic, you thought. But you were, so there was nothing to think about. "mh-mh" you nodded. "can I-" he murmured as he turned to lay on his side "I can hug you" he bit his lip "if that's ok" "Y-yeah sure. I'd like that" you said shyly and he smiled "ok" He scooted closer to you and you turned to your side, just like he had,  facing the wall. You admired the extremely detailed spider on the drawing in front of you as he put one of his arms around you, tightly holding onto your chest, pushing you against his, and the other under your head. His body was flat against yours, from head to toe following your body's position. You could feel every inch of his body, his hair brushing against your neck where his breath was giving you goosebumps, his chest moving up and down against your back, and his knees on the back of your legs. He was warm, and as much as you were grateful for the cold beginning to leave your body, you weren't thinking about it anymore. What you were thinking about, was his hand on your stomach, and your ass-well- your ass dangerously close to his crotch. You gulped, if you had been on the verge of falling asleep before, you doubted you were ever gonna do it now. You kept staring at the drawing as you let yourself melt into his touch, so gentle and yet so reassuring. It felt nice. More than nice actually. Your neck was starting to hurt and you readjusted yourself to get more comfortable, inadvertently moving closer to him, and well,  grinding against his lap. A small groan, clearly not intended for you to be heard, left his throat. "sorry" you whispered, faintly "don't worry" his hoarse voice traveled to your ears, as he tightened his hug. Shit. There was a weight on your chest and a familiar feeling in your belly, and you preyed that you would have fallen asleep soon, zeroing out all the possible mistakes that you were afraid you couldn't stop yourself from making, and that right now were all you wanted to do. All the thoughts passing from your head were things you knew you would have regretted later, like what would have happened if you ground again against his crotch, or if you turned and leaned just a few inches over, meeting his lips with yours. They were all potential, doable possibilities, that you could have explored in a matter of seconds, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. You were just tired, that was it. Xavier was your friend, and friends don't kiss each other, even if they really really want to. "Y/n?" a soft whisper in your ear. "Hm" you hummed "are you sleeping?" You turned your neck around, now really inches from his face, from his nose, eyes, and stupidly pretty mouth. "no" you answered There was a moment of silence, as he inspected your whole face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your mouth and then up again. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had never understood that expression, but now, all of the sudden, it seemed to make a lot of sense. "are you feeling better?" "yes, thank you" He moved his hand from your belly and brought it up to your face "good" he murmured, as he stroked your cheek. You felt your cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. "I-" your voice died in your throat, as you forgot what you wanted to say. "You're very pretty you know?" he kept caressing your face "I don't think I've ever told you before" he smiled "but you really are" shit. He was making it really hard not to want to explore the possibilities. "I- thank you" you murmured. He looked at you, seriously now, penetrating and studying you, like he was really seeing you for the first time. "Y/n" he murmured, his eyes blinking slowly. "Xavier" you whispered too, before he slowly leaned over, indecisively getting closer and closer to your lips. you looked at him as he reached them, pressing his mouth on yours, in a chaste kiss. you barely reciprocated, still shocked this was actually happening. He leaned away, his eyes moving between your mouth and your eyes, desperately trying to understand what you were thinking, while also desperately wanting to kiss you again, this time, like he really wanted to. You looked at him, his beautiful eyes always so confident, now looked so hesitant. It was a weird image, a new one. You smiled subtly as you leaned over and pressed your lips with his, this time better, harder and more passionately as his hand on your cheek traveled to your hair. He stroked your hair as he kissed you lovingly, his warm mouth on yours, as you both closed your eyes. It felt like floating, like flying on cotton candy clouds. You had never felt something like this. he smiled as he leaned away, and you couldn't help but do the same. "you're a good kisser" he murmured" better than I expected actually" you gasped, pretending to be mad " you expected me to be bad? " you asked, realizing just at that moment something "and what do you mean by expected?" "well" he moved a lock of your hair behind your ear "let's just say there have been times when I wondered about this" "have there?" you grinned "yes" he kissed  you again quickly "there have been" " Good to know"  you bit your lip "and by the way, you're a good kisser too" "Oh I know" he chuckled, retracting his hand from under your head to place it on your shoulder, his fingers trailing on it. "I'm good at a lot of things" he looked at you. A fire burned in his eyes. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he kissed it uncaringly. His tongue infiltrated your lips as he forced your head together with his hand. You could taste him in your mouth, Xavier, all of him. from his toothpaste to the tip of the pencil he bit constantly. It was all there. "And do you want to show me those things you're so good at?" you said, surprising even yourself "pleeeease" he begged, desperation clear in his voice as he gripped your head one more time, kissing you hard and messily as he pushed you to lay down on the bed. He didn't waste any time as he got on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face, while his hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of shivers with his touch. You whimpered as one of his hands found your breasts "We can stop if you want" "no. please no" He smiled "thank god" he lifted your shirt and sweater "I was just getting to the good part," he said, as he lifted it over your head with your help and shamelessly stared at your bare tits " fuck you're hot" he said bending down to spread kisses all over them while groping and caressing them hungrily. "so" he started kissing down your belly "fucking" he trailed down under the covers "hot" he said, kissing your fully clothed pubis. You moaned softly at the hint of a touch he just gave you. You were desperate "please" as I said, desperate "patience my dear" he whispered sarcastically, as he hooked the hem of your pants under his fingers, toying with it. You whined softly "a virtue you clearly don't possess" he chuckled under his breath as he slowly took your pants off, finally freeing you. he bent down immediately between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. You met his gaze and bit your lip. This was crazy. You were friends and had been such for so long, and apparently, all it took was a very cold night and a much too small bed to make you forget about it, and for him to end up between your legs. Fuck, he looked pretty that way. He brought you back to reality as he bent down and kissed your clit, still looking at you. You moaned softly, and then he did it again, this time for longer, and your moan became louder and kept doing so until he was sucking your clit and you were screaming his name, your hands gripping his hair and the sheets mindlessly. Lost in the pleasure he was provoking you He was looking at you mesmerized as you threw your neck back, your eyes shutting close and your mouth open, those filthy sounds coming out of it. Xavier thought he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. "you taste so good y/n" he said, his words vibrating against your cunt, as his fingers came up to your pussy, slowly moving towards the entrance. You cried out as they entered you, Xavier pumping them in and out relentlessly. A very dirty sound echoed through the room as he kept doing that, not even your voice able to cover it, as he went back to sucking and licking all he could find. "xavier" you mumbled "s-shit" you tried to speak, but the pressure forming in your belly distracted you "I-I'm coming" you finally spat out, and he smiled against your cunt "then cum y/n, come all over me" he stopped just to resume again, even harsher than before. You felt a knot in your stomach and as he scissored his fingers inside of you again, hitting your g-spot perfectly, it broke down. Making you come undone, loudly moaning his name as you came down from your high. "shit" you sighed incredulously, as he came back up to your face, pressing his lips with yours once again, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. "you weren't joking when you said you were good" you giggled, and he smirked "I'm a man of my word" his hand found your side again "now" he looked at you "let me show you my full potential" he said, making you laugh giddily, exited for what was about to come. His hands left you momentarily as he took off his shirt and just moments after, his pants. You had never seen anyone undress that quickly. He leaned over you to reach into one of his nightstand's drawers, his hand reappearing with a tinfoil package between his fingers, the same ones that were inside of you moments before. You squeezed your thighs shut, just at the thought He looked down at your legs and smiled knowingly, as he slid the condom on his cock. You weren't nervous. It was weird, usually, you were always nervous at moment like this but you felt safe, and more than a bit turned on. "you're gonna have to open your legs y/n" he raised an eyebrow, and you tilted your head to the side, biting down a smile "and what if I don't?" he bent down over you "then I'm gonna have to open them for you" he ghosted your lips. you swallowed thickly. Fucking shitty shit. Hot. That was hot. You spread your legs and he smirked smugly " so obedient" he joked and you rolled your eyes. "look at me" he commanded as he positioned himself at your entrance "I want you to look at me when I'm inside you" Your mouth slaked open but you still nodded "use your words" "ok" you answered finally, and he looked at you proudly before slowly pushing himself into you. A series of stroked and interrupted moans escaped your mouth as he bottomed out, filling you up completely. You were doing as he requested, looking at him intently as your face contorted in all sorts of expressions. "you're perfect" he sighed faintly, as he placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently " so fucking perfect" he looked at you, making your heart miss a beat. his lips twitched up into a very thin smirk as he started moving in and out of you slowly, his veiny cock wrapped tightly around your walls. "feel so good " he groaned as he quickened his pace. One of your hands flew to his shoulder as you gripped it to bring him down to you. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you did, as you hooked your arm beside his neck and reached up to kiss him desperately, leaving pointless little whines in his mouth as he kept thrusting into you. "shit Xavier" you cried out as he brought one of his hands down to circle your already overstimulated clit. "I know," he said without an ounce of real sorriness "just take it " he pecked your lips again "It'll be worth it" You were out of breath as you kept bouncing on his bed, your tits moving with you. his movements were fast and you were feeling so many things at once that you weren't sure you knew exactly where you were at the moment. The same knot from before was starting to form itself again. "you're coming" he said, through his panting, anticipating you. Some of his hair were stuck to his forehead, and his mouth was open, gasping for air in between his sporadical groans of pleasure. "mh-mh" you nodded desperately, your hips moving with his to get even more friction. "come baby" he murmured, the pet name echoing through your ears, and traveling straight down to your cunt "come for me" "oh god xavier" you had the time to murmur before a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you, a series of little fireworks exploding inside you as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm while letting you ride yours out. "fuck" he growled as his thrusts got more sloppy "you feel- so f-fucking good" he groaned, before with one final push, he came, a series of profanities leaving his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smiled as you realized what had just happened, and when he raised his head, you could see he was doing the same. "I think the bed was too small" you grinned "What makes you say that?" he laughed

Woe out the Storm (9) - Hard Comes the Rain

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 2.5k

-You pray for the storm of your life, it's over and nothing survived-

This school year was officially turning into the biggest mess you had ever experienced. Oversized Gollum-looking monster that killed a bunch of people, finding out from Wednesday that Weems was a shapeshifter who had no issues with covering up Rowan’s murder, and now this ominous message burnt onto school grounds.

Fire will rain.

There had to be more to it than that.

Let it never be said Wednesday was the only one who could sneak in and out of some secure place. And your methods were more suited for what you were aiming to do.

You were sitting in a tree, close to one of the open windows of the mayor’s office. There was probably someone there, so you’d need to do this quickly. Just go in and out, and if you can’t get what you need in fifteen to twenty minutes, try again tomorrow. You stabbed a knife into the branch, one of the knives you didn’t mind losing and jumped down, using a small burst of lightning to slow down your fall. When you landed you sent some electricity through the ground, searching for electrical wires, you wouldn’t damage them, you’d just use them to cut the power at the very source.

A drop of sweat slid down your face. It was difficult to locate the wires, to recognize what was your electricity and what wasn’t. And you needed to stay in control and not fry the wires. You took several deep breaths, focusing as hard as you could and finally, after what felt like eternity, you found it, the steady current going toward the building. That was the hardest part.

With a bit of a smirk, you sent your own electricity toward the power source and disrupted it, cutting off the power in the entire building, you would have cut the power off for entire block to make it less suspicious, but you didn’t have that kind of control.

Well, more optimal solutions aside, you accomplished what you were after. You zapped to the knife in the tree and tossed another one through the open window, zapping inside. For once you allowed the beast within you to somewhat come out as your eyes turned red and your vision cleared, the darkness around you was no longer an issue. Perks of your primary beast being what it was.

You broke into the archive, making sure to make as little sound as possible as you did that, and powered the computer on with your electricity. Your eyes narrowed as you forcefully bypassed the security. This was why you were so focused on learning all about technology you could, with your powers and knowledge you were a human hacker, capable of breaking into any device you were familiar with, regardless of passcodes or any other protections. With full access to the PC you began searching through the files, starting with Crackstone. There wasn’t anything there, at least not anything you didn’t already know. So, you went with another tactic.

Garrett Gates, dead family, the mansion that was long abandoned but recently bought by some woman. None of this was helping you, at all. You should have brought Wednesday with you somehow, maybe she could have seen something in this mess of information.

“Come on, it’s an old family, surely someone wrote some kind of book about it?” you muttered, already anxiously searching for Garrett’s grandparents or someone even further back. Nothing, it was as if one of Jericho’s oldest families just vanished from records older than a century ago and you weren’t sure if it was them specifically or if it was just in general. No books, no records, the only new information was the existence of their mansion, which you could have figured out without extra effort.

As the last ditch effort you wrote ‘Fire will rain’ and all of a sudden something strange began happening, it was as if something was disrupting you, as if there was a security in place that was specifically meant to stop a raiju or someone else capable of using lightning from getting into the system.

“Shit!” you cursed, turning the computer off and running outside, no longer caring if someone working here would catch you. You didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but just for a moment you felt as if you could sense the danger, as if you were on a timer and needed to get away as soon as possible, otherwise you’d be in way over your head. You reached the window you came in through and were about to zap to the knife in the tree when you froze and ducked. Someone was in the tree, right where your knife was.

That figure, it didn’t feel human, it didn’t feel like you were looking at some outcast, just one glimpse was enough to freeze you on the spot. It didn’t matter that staying near the window made you vulnerable, that it was the obvious entry point for you, none of that mattered. You just couldn’t move.

Your heart hammered in your chest, there was nothing you could do, to escape or protect yourself. Somehow, despite only catching the glimpse of that figure you knew not even shifting into your beast form would help. You were at the mercy of whatever was in the tree, you couldn’t even pull out your phone to apologize to your parents for being reckless, you could just sit there and wait.

And then the tension vanished, but so did your knife. And the power was back on. You dared to look outside and the moment you did that you were met with completely blue eyes staring down at you, no pupils, nothing, not even the sclera was white, everything was pale blue. Before you could even begin to understand what was going on; before you could even take in any other features of the one in front of you, you were struck by pain and slammed into a wall. There wasn’t even a sound, there was nothing, just pain, excruciating pain you couldn’t endure.

~X~

Wednesday was always a light sleeper, though she learnt how to ignore certain sounds in the middle of the night. A loud thud against the wall and a body dropping to the floor was one of those sounds. Thing frantically tapping her arm wasn’t something she could ignore though. Especially when he insisted on repeating your name in Morse code.

“What?” she didn’t appreciate being woken up, and it didn’t sound like you were losing control over yourself. But Thing was persistent, so she opened her eyes and sat up. Due to Enid’s excessively colorful side of the window Wednesday couldn’t see it quite clearly, but she could swear she saw a body lying there. Thing jumped from her bed and ran outside, turning around just once to make sure Wednesday was following him.

Surely it wasn’t you, right?

But it was you.

You were right there, unconscious and lying on the cold stone of the balcony. “Y/N,” she touched your neck to make sure you were alive, only to be struck by a vision. It was just flashes this time, chilling completely blue eyes, a shadowy figure in the tree, being thrown against the wall, and then nothing. Wednesday almost gasped, both due to the vision and the realization that you were alive.

What were you doing? How did you get into this situation? Wednesday didn’t know, all she knew was that she needed you to wake up, because carrying you and risking another vision wasn’t something she wanted to deal with. So, she shook you slightly, ignoring how the grunt of pain you let out didn’t sound as good as she hoped it would. Not when she wasn’t the one that caused it. No one else should have that right and whoever did this, sooner or later she’d get her revenge.

“Y/N,” she spoke again as you blinked a few times. You looked disoriented, in pain, and barely aware of where you were, and then your eyes widened and you frantically looked around, jumping to your feet, and pulling Wednesday behind you before she could even realize what was happening.

“What? Where is that?!” you were looking for whatever or whoever attacked you, and there was no doubt in Wednesday’s mind that you were instinctively making sure you were between her and whatever danger you were worried about.

“Calm down, we’re alone,” she assured you, but you didn’t listen, still stuck between flight and fight response. “Y/N,” she tried with your name and that reached you as you let out a shuddering breath and calmed down enough to turn around and look at Wednesday. “Can you walk alone?” she asked and though wide-eyed you nodded slowly.

You didn’t move and Wednesday realized you were waiting for her to get inside first. With a heavy sigh she did exactly that. A thought came to her mind, entirely related to the information her mother revealed to her. About that generational bond between her family and raiju.

As far as Wednesday was concerned this, from your interaction with Wednesday to this apparent protectiveness, simply wasn’t your choice. You couldn’t help it if her being an Addams made you drawn to her. That would certainly explain your behavior toward her, your acceptance of who she was. She was different, she was stronger than some curse that brought the two of you together, she knew about it, she wasn’t influenced by it. Every experience she had with you was of her own free will, and so was this. If a raiju was meant to die for an Addams, it certainly wouldn’t be you dying for her.

No matter the consequences of that choice.

And that decision was even more definitive now that you came back from wherever you were like this. Clearly in pain, though without visible injuries, and attacked for something she was almost certain had something to do with her and/or her investigation.

Even she could see how distraught you were, but there was nothing she could do other than lead you to your part of the room, only guide you to your bed until you went through the motions and got on the bed. You were anxious, still focused on perceived danger and frantic and Wednesday had to do something about it. As you were, you wouldn’t go to sleep, and she had no patience or will to deal with that right now. So, she did the next best thing and struck a pressure point on your neck before you could react.

As Wednesday watched your unconscious form she found herself biting her lower lip, angry and frustrated at what just transpired.

~X~

You were alive.

Somehow.

When you woke up the next morning the first sight you saw was Wednesday sitting at the bottom of your bed, reading a book with Thing dutifully staying next to her.

“How bad was it? Since you are sitting here?” you couldn’t help but ask, revealing to her and Thing that you just woke up. Wednesday didn’t move, she didn’t even look at you and that made you even more worried. “Wednesday?” you remembered how disoriented and afraid you were, how you followed her, frightened that whatever attacked you would come back and that she’d get hurt too if that happened. Was that really enough for this kind of reaction from her?

Thing jumped to your side and asked you how you were feeling.

You smiled a bit, bringing your fist up to fist bump him. “I’ll be fine, Thing,” and you would be, the pain from last night was mostly gone. Being a raiju meant you had a higher than average tolerance to pain and that you healed faster than normies and most outcasts as well.

Wednesday just stood up and went to her bed, not even looking at you in the process. You sighed softly and glanced at Thing. You thought he’d just shrug, keeping Wednesday’s secrets under lock and key, but he didn’t. He openly told you she was worried and that she spent the night watching over you, that the lack of pain had a lot to do with the medicine she injected you with and you just leaned your head back into the pillow and nodded.

You made Wednesday worried and had nothing to show for it. All you accomplished was getting caught and hurt.

~X~

Two days later Enid approached you while Wednesday was tending to Eugene’s bees and the two of you were alone in your room with an idea you would have loved, if there wasn’t one tiny detail that made you refuse.

“Come on, it’s Wednesday’s birthday and there’s no better place for her!” Enid tried to persuade you.

“I agree, that’s the perfect place for Wednesday’s surprise birthday party, but, there’s a lake I need to get across and I’m not doing that,” you were absolutely never going to give in and approach that lake. Or any other bigger body of water. Not even for Wednesday.

“Y/N, come on! If you aren’t there there’s fifty percent higher chance she won’t even tolerate it!” Enid kept trying, as stubborn as she always was.

You sighed. “No, not even for Wednesday,” besides, you had a feeling Wednesday would hate the surprise either way. She barely spoke to Xavier, and you were fairly sure she never spoke with Yoko, or Ajax and whoever else Enid was going to convince to join. Frankly, you and Enid were the only ones whose presence at Wednesday’s surprise birthday party was understandable. “Besides, she is going to hate it either way,” you pointed out.

