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herlondonboy · 1 year

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Hyde Your Kids

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

Summary: idk how to summarise this to be honest

Warnings: blood, slight gore, manipulation, grooming, Thornhill, rushed ending, unnecessary Xavier slander (sorry), my shitty writing.

Word Count: 1.4k

As a Hummer, you went by a code: all Hummers stick together. And we did for the most part. Although it was an unlikely crowd, me, Wednesday Addams and Eugene Otinger, we got along great. Honestly, we didn’t have anything in common other than our love for the winged insects (and maybe our distaste towards Xavier Thorpe), so the last thing I expected to see was Wednesday Addams at my dorm, asking for me help stopping a murderous monster.

“Hummers stick together.” Was all Wednesday said when I tried to decline her offer. “Eugene agreed, why won’t you?” She asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. She was annoyed, not many people would be able to tell, but a few muscles in her face contracted just as they did before she told Enid off for giggling too loud.

“Eugene is an eleven year old kid with a crush on your best friend. He’d do anything for you if it means he’ll get on Enid’s radar.” I said truthfully. Was I wrong? No one in their right mind would risk their life to catch a monster they know nothing about. Apart from Wednesday, death feared her. Not the other way round. A fact.

Wednesday thought for a second, carefully calculating her next words. “Someone‘e got to protect Eugene out there, right?” She said. Like she was trying to guilt trip me. I thought she was smarter than that.

“Good thing you’ll be there then.” I gave her a sarcastic smile before shutting the door. Wednesday stood, looking at the door in minor shock. The last person to disobey her wishes ended up passing out in a cramped coffin next to her dead grandfather (Pugsley). Her eye twitched slightly before she turned on her heels and walked away.

She tried again the next day, bringing Eugene to guilt trip me again, but I still didn’t budge. And on the third try, she finally gave up. “I don’t understand.” She admitted. “You say that Hummers stick together, but when I ask something of you, you get all defensive and shake me off straight away.” She glowered.

“Have you maybe considered that I don’t want to die?” I snarked at her, tilting my head mockingly. Normally if someone did that to her, they’d lose their head, but she just barely frowned at me. “If being a Hummer means I’m going to lose my life then count me out.” Being a Hummer was fun when I only had to watch after the bees.

Wednesday took a deep breath. This isn’t what she wanted. Her eyes widened slightly in distress. “No.” She said and I rose my eyebrows. “Fine, don’t come, but do not leave the Hummers. Eugene will be torn.”

“Since when did you care about anyone?”

“I care about you and Eugene because you’re my… friends.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth and I chuckled slightly. “What’s so funny?” She asked in offence as we walked to my dorm.

“Wednesday Addams cares about me?” I asked. “Am I gonna get a hand on my pillow as an offering?” I joked and opened my door, jumping out of my skin at the hand on my pillow. “What the fuck?” I exclaimed, heart beating rapidly out of my chest.

“That’s Thing.” Wednesday introduced, a small smile on her lips. “I asked him to find out why you won’t go with us.” She then admitted.

“You’ve been stalking me?” I asked in a humourless tone. What did they know?

“In a sense.” Wednesday nodded. “You have a secret and I’m going to figure it out, y/n.” She said before walking away, Thing following in tow.

Shivering, I walked around the forest. Why was I here? How did I get here? So many questions rang through my mind. The blood. There was so. much. blood. It covered my entire body. Chunks of flesh that I tried to ignore, but once it passed my mind I doubled over and gagged. At least it wasn’t my blood, I tried to be optimistic.

“Wednesday!” I heard Eugene yell out from behind me and I spun around, but there was no one there. The sound of leaves crunching made me flinch and spin around in all directions. Who was doing this to me? Why? Why? Why? I wanted to know. I want to be free.

“There you are.” Thornhill smiled, hugging me. I sobbed into her chest. Why won’t she let me be? “Shh. It’s okay.” She cooed, ignoring the blood that smeared on her clothes. “Calm down, y/n.”

My sobbing seized, but I didn’t stop crying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I repeated like a mantra to her as she held me at arm’s length. Her smile was unsettling and she said nothing before wiping the blood and tears from my eyes. She took my arm and pulled me to the cave. “No, no, no. I don’t want to.” I tried begging, though it never got me anywhere.

Miss Thornhill shook her head in amusement, chaining my hands to the wall. “Can’t have you running away from me, can I?” She smirked. “Now, drink.” She held a bottle with a blue liquid in it. A crushed flower of some sort, probably. It made my insides burn. Bones broke and bent into shapes that no human body should be able to bend into. My screams of agony bounced off the wall as Thornhill just smiled at me. Stop smiling, I wanted to say, stop acting like this is fun. Skin turned into fur. Thoughts turned into blind rage and I can’t remember anything after that.

I stayed curled up in my room for the next week after that. Fearing to go outside or let the thoughts win. Wednesday barged in and froze when she saw me shaking underneath my duvet.

“y/n?” She asked.

I shook my head rapidly, murmuring small “no’s.” Under my breath. Wednesday barely had time to react when I grew three times in size, my body becoming loosely covered in fur. She stumbled back, collapsed onto the floor in what one could only describe as fear. Thing worked hard to unlock and open the door that had seemingly locked from the outside. But it was no use.

Wednesday pushed herself into the wall, making herself as small as possible. Thing took a dagger out of her bag and handed it to her Wednesday stood to her feet once more, pointing the tip at me as I snarled at her. As she stabbed me where my heart should be, I picked her up by her neck and cut off her air supply.

She kicked me and screamed with what little breath she had left to alert someone and seconds later, the window shattered and I was stabbed with a powerful tranquilliser. Wednesday dropped to the ground, gasping for breath and Thing went to look out the window, but there was no one there.

I woke up in the med-bay hours later, surrounded by Eugene, Wednesday and my parents. And worst of all, Thornhill. I looked down, playing with my hands. “I’m guessing you’re not all here because I got in a freak accident and was the victim?” I murmured.

“You’re a Hyde.” Wednesday said in a monotone voice and my parents turned to her quickly. She dismissed their stares and continued. “You tried to kill me.”

“I thought you said we’d ease them into the news.” My dad said with an uneasy smile, looking to Miss Thornhill.

The red head took a step forward with a soft smile. “Sorry, our students are sometimes so eager.” She said. “Wednesday, Eugene, if you could please…” She motioned towards the door.

Wednesday took one more look at me before leaving with Eugene. I sighed and looked at my parents. “Did I really hurt her, dad?” I frowned.

“You didn’t mean to, sweets.” My dad said, crouching down next to me. I looked over his shoulder at Thornhill, who was looking at me, watching my every move.

It started off small, a jump, then I couldn’t stop jumping. Seizing in my father’s’ arms. They called for me, but their voices were like static electricity in my mind, causing my ears to bleed. What Wednesday failed to mention was that for a Hyde to be released, it needs a master and she wasn’t sure who it was yet, so she allowed you to rot away in your guilt.

But she sure as hell was going to find out.

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s1nful-sa1nt · 6 months

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have a Marilyn Thornhill meme dump courtesy of @cherryxsapphic and I's late night conversations

#these are so fucking funny to me #i am so feral about marilyn thornhill its ridiculous #this woman could do unholy things to me #anyway #gwendoline christie #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #wednsday addams #larissa weems #marilyn thornhill x reader #larissa weems x reader #laurel gates x reader

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willisnotmental · 2 months

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i’m starting to see a pattern in some of the woman i’m attracted to and i don’t think it’s a good thing

#emphasis on some #these are just the teachers/headmistresses #though all my other fictional crushes have a lot of authority #guys i have mommy issues #alma lefay peregrine #alma peregrine #larissa weems wednesday #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems #farah dowling #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso #melissa schemmenti #i think i have problems

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iamfandomcrazy · 3 months

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Laurel: Did you take out Wednesday Addams like I told you to? Tyler: Wednesday has been taken out, yes Laurel: Excellent. You have my grat- Tyler: It was a great restaurant Tyler: We had a romantic candlelit dinner Tyler: I proposed afterwards- we're filing the wedding papers

#wednesday addams #tyler galpin #laurel gates #marilyn thornhill #wyler #weyler #wednesday netflix #wednesday and tyler #incorrect quotes #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes

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d4rkhold · 10 months

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blood set ablaze

Marilyn Thornhill x Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW: After studying late into the night at the library and completely losing track of time, you realise you might have to wait a very long time to catch a train ride home. Luckily, your botanical professor, Marilyn Thornhill, also appears to still be on campus and offers you a ride home. Her act of kindness poses a question to you: what could you ever do to thank her?

WORD COUNT: 6.5k

WARNINGS: (18+ NSFW) heavy smut, praise kink, sub!reader, dom!marilyn, legal age gap, alternate universe - college/university, oral sex, fingering, orgasm denial, blood

A/N: After many, many months - I am finally back (with a very nasty fic)! I apologise for the long period of radio silence; life was quite busy these past few months and I completely forgot I had this piece in the drafts. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

— — —

People say they like winter, but when it rolls around to the season of frost coating the tips of grass and shorter days of sunlight, they suddenly wish it was summer – or, more precisely, that they didn’t have to trudge through the freezing rain at night.

As you walk through campus, your hands are shoved in your coat pockets, clutching tightly at the inner fabric to stay warm. You were so caught up with your studies in the library that you didn’t realise how late it had become and how the stars had replaced the setting sun so quickly.

The rain isn’t too heavy, but the air is a bit too cold for your liking. You had also forgotten to bring an umbrella and a warmer coat when you left your place, putting all your trust into the weather app on your phone – which had stated there would only be light rain in the afternoon and clear skies afterwards. Apparently, the weather decided to change its mind.

On another note, it’s also the beginning of finals season, and you’ve been absolutely stressed from head to toe, leading to your nose being stuck in various textbooks during most of the day, every day. While your friends keep up with a balanced life, seamlessly juggling their social lives and academia, you find yourself wholly fixated on your studies, determined that you’ll be able to perform at your very best when you have to sit your exams.

You stop for a second to pull out your phone. The trains from Jericho frequently run during peak hours, such as, in the afternoon and in the evening when people finish work. But right now, it’s late at night, and you’re almost sure you’ll have to wait at least forty-five minutes for a ride home.

Now it’s suddenly hitting you, that regret of deciding to stay so long in the library to study when you could've done all your work at home. The dampness of your hair, the shivering of your body, and the formidable darkness of the night sky fuel the feeling of regret so horribly well that it makes you mutter out an annoyed ‘fuck’ from your lips.