“Well, maybe she will, but I will show her that she is appreciated and accepted!” and you thought Enid’s reasons and way of thinking were perfectly reasonable and something most people would appreciate, but that was the thing about Wednesday, she didn’t need to feel like she was appreciated or accepted, she was the one in complete control.

Besides, you were still shaken by what happened at the mayor’s office building. At the end of the day you owed Wednesday for taking care of you. And you weren’t about to repay her with a surprise party, even if it was for her birthday. You’d wish her a happy birthday the morning of her birthday and you’d hand her the gift you’ve more or less had ready ever since you took Wednesday’s knife.

Frankly, you were just glad that knife remained in your possession, unlike the knife you left in that damn tree.

“I really can’t convince you?” Enid tried, hopefully, for the last time.

“You really can’t. I’m not getting close to that much water, no matter what,” you stood your ground. It wouldn’t matter what the reason was, you just, plain and simple, wouldn’t risk falling into water, no matter how safe the transportation was.

Not even for Wednesday.

A/N: Well, there’s chapter 9, a bit short, but I feel like I accomplished what I was after. Honestly, I’m gambling on that line from Laurel, that it’s a part of the bigger game or whatever she said, paying off and blindly adding to that part of the plot. Will it work out? Well, I hope it will. Worst case scenario I can use ‘wrong people’ line from Bianca’s mom as an explanation. Oh, well, we’ll see when season 2 comes out.

Can you do something for Nevermore!Tyler where he is kind of an ass to everyone except for his s/o?

This thing of ours (Tyler Galpin x Reader)

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x AFAB Reader.

A/N: Roald Dahl, anyone? Also, who is manipulating who? Who picked the other one? You tell me. Yes, I know I said tomorrow but I couldn't help myself. Here, the Manipulative Reader x Manipulative Tyler

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal unprotected sex. Innocence kink if you squint. Cursing. Manipulation, from both parties. Writer running with the request and doing what she wants. AGED UP CHARACTERS. Toxic, don’t try at home. Corruption kink, maybe (Reader gets manipulative slowly, maybe Tyler rubs on her?)

Requested: Yes. I am so sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this. I see the request, I get it started just as they specify, and then I start asking questions. If you don’t like it, I can redirect you to Sweet and Sour, which has Tyler treating the reader right. See my pinned post for it. Maybe I will write something more fitting later. Tag requested: @ajaxisbae

Getting a bad reputation at Jericho was awfully easy. Do you know the saying about small towns? Yeah, Jericho was like that. Everyone knew each other, who were the outcasts, who were the stoners, who was the mayor’s son, and of course, the sheriff. It didn’t help, Tyler had a story of acting up. First, with the death of his mother and bootcamp, then a short period of time of acting like a normal member of the community and then the murders. The sheriff son, an outcast, and a murderer? When he finally got back from his court mandated time in a mental health facility, with loads of therapy to look forward to, he didn’t even need to try. His reputation was already forged, so he got to just lay back in the bed he had already made. Why keep trying when everyone would be perpetually questioning his motives?

And so, when he got shipped off to Nevermore, he didn’t bother with the facade. Wednesday glared daggers at him in any hallway, her friends looked at him with a mix of pity and disgust. Turns out, the whole group was pretty influential on their year, so whatever Tyler did, if they didn’t approve, the rest of Nevermore wouldn’t. If this was happening months ago, Tyler might try to manipulate them again, get in their good graces, so the rest would fall back in line. But he was sure he couldn’t get Wednesday to fall for his tricks ever again.

So, he embraced his asshole reputation, the fearsome, unrepentant murderer one. And it was good, for a while. Until you showed up.

“Can I sit here?” A timid, meek voice asked. As always, he was the only one who was sitting alone, and he liked it that way. If it were for him, Tyler was going to finish his education and get the fuck away from Nevermore and Jericho. His plan was to get into a college far enough, possibly in a sunnier state, and for that, he needed to focus, not to make friends.

“Fuck off.” He answered, without lifting his head. He was setting up his notes for history class, already thinking of maybe recording it because the teacher talked way too fast.

“Is anyone sitting next to you?” The voice insisted, this time sounding more frustrated. “I’m new and this is the only free seat.”

At that, Tyler lifted his gaze and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was wearing the standard Nevermore uniform, in the purple color. But there was something about her that made her glow, and it wasn’t a physical trait. She had kind eyes, and pretty blush on her cheeks, but overall she made him think about the Roald Dahl quote, a person with good thoughts can never be ugly.

That was the deal with this girl, good thoughts shone out of her face, making her look lovely. Even embarrassed and frustrated at his outburst, she met his eyes with a tentative smile.

“Sit down, then.” Tyler offered, feeling much like the asshole everyone said he was. His own reaction was odd... Why did he feel so pulled to you?

“Thank you.” You answered, stiffly. Seemingly unable to contain himself, Tyler pushed his notes towards you.

“Here.” He said. “You can take a look, so you aren’t so lost. Name’s Tyler, by the way.” Kindness was something he was rusty in, but for you, he was willing to try.

“Y/N” You looked at him, and slowly sat down. The way you were keeping an eye on his hands told him you were familiar with bullying and expecting to get pushed or made fun of at any moment. That made rage boil in his chest. How could someone do anything bad to an angel like you?

“Sorry about before. I’m an asshole.” He said. You nodded and got to work on reading his notes. Your distrust in him was clear, and so, he decided it was time to go back to his usual stunts.

The key to a good manipulation is this: Do it carefully. Do it slowly. If you are a wolf among sheep, even if you are focused on the most special one, you don’t attack fast and hard, sending the others into a panic. No. You watch first, and approach slowly.

Turns out, pretty things like yourself get warned off about the monster sitting next to them in class. It’s Enid, the one who gets picked to do it. She is the sweetest out of all of them, the friendly, approachable one. If Tyler ever hurts you, you might choose not to approach scary Wednesday, afraid of being laughed at. Or awkward Ajax, who is a boy and not much to look at in terms of a defender.

“Y/N, right?” She asks, when you are out by the quad, exploring the place. “I’m Enid!”

“Hi,” You smile back, shyly. As an introvert, you don’t have a lot of experience making friends, and in your previous school you had floundered around until an extroverted adopted you. You hope Enid is the one to do it.

“Look, I… I run a gossip blog for the school, so I know a lot of stuff. You don’t want to be near Tyler, he is bad news.”

“Tyler?” You ask, feigning confusion. You feel silly. Of course, she doesn’t want to be your friend, she is just trying to warn you. And sure, the boy was rude, but is she implying it will hurt your popularity or something? Who cares about that? You feel sick to your stomach. Nevermore is more similar than you thought to your previous schools, it still has teenagers, drama and power plays. This was supposed to be a place in which you would be safe, you would feel at home, finally not an outcast. And if you obey to Enid, you could. You could make some popular friends and finally be liked. But it doesn’t sit right with you.

“Yeah, he… He is done some pretty nasty stuff.” She whispers to you. “You know about the murders?” And how could you not know, when it had been the first thing that popped up when you googled Nevermore? You had read all about it, how the records had been sealed because the perpetrator was still a minor at the time and not in his right mind.

“It was him?”

“Yeah, look, stay clear of him. He is dangerous. It’s for your own safety.” Enid insists.

“I don’t think what you are doing is fair.” It slips out before you can contain it. You squeeze your eyes shut, now you feel idiotic. You can tell by the expression on Enid’s face that you have blown any chance of a friendship with her.

“He could hurt you, and he is so… so nasty!” Enid complained. You kept quiet, the so could you unspoken. Gossip blog? Really? Were you supposed to take her seriously after that?

So, you go straight to the source.

“Tyler, hi.” You hate what you are doing, heart beating wildly in your chest. But it isn’t right, what they are doing with him. Warn off anyone who even talks to Tyler?

“Hi.” He smiles at you, and you know his kindness is going to run out once he figures what exactly do you want. You wring your hands in front of you, anxiously. Your cheeks heat up. What you are about to ask is so rude, you fear he will snap at you.

“Did you kill all those people?” Even if you whisper the question, it still feels loud, the words echoing in your ears. You can’t take it back, but how you wish you could. Tyler face falls, brows furrowing together.

“Yes. That is what they told you?” He asks, and you physically recoil. So, it’s true, Tyler is a murderer. The thought doesn’t compute in your head. Sure, he can be brash, and he isn’t the friendliest, but nothing about him screamed homicidal maniac at the first glance. You don’t want to believe it. Still, you flinch. At your sudden move, his expression gets sadder, and you feel the urge to console him, to touch him, pull him into a hug. Anything to get that look off his face. Tyler’s eyes are wet, mouth curled in a grimace that screams pain.

“I… I…” For the first time in your life, you are speechless. What do you say to him? You grab his hands in between yours, trying to calm him down.

“No.” He says, pulling out of your grasp. You don’t dare follow him. “We aren’t even friends, we sat together in one class. Go. I don’t need your pity.”

“But…” He is right, of course. In the end, you are strangers, tied together by a silly twist of fate. It just happened you were the new student, and he was the only one sitting by himself. It could have been Enid, or any other person in the classroom. A coincidence. It didn’t matter. But you wanted to help him, and didn’t understand why the rest didn’t try. He was hurting! Couldn’t the rest of Nevermore see that? Besides, aggravating the mass murderer wasn’t really the path to a long, healthy life. Your heart hurt for him. He must be lonely, after all of this. And surely, if he really were so terrible, they wouldn’t have him here, right?

“Yes. I killed all those people, I enjoyed it. But I was manipulated to be that way, I was drugged and fucking assaulted. There. Your morbid curiosity is fulfilled. Any other gory details you want of the worst time in my life?” Tyler spits out, hands coming to tangle in his hair. He seems on the verge of crying from frustration. In a move neither of you are expecting, you advance the steps that separate you from him, until your bodies are flush with each other, and you wrap your arms around him. Tyler tenses at first, whole body going rigid. Then, he sighs and melts in your embrace, hands coming to hold you back hesitantly.

You keep hugging him, unaware of the smile he is pressing against your hair. You are naive, and shy, and oh so focused on doing the right thing, that if you probably noticed, you would excuse it as a friendly smile. Tyler knows the truth, he knows himself. It’s the smile of the predator that plays with his prey just before eating it.

He can’t tell when he loses his control. At first, he is nice to you because you are sweet and pretty, and he wants to ruin you. You are also kind and help him feel less lonely. Tyler knows that. He is trying to get you to fall for him, not because he likes you, but because it is convenient, and he hopes to own you. You are perfect. Perfect for him to ruin.

He does it slowly, going from standoffish to sweet, but finds it harder and harder to be mean, especially when you look up at him, all wide eyes and innocent smile. So, he tests himself. One day, when you are excitedly explaining the essay you are writing, he tries treating you like he does to any other outcast.

“…And here, the teacher said I could…”

“Will you shut up?!” Tyler says, and it’s still softer than he would say to Wednesday or Kent. But your eyes get wet at the harsh tone, blinking to keep the tears away. There is an embarrassed look on your face, like a child scorned. You feel silly, ranting at him about your homework when he is clearly in a bad mood.

Tyler can’t stand it, the sadness in your beautiful eyes. He gets up from his chair, his homework forgotten. He kneels in front of you and grabs your hands in his.

“Sorry. Sorry.” It feels like his heart is being ripped off his chest, with the way your lower lip is trembling. Tyler knows then he is fucked. He would do anything to wipe the expression off your face. If someone told him a year ago he would be on his knees, begging for a girl’s forgiveness, he would have laughed. Hell, if someone told him that months ago, he would have never believed it. Tyler kisses your knuckles, one by one, uncaring you are in the library, where everyone can see. “I… I didn’t mean to snap at you…” The lies taste bitter on his tongue. What if he stopped trying to manipulate you, would you stay? The idea makes something flutter in his stomach. “I was just… I was having a bad day, but I’ll make it up to you.” He presses a kiss to your knuckles one last time, sneaking a glance to your face. The flush on your cheeks is still embarrassed, but you seem taken with the way he has been pressing kisses to your hands. There is a delighted little smile fighting to appear.

You card a hand through his hair. Tyler sighs, head tilting, offering more of himself to be pet. He is touch starved. You had noticed that when you hugged him the first time, and vowed to try to give him as much affection as he needed. He never notices the way you smile during those times, how much you like this power at your fingertips. One smile from you and Tyler melts.

Then, he starts to slowly spiral. His attraction to you had been instant, but he had been able to act as he pleased. Now, he is losing himself into you, and it’s scary. Most things he does, he does because it will bring a smile to your face.

“Here.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek and sliding a bar of chocolate towards you. It’s your favorite because Tyler pays attention. He wants to know everything about you. He ignores the odd looks that the rest of your classmates are giving him. So, what if he wasn’t in AP Lit as you were? You didn’t have breakfast, and you needed to eat. “Promise me at lunch you will eat real food.”

You smile up at him, totally charmed. Tyler preens under your gaze. Someone makes a retching sound. You look in that direction, and Tyler does, too. He doesn’t like it when your attention isn’t on him, he likes it less when you frown.

Tyler presses a kiss to your forehead, glaring until the guy almost pisses his pants. He is careful, so you don’t see his expression. He knows you don’t like him being an asshole to everyone, and so, he tries to be on his best behavior. It’s hard, but so worth it.

You are waiting for Tyler at a booth, hands placed lightly on your lap. You had begun dragging him out to Jericho more and more, determined to take the town for exposure therapy at his presence. At first, the whispers had been loud, but now it had reduced to two voices, one not so convinced.

You know Yoko, Enid, and Wednesday are following you every time you go into town, at the later request. But the first two seem much more unconvinced about it when the days keep passing and no murder happens. They get sloppy about it, uncaring you hear them converse.

“Ugh, what’s up with him?” Yoko says, and you heard the tell-tale sound of someone sitting down. “Not even in AP Lit, and still fucking terrifying. I don’t know what the girl has, but please, girlie, share.”

“I think it is cute. Tyler looks at her like she hung the moon, and at the rest of us… like he wants to skins us alive. “ At hearing that, you can’t help but smile. You will train Tyler out of glaring at other people, given enough time. But for now, it is enough. You like being the only one. Tyler is cute, sweet and very eager to make you happy. You can’t help but be attracted to him.

“I don’t believe it for a second.” Wednesday glowers, from her spot in the booth.

“He is in love! Maybe he is reformed!” Enid says, and you don’t need to turn around to know she must be smiling. She enjoys the whole thing too much, being the first of the trio to cease her distrust. “For love, how romantic!”

“Or perhaps she is manipulating him…” Wednesday eyes the way Tyler runs to get you a coffee and insists on covering the bill. You aren’t as good as him at hiding your satisfied smile at how taken he looks. But Tyler is oblivious enough to take it for a besotted look. “Maybe the Hyde has a new master.”

“And good riddance to the old one!” You say, under your breath, and go help Tyler with the drinks. You reward his efforts with a kiss to his cheek.

Slowly, you start spending more time together. This fantasy you are both living in, it’s fun. You like the way he looks at you, the way he presses kisses to your cheeks or puts your hands on the sleeves of his sweater when you are cold. It feels like some old romance movie, and Tyler swears he is the one doing all the wooing, he is the Danny to your Sandy. He doesn’t realize you have him right where you want him.

People talk. Of course, they do. When you first start to drift closer and closer, the whispers are mostly like Enid’s. Concerned. You are such a quiet little thing, shy, friendless, new. Is he taking advantage? Tyler wonders so himself, beating himself over the fact he enjoys this manipulation, how he doesn’t regret it. After all, he can play the good guy like no one else, with the “Aw, shucks” routine and the shy smiles, the charming whispers in your ears. Fooling you is easy, or so he thinks because you are a romantic at heart, like every girl. Who doesn’t like the bad boy who is willing to be good just for you?

Sure, maybe he didn’t fool Wednesday Addams, but he can have you. You lack her suspicious nature, you are warm and trust too easily. You wouldn’t try to even lift a taser. That tiny pair of hands, the delicate wrists? He can tell you have never thrown a punch in your life, nor done any heavy lifting. No, you weren’t at all like Wednesday.

You are on your knees, painting tiny flowers on the art project you both are working on. This time, you didn’t even have to ask, it was given you were doing it together. Your tongue pokes between your teeth in concentration, hands stained with paint. Tyler watches, mesmerized by how you look on your knees.

“Fucking hair…” You say, pushing back a strand with your wrist.

“Quite a mouth on you, sweetheart.” But he crawls towards you, and grabs your hair in a loose ponytail. Your breath hitches, barely, but Tyler hears anyway. His senses, the Hyde, are so finely tuned to you, it’s scary. Even the smallest changes don't go unnoticed.

He can’t help but test this newfound power of his, pushing, always pushing. He tugs a little harsher at your hair, and your head follows the movement, neck extended in a tantalizing curve, and he wants to bite you so bad… His eyes track the way your glossy lips part, almost into a groan, but even if your body is tense as a bow, you don’t pull away.

“What are you doing?” You ask, slightly out of breath.

“Fixing this.” He comments, and your eyes flutter closed. You like having your hair played with, he has noticed. Tyler wonders what kind of sound he could pull from your lips if he was actually trying. The thought is too much, and so, he gets up, and walks towards your vanity. He needs to clear his head. This feeling of spiraling, of losing control, this Tyler doesn’t like. “Where are your hair ties?”

He tells himself not to worry. Maybe he is actually falling in love with you, but you are right there with him too. Perhaps Tyler fell first, but you are falling harder. He can tell. It’s all in the way you blush when his thumb brushes your cheekbone, how you sigh when he hugs you, hands going lower and lower each time. There is no resistance, you are surrendering.

You weren’t fooling Wednesday Addams, either, obviously. When the whispers go from concerned to admirative, the rest of the school seeing how good Tyler was for you and how you have changed him for the better, she glares. Wednesday can tell you are manipulating Tyler right back. Possibly, so does the rest of Nevermore because it’s obvious to everyone with eyes he worships the ground you walk on. So, what if the guy is an asshole? He is head over heels for you. Tyler doesn’t really care, too busy simpering for your attention. You have become his whole world. You don’t ask, but you know, you know, he would kill for you.

It’s almost like you are already dating, really. Every free moment is spent with each other, you are in his clothes more often than not. It's such a fun game, you can’t help but be charmed. Your legs tangle together, hands grasping at each other desperately, but you know, you know he won’t kiss you. Not yet. You realize this early on.

This time, you are sitting on the dock, bare feet submerged in the water. You are wearing a nice lip tint, that makes your lips pop just so. You had decided today was the day you got him to kiss you, it's the next step in this play of yours. There is something about him that makes you want to own him, even if everyone in this school knows he is your boy. It’s not enough. You want him completely, eyes only in you.

“I think… If my mother hadn’t died, I would have still… You know.” He doesn’t meet your eyes at that confession. You frown, you don’t like him sad. He is not fun that way. If he will be broken, you will be the one to do it, not some stupid redheaded woman with a vendetta and a town full of hypocrites.

You take his hand, squeezing encouragingly. You like him sharing secrets, all shy and sheepish.

“I don’t believe in destiny. But some things… I sometimes wonder if they are fixed points in time, things that need to happen.” You answer, carefully eyeing his reaction. Tyler remains calm, one of his hands coming to your jaw, tilting your face up, so the moonlight illuminates your features.

Tyler can smell fear. The Hyde can, he enjoys it, revels in it. There is none coming from you at his confession, and it makes him feel better. Currently, he has the upper hand. Now he knows if he were to kill again, you would cover up for him without being asked. You would do anything for him.

So, he thinks he is manipulating you. It’s cute, in a way. You would have stayed without it, just for him, but this makes it way more interesting, raising the stakes in a way that has your blood pumping in all sorts of good ways. Tyler himself is awfully cute and smart, and you like the way he is playing along with this cat and mouse game of yours. But you know, you have to be the one to kiss him. He needs to feel more in control, and so, you are willing to accept losing this battle, in exchange for winning the war. And so, you plan it the perfect way of showing everyone he is yours.

You wait for a cloudy day, at lunchtime. You have dressed lightly, on purpose.

“I’m cold.” You complain, tugging your sleeves over your hands. It’s a familiar routine, you have it practically rehearsed. Any moment now, he is going to offer you either a hug or his jacket.

“Why do you always forget to wear a jacket, sweetheart? At this point, I think I’m doing more bad than good, spoiling you…” Tyler complains, but as always, he takes his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

“But you like spoiling me.” You pout to him, ignoring the disbelieving look the whole quad is giving you. No one gets away with giving Tyler attitude, hell, no one gets away with talking to Tyler except you.

“Or you just like wearing my jackets.” He teases, hoping to make you blush. You do because he is good at it, and pairs the remark with a genial chuck under your chin. You might be the one in control, but you are weak for this boy.

“Or… I just like you.” You say, looking at him from beneath your lashes. Tyler mouths open and closes in surprise, the faintest trace of pink appearing on his cheeks. Before he can retaliate, you press a chaste kiss to his lips and sprint away.

Tyler laughs, loud and sweet, and gives chase. He is much like a golden retriever, always willing to run you down. You shouldn’t find it endearing, but you do. He thinks he is this sort of big predator, a wolf, but he has fallen for the trap of domesticity. Tyler finally caughts up with you near the dorms, pining you to the wall and peppering your face with kisses. You laugh, then, with genuine excitement. You wonder if you too are falling for the trap of domesticity.

So, you are a thing now. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Things… Things don’t change much, there is more kissing and touching, but Tyler doesn’t press you to make things more intimate. He genuinely cares about you, and you don’t know what to make of it. You care about him too, you might be falling for him.This is a time bomb, not a relationship. And you know it is going to explode in the most delicious way.

It all comes to a head when you start having sex. This is nice, you guess. Tyler is careful, but you know he wants to do more than just fuck you slowly and lovingly into the mattress. The hunger in his eyes mirrors yours. He fucks you well, but it’s lacking. It’s like something you would do to like, the wife you don’t love after thirty years of marriage. It lacks passion. This isn’t what you two are.

“Okay.” You say, the next time he thrusts into you, whole body tense and not from pleasure but from containing himself. You can tell, by the way his jaw ticks, how his eyes darken when he looks at you. He wants to ruin you, but he doesn’t think he is allowed. “Tyler, babe, this is not working.”

He freezes, pulling away from you and plopping down on the bed.

“Are you okay? What do you mean?” Tyler is genuinely concerned. You don’t know if you were that good at wrapping him around your little finger, or he is in love with you for you. You don’t care. Second guessing is half the fun. Besides, he is yours either way, either by force or out of his own free will.

“I mean that I need you to throw me around a little, choke me if you can.” At that, Tyler makes a face, mouth dropping open a little in an expression that is of real surprise. He seats on the bed, next to you. You don’t bother covering your nudity, or even closing your legs. If things go your way, and they will because you have worked hard at this, it’s nothing but a brief pause.

“I don’t understand.” He states, looking at you with eyes so big it’s almost funny.

“Oh, don’t play coy now.” You take one of his hands and press it against your throat. It fits you perfectly, like a beloved collar. His fingers tense up on instinct, bruising you in the most wonderful way. “I know you want to.” You singsong. Tyler stares, and dumbly comes to stand back between your legs.“What, you really thought I was going to buy your act?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Tyler deflects, but his face tells another story. There is hunger there, some fear too, but also delight. Almost like he wanted to be caught.

“This is getting old really fast, Ty. Look, let’s get this over with. You tried to manipulate me. I manipulated you. None of it was real, or maybe it was the most elaborate courting ritual ever. Whatever. Now, will you fuck me like you mean it, or are you going to keep pretending to be something you aren’t?” His face goes from surprised, to doubtful and then anger. It seems like he doesn’t like the idea of being manipulated, like it’s only okay when he does it. Tyler was still angling for the upper hand, even if you discovered him. Oh, he is perfect. Perfect for you.

“So you aren’t as innocent as I thought.” Tyler thrusts back in, with a smooth flex and roll of his hips. It’s not soft, nor considerate. Your mouth falls open at the stretch, even wet as you are, the intrusion is sudden, and it stings a little. This time he isn’t pulling any punches. No. He grabs you by the jaw, forcing your lips to pucker together and making you look like a fish. His grip is bruising. “Answer me.”

“What do you want me to say?” You can barely ask. Finally, you think, this is more like it. He thrusts harder into you, making you whimper.

“You are a real bitch, did you know?” Tyler noses at your jaw, licks a line to your earlobe. You give a little, desperate pant. It’s animalistic, this thing of yours.

“Well, I don’t see you complaining.” You laugh, clenching around him. Tyler bites at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, hard enough to make you gasp. You start to think maybe you bit more than you can chew with him, hips snapping harshly against yours. You try to pull away, and he grabs your wrists, forces your legs more open.

“Don’t you see?” He asks, pinching at your nipple until you cry out and kick half-heartedly at him, back arching, brain so fuzzy you don’t know if you want to pull away from his touch or pull closer, closer, until you merge into one person. “Love is like this, for people like us.”

The admission is sweet, so sweet, you never want this to end. You muster your strength and buck up against him, turning you, so you are the one who is on top. He is going to give you hell after, but you don’t care. He is finally yours. Completely.

I LOVED your last Larissa fic 😩. Can I request Larissa's (vampire) wife coming to visit her in her office after she told her she's been stressed lately? Reader doesn't live on campus so the students are like ooh new student? but then they find out she's their principal's wife and they're like oop.

thank you! Ofc!

The Principal’s Wife

Larissa Weems x Vampire!Reader

Summary: You pay your wife a visit to Nevermore.

You got a call from your wife earlier that day, asking for you to come have lunch with her in her office since she wasn’t able to meet you at your favorite diner just like every Friday. She sounded exhausted so you agreed and got takeout before heading for the infamous school, black shades covering your eyes.

You noticed their looks as you walked past the gates, black heels clicking against the cobblestone, ignoring any whispers or gossip. 

You stopped by an unusual-looking girl, her hair in pigtails and uniform dyed black. “Who are you?” She asked, her voice emotionless. 

You grinned, “Direct, I love it” You took off your glasses since you two were inside and grinned at her. “You must be Wednesday. Your mother and I were great friends”. 

She looked at you for a few seconds, head tilting before she raised an eyebrow, “you’re Y/N? My mother never shuts up about you” she looked you up and down in a judgmental stare.

You chuckled, “It’s been a long time, indeed” you put your glasses back on as one of the students opened the door, letting some sunlight creep in. 

“Damn it! Anyways it was nice meeting you, Wednesday. I wanted to know where I could find the principal’s office, it's been so long I'm sure I forgot my way around here” she pointed behind you and you nodded at her, walking in that direction before a blonde girl stopped in front of you, jumping up and down.

“Hi!! I’m Enid! You must be new here” she grinned at you, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Oh, god no!” You scoffed, “I’m not a student, I’m here to see the principal” you stated before Larissa's assistant, who you've met a couple of times was aware of your arrival.

"Mrs Weems!, right this way!" you followed her before hearing the continuous gossip behind you. "Did she just say...MRS Weems?".

You walked with her assistant as you stared at the improvements that occurred under your wife's regime, it was incredible how hard Larissa worked to turn this place from a medieval tavern to a modern, technology-filled school to embrace outcasts from around the world

"Principal Weems, your wife just arrived!" her assistant announced as you got in with the plastic bag of takeout. You gave her a fangy grin, taking off your shades and hanging them on your blazer. She thanked the woman before the door was closed and your grin turned into a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, darling” she smiled weakly, leaning her head back on her chair. You placed the bag of food on her desk.

“Oh, draga” you frowned, walking behind the desk and cupping her face, leaning down to kiss her red lips softly.

You had missed her terribly. She stays on campus a few days a week, the others she stays in your shared house just a little outside Jericho, though she hasn’t done so in a while. 

She hummed, leaning her head down to rest against your stomach, Your thumbs rubbing her shoulders. “What happened?” you asked when she got off of you, standing up to sit in front of her desk. 

“the mayor is furious” she started, fingers on her temple as you took the food out the bag and placing it in front of her, urging her to eat. “I thought the outreach day had gone well, but of course the Addams need to leave their stamp everywhere”  she unwrapped the burger angrily.

 You took a blood bag out, stabbing it with a straw and shrugging as you said “it was an ugly statue anyway” she squinted her eyes at you. The only reason you even went to that stupid unveiling was that you swore on your undead heart that you’d be there for her. 

“I’m sorry, it just is!” you slurped on the blood, a little trickling out of your lips. “you know you won’t kiss me after drinking that, right?” she asked rhetorically. 

“I was thirsty!” You groaned, causing her to smirk. Larissa loved you endlessly, but there’s no way she’d be kissing you with fresh blood in your mouth. 

After she finished eating, you requested a ‘tour’ around Nevermore, considering it’s been decades since you’ve been here. She reluctantly agreed and linked her arm with yours before opening the door, seeing students crowding outside the office. 

“What are you all doing here?” She said, a hand on her hip. They all stared at you in surprise. “We wanted to meet your wife, of course” a bald, black girl stated with a smirk causing Larissa to roll her eyes.

“Everyone to class, now!” she roared and they dispersed. You let out a chuckle before the tour started.

Half an hour later, you were almost done with the tour when she took you to the greenhouse to see a red-haired woman watering plants.

“Principal Weems! Who’s this lovely lady?” She grinned, you just knew she was bad news at the way she looked at you.

“This is Y/n Weems, my wife….y/n/n, this is Marilyn Thornhill, nevermore’s first normie teacher!” Larissa proudly introduced and you shook hands with the woman, you said nothing as you saw her eye your wife with a weird expression but you stopped yourself from draining her blood right then and there.

you gave her a fake smile before Larissa sensed the tension in the air and excused the both of you.

She walked you to the gates with a frown. “What happened in there?” Her hands cupped your pale face before you squinted at her.

“Wh..what? You don’t see it? She’s weird as hell!” She shook her head.

“Never mind” You kissed her hand, “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

She shrugged “I’ll see if I finish all the paperwork tonight”, leaning down to kiss your lips slightly, sighing in relief when she didn’t feel the aftertaste of blood before hearing cheers behind her.

She turned to look at the students with crossed arms. “You guys are so cute!!” Enid squealed before they were shooed again and you kissed her one more time before driving home.

She won’t admit it, but she’s glad her students actually cared to get to know the love of her life.

A/N: I got goosebumps when writing "Mrs Weems" please don't tell me I'm alone in this 😵‍💫

Tom Bosley before Happy Days (1 of 2) (1959-1972)

Tom Bosley's big break came when he landed the lead role in the Broadway Musical Fiorello! in 1959 about the Mayor of NYC from 1934-1946 and winning the Tony Award for his portrayal.

Tom Bosley as Fiorello La Guardia on Broadway in 1959.

Tom Bosley as Teddy in a TV Movie version of Arsenic and Old Lace in 1962 which starred Tony Randall and even included Boris Karloff.

Tom Bosley in an episode of Car 54, Where Are You? as a counterfeiter posing as a Preacher boarding with the Toodys not realizing Toody is a policeman.

Tom Bosley appeared in an episode of Naked City in 1963 as a judge hearing case of spousal physical abuse.

Tom Bosley as an executive in an episode of Route 66 in 1963.

Tom Bosley in his first theatrical movie Love with the Proper Stranger in 1963 with superstars Natalie Wood and Steve McQueen as an awkward, nervous date of Natalie Wood. Tom was 35 years old at filming.

Four months later in 1964, Tom Bosley appeared in The World of Harry Orient as the father of one of the girls tormenting Harry Orient played by Peter Sellers. Bosley's wife was played by Angela Lansbury.

Tom Bosley was in the first episode of Jericho in 1966, a WWII show about a team of Allied members working behind the lines as sabateurs and intellegence agents. Bosley, a civilian radar expert is called into duty, but his lack of confidence and bravery threaten the mission. This show lasted only 16 episodes. But the picture quality is very good. Other shows Tom Bosley guested on during this time were Ben Casey, Dr. Kildare, Ther Defenders and The Girl from UNCLE.

Tom Bosley's next movie role was in 1967, Divorce American Style starring Dick Van Dyke and Debbie Reynolds. Tom played newly divorced Debbie Reynolds first date where she learns how vast the extended families of multiple divorcees can be.

Bosley's next film was a spaghetti western, Bang Bang Kid in 1967. In the late 60's many American actors did at least one.

Tom Bosley's next movie was The Secret War of Harry Frigg starring Steve McQueen in 1968, playing one of the Generals taken as Prisoners of War. This was his first, maybe only shirtless scene as far as I know.

In early 1968, Tom Bosley was in an episode of The F.B.I. as a criminal suspect.

You Sweet Thing

Larissa Weems

Summary - In which Jericho High School has a new Principal that Larissa has taken a fancy to. [5.5k words]

I may write more for this if people like it x enjoy <3

~

Carlisle Monroe. A nasty piece of work, an older man, pushing his late sixties. He was balding on top, a circlet of wiry grey hair wrapped around his head, and in a vain attempt to hide this fact, longer strands had been combed over. But they were so sparse the reflection of his shiny head still shone through. He was a portly little man, short and stout, always wearing a cheap ill fitting suit, made of scratchy fabric that was bobbled. Always accompanied by a tie, tied sloppily - with some visually offensive pattern.

Larissa was never one to judge someone’s appearance, her issue with Carlisle Monroe was who he was as a person. As a human. However she did question if he was human or if he was the devil's spawn. The latter seemed more feasible. He was a greasy man, and despite her towering stature always talked down to her, as if her job as Nevermore’s Principal was simply her playing house. Any issues or proposals she brought forth at meetings were dismissed unless Mayor Walker (may he rest in peace) reiterated what she had said, and then he’d nod along and agree enthusiastically. All the while his eyes would be roaming free over her body. A sickly hunger and greed behind them. It wasn’t just Larissa, he regarded any woman like that.

His misogyny was one thing but his beliefs about outcasts took the cake. Although he did a fine job hiding it, he hated outcasts and although Larissa couldn’t prove it, he definitely partook in underground groups that wished to maintain the normie-outcast divide. It went against everything Larissa believed in and worked for, and with a man like Carlisle Monroe as the headteacher of the only other highschool in Jericho, it made it so much harder. The younger generations were crucial when it came to trying to instill changes. The inability to build a healthy rapport between the two schools and student bodies was a major setback. Larissa kept any direct correspondence with Monroe to an absolute minimum.

Outreach Day was fast approaching again, and given last year's less than desirable events, tensions were high. And Larissa’s schedule was chock full - not a single meeting could be rearranged to make time to meet Jericho High’s new Prinicpal.

She was surprised that a new headteacher had been appointed, as far as she knew, Monroe had an ironclad grip over the school - money did wonders to keep his controversial opinions under the table. However it seemed it was a sudden and unexpected vacancy - the position was filled internally. It was all very hushed and rushed. But it must not have affected the school as all arrangements on their half for Outreach Day had found their way to the new Mayor, Finch Sawyer, in a timely fashion. It had taken Jericho a short while to reinstate a new Mayor after the untimely death of Nobel Walker. The man was kind and fair but overall he was quite the plain Jane. Not really memorable.

~

Last year’s Outreach Day you had been out of town on bereavement leave, so you only found out about the arson and melted statue of Crackstone from colleagues after you had returned. You were also aware of the incident with a former student of Jericho High and Nevermore Academy that had seen the death of many - everyone was, the press had had a field day and it was the talk of the town. You could understand how prejudices spiked after the whole fiasco but you had always been quick to point out that it was an ex-pupil of Jericho High and a normie who had been behind it all, and that the Nevermore bunch had been the ones to bring an end to it. You were never one for gossip so you had only ever bothered reading the bare facts about it. It was important to know what was happening in the world around you.

You had only taken on the position of Principal for just over a week but prior to that you had been the Vice Principal so not much changed for you. If anything it was a natural stepping stone - and you were glad to take it. Working with - no, rather working under Monroe was tedious and infuriating. The man made your blood boil and numerous times he had you seriously considering quitting. Garnering respect from the student body and teachers was a walk in the park - you had been teaching at Jericho High for eight years as an art teacher, your ninth year teaching you were promoted to faculty head, and the previous year you had taken the deputy position. And now you sat at the top. Or as close to it, the School Board were the faceless higher beings.

There were many changes you were making to the school, banishing the last traces of Monroe from the school. He had done an alright job running the joint, but he was old fashioned. And arrogant. Times were changing and you were the breath of fresh air Jericho High needed.

Currently you were observing the band’s last rehearsal for the unveiling of a new statue that would replace Crackstone’s. One would have thought the melted bronze would have been taken down swiftly after the whole Nevermore incident but it still remained, covered in tarpaulin. Until the new one started its construction.

The band instructor, Mrs. Huxley, approached you once they had finished, students scrambling to disassemble instruments and pack them away.

“They’ve worked hard on it,” she said with pride as she stopped beside you.

“They have yes,” you chew on your thumbnail, “do you think it’ll go okay tomorrow?”

“Can’t be any worse than last year,”

You let out a wry chuckle, “fair point,” the pair of you watch as the ensemble slowly filter out the assembly hall, “right, I have some emails I need to reply to, enjoy your evening.” With that you excuse yourself and head up to your office.

It was a modern room with the walls painted white, it was spacious, a sleek desk with three chairs facing it. In the corner sat a small couch with a coffee table, a fake plant in the centre. Multiple filing cabinets dotted the walls and you had taken down Monroe’s obnoxious paintings. He hadn’t much time to empty the space and the wall decor was the least of his worries. You had shoved them all in an unused janitor’s cupboard in a forgotten corner of the building. You kept meaning to take them home for firewood but had never got round to doing so.

You turn on your laptop and prepare to handle the small mountain of emails you had to deal with. The one that caught your interest was from Mayor Sawyer, he wanted you to give a small speech before the new statue was unveiled. Something about new beginnings and he seemed to think your new promotion made you the right fit for it. Little short notice is it not? you think to yourself. Just when you thought you were finally done for the day, you had a silly speech to chuck together.

You don’t return to your flat until late evening, your ball of black fur of a cat, Richard, meows at you, demanding to be fed as if he didn’t have a full bowl of dry food available at all times. You slap a pouch of wet food into his bowl before rummaging around your cupboard and fridge for any ingredients you could throw together to make a meal out of. You manage to come up with noodles, soy sauce, and some bacon. A very odd mix but it’s food nonetheless. Your evening is spent watching rubbish on tv with Richard curled on your lap.

~

“Miss. Addams,” Larissa’s tone is light but there’s an icy edge behind it.

The young girl stops mid step and looks over her shoulder at the Principal, eyes unblinking as she stands with perfect posture, students passing by them either side to get to the courtyard.

“You would be wise to behave today, pull any stunt like last year and there will be dire consequences,” the threat was evident in Larissa’s voice despite the sickly sweet smile she offered.