It doesn’t help that most of the trees on campus are terribly monstrous and old, having existed here way before the academy was even built. They crane over both sides of the large and endless cobble footpath, creating a scene that looks like something straight out of a gothic horror movie.

The trees sway with the gentle wind and rain, causing branches to prod and clip at adjacent ones. You stand on the path under a leafless tree with your left hand shielding your phone from the rain, checking for the train timetable.

You’re too busy scrolling on your phone and lost in thought to hear the sound of clicking footsteps in the rain approaching you from behind. It’s not until you stop feeling the droplets of rain hit your face, and a strange earthy saccharine scent fills your senses that you look up from your phone.

“Behind you,” a cheery voice muses out through the rain pattering on cobblestones. The tone of voice is a little ironic, considering how unsavoury the current weather is.

You turn around on the balls of your feet to meet a familiar face – perhaps a little too familiar – for you have tried to memorise the details of her face during lectures and put in extra hours of study to ensure you were always on top of things for that paper. Sometimes, you would sit at your desk in the middle of a study session at home and think of her and nothing else; thoughts of plant anatomy would digress into ones filled with an auburn-haired woman in denim overalls and hazel eyes that glowed behind wide-rimmed glasses.

Marilyn Thornhill is your botany professor, and somehow she’s standing here with you in the dark, umbrella in one hand, shielding you both from the rain with an alluring smile on her lips.

She’s always cheerful and passionate about everything. You can’t help but feel like a moth to a flame when she’s around; your eyes relentlessly follow her hand gestures while she speaks, drawn to her persistent positivity that you wished you had on your bad days.

“Professor Thornhill! Oh- hi!” Your fingers absentmindedly turn off your phone in a moment of surprise. “What are you still doing here?”

Marilyn smiles warmly, despite the chilly air causing ears and fingertips to go cold. “I was going to ask you the same question, sweetheart.” She pushes up the glasses sitting on her nose bridge. “I was just marking papers in my office and running errands for Headmaster Weems.”

The pet name sends a slight wave of heat across your collarbones, but you convince yourself it’s just your body’s physiological response to the cold. “Oh, cool,” you simply reply, afraid something stupid will slip from your lips.

“And how about you, Y/N?” She steps a little closer towards you to ensure her umbrella is keeping you dry. “I don’t know of any extracurriculars today that run until late,” she says lightly with a questionable look in her gaze.

“Oh, I was just studying in the library, and I kind of lost track of time,” you sheepishly smile and turn on your phone to check the time before turning it off again.

She starts to snake an arm around the small of your back, and you suddenly find yourself walking with her in the rain. Your feet seem to be on autopilot as they walk in sync with her, the sound of two pairs of shoes clicking against the wet pavement, echoing off into the distance.

Your body is starting to register the realness of her touch as the heart in your chest races slightly faster than usual. You don’t know exactly where the two of you are going, but you know you’re content with being in the older woman's presence.

It makes you wonder: when did you start crushing on the older woman? Was it when you first laid eyes on her during your first botany lecture? Was it during your laboratory sessions in the greenhouse where she’d squeeze your shoulder in encouragement when you were stuck with an experiment? Or was it, perhaps, when you would ask her questions after lectures, and she would look at you with a twinkle in her eyes, pleased that you were so invested in botany?

Marilyn gently retracts her arm from your shoulder and breaks the silence. “Do you have a ride home? It’s terribly late, and I wouldn’t want you going home all by yourself.”

Your heart is about to jump out of your chest at her considerate words. “Oh, I’ll be okay; I’ve got a train to catch at the station that’s scheduled to depart soon.” you smile meekly at her, uncertain about the truth of your own words.

She frowns at you, clearly unamused. “I don’t know how I feel about you walking alone to the station at night and in the pouring rain.” She stops walking and puts a hand on her hips. “Why don’t you let me drive you home?”

You laugh nervously. “Professor Thornhill, I don’t want to be a hassle for you,” you momentarily look down at your shoes and back up at her. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken the train home many times at night before.”

The woman before you tilts her head disapprovingly, clearly not having any of it. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s no hassle at all. It’s important that my students get home safely,” she says with a hint of firmness in her tone.

You contemplate her words for a moment. “Okay, if you say so.” You give her an appreciative smile, and she gives one back and nods in acknowledgement.

You follow her to the staff car park, occasionally making small talk with the older woman about the weather, how lectures were today, and plans for the weekend. It’s no surprise when you find out that she’s planning to renovate her garden and read a biography about a famous horticulturist. You imagine her garden to be filled with life: exotic winter flowers and plants covering the place, a variety of colours spilling everywhere.

The two of you arrive at her car – a purple Volkswagen Beetle. She unlocks it, allowing you to get inside and sit yourself down.

You fiddle with your fingers in the passenger seat of her car while your botany professor checks her mirrors. She notices your movements in her peripheral vision and asks what’s the matter.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you find yourself immediately ceasing your movements. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first.

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “My hands are just a little bit numb from the cold, that’s all,” you lie.

Truthfully, you’re nervous about being alone and in such close proximity with the auburn-haired woman. You’ve always admired her from afar, yet here you are now, just an arm's length away from her, sitting in her car.