Wednesday glares at the woman before brushing past her, following the rest of her peers. With a frustrated sigh Larissa follows, heading to the humble wooden podium set up. Just like the years past, she addresses her school and wishes them a good Outreach Day before giving the go ahead for the duties to be divied out. Last year they were all random, this year Larissa took it upon herself to assign certain duties to certain students.

Larissa wanted something that would keep Wednesday busy, and Uriah’s dump- sorry, Uriah’s Heap was a suiting job. It was creepy and absurd, surely it would appeal to Wednesday. Plus, not many people willingly entered the shop so her chances of upsetting a member of the public were slim. She had also made sure that swapping jobs was not allowed, an oversight she had made last year.

~

You stand in the town square, watching as people set up the bleachers and the podium, the new statue sat behind it, completed and covered. You had heard it had taken a more artistic approach, and Sawyer wished to keep it a surprise until the very last moment.

Your students run across the town to their jobs, and those in the band are busy setting their music stands in the little pagoda before they too head off to their assigned duty. It’s a nice day for Autumn, not too cold but chilly enough for a cosy jacket. In your hands you toy with a piece of paper, your speech written on it. You had done your best to memorise it but you still worried you’d forget it. So better safe than sorry.

It seems the Nevermore lot turned up later than yours, partly due to the Academy being a good twenty or so minute drive away. Slowly the streets begin to fill with the distinctive purple striped uniform. You head off to the Weathervane, giving a warm smile to the outcast kids as you walk past them. You have some time to kill before you have to meet with the Mayor.

~

Inside the cafe is moderately busy, two Nevermore students and two of your own are behind the counter with one of the employees. Since your school didn’t have a uniform like the Academy, all pupils wore a lanyard with a card at the bottom bearing the school’s emblem. To help identify them from the general public.

The small queue moves quickly and soon enough you’re at the front, placing your order for a plain old hot chocolate with a Nevermore student, her name tag read ‘Enid’. She was exceptionally chatty, asking you if you were going to attend the unveiling later on, and then without waiting for your answer started to tell you about how she was in the dance ensemble. You humour her with a fond smile, showing genuine interest.

“Your drink will be ready at the end of the counter! Thank you!”

You faintly hear her yell out for the next customer as you walk to the other side to the hand-off. Occupying yourself on your phone, going through new emails. It was a never ending cycle of correspondence. It got tiring but it was a quintessential part of the job.

A few moments later the actual employee calls out for a hot chocolate hesitantly, turning the paper cup in his hand looking for a name but finding none. He just sets it down on the counter and heads back to the espresso machine.

You reach a hand out but another one goes for it at the same time. Your head snaps round to the person next to you only to see their shoulder. Casting your gaze up you meet the surprised expression of a woman you can only describe as angelic. Bold red lips contrasting with the soft puce shades of her eyeshadow. Gentle eyes of blue crowned with dark lashes meet your own and you just look at her with your lips parted. Your own eyes wide. Drinking this tall woman in all her beauty.

“Oh god, I’m sorry! Is this yours?” Your words come out jumbled and rushed, “I ordered the same, I thought it was mine, sorry!” You pull your hand back to your body and fight the blush that wants to paint your cheeks.

“Uh… another hot chocolate? For… someone?” One of your students calls out weakly, drawing your attention, “I think it’s your one Miss,”

“Ah, thank you Oscar.” You take the cup and look back at the stranger, “Sorry again,” you apologise sheepishly.

This roused a deep chuckle from her and you quickly come to adore the sound.

“You’re quite alright,” Her English accent takes you off guard, “It seems the kids haven’t quite got the ropes in here,”

You hum in agreement, “Indeed so,” you mumble almost inaudibly, “you have good taste,” you add hastily.

“As do you,” the woman regards you with a warm smile, her eyes raking over your form. She opens her mouth to say something else but a movement from outside the window catches her eye.

You follow her gaze to see a young girl, wearing Nevermore’s uniform but in grey, slip out of Uriah’s Heap and look both ways in a shady manner.

“I need to go suddenly,” her voice tinged with ire, she looks down at you, not in a condescending way but because she quite literally towers over you, “I do hope to see that pretty little face of yours again, darling,” something about her intonation at the pet name stokes a fire within you. Her hand goes to hold your face, her thumb stroking your cheek.

Before you can even think to lean into her touch she’s taken her leave, and you stand there, face scarlet, watching her until she’s disappeared out of sight. You’re very much convinced you had seen an apparition because there’s no way such a divine heavenly being like that woman is in a backwater town like Jericho.

You eventually come back to earth and busy yourself in a booth, pouring over your little speech again. But the way that enchanting stranger called you darling keeps echoing in your head. You regret being too stunned to ask her name or get her number.

~

It’s no question that Larissa is well known in Jericho, running the only outcast exclusive school of the county meant she had to play politician with the Mayor and other figureheads in Jericho. As was the nature of her job. You knew of her, but surprisingly had never seen her in the flesh. Your years as just a teacher meant attending Outreach Day was optional, and you had been out of state for last year's one when you were Vice Principal, otherwise your presence would have been required.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but watching a woman with the beauty of an old Hollywood star approaching you and Mayor Sawyer was not what you had in mind. She was tall and carried herself with a confidence that had you blushing and unable to take your eyes off of her. The sway to her hips was hypnotic and as she got closer you realised it was the woman from the Weathervane.

“Mayor Sawyer, hello,” she holds her hand out to the man for a quick handshake before turning to you, “I don’t believe we’ve met. Properly, darling.”

“No… no we haven’t, Atikah Karnstein,” you can’t help to look up at her with the same expression from earlier in the coffee shop. She offers her hand to you and just like the Mayor, you shook it, noting how it engulfed yours and how slender it was. You find it doesn’t feel right, you’d much rather kiss the back of it with reverence. But you control yourself and keep it professional. So this is Larissa Weems you think to yourself.

You hold her hand a second too long, you clear your throat and go to remove it but hers tightens imperceptibly, so you decide to not to pull away from her touch, “I’m the new head for Jericho High,”

“I’ve heard,” she gives you a charming smile and god forbid she winks. You feel your throat dry and your heart picks up the tempo.

“All good things I hope,”

This elicited a delightful sounding chuckle from her. The way her eyes squint and lips stretch into a grin has butterflies exploding in your stomach.

The Mayor looked between you, unsure if he should disrupt this moment you seemed to be having. Ultimately he decides to, “Well, with the introductions aside, we’re almost out of time. I need to go check the statues all ready, I’ll see you ladies at the podium in five,” he then takes his leave.

You ruefully tear your gaze away from the blonde beauty and nod in acknowledgement, “Yeah, I should check my lot are ready too,” you look at Larissa and give her a painfully awkward nod. She gives your hand a squeeze before relinquishing it. Wordlessly giving you permission to leave.

The blonde watches you with amusement as you spin on the spot and hurry away.

~

You sidle up next to Mrs. Huxley and another music teacher, Ms. Boyd. The three of you stand on the grass in front of the bandstand as the students go about fine tuning their instruments and adjusting their music stands.

“They clean up nicely,” you comment. Red had always been your favourite colour, and it just so happened to be the colour of the band uniform. Pride blooms in your chest.

“They do,” Ms. Boyd agreed with you.

“Are they nervous or are they feeling okay for this?”

“They’re doing just fine, aren’t you?” Mrs. Huxley answers this time, calling out the last part of her sentence, receiving a chorus of ‘yes’ and other equivalents. They sound enthusiastic. That was a good sign. “See? Don’t worry so much,” the older woman places a hand on your tense shoulder. You relax them and take a deep breath.

“Good… good, just I heard of last year’s Outreach Day… I want this to go well,” you start to pick at your cuticles, a nervous habit, “it’s my first one as Principal, it won’t bode well if it goes tits up,”

Both women laugh. And you slowly join in with a softer, more reserved one of your own. Mrs. Huxley was an exceptionally short woman, only reaching your chin, with gray hair that sat in tight ringlets close to her head. She was like the school’s doting grandmother, with wire framed reading glasses hanging around her neck on a dainty chain. Always sporting floral patterned dresses with cable knit cardigans, a string of pearls always adorned her neck. Whenever she saw you she gave you hard boiled sweets unprompted. And always made sure you had eaten something at lunch. She had aged gracefully, kindness and empathy behind every single wrinkle on her face.

For the next five minutes you watch Ms. Boyd and Mrs. Huxley coach the ensemble through small sections of the performance to warm them up. And then, all too soon it’s time to take your place and start the ceremony.

~

Yourself and Larissa stand on either side of Mayor Sawyer as he addresses the crowd, saying something along the lines of new beginnings and how he’s honoured to be serving the townspeople. You zone out, on autopilot as you keep a relaxed smile on your face, and your posture straight. Mentally reciting your speech in your head. In your hand you have your paper just in case.

Sawyer ends his talk and you take the cue to turn around and watch as the ties are cut and the tarpaulin flutters to the ground as the crowd applauds it, you clap along too. As the material peels away your face turns from the polite smile to a pained grimace. The statue, cast in bronze, was some abstract design, of clashing shapes and textures, not forming a single recognisable thing. The longer you looked at it the worse it got.

The corner of your mouth pulls up in disgust, almost sneering at it, you're glad your back is turned to the cameras. That’s what you have to give an uplifting speech about? You could kill Sawyer, he had talked about how great the statue was and was insistent on keeping it a secret, wanting it to be a grand surprise. As an artist at heart, you respected the abstract but it was something you could never fully understand or appreciate.

From the corner of her eye Larissa watches your expression and stifles her laugh.

With a shuddering breath you turn around at the same time as Larissa and Sawyer, camera shutters go off and you all pause to smile briefly. You then switch places with the Mayor, on the podium you’re the same height as Larissa. And you’re hyper aware of her presence right next to you.

You wait a beat for the crowd to settle down again, not flinching at the bright flashes from the photographers.

“This statue stands as a symbol of hope and new beginnings, to commemorate the turn of a new leaf for Jericho and the relation between outcasts and normies.” You count slowly up to two in your head, “Whilst history should be remembered, so the mistakes of our ancestors are not repeated, we should not dwell in the past.” Another count to two, “Here’s to bridging the gap and coexisting harmoniously!”

Another outburst of applause is heard from the crowd followed by your band ensemble’s performance of Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. Whilst the focus is on them, you go to return to your original spot but an arm has snaked around your waist. You peer over at Larissa who gazes at you expectantly. You hop off the podium so you stand next to her, and once your feet are back on the grass she pulls you flush to her side. She gives you a conspiratory smile before watching the brass band. Not taking her hand off of your waist. You do your best to keep your composure

Meanwhile Sawyer just watched from his peripheral. Slightly perplexed and bemused.

You take a moment to covertly unfold the paper you had pressed into your palm and skim over your lanky loopy handwriting. Your speech went fine but there were a few things you’d forgot. Nothing major, but as a perfectionist you’re a little irked by yourself. Usually your memory was better than that.

Of course Larissa had been watching you, she leaned in just a touch and murmured to you softly, “You did a wonderful job darling, I’m impressed.”

Such praise from anyone else would have pissed you off, but it wasn’t from anyone, it was from Larissa and because it was from her it sent a warm spike through your body, and there was no hope in suppressing the red that tinged your face and the tips of your ears. A little detail Larissa took delight in.

You manage to whisper a strangled “thank you,” keeping your eyes trained on a spot faraway in the distance. you’re certain you’d have fainted if you looked at her.

The song finishes as the band holds the last note, letting it end in diminuendo. Leaving a silence that is shattered by cheers and more applause. Woefully Larissa removes her hand from your waist to join in.

“They play well,” she comments.

“Thank you, they’ve been working tirelessly as of late. I’m proud of them,” you speak warmly. After a beat you speak up again “A blonde, very bubbly, student of yours mentioned a dance performance. I’m looking forward to that,”

“I hope we meet your expectations then,”

“You’ve already exceeded them,” you add a playful hint to your voice. Giving her a smirk and you swear you see the faintest pink hue spread across her face.

You don’t listen to the Mayor's next speech. As important as Outreach day was, the presentation was the least important part to you, it was all to show face. The important part was the Jericho High and Nevermore students working together throughout the town. It meant they had to get along and build a rapport in order to successfully carry out the jobs assigned to them. That’s where progress was made in furthering a positive relation between outcasts and normies.

Soon enough a group of Nevermore kids clad in the school’s signature deep purple took to the space between the bleachers and podium. A speaker system came to life and an upbeat tune started to play. Enid, the girl from the cafe, caught your eye and gave you a bright smile, to which you returned with an encouraging wave. Larissa observed the quick interaction and it made her chest bubble with fondness.

The dance routine was captivating and you were so invested in it you didn’t notice Larissa’s hand find its way back onto your waist. You’re also unaware of your own hand coming to rest atop it, idly stroking your thumb over it.

~

The rest of the unveiling goes smoothly much to everyone’s relief. Larissa mentally rejoiced that a certain student hadn’t blown up the statue, although it was so garish she doubted she’d mind if Wednesday pulled the same stunt again.

Students involved in the unveiling went back to their assigned jobs, your band was to return to Jericho High to change and enjoy the rest of the day. You had excused yourself from Larissa and the Mayor, leaving them to discuss something pertaining to the Academy, you saw it the perfect time to slip away. Otherwise you would have happily stuck by Larissa’s side.

“That was really good guys,” you raise your voice to be heard as you approach your students who were all busy packing up. You scan the group and catch a glimpse of Ms. Boyd’s red shock of hair, carefully you weave through the students avoiding getting clocked in the face by tubas and trumpets alike.

“Hey, get yourselves some pizza when they get back to the school. Here’s my card, you can just leave it in my office. I need to swing by later today,” you pull your purse from your pocket and fish out your bank card. Taking the older woman’s hand and pressing it to her palm despite her protests.

“If I don’t see a charge for pizza on my statement I’ll give you hell,” you joke with a breathy laugh, and the redhead finally accepts the card.

“You’re too kind Atikah,”

“They deserve it, and so do the pair of you,” you say as Mrs. Huxley ambles towards you.

“You’re a good egg poppet.” With that old woman shoves a handful of hard boiled sweets into your pocket and does the same for Ms. Boyd.

You just shake your head at her antics but thank her nonetheless.

~

You had busied yourself the rest of the afternoon with strolling aimlessly through the town, picking up conversation with students from both schools. Just checking in on them and seeing how they were doing. The consensus was overall positive, and you were happy to see outcasts and normies getting along with little to no issues. Of course that’s not to say there weren’t issues but they seemed to be self contained and both parties kept it civil.

You had grown up in a large city where outcasts and normies lived together much better than they did in a small town like Jericho. Finding out if someone you knew was an outcast wasn’t much different from learning their star sign or their birthday. It was just a fact about them that existed and didn’t define them as a person.

When you first moved you were surprised at how different the dynamic was, and since then you made the effort to improve the relationship. And it had changed for the better in the last decade however there was always progress to be made.

At one point a news crew had ambushed you as you snacked on a sweet pastry from a small food van. You politely declined their impromptu request for an interview about your new position, and told them to email you to arrange it for a later date.

The day drove on until early evening, where you found yourself back at the town square facing the statue. You couldn’t help but stare at it, akin to the twisted curiosity that overcomes someone when they drive past a grisly car accident.

An unpleasant shiver overtakes you and you decide your eyes deserve to lay upon a more appealing statue. You look around the area at the people milling about, trying to appear nonchalant as you seek out a certain Principal. God forbid you look too enthusiastic in your search for her.

As if just the mere thought of her manifests her, a pair of large hands land on your waist from behind. You jump at the suddenness of it but as you look up you find yourself meeting baby blue eyes.

“Looking for someone?” Her voice carries an amused lilt.

“As a matter of fact I am,” you twist in her grasp so you face her, standing dizzyingly close, “you don’t happen to have seen a tall, strikingly gorgeous, and very forward Headmistress around, have you?” You bring a hand to rest on her bicep, absentmindedly running your hand up and down it.

“I don’t believe I have,” Larissa’s voice drops to a lower register as she purrs her words, “but if I do I’ll be sure to let her know that the local high school’s attractive and sweet little Principal is looking for her,”

“You would? You’re a doll,” you sport a lopsided grin. Enjoying her voice.

“Only for you darling,” she coos.

You exhale sharply from your nose whilst averting your gaze. A rich red blush covering your face. Larissa watches you with rapt attention, you were so fun to toy with.

She leans down, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear “A little birdie told me that this headmistress of yours was wondering if you would be interested in dinner with her later today,”

Larissa relishes how your breath hitches in your throat and your back arches just a touch. She lets her hands slide down to your hips so she can pull you closer.

“Hmm,” you look up and to the side, feigning being deep in thought.

Whilst humming and awing you pull one of the sweets from your pocket and make a show of opening one end of the wrapper with your teeth. Curling your tongue around the bonbon to scoop it into your mouth. Fully aware Larissa’s entire attention was on your lips. A cardinal hunger built in her eyes. You suck on it slowly before nodding.

“I’d love to,”

“I knew you would,” her eyes are still on your lips.

“Would you like one?”

Her gaze is back on your eyes, and she gives you a look. Her eyes squinting a little as she tries to figure out where you’re heading with this.

“If it’s as sweet as you, then please,”

You give her a devilish smile before parting your lips and rolling the sweet onto the tip of your tongue, holding it out a little. Covered in your saliva it glistens in the light. You jut your chin out, silently daring her to take it from you.

Teasingly slowly, Larissa closes the gap. Letting her parted lips press against yours before sliding her tongue along your own, earning her a soft moan. She takes her time exploring your mouth before pulling the sweet into her own. The whole time she maintains eye contact with you.

She pulls away, instantly missing the feeling of your lips on hers. A string of saliva connects them before it breaks. She keeps her mouth open as she works her tongue around the sweet. Your eyes follow its every move.

“Delicious,” she whispers, bringing her thumb up to wipe your lower lip.

“My mouth or the sweet?”

Her eyes darken, “your mouth.”

You giggle at her. Loving every second of the exchange. This woman was addictive.

“I’m afraid I have a few things I need to see to before I can wine and dine you, your phone. Please,”

Larissa silently pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you unlocked. Watching intently as you create a new contact and enter in your details. You lock her phone before passing it back to her, purposefully brush your hand against hers.

“Call me,” you give her a peck on the lips before turning heel and heading away into the town proper.

The tall blonde watches your retreating figure before looking back at her phone. You hadn’t put your name, instead you’d typed ‘Darling’ and put a little heart beside it.

~

AN - I do apologise for reader suddenly going from a flustered mess at Larissa’s flirting to growing a massive pair of balls at the end. Anyways I hope you liked it x

Also pls lmk if you prefer the double spacing between paras or the single space (all my other works are single spaced)

Reverie

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x cryomancer!reader

Summary: In the midst of investigating, a figure from your past returns, sending you into a panic. Wednesday is there to help pick up the pieces (and maybe get some revenge too).

Warnings: panic attack, implied abuse and violence, blood, reader is a Simp, it gets a bit morbid near the end lol, abrupt ending

Word count: 5.5k (sigh)

Notes: this fic made me realize just how much i struggle with character descriptions... but anyways this is a long request for literally the nicest anon ever, whoever you are i hope you enjoy this! 

Masterlist | Part 2

Silence was something that you cherished.

Throughout the years, the numerous group homes, revolving door of foster parents, and whirlwind of schools you attended instilled a yearning for calm and quiet. A need for peace to soothe your daily anxieties.

Loud noises were bothersome, they reminded you of things better left forgotten which is why you put forth your best effort to avoid them wherever you ended up.

Nevermore Academy was no different.

Though it was a school for outcasts, it was still a school. A place that housed hundreds of rowdy, unruly teenagers for the better part of the year. And teenage outcasts were still teenagers.

You learned quickly to avoid the quad at all times of day except after curfew, the only time when it was completely empty save for some roaming teachers. 

Lunches were spent in empty classrooms instead of the cafeteria and free time was spent exploring the campus for a place to claim as your own, like you have in every place you inhabited over the years.

But luck, it seemed, was not on your side because not a single place you found fit your needs.

Sure, there were quieter places like the library or the dorms (depending on the hour), but it was rare that found a place that offered actual meaningful silence.

Surprisingly, the solution to your problem came the moment you looked beyond the cramped campus of the school, and that solution was the forest.

The vast woodland that separated Nevermore and Jericho was thick, comprised of thousands of trees, and filled with life of all kinds—tall, vibrant green trees, a myriad of bird species, scampering squirrels, and even foxes during parts of the year.  

Unfortunately, not all of the life that resided there was welcome. You heard whispers of something in the forest killing unsuspecting hikers and truckers. The mayor said it was bears, but you knew better.

Knowledge of the danger that lurked amongst the trees only made the woods that much more enticing to you. You trusted your ability to keep yourself safe with your powers. A wall of ice was a simple thing for you to create, but not for someone (or something) else to break.

The forest became your safe haven. Because of the murders, both students and Jericho residents alike tended to keep their distance, which made your solitude nearly guaranteed.

The chirping of birds in the distance and whistling of the trees in the wind made for a beautiful ambiance to read in. And it remained unequivocally yours for the first part of the semester.

Then a new student arrived mid-semester.

You never went out of your way to look for her, knowing you would hate that kind of attention yourself, but you still managed to see glimpses. Truthfully, she was hard to miss.

A girl dressed head to toe in black, twin braids framed a permanently impassive face, dead eyes set on the path in front of her. With her came a sense of foreboding, like storm clouds on the horizon. You would’ve sworn she was also a cryomancer with the way she seemed to chill the atmosphere around her.

Students parted like the Red Sea when she walked through the halls, determined to avoid her wrath. Given the few rumors you heard in passing across the school, you supposed you couldn’t blame them.

But those glimpses were few and far between, mere moments when your eyes caught a flash of monochrome, then she was gone.

She shared a handful of classes with you, but she was always seated across the room from you, just out of your sightline. By the time class ended and you got your things together to leave, she was on her way to her next class.

The first time you truly saw her was in passing.

You were at your spot in the woods, resting your back against the broad trunk of a tree as you read when the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Curious, you glanced up toward the sound and sure enough, there she was a few meters away heading in your direction.

She paused when your eyes met but remained silent. The only indication of surprise was the way her eyes narrowed, brows lowering ever so slightly.

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone, you know,” she said. Her voice was cold as a winter breeze. You liked it, it suited her.

“I could say the same to you,” you shrugged, turning your attention back to your book. You kept your focus on your story, eyes dutifully scanning the sentences, but in your peripherals, you could see her still standing there.

Another moment passed before she resumed walking, heading off in the direction she had been going before and you couldn’t help the way your eyes lifted to the retreating figure, following her until she was completely out of sight.

A curious encounter, but not one you ended up giving much thought to.

Then she showed up again.

Only the very next day did she appear once more, the circumstances exactly the same as before. You read, she walked. Except this time she didn’t pause, just kept marching past you.

Same with the next day. And the next. And the next. You were almost convinced that you two had a pseudo routine when, with no warning, it changed.

One rather humid afternoon, you heard her footsteps and didn’t bother looking up, knowing she would just continue on her way. But today she didn’t. Today, her steps faltered as she went by you, and above your book, you saw her pivot.

Your eyes were drawn up by the unfamiliar movement. Brows furrowed, you watched as she settled against a tree opposite of you and rummaged around in her bag, pulling a textbook and paper out.

From where you were, you couldn’t see what the paper was, but the book you immediately recognized. It was a textbook for Botany—one of the few classes you shared with her. The paper must’ve been the homework that you finished in class.

You were almost tempted to offer your help, but you knew she had no need for it.

So you turned your attention back to your book, reading a bit slower with the distraction of the girl across from you.

The worksheet, unsurprisingly, took Wednesday all of ten minutes to complete, but she stayed there with you for the better part of the afternoon, pulling out a book after she finished the homework.

Not a word was spoken between either of you, not even an exchange of names. Just you, her, and the blissful, silent serenity of the forest around you.

She left at sundown, packing her things and walking away without sparing a glance your way. You left soon after, a smile pulling at your lips.

When she returned the next day, that same smile appeared. Even when she didn’t stop to sit.

Your pseudo routine had shifted.

Some days she left to venture into the forest, some days she stayed with you. And though you were content to just sit with her when she allowed it, you couldn’t help but wonder where she went off to on the days she chose to keep walking.

Your answer ended up coming from Enid. The girl had asked to sit next to you in Vampire Anatomy class and you didn’t have the heart to say no.

Through the blog posts that Enid insisted you read, you learned that her name was Wednesday Addams, and she was trying to find the “monster” that lurked in Jericho’s forest.

Your existing interest was piqued after that. The urge to tag along with her pulled at you every time you watched her disappear into the forest, but you tried to ignore it. 

Though true crime had always been a passing interest, it wasn’t something you knew quite enough about to be of any actual use to Wednesday.

Still, you couldn’t help but try.

When you asked to join Wednesday in her investigation, you expected a cold and firm no. Instead, she neither accepted nor declined your offer. Simply looked at you, normally dull eyes shining chaotic as lightning, then walked off into the forest, leaving you scrambling to catch up.

Thus began your actual new routine. You’d head to the forest after class, read until Wednesday arrived, and wait until she informed you of her afternoon plans.

If she sat against the tree that you’d begun to call hers, then the afternoon hours would be spent together in blissful silence. But if she didn’t, she would walk past you, only pausing briefly to spare you a glance, extending a silent invitation that you always accepted.

Afternoons that weren’t spent in the serenity of the forest were spent acquiring evidence, gathering information, and sussing out any potential suspects.

Weeks of slow, but steady progress were made (mostly by Wednesday) and you enjoyed every second of it.

She still didn’t offer up much information about herself—her likes and interests (aside from general morbidity) were never so much as alluded to during your time investigating, but you liked that. 

In your mind, she was like a puzzle that not many had the patience to put together. But you enjoyed the intrigue, savored the challenge.

You kept much of your own history to yourself as well. If asked you would say that you did it in a bid to make yourself seem more mysterious, but really you just didn’t like talking about it.

The past was something you desperately just wanted to forget and Wednesday excelled at making you do just that, even if she didn’t know it.

Before you knew it, you found yourself falling for her in a way you never had before. But who could blame you, really?

A short, but statuesque figure with eyes like black ice and a constellation of freckles scattered across her cheeks that put the stars to shame. How anyone couldn’t be entranced at first glance was beyond you.

Your closeness with Wednesday, even if only for professional purposes on her end, served to further the distance between you and your classmates but you didn’t particularly care. What they feared, you admired and while you could understand their fear, you couldn’t fathom ever being afraid of Wednesday. Even at her most grotesque, she was enchanting.

Stupid as it may be, you’d follow her anywhere. You knew that, once you exhausted your welcome, she would likely discard you, but until then you’d just sit back and enjoy the ride with her.

This sentiment led you to Outreach Day.

To put it simply, Outreach Day was a goddamn mess.

Part of your day was spent in a pilgrim-themed dystopian hellscape trying to find information on Joseph Crackstone, another deep in the forest behind Jericho, searching the dilapidated remains of a meeting house from centuries ago.

Naturally, this culminated in the two of you getting chased by the very monster you were trying to investigate, which certainly wasn’t part of your plans for the day when you woke up, but with Wednesday you never really knew what you were going to get.

Fortunately, your near-death experience wasn’t for naught because you had learned one incredibly important fact.

The monster, whatever it was, was human. It was someone that either lived in Jericho or attended Nevermore Academy with you and Wednesday. Likely, it was someone they had already interacted with, knowingly or not.

That thought haunted you the entire long walk back into Jericho. So much so that Wednesday had to tell you to calm down because you were freezing the rain around you into snow and leaving icy footprints wherever you walked.

By the time you stepped back into the town, you were ready to go to your dorm and call it a night. Thankfully, the day was almost over. The only thing standing between you and your bed was the stupid statue unveiling everyone was forced to attend.

You were walking to the town square when it happened.

Thoughts about the monster’s identity were just starting to abate, boredom taking its place as you entered Jericho proper. Wednesday was beside you, matching your strides perfectly while she talked with Thing about something you couldn’t quite hear.

Even in the middle of the day, the town wasn’t bustling (though when was it ever?). A few residents peppered the streets, going about their day quietly while you and Wednesday passed them.

You idly scanned the town goers, eyes snagging on a woman on the opposite end of the road who looked oddly familiar.

The woman had her head turned, appearing to be on the phone with someone. You watched her carefully, slowing your pace slightly, and when she finally turned her head, it instantly clicked.

Walking down that street was your former foster parent, Mary.

You could remember the day you met her like it was yesterday.

It had been years since you’d been adopted out and swiftly swept back into the system once your last family found out that you were an outcast. You’d been told that someone was finally interested in you again and you were overjoyed to meet them.

Mary was a tall woman with a kind smile and the name of a catholic saint. You weren’t religious, but you figured (hoped) that it had to mean something.

You thought her your savior, your ticket out of the system forever, and she ended up being responsible for the worst years of your life.

When you snapped back to the present, you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Wednesday was a few steps ahead, giving you a strange look. You wanted to explain or, better yet, grab her and drag her out of the town entirely, but it was too late. Mary was already looking your way.

Your eyes met and suddenly, you were twelve again. Angry shouts reverberated in your ears, mimicking the way they echoed off the cramped walls of the house. You saw yourself cowering in the face of her anger, shrinking into yourself as much as you could.

There was a flurry of movement, a sharp crack, and even now you swore you could feel the sting of the impact on your cheek.

She hated you, and you could still see remnants of that hatred now, even from across the street.

Distantly, you could hear Wednesday say something, but the sound was muffled by the roar of your blood in your ears. Despite the cool temperature, you were beginning to sweat, heart rate gradually picking up as you stared at the ghost from your past.

Mary hung up the phone and started toward you. That was all you needed.

The last thing you felt was the brush of cold fingers on your wrist before you ran.

You ran and ran and ran, feet carrying you as fast as physically possible. There was no real destination in mind, just away from her.

When the burning in your chest became unbearable, you stumbled into an alley. Your chest heaved and just as you were going to try and catch your breath, your legs crumpled beneath you, sending you careening into the nearest wall. You slid down to the ground and squeezed your knees to your chest.

Clarity evaded you no matter how much you tried to find it. You had seen people you knew in public before, even your other former foster parents, so you had no idea why seeing her was affecting you so badly.

Your heart pulsed endlessly in your chest, blood pumping through your veins like you were moving at a million miles per hour, yet you were frozen, your body permanently suspended in motion. A living contradiction that you couldn’t make any sense of.

The pain in your chest intensified, drawing your limbs in to try and relieve the ache. It felt as if your body was trying to collapse in on itself, like a dying star.

Tears gathered in your eyes, and you were helpless to stop them from streaming down your cheeks as the ache grew.

For an awful moment, you genuinely thought you were going to die.

A flash of movement and suddenly there was something—no, someone in front of you. They crouched before you, their face coming into view and familiar dark orbs stared at you in a way you’d never seen before.

Wednesday.

Relief momentarily cut through your misery. You figured she would find you at some point, likely after the ceremony, but the fact that she was here now made something other than agony bubble in your chest.

Suddenly, you noticed that her lips were moving. She was saying something. You tried to focus your hearing against the chaos, but nothing could be heard over the erratic beating in your chest. Frustration mounted, making you further curl into yourself.

Wednesday moved a bit closer, stopping just short of you so she was the only thing in your line of sight. This time you were just able to catch the tail end of her statement. “-st look at me.”

You complied.

“Identify five things that you can see. You don’t have to say them out loud,” she instructed you, slowly and firmly.

You took in her words, but your eyes never strayed from her.

The first thing you saw was her eyes. So dark that they appear black in most settings, but under direct sunlight they reveal themselves to be the most beautiful shade of brown you’ve ever seen. Second was her hair, the way her wet fringe clumped together, forming short tendrils on her forehead.

Next, you were drawn to the starry sea of freckles on her cheeks. The temptation to try and count them tugged at you. You disregarded it, wanting to complete the task at hand for Wednesday.

Your eyes moved to trace her jaw, number four on your list. It was clenched, the way it always was when she was either angry or worried about something. You briefly wondered which one she felt now.

Her lips were the fifth and final feature you saw. You didn’t let yourself think about them for long, simply cataloged them.

Once you mentally documented all five, you looked to Wednesday, your breaths coming somewhat more consistently.

“Got it?” she asked, voice sounding a bit clearer now. You nodded. She continued. “Alright, now four things you can feel.”

You stiffly unclasped your hands and set them on the ground at your sides.

Surprisingly, the first thing you felt beneath your fingers was the solid frigidity of ice. In your panic, you must’ve partially frozen the alleyway around you. The warmth of the air around you told you that you hadn’t frozen too much, thankfully. You counted the temperature as your second.

Third, you felt the weight of your soaked clothes. The way they clung to your skin pulled a small grimace from you. That segwayed directly into the fourth thing you felt—your wet hair. Droplets of water were still running down the back of your neck from it, making you shiver. Lastly, you felt the rough, uneven texture of the brick wall at your back.

Moving up slightly, you turned back to Wednesday, who was watching you attentively, and gave her a firmer nod. The tension in your chest was beginning to dissipate.

“Three things you can hear.”

Your ears perked and you tried to focus on the noises around you. Even on its busiest days, Jericho was a relatively quiet little town, so it was easy to hear things you normally wouldn’t be able to in more densely populated places.

The first thing your ears picked up was the chime of a ringtone a block or two away. A pop song, the kind that Wednesday detested. Second was a loud giggle from someone that sounded suspiciously like Enid. The sound of it almost made you smile. And third, the clatter of a cup onto the ground and an angry curse that immediately followed it.

Someone must’ve dropped their coffee. Again, you almost smiled. Your heart began to slow in your chest, the ache there subsiding as well.

Eyes returning to the girl in front of you, you nodded.

“Two things you can smell.”

That was easy. Wednesday’s usual scent of old books and incense was present, mixed with traces of wet grass, a reminder of your earlier excursion. Another smell you could identify was the pungent odor of days-old garbage. Your nose scrunched. Of course, you chose an alleyway with a dumpster.

Your posture loosened, muscles relaxing as you sent Wednesday yet another nod.

“One thing you can taste.”

The metallic taste of blood on your tongue almost made you startle. Pain flared in your cheek, an answer to your question of where it came from. You weren’t sure when you bit it, and presently, you didn’t really care.

Swallowing harshly, you gave the girl before you a shaky thumbs up. The firm set of her jaw relaxed as she continued to observe you. You returned the favor, gently resting your chin on your knees as you watched her.

“Who was she?” she asked, tone softer than usual.

Not expecting the question, you blinked. “Hm?”

“The woman, who was she?”

You swallowed. This was never something you wanted Wednesday to know about, but you supposed she deserved some sort of explanation after helping you. 

“Former foster parent. Just one of the many people to hurt me over the years,” you admitted with a wry chuckle.

Wednesday didn’t laugh.

The faint sound of instruments caught your attention. It seemed that you were officially missing the unveiling.

“Shouldn’t you be playing?” you asked, remembering Weems’ comment about Wednesday’s cello earlier that day.

“The Jericho high school band doesn’t need me. You do. Weems will get over it.” She maneuvered herself to sit down next to you, bringing her knees up to mimic your pose. The space between you was virtually nonexistent, but she still wasn’t quite touching you, which you appreciated.

A few minutes passed in silence. The lingering effects of your panic began to fade, leaving behind an all-encompassing tiredness that nearly made you slump over. 

Beside you, Wednesday sat perfectly still, occasionally sending glances that you pretended not to notice for her sake.

The chill she emanated was too soothing for you to really care about it anyways. You resisted the urge to lean closer, to steal more of it for yourself. But you just further lowered your body temperature with your powers instead.

You rested your head back against the wall. Honestly, just being within such close proximity of Wednesday was nice. You swore you could stay sitting there all day with her if time allowed…

An explosion in the distance made you jump. Concerned, you turned to Wednesday who looked much too unsurprised for it to be a coincidence. Only now did you notice Thing’s conspicuous absence. Brows furrowing, you leaned forward. “Wednesday, what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she replied easily, lips quirking at the screams of terror that arose from the town square. Promptly, she stood and tilted her head down at you. “Come on, we need to secure our seats at the back of the bus.”

A soft nod was all you could manage in response. Standing was more of a struggle than you anticipated, your exhaustion so heavy it felt as if it settled into your very bones and weighed your limbs down, but after a few attempts, you were on your feet.

The moment you gained a semblance of stability, Wednesday snagged your sleeve and tugged you out of the alley, her grip gentler than you’d expect as she guided you back to the bus. You didn’t miss the joyful spark in her eyes at the chaos unfolding around the town.

When you arrived at the bus, the door was wide open and your companion wasted no time hauling you both inside, immediately making a beeline for the back row. She stopped in front of the seats you occupied on the ride into Jericho, dropping your sleeve as she stepped aside for you to sit.

You gave her a tired smile, grateful that she was giving you the window this time, and collapsed onto the seat. Wednesday slipped in right after you, sitting noticeably closer this time. Close enough that her arm lightly rested against yours.

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you didn’t dare point it out. You just rested your head against the window and closed your eyes.

The slow arrival of other students and staff barely registered, your focus altering between the events of the hour prior, and the comfortingly cold weight of Wednesday’s arm pressing against yours.

The bus ride back to school passed by in a blur and you were being pulled off the bus by Wednesday before you even realized it had stopped.

In a similar fashion, Wednesday dragged you by the sleeve to your dorm, all but shoving you toward your closet once inside.

“Get changed and get some rest. I will return in a few hours after I deal with something,” she said, eyeing you as she edged back toward the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked, concerned that she would try to continue investigating by herself. Wednesday turned to you, and for a moment you were convinced she would tell you that “what she did was none of your concern” or just leave altogether without a word, but at the last second her demeanor shifted.

“It’s nothing to do with the monster. I won’t be putting myself in danger in any way, you have my word,” she assured you, tone firm. There was no room for argument, and if you were being honest, you were compelled to believe her anyway.

You nodded slowly. “Ok.”

She held your gaze for another second then turned and strode out the door. You stayed standing in your spot until her footsteps faded completely.

Fatigue weighed on you once more and that was enough motivation for you to quickly shower and change into dry clothes. You abandoned your discarded uniform in the bathroom to dry, halfheartedly trudging to your bed and flopping down on it.

Scattered thoughts littered your brain, taking you from one turbulent topic to the next. Crackstone, Wednesday’s vision, the monster, Mary—until Wednesday herself came up and instantly everything else was irrelevant.

You thought about the way she treated you today, how she helped you, how she touched you. It made you much happier than it ought to.

As your eyes slipped shut, you wondered about where she could be. You just hoped she was safe.

Finally, your exhaustion overtook you, thoughts of Wednesday sending you into a deep slumber.

-

Hours later, you were woken by a sharp knock on your door.

The harsh sound nearly sent you tumbling out of bed. You were half-tempted to not answer it, but Wednesday said she’d be back later and the last thing you wanted to do was keep her waiting.