Marilyn turns and unexpectedly goes to clasp her hands around your own hands. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her soft, warm fingers wrap around yours, gently caressing your knuckles. Your mind is quick and cruel, conjuring an image of her hands situated around something else…

… The base of your neck, cradling it gently. Her fingers move to trace invisible lines from your jawline to your throat. Without wasting any time, her free hand begins to squeeze at your trachea gently, and you feel your airways constrict slightly. With wide eyes, you watch as she surges forward, about to replenish your oxygen with a kiss-

Your humiliating imagination doesn’t last long as you’re jerked back into reality by her voice.

“Oh dear,” she pouts sympathetically. “You’re like ice! Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in no time so you can get all warmed up.”

And it’s over, just like that. She retracts her hands from yours and starts the ignition of her car. You find yourself missing her touch, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to ignore a peculiar feeling beginning to brew within your chest.

You give her directions to your place as she drives through the gates of the academy. Your elbow rests on the car door, supporting your chin as you stare out the window, watching the beads of rain run down the surface. Professor Thornhill has the radio playing at a low volume, where you can make out the sound of a violin and a piano chiming in a gentle rhythm – a classical piece you’ve never heard of before.

“I never thought you’d be the type to listen to the orchestra,” you say with a hint of curiosity, eyes still following the droplets of rain.

You’re too busy looking out the window to see the smirk that’s made its way onto the auburn-haired woman’s mouth.

“I enjoy listening to a lot of things,” she hums.

— — —

“Well,” she says. You turn to look at the woman in the driver’s seat as she announces, “We’re finally here.”

You resist the urge to tuck a stray piece of hair dangling near your eyes behind your ear. For a moment, the low sound of the car engine humming away is the only noise that fills the silence as the two of you sit, gazing off into the distance of the dimly lit street.

“Thank you so much for driving me home. I really appreciate it, Professor Thornhill,” you say, turning your head to offer her a grateful smile.

She gazes back at you through her glasses, almost as if she’s trying to study you. Her eyes roam – and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s doing it. When her eyes drop to your lips for a split second, your brain doesn’t know if it’s your imagination or not.

She’s pushing her glasses up and looking right at you again, but this time with an indecipherable look.

“It was no problem, sweetheart,” she says in a low gentle voice. “I’m satisfied that I definitely know you’re home safely and in one piece.”

Your heart warms – truly grateful that she took the time and consideration to take you home. You’re so grateful that you don’t realise you’re suddenly spilling offers from your lips.

“Do– do you maybe want to just come inside for a glass of water or use the bathroom before you drive back to your place?” Your heart hammers against your rib cage after the words leave your lips.

She lets out a light, appreciative laugh. “Oh, Y/N… How kind of you, but it’s quite late, and I don’t want to disrupt you from getting a good night’s rest.”

You finally tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you wouldn’t be interfering with anything, and honestly, it’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me home.”

Marilyn’s fingers find her keys in the ignition, and in one movement, the car’s engine stops. “You are sweet,” she pauses. “I won’t stay for long then.”

The two of you climb out of her car, and you wait as she locks it. You begin to lead the way to the entrance of your place, hearing the sound of her footsteps following closely from behind.

For some reason, there's a feeling in your gut that her eyes are burning into your back as you start to unlock your front door, yet you don’t know for sure.

You don’t even know what you’re trying to achieve right now, inviting the professor you have a crush on into your place.

When you step inside and hold the door open for her, it earns you a smile that almost seems like a smirk, causing you to blush briefly.

Her eyes roam the interior of your place, admiring how cosy it looks. “What a lovely place you have, Y/N. Do you live by yourself?”

You smile nervously. “Thanks, it was a team effort,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “I’m currently living with two other people. I think they’re at a party right now or something.”

She hums in response, and you watch as she goes to adjust her glasses. “That’s lovely. Why aren’t you at the party with them?”

“I thought I would leave partying until after exams are over and focus on studying.”

“Good girl.”

Your throat almost instantaneously goes dry at the praise. God. Nobody will ever understand the effect this woman has on you. How simple words that leave her lips can cause your heart to quicken; how she makes you feel like melting into a puddle with the quirk of a lip. Not even you will ever understand how she makes you feel this way.

Not wanting the older woman to notice the state you’ve fallen into, you suddenly mention, “Oh, the bathroom is just down the hall and to the left if you need it.”

She squeezes your bicep as a “thanks” before leaving you alone. You let out a breath – almost like a sigh – as the ghost of her touch lingers on your arm, and her sultry voice echoes in the forefront of your mind.

You go to grab two glasses, fill them up with water and settle them down on the kitchen bench as you await for her to return.

Hmm, you mumble to yourself. Your eyes dart to the couch and the coffee table across the room. You think it might be more comfortable for the two of you to sit there instead of standing at the kitchen island. It wouldn’t be very nice for your guest to remain on her feet, considering she must be tired from standing and pacing back and forth during her lectures today.

As you pick up the glasses and begin to walk over to the couch, you suddenly crash into something, causing you to drop one of the glasses onto the floor. Countless shards of glass scatter on impact, water droplets splash up onto your pants and pool onto the floor.

Your eyes widen in shock when you realise you’ve just crashed into Marilyn as she was returning from the bathroom.