So you dragged yourself out of bed and opened the door, smiling when you were met with Wednesday’s usual deadpan stare. She walked past you into your dorm, not bothering to wait for an invitation she knew you’d give her, and while you shut the door, you took the chance to look at her.

She appeared unharmed. Her uniform, now dry, was perfectly situated as always and not a single hair on her head was displaced. She looked as if she’d just returned from a peaceful walk through the woods, but something told you that was far from the truth.

Wednesday walked over to set her bag down on your desk, carefully slipping something out of it before turning to face you. She beckoned you over and you complied.

“I was told to give this to you.” She extended an envelope in your direction.

A brow raised as you took the envelope, inspecting it closely. You never got mail, so you were immediately suspicious, but it looked harmless enough. A simple, white envelope, entirely blank besides the small writing of your name on the back.

Curious, you ripped it open and to your surprise, it was a letter from Mary. The scrawl was messier than usual, almost panicked, but the handwriting was distinctly hers. You read through it slowly, your initial apprehension turning to disbelief.

The letter detailed all of her transgressions against you and how genuinely, unerringly apologetic she was for hurting you.

Under the body of text, her name was written in a red ink so dark, you’d think that it was blood… And there was a smudge of crimson at the bottom of the page. As if the ink had been crudely spilled onto the paper.

You knew you shouldn’t be finding enjoyment in this. Frankly, you should be terrified but the feeling that bloomed in your chest was the furthest thing from fear.

“Is it to your liking?” she asked, jaw set in determination. The look in her eyes told you that if you said no, she would go back to Mary and make her write another one. If she was still alive that is.

“Yes, it is,” you said, dumbfounded, “but you really didn’t need to do anything, Wednesday.”

“She deserved it,” she retorted, a touch of hostility in her tone. A beat. Then, “You said there were others. If you give me their names, I will hunt them down and seek retribution on your behalf.”

The declaration shouldn’t have made your cheeks warm, nor should the bloodthirsty look in her eyes, but it did. It was equal parts horrifying and charming—the perfect cocktail of emotions to get your heart racing.

Maybe Wednesday was starting to rub off on you more than you thought.

“That…won’t be necessary,” you said slowly. You knew you should just leave it; you really did. But you couldn’t help yourself. “How exactly did you find out where she was staying?”

The ghost of a smirk appeared on her lips, all traces of hostility replaced with blatant self-assuredness. “I have my ways.”

Her blatant cockiness pulled a laugh out of you, the first of the day in fact. You wondered if you were imagining the relief in Wednesday’s eyes at the sound. Turning back to the paper, you sobered a bit.

“Wednesday, seriously, thank you. This is more than most people have ever done for me,” you admitted. The ethics of whether you should be thanking her be damned, this was a touching gesture in your mind. Shameful or not, you were going to properly thank her.

The sudden emotional vulnerability seemed to catch her off guard, eyes widening slightly. But she caught herself quickly. Her eyes darkened a bit and her smirk softened, turning into something suspiciously akin to an actual smile. “Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

Another wave of warmth rushed through you, and you prayed that it wasn’t visible on your cheeks. It struck you that this was the first time you’d ever seen a (possibly) genuine smile on her face. 

With that, the room lapsed into silence and like always, you let it sit between you.

She, too, let the quiet linger, holding your gaze with a confidence only she possessed. For just a moment, her eyes flicked downward, the movement so fast it was nearly imperceptible.

Nearly.

It was over just as quickly as it began and by the time you properly registered it, Wednesday was straightening up, dark eyes fixed on yours once more.

“Our investigation will resume tomorrow assuming there are no more unplanned interruptions. Meet me in my dorm after classes tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, still trying to figure out if what you saw was real or another possible figment of your imagination.

She headed for the door, and you panicked. You wanted to say something, anything to get her to stay for just one more moment. But nothing came to mind (nothing you had the courage to say, anyways).

Suddenly, she paused, turned to face you once more.

“Good night.”

You smiled. “Good night, Wednesday.”

A final nod and she was out the door, closing it behind her with a soft click.

Again, you stayed there until the echo of her footsteps was no more. You looked down at the letter in your hand, pursing your lips. Reluctantly, you set it down on your desk. You would unpack all of your feelings regarding it later. Now, you had more pressing things to deal with.

For the second time, you flopped onto your bed, but this time, sleep was the last thing on your mind. In its place was the girl that chilled you with her presence mere minutes prior.

The smile on your face was immovable, as if it were permanently etched into your skin. You replayed the conversation over and over again in your head, highlighting the moments before she left.

You wondered, maybe pointlessly, if she could possibly like you back… Either way, you supposed it didn’t really matter now.

Even if she didn’t feel what you did, today’s ministrations proved that she at least cared for you on some level. That simple fact was enough to send you into a high unlike any other. 

The idea of her actually reciprocating your feelings only propelled you further, your giddiness threatening to swallow you whole as you lay in your bed.

You spent the remainder of your night in a quiet daze, your mind consumed with nothing but familiar obsidian eyes and an addictively deadly smirk.

Jake Green Whump | Jericho (2006)

IM BACK. 1x01 Pilot - Emotional, car crash, leg injury, bleeding, limp, weak, ambulancia 1x02 Fallout - Climbing/leg pain cont., limp, shot at 1x03 Four Horsemen - Limp cont. 1x04 Walls of Jericho - Slight limp 1x05 Federal Response - Confronted by Eric, mysterious knowledge, begins to talk about past 1x06 9:02 - Mitch lore, angry, knocked unconscious, punched, thrown, held back 1x07 Long Live the Mayor - Jonah lore (🥵), manhandled 1x08 Rogue River - Shot at, flashbanged, held at gunpoint, Iraq lore, hospital invaded 1x09 Crossroads - Spaced out (beginning), shot at, suicidal 1x12 The Day Before - Flashback; Afghan/Iraq/Contractor lore, wanted, friend dying, 1x13 Black Jack - Voluntold LOL (04:50), shoved, gut-punched w/ stick, pain 1x14 Heart of Winter - Truck flipped, leg pinned, bleeding, pain, slowly freezing to death, hypothermia, tired x3, comforted, guilt, confesses PTSD, emotional pain (+dad bonding), crying 1x15 Semper Fidelis - Hypothermia recovery, limp, betrayed, confrontation, held at gunpoint, knocked unconscious 1x16 Winter's End - Limping 1x17 One Man's Terrorist - Held at gunpoint, hostage 1x18 A.K.A. - Pinned, held at gunpoint 1x19 Casus Belli - Angry, worried, arrested 1x20 One if by Land - Hostage, interrogated, knife put to throat, shot at/surrounded 1x22 Why We Fight - (Flashback; POS/family drama), shot at, sobbing x2

2x01 Reconstruction - Manhandled, angry 2x02 Condor - Tackled, scared, angry 2x03 Jennings & Rall - Aggravated, more Jake lore! 2x06 Sedition - Surrenders, manhandled, [tortured; restrained, isolated, sleep deprived, heat exhaustion, dehydrated], coughing, hallucinating, weak, jolted awake

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 4

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Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Outreach Day is a verifiable disaster - our dear reader is ready to catch Larissa if she falls, and Larissa is falling alright - for reader, that is.

words: ~4k | ao3 link in title

chapter-specific warnings: none really, mostly fluff A/N: I am so sorry that it took so long to update this fic! I had to figure out where I was going with this and plot out the next chapters, and then I was very unhappy with this chapter for a very long time so I have been kind of just sitting on it. This one isn't my Finest work, however, I have done so many editing passes that I decided to just post it. Gotta get the story moving along, you know :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A warmth was quickly rising to your cheeks as Larissa spoke.

“Good,” you murmured, working to control your blush. “Because I really like you, Larissa.” Larissa’s eyes flooded with affection and you felt your breath hitch in your chest as she brought her fingertips up to stroke your jaw.

“My sweet one…” She sighed heavily. “If I don’t go now I’m afraid I’ll never leave.” She pulled away with an apologetic smile and rose to her feet. “Perhaps I can steal you away after the ceremony?”

“Yes,” you replied a little too fast, and you felt your fading blush spread once again as Larissa let out a chuckle. 

Squeezing your shoulder, the tall brunette disappeared towards the restrooms at the back of the Weathervane. A few moments later Larissa, back in her natural form, passed by you on her way to the exit, gloved fingertips grazing along the edge of the table you were seated at as a silent form of acknowledgement.

You finished the rest of your hot chocolate slowly, savoring the last drops whilst staring idly out the window and watching a group of people put the finishing touches on what you assumed to be the set-up for the ceremony. After a while, you could see Larissa come into view, deep in conversation with a man you’d never seen before - likely the mayor of Jericho.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, watching, but when the café had begun to clear out and Nevermore students and townspeople alike began to gather in the town square, you thought it must be nearly time for the ceremony and slipped out of your booth, heading towards the commotion.

The sun was shining as you settled in the back row of the risers that were set up, not wanting to intrude or be a distraction as Larissa attended to her professional duties. You twisted your hands in your lap, excited yet simultaneously nervous to see Larissa in her element.

A fountain topped with a bronze statue of Joseph Crackstone stood at the center of the town square. In front of that stood a small podium, to the right the Jericho High School marching band was settling into their seats. A young girl in a black and gray striped blazer sat off to the side with a cello between her knees. You assumed this was Larissa's student whom she had mentioned, though you thought it odd that her uniform was a completely different color from the rest of her class’.

A hush fell over the crowd as the mayor stepped up to the podium, with Larissa standing beside him - or, to be more precise, standing on the pavement beside him. You could barely contain your smirk when you noticed that, even like this, the mayor barely reached her towering height.

Mayor Walker began to address the crowd, and you shared a sweet, stolen glance with the object of your affections. Oh, how beautiful she looked, completely in her element, smiling brightly for the crowd and the camera. You couldn’t help how absolutely smitten you felt as you drank in her form, admiring the elegance and grace with which she presented herself.

The ceremony, however, soon turned into a complete disaster. Things had quickly taken a turn for the worse when the fountain had exploded with a loud crack, devolving the little town of Jericho into pure chaos. You’d quickly left the risers in search of cover, choosing to crouch behind a parked car as you searched the chaos for Larissa. When you finally caught sight of her, you could practically feel the white-hot anger radiating off her in waves as she glared at her student playing a frenzied cello piece without a care in the world.

As much as you wanted to reach out, to run over to her and soothe her, you could sense by her fixed gaze that now was not the time. At least, it seemed, she wasn’t physically injured. At that moment, Larissa whirled around and your gazes met. You could see the rage written plainly on her face, though it seemed she was working hard to control it as she stared back at you, nostrils flaring.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and pointed to it before dropping your gaze and sending Larissa a text.

Y/N: Are you alright???

Larissa: Physically, yes. Are you?

Y/N: Yeah I’m fine. 

Y/N: I’m going to catch a ride with Robin… 

Y/N: Please text me if you need anything! I’ll talk to you later? :)

You looked up to find Larissa giving you a nod, her lips turning up at the corners. It wasn’t exactly a smile, honestly her expression still bordered on murderous, but it seemed to be a small sign of her appreciation of your concern for her.

~~~

You spent the rest of the afternoon flipping idly through your art history textbook under the pretext of studying, but your mind kept wandering back to Larissa, worry for her well-being clouding your thoughts. What would she be doing right now? Had she had a chance to breathe yet? Was she able to take a break from dealing with the chaos that had ensued?

Y/N: I hope everything is alright <3 thinking of you!

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your fingers hovered over the ‘send’ button. You didn’t want to come off as needy. But then again, hadn’t Larissa said earlier at the Weathervane that it was okay to text her? 

Fuck it. 

Send.

You didn’t hear back from her in the following hours. Not as you warmed up leftovers for dinner, not as you curled up on the couch next to Cassandra to watch The Devil Wears Prada, not as you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas.

10:56 pm. Flicking off the lights, you snuggled into bed and pulled up the covers, the light from your phone screen illuminating your face as you scrolled through Instagram. 

A text popping up at the top of the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Larissa: Are you home?

Y/N: Yeah, why? Is everything okay?

Each minute that passed without a reply felt like a lifetime, your stomach dropping further and further with the radio silence. You tried to distract yourself with mindless scrolling but nothing piqued your interest - your thoughts were with Larissa, wondering what she could have meant. 

20 minutes later, you finally received a reply and relief flooded your body. Your heart began to pound as you read the text, excitement coursing through your veins.

Larissa: Can you come downstairs?

Was Larissa here? You threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, not bothering to get changed as you raced out of your apartment, grabbing your keys on the way out and nearly tripping down the steps as you rushed towards the parking lot.

There she was, much like before your first date, leaning against her parked car. From what you could make out in the dark, she was still wearing the plaid dress and gray coat she’d been wearing during the Outreach Day event. 

“Larissa,” you called out, thoroughly out of breath as you jogged towards her. Her head snapped up and she pushed herself off the car. You stopped in front of her, panting, and she leaned down and crashed her lips to yours in a bruising kiss. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do that all day,” she murmured against your lips. 

You deepened the kiss, licking into her mouth and feeling her sigh as her hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing possessively. 

When you pulled away, her breathing was ragged and her chest heaving. You looked up at her to search her face - she looked immaculate as always, but there was a clear exhaustion behind her eyes that you didn’t miss.

“I had to see that you were alright.” Larissa spoke softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you doing?” You wrapped your arms around her, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Larissa sighed, her fingers playing with a loose wave behind your ear.

“Today was a disaster,” she mumbled. “Everyone is absolutely furious… as they should be. I’ve been dealing with angry phone calls and emails all day.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“I have my suspicions. And the fact that it may be the fault of a student of mine doesn’t bode well for Nevermore.” She sighed, no real bite behind her words anymore. Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily, her face falling in defeat.

“Let me guess, that girl with the braids who looked absolutely thrilled to be there?” you teased.

Larissa snorted. “That would be the one.”

“I’m sorry about that...”

“Don’t be. I wanted to thank you for coming today, it made me very happy - I mean before everything fell apart.” A sad smile crossed Larissa’s face and it made your heart sink in your chest - you resolved you would do anything to never see her so upset again. “You looked very beautiful at the ceremony,” you said softly. “You look very beautiful,” you amended.

“Sweet girl.” Larissa’s gloved hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into her touch. “May I hug you?”

You nodded and were immediately pulled into a bone-crushing hug as Larissa pressed you tightly against her body. She buried her nose in your hair, inhaling deeply. You didn’t dare move a muscle, for fear of ruining the moment.

It wasn’t until a chill caused you to shiver that Larissa pulled back to look you up and down, taking in the thin fabric of your pajamas.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured before pulling you close again, rubbing her hands up and down your biceps in an attempt to warm you. “You’ll get sick if you stay out here much longer.”

You shrugged, burying your head under her chin. “You said to come downstairs… I wanted to see you.”

“I still have some things to take care of,” Larissa sighed as her hands found your head, fingers threading themselves through your hair and pushing you into her, as if trying to weld your bodies into one.

“Tonight? But it’s late.”

“I know. But this situation won’t fix itself.”

Larissa loosened her grip and you stepped back slightly, searching her face with a hint of a smug smirk on your own. “So you came all this way just to see me?”

Even in the dim light of the parking lot, you could swear you saw Larissa’s cheeks go pink. “I had to see for myself that you were alright... Is that okay?”

“That is more than okay, Rissa. I just thought you were ‘exceptionally bad’ at this?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Larissa giggled, her lips curling into a shy smile. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” she murmured playfully, leaning down to capture your lips in a languid kiss.

“Can I visit you tomorrow?” you whispered against her lips, your heart rate spiking as you waited for Larissa’s reply - nervous she would be too busy and say no.

“I would love that,” she whispered back.

~~~

It was raining when you pulled into a visitor’s spot at Nevermore the following day. You jogged up to the imposing building, shielding the cupcakes you had bought for Larissa from the rain, which had nearly soaked you to the bone in the brief time you’d been outside.

You navigated the halls of Nevermore by memory from the night you’d spent with Larissa, though you ended up taking a wrong turn somewhere (maybe you should’ve paid more attention, rather than watching Larissa the whole time she’d led you to her quarters) - you ended up having to ask a student for help. 

The hyper young blonde looked you eagerly up and down, eyes lingering a little too long on the cupcakes you were holding before agreeing chirpily and with a bright smile to walk you there.

The girl left you in front of the doors to Larissa’s office, adorned with a shiny gold plaque stating “PRINCIPAL WEEMS”, but not before shooting you another curious gaze that made you a bit nervous. You knocked on the door, waiting as you heard the faint click of heels against hardwood floors, then the creaking of the door as Larissa came into view. 

A bright smile lit up her face at the sight of you, morphing quickly into concern as she took in your disheveled appearance, absolutely soaked from the rain - hair sticking to the side of your face, sweater clinging messily to your body.

“Oh, darling, come in.” Concern laced her voice as she ushered you into her office. You heard the click of the lock as the door closed behind you.

“I b-brought you c-cupcakes,” you stated, teeth clattering from the cold seeping into your bones the longer you stood there in your wet clothes. You thrust your hands out in offering. “Y-you said you h-have a s-sweet tooth.”

Larissa looked between you and the cupcakes for a moment, eyes wide - you wondered if you’d overstepped, or if she was trying to find a way to tell you she hated cupcakes, but then she laughed - a full, belly laugh - and your heart soared.

“Thank you.” She grinned down at you and took the box from your hands, using her other hand to lace her fingers between yours and dragging you to the loveseat in front of the roaring fireplace. “Please, sit, let’s get you warmed up. I’ll be right back, love,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into her quarters. She returned moments later with a fluffy towel and some clothes.

“May I help you?” She looked almost shy - the idea of Larissa Weems being shy about anything made you giggle as butterflies erupted behind your navel.

“Of c-course.” You grinned up at her as she helped you remove your sweater and your t-shirt, then waited for you to kick off your shoes and peel off your jeans, leaving you in only your underwear. She dried off the damp bits of skin with the towel, careful to rub gently, lingering for a moment longer over your chest before blushing and dragging the towel across your stomach. 

Once dry you slipped into the clothes she’d brought you - a Nevermore Academy class of ‘91 shirt and a pair of black sweatpants, both items of clothing hanging awkwardly off your smaller frame.

You noticed the way her eyes darkened as she stepped back to regard you, her gaze roaming almost hungrily over your body. 

“See something you like?” you teased as you scrunched your wet hair with the towel. Larissa’s cheeks went pink, clearly flustered as she dropped her gaze to the floor, fidgeting in place.

You took a step towards her and wrapped your arm around her waist. You could hear her breath hitch at the contact and chose not to comment further, instead asking if you could kiss her. Larissa responded by dipping her head and pressing her lips to yours, hesitantly at first then more confidently, pushing her tongue into your mouth with little kitten licks that drew a whimper from your throat.

She broke the kiss and smiled down at you, brushing a wet curl off your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. “Will you sit with me for a while? I could use the break from work.”