“Professor Thornhill– oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!”

You internally curse yourself at your clumsiness. It makes you want to dig your own grave right there on your kitchen floor.

The older woman, though slightly taken aback by the sudden collision, remains calm, her face softening at the look of concern on your face.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m perfectly fine,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Are you okay?”

You look up at her and lock eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She doesn’t show any visible irritation – or anything of the sort – but your concern for the woman persists, guilt simmering in your throat at your own idiocy.

Marilyn notices your worry and goes to reach out a comforting hand, squeezing your arm. “Truly, I’m alright. I’m unharmed; please don’t worry.”

You finally release a breath of slight relief, convinced that’s alright. “Okay,” you say gently.

The floor is a mess: bits of broken glass and a pool of water where the two of you stand. Luckily, your clothes or hers aren’t too wet, just some splotches of water here and there. You decide to offer her if she wants a towel anyway.

“Do you want a towel? I don’t want you to feel cold or anything.”

“I’m not too wet; it’s alright.” Your stomach shifts at her words as you think about something else entirely. “Thank you, though.”

The other glass is in your hands, still intact from the accident but is now almost empty. You bend down and place it on the floor and begin to pick up the large pieces of broken glass, not wanting to cause any more accidents.

“You can sit down if you like, and I’ll get you another glass of water,” you say from the floor as you collect the shards. “I’m just going to clean this up quickly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she lightly laughs and looks down at you. “I won’t let you clean this up by yourself.”

“Please, don’t worry! It’s absolutely fine- shit!” You let go of a piece of glass you had just picked up, blood suddenly oozing from a newly-formed cut on your fingers.

A look of worry is all over the older woman’s face, and she immediately bends down to your level on the floor. “Oh dear, are you alright?”

You hold out your bloodied hand before you and watch as she peers at your injury through her glasses before taking your hand into her own. She delicately turns your hand around to examine the severity of your injury.

“It just stings a little… I’ll be alright; I have bandages and antiseptic somewhere in the cupboard,” you nervously chuckle as you notice that she’s still holding onto your hand.

For some reason, you look at her eyes and see they’re dilating. Both of you are on the floor with hardly any distance between the two of you, with her holding your bleeding hand and you on your knees. Most people would not think twice about a situation like this, but for you, it sends your heart marching, becoming progressively quicker.

She flicks her gaze up at you. The abruptness of the action makes you freeze like a deer in headlights, feeling like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong.

You suddenly realise what she begins to do, and it threatens to spin your head completely off your shoulders, like a screw coming off a hinge.

She has the palm of your hand flat and open and goes to dip her head while you watch in shock as she begins to lick a stripe of blood from your fingers. You sit and stare as your chest rises and falls, feeling dizzy from the sight before you.

She looks at you as she does it. Not for a single second does she look away, causing you to feel paralysed in place. You swear that you’re dreaming because this can’t be real.

Unexpectedly, you feel a rush of heat sink to the bottom of your stomach, and you swallow thickly – a revelation of your own self-semblance slipping through your fingertips second by second. Her gesture feels like the strike of a match against the box. It’s bold. It’s so riveting. You don’t know what’s happening to you. You don’t know what she’s doing to you.

This has to be some sort of ridiculous dream you’re having right now.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but mutter out loud. She hums when she hears the profanity escape from your lips, encouraging her even more because now she’s taking your forefinger and middle finger into her mouth, right up to your knuckles.

You feel her tongue swirl around your digits and over the cut caused by the broken glass. A wave of arousal washes over you, making you close your eyes and breathe deeply. You don’t say a single word – you’re too lost for words. Even if you tried saying something, it’d probably come out incoherent.

Without warning, you feel her mouth retract from your fingers, prompting you to open your eyes. She leans forward, slowly licking her lips and chuckling at the wide-eyed expression on your face.

“Why don’t we continue this somewhere else, sweetheart?” Her voice husks in the small space between the two of you. “We can deal with the mess later. It won’t be going anywhere.”

She stands up and holds out a hand to you. You take it, and she pulls you up from the ground. Your feet begin scrambling backwards to the couch, and she follows you at a close distance, almost like a fox backing her prey into a corner with nowhere to run to.

You let her push you down, relishing in the way your back hits the soft material of the couch. She doesn’t waste any time and immediately straddles your hips with a smirk forming on her lips.

Your fingers don’t seem to throb from the cut anymore, but now something else seems to be.

Marilyn hasn’t kissed you yet, but the neediness within you is almost reaching its threshold. A whine leaves your lips as she brings a hand to hold your jaw firmly.

“Please,” you breathlessly say, desperate for her to touch you – to do anything to you.

She just chuckles and goes to take her glasses off. “Patience, Y/N.”

You can’t help but sigh at the sight of her without her glasses. You’ve always seen her wearing them in lectures, and you have never seen her without them on.

“God…” You breathe out in awe.

She quickly transfers her weight and leans away to place her glasses on the coffee table. When she returns to you, she bites her lip at the look of desperation on your face. She runs a thumb over your cheek before lowering her face close to yours.

And she surges in for the kill.

You think about everything and nothing all at once. It makes you wonder how you’ve been able to live this long without experiencing the pure feeling of Marilyn’s lips on yours and how her hot, wet tongue prods against your lips. You immediately grant her access as impatience and desire start to flow through your veins, spurring you on.