You nodded fervently and settled back on the loveseat. Larissa sat next to you, pausing for a moment before scooting closer until your thighs pressed together. 

~~~

Larissa had nearly jolted out of her armchair when she’d heard your knock. After a near all-nighter (dragging herself reluctantly to bed at 4 am for 3 fitful hours of sleep) filled with damage control for Wednesday’s little stunt, coupled with a Sunday morning of responding to the emails she’d neglected the previous day, she was more than ready for a break. 

Now you were sitting on her sofa, in her clothes - the thought filled her with a lustful sort of possessiveness that she almost felt ashamed of. You were so tantalizingly unaware of your own appeal, of how much Larissa desired you. Not just sexually, though she did find herself at random moments missing your touch, craving the taste of you, yearning to feel herself inside of you again - but wholly. She longed every day to hear your voice, to see your bright smile as the first thing she woke up to in the morning, to get to know every part of you. She sometimes wondered if she wanted too much from you.

She tried not to get lost in her own thoughts and focus instead on your conversation.

“Cupcake?” you said brightly, reaching for the box of sweets, and Larissa couldn’t help the tinkering laugh that she let out at your childlike joy as a joyfulness of her own bubbled up within her, warming her from the inside out. She felt she could cry that you’d remembered her mention of her sweet tooth and had gone to the trouble of bringing her something - it had been far too long since anyone had done something so simple and kind for her without wanting anything in return, and her heart swelled.

She tried not to sound too eager when she said yes, though from your giggle she realized she hadn’t been all too successful. You wrapped your fingers delicately around one of the cupcakes - chocolate, with chocolate frosting - and brought it up to her mouth. Rather than taking it between her own fingers, Larissa leaned forward, sinking her teeth into the little cake and taking a large bite, feeling the frosting graze the tip of her nose.

Her stomach fluttered at your laugh, bringing a wide grin to her face as you reached out and swiped your thumb across her nose, collecting the stray frosting then bringing the digit to your mouth and wrapping your lips around it. Heat pooled in her core at the groan you let out, her eyes glued to your mouth as you sucked the frosting off your thumb.

Larissa couldn’t help herself - she closed the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips to yours and almost immediately deepening the kiss as she allowed her hands to rest on your thighs. She allowed herself to get lost in her senses - the taste of frosting on your tongue, the feeling of her soft sweatpants underneath her hands, the smell of your rain-dampened hair, the fluttering in her tummy. Her hands traveled up your thighs, getting closer and closer to your core. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you murmured - your breath tickled her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. Larissa pulled back in confusion, her brows knitting together as she searched your face. Then she yawned - she couldn’t hold it back any longer - and flushed as she realized exactly what you meant. 

“Told you,” you teased. Larissa felt her cheeks heat as you smirked at her. “How about we get you to bed?”

Larissa was ready to protest - she had been planning another all-nighter and really, she wasn’t that tired. But then she yawned again and found herself agreeing - “only if you stay the night.” She smiled, but the smile hid her nerves - she was worried she’d asked too much. 

“Okay.” You smiled back, brightly, and Larissa’s breath hitched in her chest. 

She stopped by her desk to switch off the lamp and close her laptop - guilt churned in her stomach when she saw all the emails waiting for her, but then she looked at the time - it was late and she was tired. Perhaps going to sleep and looking at them with a fresh mind in the morning wasn’t the worst idea. Then she looked up and saw you watching her with a smile, and she snapped the laptop shut.

Leading you to her quarters, she handed you an extra toothbrush and showed you where the towels were, then perched herself at her vanity to remove her makeup and take down her hair while she waited for you.

Larissa was almost ready for bed, having brushed her teeth over the kitchen sink, when she heard the shower turn off. The door to the bathroom creaked open and there you were, back in Larissa’s clothes, leaning against the doorframe and pulling a brush through your wet hair. 

“Thanks for letting me use your shower,” you said shyly.

Larissa chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me for that, darling. Come here.” She perched herself on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her, waiting for you to sit down. Once you did, she plucked the brush out of your hand and began to work her way through the tangles. The scent of her own shampoo in your hair - light and floral - filled her nostrils - it made her dizzy, and she found herself burying her nose in your hair, with one hand on your hip to ground herself.

Clearing her throat, she leaned back reluctantly and placed the brush on her nightstand. “There you are,” she murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’ll just get the lights.” She rose, flicking off the light in the bathroom and the overhead light for the bedroom, until the only source of light in the room was the glow of the lamp on her bedside table.

She climbed into bed next to you, settling under the covers and turning to face you. Her breathing stuttered - something about going to sleep with you, just sleep and nothing else, felt so intimate and domestic to her. Then you wrapped an arm around her waist and shimmied closer, and Larissa could rest her head against your chest. She could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, and she felt her own restless pulse slowly calm to match yours.

~~~

You awoke in Larissa’s bed, but this time something was different - she was still there with you, her arm slung across your middle, a dead weight on your stomach. Turning your head to face her, you couldn’t help the sleepy smile that spread across your face as you drank in her appearance, lying on her stomach - disheveled locks of platinum hair falling across her face; the way her pale lips, devoid of her usual bold lipstick, hung open to let out deep breaths; the little puddle of drool collecting on her pillow that had you grinning like an idiot.

The urge to reach out and stroke Larissa’s cheek got stronger and stronger, until you twisted onto your side to face her, brushing a soft curl behind her ear and allowing your fingertips to linger on her cheekbone. Larissa let out a sigh, nuzzling her head into the pillow as she slowly blinked her eyes open. For a moment she looked disoriented, but then her eyes met yours and her lips curled into a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice low and raspy with sleep - it might have been the sexiest thing you’d ever heard, and your entire body flooded with warmth. You pressed your lips to her own, relishing in the slow tenderness of the kiss. 

“Morning,” you whispered against her lips before kissing her again, deepening the kiss as you tugged her closer by the waist.

The sound of an alarm had Larissa pulling away and reaching over to her nightstand to grab her phone.

“What time is it?” you asked, playing with a stray curl that was draped over Larissa’s shoulder.

“7:30.” Larissa turned away from her phone screen to kiss you but you pulled back as dread began to course through your body. 

“Shit! I have class in half an hour!” You rolled out of bed, nearly tripping as the sheets tangled around your legs. “Are my clothes still in your office?”

“I think so.” Larissa pushed herself up and followed you into her office, attempting to shake off the feeling of disorientation as she watched you put on your jeans and sneakers.

“My sweater is still damp, is it okay if I just wear this?” you asked, tugging at the hem of the Nevermore Class of ‘91 t-shirt you were wearing. “I’ll give it back, I promise.”

“Of course, darling.” Larissa looked equal parts concerned and amused as you ran past her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of her office, yelling “thank you, I’ll call you later” over your shoulder.

x

tags for those who seemed interested: @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @eveymay @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places

let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part or want me to remove the tags ✨

Push or Pull

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven

Mayor Walker was dead.

This entire mess with the monster was getting out of hand in your opinion. At this point, you were ready to wash your hands of the situation. The falling rain was going to be your clean slate.

You couldn't help but glance at Wednesday. She fit well in the scene. Even with getting left behind while wounded, your heart seemed to still pull towards her. You hoped that you'd get over it soon.

With a final look, you follow the crowd as the ceremony ends. There was nothing more for you to do here but let the public mourn.

-----+++++-----

The rain finally let up, so you took some time to relax in the quad at night. No one was around at this time and for once, it was calm. You were laying on one of the many tables, staring at the night sky. Wisps of Foxfire float around as you practice your control of them. It was peaceful, at least until you felt a presence.

Wednesday was on her way to the Nightshade library when she saw you. The feeling of guilt, unfortunately becoming familiar, sprang up. With a sigh, she makes her way towards you. The only indication that you noticed was your hand dropping and dissipating the foxfire wisps.

"Can I help you, Addams?"

The goth hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I... The monster is called a hyde."

"Finally, I know the name of the thing that almost killed me. Life is complete." You groan as you sit up, still aching from the battle.

"Almost. You held your own."

"Yeah, only because he ran off before he could finish the job." You whirl around to glare at Wednesday, the anger and hurt beginning to bubble over. "And you left me behind to tend to your normie boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend." Wednesday was getting frustrated. No one seemed to understand why she did these things. "And clearly you survived. But if you desire, I can do you a favor in return."

You throw your hands in the air. "That's not how that works, Addams! You use my favor. You invoked me using my boon, that bracelet. You don't get to owe me because this was me repaying you." Your face was inches from hers. "You basically threw me at that... That hyde like I was a chew toy for some mutt only to get thrown away once I was ripped apart."

Wednesday knew she deserved this anger towards her. But she didn't want to lose you as an asset. You were valuable to her and her plans. At least that's what she told herself. She just didn't know what to say.

"I'm done. I'm tired of whatever relationship we have being one sided. I was stupid to think you had any capacity to care."

Emotionally exhausted, you turned to walk away. All you wanted to do now was to stay in bed for the next three days. But Wednesday's voice stops you.

"... At the Rave'N, what did you say to me?"

"What?" You turned, confused.

"During your performance at the Rave'N. You came up to me and said something along with the song. What did it mean?"

Steps echo as you walk up to her. Like during the dance, you take her hand and bring it up to your neck. Your vulpine eyes flash as her fingers curl around your throat.

"Destroy me more."

The words brought an unexpected shiver up Wednesday's spine. The way your eyes stare into hers brought a heat that nearly suffocated her. However, it disappeared as soon as it had appeared. You stepped back, letting her hand fall from your person.

"It wasn't in the way that was implied, but I guess it did happen." A sigh escapes your lips as you walk away. "Good luck with your endeavors, Addams."

You hope that you could avoid Wednesday for the rest of the semester.

-----+++++-----

Yeah, Jericho didn't allow the pleasure of avoiding people. The town was far too small. You should've known that Wednesday would find her way in the Weathervane when you walked through the door. Your eyes meet and neither of you seem to want to look away. Slowly, you look away as you walk up to the counter, only to end up face to face with Tyler.

There's an awkward moment before the boy slowly slides out from behind the counter with a cup in hand to walk to Wednesday and her companion. You click your tongue as the other barista steps up to take your order with apologetic eyes.

You relay your order, unintentionally listening to the conversation happening near you. Learning a little bit more, you couldn't help but be curious about the investigation.

"Your father gave you explicit instructions not to be near me."

"Well, my dad isn't here and I'm on a break"

You would've gagged, but you didn't want to make your eavesdropping noticeable. You did feel eyes on you though you didn't look to see who.

"A hyde needs to be unlocked by someone. Its master."

Almost imperceptibly, your eyebrow twitches at the news. Two people were the unsubs, not just one. You add a last minute item to your order wanting to learn some more. You curse your curiosity sometimes. However, the sheriff walks in and interrupts the conversation.

With your order in hand, you had no excuse to stay anymore. You made to leave, but not without making your presence known. Moving between Tyler and Wednesday, you bump into the boy while handing the goth a cup. An order of a quad to-go.

"Your order, Addams. Now we're even."

You didn't elaborate. You didn't have to. Wednesday knew you were acting as a distraction to keep Sheriff Galpin from pushing too far into the conversation. With a turn and salute to the sheriff, you exit the shop.

So much for leaving Wednesday alone.

-----+++++-----

Frantic knocking pulled you out of your reading. Your roommate had just stepped out ten minutes ago so you knew it wasn't her. Opening the door revealed a frazzled Wednesday to your surprise. She barges in and begins pacing.

"Yes, come on in, Addams..." You say sardonically. "So great to see you..."

You watch as she paces, muttering to herself. With a roll of your eyes, you sit on your bed and wait for the girl to address why she was here.

Eventually, Wednesday stops and looks at you. A quirk of your eyebrow gives her the signal to begin.

"Tyler is the hyde."

You furrow your brows in confusion.

"Wait, I thought Xavier was the hyde. I heard all about the arrest."

"While the evidence did seem to lead to him, I was... Wrong." It seemed to hurt her to say that. "I intend to rectify that mistake."

"So," you start. "How did you find out about Tyler?"

She hesitates, unable to meet your eyes.

"I got a vision after I... Kissed him."

You nod. "Ah..." It seems your heart was capable of breaking even more. You let a mask form to hide the sudden pain.

"What are you doing here, then? Why come to me?"

"I need your cunning. I have a plan to confront Tyler and make him confess his sins."

You cross your arms and lean back. "So you just need your asset back." With a scoff and shake of your head, you get up and move towards the door to let Wednesday out. "I'm not a tool to be used. I won't subject myself to-"

Wednesday suddenly grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you back. Her surprising strength yanking you back into your bed. As soon as you reorient yourself, you find that the goth was looming over you.

"I almost lost Thing to this investigation." The emotion on her face struck you dumb. "I refuse to let another person I care for get hurt. So please," her hands grip your shoulders. "Please help me."

Her words baffled you. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you finally make your decision.

"What do you have in mind, Wednesday?"

+______________+Tag List+______________+

@screechcat @trishatheotaku @halleest @ashlynnmalfoy @a-trash-person @rainbow-love4ever @ognenniyvolk @spadesinfodump

Prompt idea if anyone is interested in writing it please let me know ❤️

Prompt: As a bonding exercise Weems and the Mayor decide to send nevermore and Jericho high on a camping trip, due to unfortunate circumstances Wednesday’s tent messes up and Enid says she can stay in her tent but the only problem is it’s hot pink 😬 when the color gets to be too much for Wednesday she sneaks into Tyler’s tent and they have sex

Bonus: the next day Xavier gets angry when he sees Wednesday leaving Tyler’s tent while the others are just speechless. 😂

Love Notes (Ch. 5)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader We have an angsty chapter here, oops. Also, thank you all for being patient as I got back to writing! It took getting pneumonia to unblock writer's block somehow? Idk. Make it make sense.

AO3 link

In between moments not with Larissa, you worked on orchestrating the big reveal and scavenger hunt. There were a lot of moving parts to your plan, and it would take some secrecy to enact, because you were pretty sure you’d have to involve other people. The question remained of who you could trust to involve…

Eventually you and Larissa go into Jericho together. It felt like the most normal outing, the two of you laughing about something in the car ride over and planning how to continue your adventures and treats into the new semester. Spending time with Larissa came so naturally. Sure, you still felt killer butterflies when she stole a glance at you, but it felt right. That’s the only way you knew how to describe it.

While she briefly meets with the mayor and does a follow up interview with a new affiliate therapist for Nevermore, you planned to check out the florist shop for her favorite flowers. Even though you’re a few weeks out from your ideal time to unveil the mystery, you’re not sure if securing lilies would be possible so early in the spring.

Through the windows of the town hall, Larissa sees you chatting outside with the local florist. A man with an apron on and the kind of scruffy looking beard that seemed like it was naturally charming but actually took work to achieve. Larissa knew almost everyone in Jericho personally by now, but all she had known about him is that many of the women around town fancied him.

At that moment, you had casually touched his arm, like he was an old friend. What was that? she mused, oblivious that the therapist in front of her had finished answering her question. Her mind wandered to whether or not you fancied him.

“Larissa?” The voice brought you out of your pondering.

“Apologies! I was simply considering how wonderful it will be for students to be able to confide in someone again, especially after the year they’ve had.” Larissa’s scrambling to save her indiscretion was believable, so believable that her conversation partner smiled wide and thanked her for her consideration and support in their employment.

Placated and wrapping up the meeting, Larissa resumed pilling through her memories to discern if you had ever mentioned the florist before. She was certain you hadn’t. An ache began to creep into her heart when she considered, Is this why you pushed to come to Jericho?

After finishing her conversation with the mayor, Larissa waits in the foyer of the town hall to watch your interaction with the man before heading to the Weathervane. Larissa began to get lost in thought again, Why do I care? I’m not involved. In fact, you owed me nothing. You’re not mine. I mean, no one has a claim over anyone. That notion is an archaic and patriarchal way of thinking—one that doesn’t value consent and agency. Larissa sighed and pushed open the heavy wooden door to leave.

Not knowing Larissa had been watching you, you chatted with James, the florist you had just met. While you didn’t offer the identity of the person, you let him in on your entire plan and hopes for the flowers in the scavenger hunt.

At first you thought he would be more rugged and standoffish, but his eyes lit up at the mention of using his flowers in a surprise. He promised he would have as many lilies available that I needed and that he could help arrange anything else for the reveal.

“A hopeless romantic, huh?” you gleamed at him, not knowing how to explain what his kindness and support meant to you. James blushed a bit and peered at you between strands of hair falling in his eyes. He finally confessed, “I suppose so” accompanied by a massive grin.

It felt nice to be able to plan with someone. You’ve been holding your feelings close to your chest around others; you weren’t sure if Larissa felt similarly or if she would be guarded against public acknowledgement being the head of the academy. Overwhelmed with gratitude, you risked holding out your arms for a hug while muttering a quick “thank you” that was warmly received. 

You meet Larissa in the Weathervane about 15 minutes later after getting James’s number to coordinate for later. You practically skip in and kiss her on the cheek, having been so excited to have set a plan in motion for the scavenger hunt.

“Hello!” Peck. “How was the interview?”

“Productive,” Larissa gives in a slightly standoffish tone. You wonder if she is angry you kept her waiting. She had just finished ordering when you came in from the flower shop, possibly growing frustrated of sitting around waiting.

Worry nestles in your chest when you hear her respond to the barista that her drink is to go. You and Larissa had planned to drink your beverages in a booth to chat and then stroll around town before heading over to the local book shop together. When Larissa ordered the drink to go, it felt like confirmation that you had done something to upset her.

Larissa didn’t have a lot of experience with the feeling that she could only consider jealousy. She would normally be over the moon to have been gifted a cheek kiss by you. Instead, Larissa could feel herself shifting into irritable bitch mode due to not knowing what to make of your flirting with the florist. She felt powerless to stop the mood change. A million thoughts run through Larissa’s mind, but she’s not in the mood for talking—she feels too vulnerable.

“Are you okay, Larissa?” Your voice rings out, marked with concern, when Larissa didn’t turn to you or explain more about her meeting.

“Yes, why?”

Her curt response made you feel hopeless, made you question whether or not you were being too sensitive to the difference in her demeanor. “I thought we were going to stay and drink our hot chocolates here.” You aimed for a hopeful tone, not knowing if you succeeded.

Still not meeting your gaze, Larissa answered exasperatedly, “I have too much work to do after the meeting with the mayor. I can’t waste time with you anymore. I need to get back to Nevermore; would you like a ride?”

You looked as though you were just slapped across the face. Waste time? Where was this coming from? You were a waste of time to her? Thoughts engulfed you, and you felt a knob begin to form in your throat. Has Larissa been biding the time until students return and save her from spending time with you? You couldn’t speak; you knew your voice would betray you. Your eyes were beginning to sting.

All you could muster in response to Larissa’s question was a vigorous head shake and a “mmm-mm” to signal that no ride was needed. You couldn’t sit through the ride back to Nevermore with her and be detached to your emotions bubbling up right now.

You decided to risk a glance at Larissa to study her face. Maybe you were imagining this? Her features were hardened with no legible expression as she waited to receive her hot chocolate.

The seconds that you two stood there in silence seemed to drag on. The certitude of her statement and following question made you feel like you were expected to leave her side or sit back down unaffected. You’ve had moments where you were sheepish or awkward around the woman in front of you, but none of those times could compare to the thick, uncomfortable quality that surrounded you now.

When the worker behind the counter called out that a hot chocolate was ready, Larissa surged forward to seize the drink and turn on her heels in departure. No goodbye, just the fading clicks of her shoes against the floor tiles.

You watched her go, suddenly not craving the drink you were excited to imbibe minutes before. The ease and comfort you felt and championed in her presence shrank away. Confusion and hurt took its place. You shuffle to another booth than the usual one you and Larissa sat at. It felt too fragile to slide into the familiar space, as if it would flake away and crumble the memories you had there.

Taking a few moments to process, you turned to watching people come in and out of the Weathervane. A few families, teens, surprisingly more people in business suits than you’ve ever seen before. You had hoped to feel comforted by sharing space out in the world instead of retreating, but loneliness still gnawed at you—invaded you.