The feeling of her tongue in your mouth draws a groan from somewhere deep within your chest, and you feel absolutely wild.

She kisses you like you’re something sweet. You can feel your tongue against hers, wet and hungry, kissing you messily without relenting.

Your hands wander to the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. The cut on your hand is long forgotten, now threading through auburn locks of hair.

Marilyn pulls away from your mouth and snakes around to your ear, where you can feel the soft skin of her cheek against yours. Her hand finds the collar of your shirt and tugs at it.

“I want you to take everything off, darling,” she husks into your ear before pulling away and getting off of you so you can comply.

You feel yourself grow wet at her words, heart beating so ferociously that you swear Marilyn can hear the pounding drums in your chest.

The woman in the question gazes down at you, pupils dilating and dark as she watches your hands fumble for the hem of your shirt. You partially sit up, pulling the material over your head and dropping it carelessly on the floor somewhere.

You’re left topless in a simple black lace bra. Goosebumps begin to form on your skin, and you’re unsure if it’s because of the cold or how you see Marilyn subtly bite her bottom lip at the sight of you.

You let her eyes linger on your form for a moment before your hands glide down the plane of your stomach to the top of the waistband of your jeans.

Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, waiting in anticipation for you to make the next move. However, something devious racks your mind, urging you to test the waters.

You wonder what she would do if you, perhaps, mess around a little bit.

Your fingers find the button of your jeans, toying with them slightly before popping them open. Immediately, you look at Marilyn to see her fiery gaze burning into you, waiting for you to continue. It sends a shiver down your spine. It feels thrilling to be seen like this. By her. By the woman that is Marilyn Thornhill.

Your fingers rest on the zipper, unmoving as you await a reaction from the other woman.

“Oh, sweet girl, do you really think that is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” You pretend to be confused by her words, fingers gently fiddling with the zipper.

“Sweetheart.”

Oh, god. The sternness in her voice makes you feel more aroused, and you blink several times to maintain your composure. You remain unmoving but flash her another look of faux naivety. It appears that she has a short fuse.

“You’ll regret this later on. I’m going to make sure of it.”

You don’t have time to say something witty back to her because she’s surging forward and clambering on top of you again, her mouth attacking the skin under your jaw.

She sucks and nips gently, making you let out little gasps. It’s certain that she’s going to leave a mark on your skin; the mere thought of her doing such a thing causes you to groan.

Marilyn smirks against your neck, proud of herself, knowing she’s making you feel this way. She kisses a wet trail from your neck to your throat and ends up in the valley between your breasts.

Desperation causes you to slip a hand underneath your back to unclasp your bra. The other woman helps you take it off and tosses it somewhere behind her.

She rests on your lower stomach, leering at your exposed chest from above.

You feel yourself grow embarrassed, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides, wanting to cover yourself up. Marilyn must notice this because she brings a thumb to your lower lip and strokes it gently to soothe you.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

You blush and grow hot at her words, low and almost raspy, dripping from her lips like honey you could drink endlessly.

“I’m going to take care of you,” she assures you. “I’m going to fuck you like crazy.”

You gasp as her hand goes to your left breast, fingers running over a nipple, causing you to flutter your eyelids at the feeling. She leans down and kisses you while she kneads your breast, her movements growing rougher with each second that passes by.

Marilyn leaves your lips, causing you to whine in frustration. Her mouth then latches onto your breast, gently biting and sucking your soft skin. She repeats this with your other breast, causing you to release a breathy sigh, the sensation of her swirling tongue on your nipple becoming absolutely electrifying.

The throbbing between your thighs grows, becoming almost unbearable. You’re a terribly impatient person; you won’t deny it. Unashamedly, you grab her free hand and trail it with yours down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, a few of her fingers tucking slightly underneath the elastic.

You give in, begging her to touch you as impatience sears through your body. “I can’t take it anymore. Please, Marilyn.”

She raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a breathy laugh, amused. Her warm, lithe fingers remain unmoving at your waistband for a moment before she slips her hand out of your grasp to pull down your zipper so her hand can move more freely.

The older woman pulls out your own hand from your pants and replaces it with her own. Marilyn traces a finger over your clothed cunt, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“You’re already soaked…” She murmurs, eyes flashing with amusement.

You swallow thickly. The sensation of her touch has every inch of your skin on fire, your blood set ablaze.

But it’s not enough.

You need more.

You try to wriggle out of your jeans. Marilyn notices this and helps you, tugging them off roughly, along with your underwear.

The coolness of the air hits your sex, sending electricity through your spine. You're suddenly hyperaware that you’re lying naked underneath your botany professor, about to be fucked by her.

She runs her fingers through your arousal, spreading it around your entrance gently. Without warning, she slips two fingers inside you, and you think: this is it; I’m going to die tonight.

But for some reason, you’re certainly convinced that you’re more than willing to die at the hands of your botany professor; her hands that feed the Venus flytraps in the greenhouse; her hands that grip a textbook while she’s lecturing. You’re willing to lose every bit of yourself to her entirely.

“Fuck,” is the only thing you manage to breathe out, spreading your legs wider for her.

“Oh, just you wait, sweet girl.” She’s starting to increase her pace, and you gasp loudly as she curls her fingers perfectly, in and out of you continuously. “I’m barely even started with you.”

She picks up a brutal pace, coaxing soft moans from you with each thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach tighten, prompting your heart to race even faster.

“More, please- I think I’m going to-“

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says cruelly, pulling her fingers out of you, causing you to cry out. She stands up and begins tearing off her clothing; your mind is trying to process what she’s just done.

“You think you could tease me like you did before and get away with it?” She unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “I don’t think so.”

You simply watch silently as she undresses, dragging her underwear down her legs. She does it slowly and delicately, eyes fixed on you. Your eyes have a mind of their own, scanning her from top to bottom, slowly. Embarrassingly, more wetness leaks from your cunt, drooling down your thighs.

When she’s finished, she presses her exposed front to your own, lying on top of you as she begins to kiss you again. She kisses you sensually, tongue prodding the inside of your mouth. You moan into her mouth at the feeling – at the feeling of her mouth and her naked body on yours, warm skin against yours.

Your arms encompass her body, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You absentmindedly dig your nails into the soft skin of her back, causing her to groan against your mouth.

“Profess– Marilyn…” You whimper in between kisses before she suddenly stops. “Please, I’m sorry for teasing you before. I’ll- I’ll be good this time.”

She leaves an inch of distance between your lips and hers for a split second, contemplating your words. Without warning, she goes to kiss you again.

This time it’s different; you feel like you’re being devoured by her. The thought causes you to groan into her mouth. She retaliates by biting your bottom lip – hard.

You feel the skin split open and start to taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. When she moans, you know she’s finally got a taste of it too. The kisses become sloppy, and you feel more wetness pool between your thighs as the two of you relish in the taste of blood and the heat of wet tongues colliding against each other like waves against the rocky shore.

Marilyn goes to nip at the same area on your bottom lip again, certain for more blood to spill from the wound. You almost yelp out in pain and surprise; it never occurred to you that there lies a much darker side to her under all her cheery smiles and dignified praise in the classroom.

She pulls away from you, leaving your chest heaving and your heart pounding at your ribcage. You feel how your bottom lip throbs from how hard she bit you. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you looked into a mirror and saw your lips swollen from kisses and bites and your face flushed, covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

Your nails dig into her bare shoulder as she kisses you, holding onto her for dear life. She kisses you rhythmically while you follow along, just as if she’s the conductor and you’re the orchestra at this very moment.

It’s just like the music that was playing on the radio in her car – the sounds of pianos and strings intertwining, forming a melody both so delicate and ferocious at the same time.

Her fingers trace down your side and between your thighs once more, fingertips briefly grazing the soft skin there before she drags a finger through your arousal and circles your clit. The action is familiar; you just hope she’ll finish you off this time.

You’re panting as blood rushes to your ears and head, lost in the sensation of Marilyn’s touch. She plunges two fingers into your core and begins pumping in and out of you at an increasingly erratic pace while simultaneously rubbing that sensitive spot on your cunt, drawing mewls from you.

You feel something beginning to tighten in your stomach, hips buckling as you near the peak. The sounds of her fucking you fill the room, humility wavering in your mind temporarily before you decide that you don’t care about anything else right now.

“I’m almost there,” you pant out, voice slightly hoarse from all the noises you've been making.

She tsks. You want to cry as she denies you an orgasm for the second time.

Marilyn stops touching you completely and doesn’t say a word; she leaves you with a bewildered look on your face, your mouth hanging open stupidly, whimpering in frustration. She flashes you a quick smirk, and you notice a bit of blood in the corner of her lips. You resist the urge to surge up to her and lick her lips clean of your own crimson sap.

Before any words can leave your throat – pleading for her to continue, begging unashamedly – she slides down your body, grazing her fingertips along your frame. She doesn’t waste any time as she goes to lick one long stripe through your cunt before entering you with her tongue.

A noise escapes your lips, breathy and high-pitched, almost like a hyena. Your hands fly to the older woman’s scalp to tug at her auburn locks, causing her to hum into your cunt, evident that your pleasure is also hers.

Marilyn’s lips attach to your clit, and it doesn’t take that much for you to feel the knot in your stomach start to uncoil, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as you arch your back and come into her mouth. Her name breathlessly leaves your lips like a desperate mantra you thought you would've never heard yourself say out loud until tonight.

You feel her tongue continue to attack at your core, even after you’ve came. Her pace doesn't falter, causing you to moan louder and louder. Soon after, you find yourself arching your back, muscles straining, coming once again.

It takes you a moment to come down to earth, steadying your breathing after a moment of ecstasy. The older woman uses a thumb to rub gentle circles on your thigh. She sits up. Her hair is messy from you pulling at it, and some of your arousal is still on her lips, causing you to flush at the sight.

She catches the way you stare at her, and she makes a show of slowly licking her lips. The gesture is erotic. It causes you to feel that familiar flame within you start up all over again.

“Now.” She pauses. “I wonder what you would look like on your knees for me.”

You sit up on your elbows, watching Marilyn swing her legs around to sit on the couch properly. You realise you haven't spoken for a minute because she goes to tease you.

“Oh, sweetheart, has the cat got your tongue?” She looks at you, pouting with mock sympathy.

You swallow thickly and shake your head in response. This was going to be a long, long night. You just hope your roommates decide to stay at the party until tomorrow morning.