After about 20 minutes of waiting for the sadness to pass, you resigned to going back to campus grounds. You made your way home from the cafe, luckily giving Larissa enough time to drive back and get settled, which ensured you wouldn’t run into her when you arrived. You didn’t know if you could handle that.

Finally shuffling into your living quarters, you collapsed on the bed, not bothering to change or remove your boots. Your hands made their way to your scrunched up, wet face but not before pulling the covers far up around your head as they could go.

—

Larissa felt regret seep up her chest immediately. Her jaw locked as she waited for her drink, sensing how absurd her behavior was. She bit down on the flesh of her cheek inside her mouth in an attempt to silence her racing thoughts. When her drink was ready, she snatched it and fled. She couldn’t bear to look into your eyes or see the hurt or confusion on your face that she knew would be there.

Once in the vehicle and driving out of the town square, she reviewed her tone, the coldness she used with you. How could she explain that it was a front—a scramble for control? How could she repair the damage without addressing why she lashed out in the first place? Did she just ruin the most consistent source of joy and support she’s ever had in her life?

The questions in her head became too much, and she had to pull off the road to steady her ragged breathing. Her grip on the steering wheel showcased the whitest knuckles she’d ever seen. She felt like she had to escape but no amount of distance was enough.

Memories of your time together over the last few weeks darted behind her eyelids. She had grown so close to you, never considering that she was falling into old patterns. Getting over Morticia almost broke her. If she came unraveled by losing a high school love, what chance did she have of making it out of whatever she had for you? Seeing how close you and the florist were evoked a reaction that she couldn’t have anticipated.

Rather, your utter endearing nature with her after witnessing you with the florist is what solidified her outburst. It felt tragic and unfair to be in such close proximity to what she desired yet completely out of reach. To make it back to Nevermore, she had to dissociate—give herself over to some sort of autopilot. Once she arrived, Larissa rushed inside the large wooden doors to her office and leaned exhaustedly against the door, finally giving herself over to her emotions now that she was in the safety and seclusion of her office.

For the first time in nights, you both occupied your respective rooms, crawling into otherwise empty beds.

—

The following morning, you feel how tight and raw your eyes are from crying through the night. Leaving the bed doesn’t seem in the cards today. Instead, you curl up trying to keep warm now that you don’t have Larissa’s body heat to wake up to.

Knowing its a bad idea, you roll over and let your mind think of yesterday. Maybe she was just using you to distract herself while she recovered. She’s not exactly spoiled for choice with everyone gone for winter break. You probably haven’t meant as much to her as she has meant to you. …Would coming clean about authoring the mix CDs be ill advised then? Or should you still put the mystery to rest, allowing closure for you both? As your mind went back and forth, you couldn’t help but consider how authentic Larissa seemed when you two spent time together. You wanted to hold onto that.

Time passed so slowly laying there. You were scared to leave your room to shower, to eat, to go to the orchestra room. Of course you didn’t want to see the object of your pain and hurt, but you also couldn’t muster up the energy to do anything—even within the confines of your living space.

Days went by until you finally had to get up to shower and do laundry. Your room was starting to stink and you didn’t want students coming back to campus to suspect anything is remiss. You gathered your things and tiptoed to the faculty showers. Thankfully it was empty for you to slip into the farthest stall away with a half crescent stained glass window.

You stand in the corner of the stall to turn on the water and wait for it to warm up. Once you deemed the water hot enough, you stepped into the stream and closed your eyes, rolling your neck in and out of the water. For a few minutes you stood still, letting the the water run down your back, scorching the skin. Steam rose to caress the stained glass above you.

Meanwhile, what you didn’t know was that Larissa treaded carefully too. She had tried not to seek you out, yet she was wary of and half expected to see you everywhere she went. She took tabs of where you might be, and you weren’t in the faculty lounge, the library, the courtyard, the entrance hall, or even the shared dorm spaces when she was there. Larissa even found herself walking past the orchestra room only to be met with silence.

—

About a week after the incident at the Weathervane and a couple days after your shower and laundry excursion, you decide to attempt to leave your room again.   With students arriving back on campus and a new semester rapidly approaching, you needed to figure out your syllabus and compositions. You slid on a blazer over a crisp white button up and slowly headed to your once familiar safe haven—the music room.

Once inside the space, you immediately feel terrible for being away from it for so long. There it was waiting patiently to comfort you and build new soundscapes with you. Your hands wander across the various instruments set out about the space. Your fingers touch piano keys, guitar strings, wooden reeds, metal valves, cherishing the notes that emitted from them as you skimmed past each collection.

You attempted to hold back your flurry of emotions and focus on various scores and arrangements for your syllabus, but each note made your heart ache for what catharsis could be spilling from you instead.

It wasn’t long until the music shifted from pointed instruction that corresponded to specific weeks within the semester to raw, unruly emotion. You began to sob while composing soft, slow tunes that built into delicate and resonant peaks. The instruments you commanded had a measured grace about them that filled the room with its rich melody.

As the music pouring from you continued, it burned slowly, not unlike a campfire that blazes one moment and crackles with reverb the next. Rhythm rang out and orchestral layers began to pile up, transporting the song to cinematic heights full of fragility and a holy, spiritual quality that you’ve never heard before from your own music.

Making her daily rounds across the academy grounds, Larissa notices the emotional tune emitting from the music room that has been vacant up until this point. Her heart catches in her throat as the music pulls indecipherable feelings from her core. A air of melancholy and longing overwhelms Larissa. She had hoped to see you, but she wasn’t expecting this. The song radiating from the room to her eardrums had stopped Larissa in her tracks. The showcase of gentle tones that blossomed into shimmering instrumental passages had brought tears to her eyes. 

Larissa had lingered here many times before, stealing away compositions from the hall outside your domain. However, this time she wanted to burst through the doors and apologize. She wanted to usher in a vibrant symphony rather than the lonesome notes currently leaking out of the room. She could overhear this change in you. It was apparent, and Larissa knew she was the cause.

—

Eventually, students began to return. You had attempted to stay a recluse in your room for as long as you could. That is, until a day swiftly came when you heard excited knocks rapt against the door to your living space.

With a knowing sigh, you heaved yourself from your desk towards the door. You knew the pink cheeks and bouncing hair that would open up before you beyond the door. Enid had come to say hello after returning from break.

“Professor!”

“Hello there, Enid.” You mustered up the sweetest smile you could for the girl, even though you still felt lackluster. “How was your break?”

“Oh, it was so good! Well, it was kind of kooky staying with Wednesday and her family. They’re so different from my family. My brothers are sure to tackle each other to the ground as soon as possible, but Wednesday and Pugsley hardly touch! You can still tell she has a soft spot for him, though. They ha-”

You let Enid ramble on about her winter break and the things she and the Addams’s got up to. To be honest, the lack of effort needed to continue the conversation was nice; you weren’t sure you had it in you for explaining elaborate stories or… any details right now.

“Um, anyway, I wanted to ask you a question, actually.” Her forthcoming demeanor slowed, and you could tell she was nervous.

“Anything for my favorite resident.” Your words were enough to melt the young werewolf’s fears. Her shoulders relax, and she happily pushes her way into your room.

Slightly taken aback at the gesture, you leave the door ajar and take a seat in one of the armchairs across from where she has elected to sit. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s kind of about Wednesday.” You stay quiet, letting Enid know she has the floor and that you won’t rush her.

“We had a really good break. I mean, we got on each others’ nerves a lot. She always scoffs like she is better off alone and is annoyed, but I could tell she liked having me there.”

You nod, willing yourself to have empathetic eyes that signal for her to continue.

She finally blurts out, “We almost kissed, and now Wednesday won’t talk to me.” Enid seems panicked and almost in tears at this revelation.

“Hey, hey.” You rise from your chair to place a comforting hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “Take some deep breaths. You’re okay, and we’re going to talk about it. It’s okay.”

Enid wipes her eyes, and you continue supportively, “I know being vulnerable is hard, especially when you can’t control how other people react or feel. Is that how you are feeling?”

“Yeah. Wednesday is so hard to read and gives me mixed signals. She goes back and forth between being standoffish and blunt but also charming and kind of open to being close. Sometimes it seems like she won’t let herself be happy,” Enid ends with a frown.

“I see how conflicted you feel, and I’m sorry you are going through this. What I will say is that you are more likely to regret not honoring your own feelings than communicating your needs. Nothing good ever happened from shrinking away from what you truly wanted.”

“Wow, that’s so deep.” Enid takes a moment. “So even if things don’t work out the way I hope, I know I did what I could to be true to myself?”

“Exactly. That’s all we can do sometimes. Yes, it could be hard to not have feelings reciprocated, but you’re not happy not knowing either.”

“Okay, I think I know what I’m gonna do. Thank you!” Enid is standing and reaching out to you in a firm embrace now. You reciprocate, hoping the best for the young girl. You knew how close she and Wednesday were, even if Wednesday puts on a front.

A few moments pass, and Enid is over by your desk now, picking up everything in sight and inspecting it. “So, what’s wrong with you and Principal Weems?” Enid’s nosy, chipper demeanor is back.

A puzzled look appears on your face. “What do you mean? Principal Weems and I haven’t seen each other?”

“You two were always together before we all left for break.” She shrugs and raises her eyes, playing with your pens before moving onto your swinging, metal pendulum.

Geez, students could not be fooled. They are far more perceptive than other faculty give them credit for. Your head swam, and you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what you could say, given that Larissa was the principal and would likely not support students gossiping about her personal life. At your long pause, Enid continued.

“Now you two both seem sad. I could tell when you opened the door since almost the whole dorm is back and hasn’t seen you. And Principal Weems is way more irritable than normal. Ajax, Yoko, and I were throwing around a ball in the courtyard and almost hit one of the gargoyles. Principal Weems confiscated the ball and gave us a lecture on the history of the gargoyles at Nevermore. Something about them being 1,300 year old hand-crafted stone?”

“Oh, Enid, I’m not sure…” It was all you could think to say to both Enid’s original and follow up question.

“Like you said, nothing good will happen from shrinking away from what you want. Your words.” Enid states this as if she is wielding a giant philosophical answer. You can’t help but feel pride in her quick use of the same line. Okay, why did you have to give such great advice?

The earnest nature of the young werewolf was admirable and made your weak heart grow. Enid begins to walk out of your room muttering a combination of “just saying” and “thanks again!”

As the door closes, you slump into your chair, deep in thought. Maybe you should put it all out there. What is the worst that could happen? It’s the least you could do for yourself. Otherwise, you’re back to where you started. Your discussion with Enid inadvertently encourages you to step up and continue the scavenger hunt.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13. Let me know if anyone else wants tagged in the future. :)

Hi, can I ask for an angst with Larissa like maybe some sort of fight that ends with some accident like idk maybe a car one or sth and reader is in bad state at the hospital and Larissa cries and begs unconscious reader to not leave her and that she is sorry etc? And maybe the doc enters and says that reader had more luck than they think and she and the baby should be fine. And Larissa cries more with mixed feelings of guilt and happiness because they tried for a kid for a long time? I leave the ending for you ;* thank you ❤️

Don’t leave me| Angst

*Authors note~ my heart I sincerely apologise for what lays ahead.*

Trigger warnings~ angst car crash mentions pregnancy loss

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

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Arguing with your lover was something you always hated, your anxiety would go sky high and your abandonment issues would flare up. But you'd had your fare share of arguments with Larissa but she'd always stayed. Never had she left during an argument, maybe another room but you always knew she would come back. And she always did until tonight.

You'd had the worst fight ever, really your missed your wife's presence but understood her job yet missing your anniversary was the last straw. You lots your cool and decided on a drive. You only wanted to clear your head but realistically getting in the car so upset wasn't the best idea. Of course rational thoughts weren't occurring for you so you indeed got in the car and drove from the shared house.

You don't remember what happened exactly but you remember the sounds of horns, and a blue car slamming into the drivers side of your car. The windows smashing around you as you lost your consciousness. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. You didn't even get a chance to talk to Larissa, to give her the surprise but now you had killed your self and your daughter.

Larissa Weems went to find her lover, after all she didn't want this to happen, she didn't mean to hurt you. Wednesday Addams was causing her no end of grief and unfortunately you suffered the consequences of this. She knew you were in the right here but as soon as she heard the door slam shut she couldn't help the guilt eating her alive. Maybe that's why when you didn't return she began to pace and attempt to control her panic until her phone rang.

"Your wife's been in a car accident, unresponsive at the scene and is currently being taken to Jericho Hospital" replayed through the blondes head as she drove to you on autopilot. The last words she said wouldn't leave her brain and that's the last thing she wanted you to hear. And what about the baby? Oh god she couldn't lose the both of you. God what had she done? The what if situations driving her insane as her heart ached in the unknown. And the disappointment in herself rising with every passing second. If she just didn't spend so much time chasing after Wednesday Addams or if she made you feel special and loved more often then this wouldn't be happening.

Larissa wasn't known for patience, her status as headmistress of Nevermore often gained her access to things she typically wouldn't have, and that her connections with the mayor made it much more easy for her to obtain. It was no surprise that when the beautiful six foot three woman came barging in the doors that she was immediately directed to the room in which you lay unconscious and pretty badly bruised but no other signs of massive damage. The monitor attached to your beautiful bump showing that your precious baby was alive for now.

"We aren't sure if she'll wake up, and if that's the case then we need to operate and save the baby" the nurse informed your wife while you lay there willing your body to work. "I'm sorry baby! I love you so much. Please don't leave me. I'm so so so sorry sweetheart, you're my world. Our little sunshine is okay, their hearts beating away. Fight angel please I can't lose you. I'm so so sorry" she sobbed clutching at your hand as if it would some how make a difference.

God knows how long she sat there like that, crying and apologising to you, but the moment your eyes fluttered open and you immediately drew your attention to her hands on yours. "Ris?" You croaked out before your eyes found the monitor. "Sweetheart! I'm sorry I'm so so sorry I didn't mean to love, I can't lose you." She rambled as she grabbed some water to hopefully soothe your throat. After a small sip you couldn't help but murmur, "is she okay?"

"She? It's a girl" Larissa whispered which had you nodding with tears in your eyes, "it's what I wanted to tell you tonight, on our anniversary, that we are having a beautiful little princess." Larissa's hand soon found its way to cradle your daughters bump, "our little Dahlia Rae? I'm so in love with you" she murmured as you nodded in response, "I'm in love with you too baby, I'm sorry for fighting and driving upset. I'm so glad we are okay, to be with my favourite human ever."

You'd spent the past few days in hospital just for precautionary measures, but Larissa never left your side for a second. You thought maybe she'd relax once you made it home, but no you and Lia were treated like queens and even the night you gave birth, Larissa vowed to never make you feel anything less. She stood cradling the beautiful newborn, looking down at her with such and adoring smile you felt like your heart grew twelve sizes. One silly argument would never defeat the love you shared.

Word count~ 984

Tag list ~ @enchantressb @fortheloveofaproditesblessings @medeaswifey @scream-queenlover @larrisalessopet @briennethebeautysstuff @xx-state-of-mind-xx @i-write-sometimes-maybe @farahtissaiamyloves @just-your-casual-nerd

In The Dark

Synopsis: During reach out day, Tyler Galpin's old friends decide to take advantage of you and Eugene, a frail witch and the bee club president, while your boyfriend Wednesday is stationed in the chocolate shop of pilgrim world; only when everything goes dark in your eyes does Wednesday feel that something has gone wrong.

Themes: Male Wednesday Addams, Protective boyfriend, bullying, witch's, vampires, romance, caring boyfriend.

Warnings: Physical assault, verbal assault, bullying, general violence, profanity, name-calling.

Note: This does not follow the out reach day episode this is just a made up scene of my own imagination that is based off outreach day, I did, however, have to re-watch that episode to get the bullies right.

Wordcount: 880

Reaching Jericho, you are immediately ripped from your boyfriend as you head towards Pilgrim World with Eugene; it wasn't long before you reunited with each other; you lean over and whisper, genuinely curious about where his previous assignment went. "I suppose you finally convinced Enid to switch assignments with you; how on earth did you do that, if I might ask?" Wednesday Glanced at you while walking with you and the group. "I told her she would have the opportunity to partner with Ajax, and she took it." You nod in understanding and continue with the group as you get closer to the assigned job.

You soon reached your destination as Wednesday made his way to the front, you couldn't quite catch what he was saying to the group leader, but you could hear the group leader loud and clear. You all would be working in the chocolate factor; you despised milk chocolate, the scent, the texture, the taste. It could never compare to dark chocolate. Soon after being requested to change into the clothes once worn by the people who massacred and slaughtered your people, you sat with Eugene as he ate an entire tray of the chocolate handouts. "Eat too quickly, and you'll vomit, Eugene." the boy didn't listen.

As Eugene gives up on eating the last two pieces of fudge and goes to put his retainer in, one of the three boys that had approached you two from behind rips him up from under the armpits, and another grabs your arms from behind, holding you back. They forcefully carry him over to the pillory as you try to squirm and wiggle free "Eugene!" you call out, but he can't hear you anymore; you are disgusted when the boy next to walker starts talking. "Look at this greedy little freak." The more you struggle, the stronger the boy's grip; you then stop and burst out laughing when Eugene regurgitates the fudge he just ate onto the boys, but you would soon regret laughing.

"What are you laughing at, freak?" the boy holding you grabs your throat tightly, shutting you up and constricting you of air as you pull at his hands, gasping for air. "let go… of… me," you inhale with each word before the boy standing next to mayor walkers son slaps you so hard that your vision starts to blur, you struggle to pull his hands away from your throat, soon losing consciousness from the lack of oxygen. The last thing you remember is seeing and hearing Eugene calling out your name in concern, albeit unbeknownst to you, catching the attention of a particular goth boy.

When you awake, you cough and rub your throat before noticing you are in Nevermore's infirmary, your boyfriend reading a book beside you. Although Wednesday doesn't show any physical concern, his actions speak louder than any facial expression he'll make and much louder than the blunt riddles that leave his mouth. You figured he was the one to bring you here. Still, no doubt after causing chaos in the town square, catching the faint smell of burning metal, a broken down building, and bow rosin. "ah, your awake, good; I was wondering how long it would take for you to retake consciousness after being tortured by amateurs." you laugh dryly, your voice not entirely back from how roughly the boys from pilgrim world grabbed you.

Wednesday closes his book and places it in his bag before putting the back of his hand against your forehead, then pushing you back down into a lying position. "you have a fever; I suggest you continue to lay there, although you might not listen to me. If you would like, I can carry you back to the dorm, cara mia." your face heats up from his words, and you nod gently before croaking out a few profanities of protest to the unexpected and atypical behavior from your boyfriend. "holy shit why are you being so fucking strange today." Even though he could hear you perfectly fine, he pretended not to listen to a single word and proceeded to lift you from the infirmary bed.

When he lifted you, your head started spinning, and you hid your face in his chest, the black of his uniform shading your eyes from the light. When you opened your eyes, you seemed to have been fine, waking from the darkness of unconsciousness. Still, as you lifted higher into the light, you realized that your nervous system and eyes had not yet adjusted from being in the dark for so long, causing a slight sensitivity to the surrounding light sources. "Wednesday, cover my eyes, please. The lights are bothering me."

The boy understood, knowing that lights can be a bother no matter what you wake up from, whether from passing out or a decent night's sleep. "Just say when you are no longer in the dark, y/n." Wednesday made sure you knew that he would take the black cloth off your face when you were ready, carrying you back to your dorm only to discover that you had fallen asleep along the way, comforted by his cold embrace. The boy watched over you for the rest of the evening, knowing now that you would always sleep in the dark.

End.