“That’s what I thought.” She smooths a hand over her thigh. “Now, why don’t you put that tongue of yours to good use?”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill smut #wednesday 2022 #christina ricci #laurel gates #wednesday #wlw #wednesday netflix #marilyn thornhill x fem reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 7 months

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Number 13 for marilyn please, maybe r goes to the greenhouse to ask for some help on something and sees marilyn having fun while moaning r's name

Hey there, anon! Thank you for the request and your patience. I love the idea, and I had such fun writing this little fic for you!! Hope you Enjoy ♥️

Feeling your Body ~Mommy!Marilyn Thornhill xFem Teacher!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#13. “Oh. Ohhhhh.” *intensely blushes*

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, semi-public smut, self-pleasure, fingering, teasing, pet names, mommy kink, praise kink, admittance of feelings, begging kink, degradation kink, implied future smut, implied voyeurism kink…?, implied exhibitionist kink…?, etc.

Enjoy (;

You hadn’t meant to see anything. You swear you hadn’t.

You hadn’t meant to see this new, unfiltered side of Marilyn. This dominating, slightly sadistic side of her… The side of the red head completely spread out on her chair, fingering herself and moaning your name—

You had come to the greenhouses to ask Marilyn’s advice on one of the students, Wednesday Addams. You had knocked at her door, but the woman hadn’t answered. You called out her name lightly. Nothing. You then decided to open the door, see if Marilyn was in the greenhouse at all.

But when you opened the door, you found another sight entirely…

“Oh Y/N…” the sultry voice moaned.

You gulped and stepped into the greenhouse even more. And there before you, sat Marilyn, playing with herself with your name on her tongue. But you had given away your hidden nature. The woman suddenly stopped and looked up at you, and you were completely frozen.

“Well hello Miss L/N…” Marilyn purred seductively, “How can I help you…?”

“Oh. Ohhhhh.” You stammered, intensely blushing, and finally coming back to your senses “I’m so sorry Marilyn, I-I’ll come back later…!”

“Stay, sweet girl…” the redhead purred, “Why don’t you come help me over here…?”

You gulped and nod, slowly making your way over to Marilyn. She was swift to pull you into her lap when you neared her vicinity. You yelped at the action, making the woman chuckle.

“Did you like listening to me moan your name, Y/N…? Marilyn husked teasingly, emphasizing your name.

Shivers went down your spine at her words and you blushed even harder.

“I… Y-yes…” you whispered, embarrassed and looking down to the floor.

Marilyn took you by the chin and directed your gaze back to hers. Her eyes twinkled with dark lust and she smirked with wicked intentions.

“Such a little slut…” the red head murmured, her eyes really taking the time to take up and down your body frame.

You felt her eyes wander, making you squeeze your thighs needily, which didn’t go unnoticed by the woman.

“Oh, do you need something, sweet slut…?” Marilyn taunted.

“I… N-need you… please…” you whimpered.

The redhead’s face flashed with satisfaction at your pleading. Her hand started to crawl down to your trousers, unbuttoning them, pulling them aside. Before you could plead any more, her digits ran teasingly through your folds. You bucked your hips forward in spastic pleasure.

“Oh God—!” You breathlessly groaned, “Again again please!” You begged the redhead for more contact.

“You look so pretty when you beg, sweet slut…” Marilyn purred wickedly, while quirking her head and drinking in the utter deliciousness that was you.

Her fingers ran through your folds once more, then going to circle your clit. The redhead only pulled more reactions from you, spurring her on even more. Pretty soon, Marilyn was three fingers knuckle deep inside your aching pussy, thrusting and curling away to your and her own pleasure.

“Mmmm need… wanna… cum please—!!” You desperately moaned, clinging onto the redhead for dear life as she mercilessly fucked you.

“Say my name.” Marilyn demandingly purred, “Say it and I’ll let you cum…”

“M-mar… Marilyn—!!!” You cried out.

She started going harder and deeper with her fingers, her curls becoming brutal strokes against your walls, making you see stars before you even hit your high.

“Try again…” She taunted with a smirk.

“M-m…Mommy…!!” You begged with another cry.

This answer seemed to delight the woman.

“Good slut…” Marilyn cooed, “Cum for me, Y/N…”

God, your name on her liess once more truly sent you over the edge. You collapsed in the redhead’s hold, your whole body giving up on you as Marilyn fucked you to high heaven, up, over, and down your climax. Desperate moans and cries left your lips, which you muffled by screaming into the woman’s shoulder.

Pretty soon, you were a panting mess in Marilyn’s lap. She pulled her digits out of you and licked them clean, moaning at your taste. She then met your gaze once more.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time…” Marilyn panted with the biggest smirk, and all you could do was nod in breathless agreement.

~~~

Marilyn Thornhill Masterlist

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m1lfsh4ke · 9 months

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so THATS what’s under Marilyn’s clothes huh.

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cherryxsapphic · 5 months

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So, I have a request! (If you don’t like this request idea, you don’t have to write it!)

Marilyn x fem!(can be a student or a teacher)reader, where Marilyn is extremely overprotective over reader. R is used to her pritective nature, but it sometimes goes a bit too far, when Marilyn won’t let r hangout w her friends or go out in a certain outfit. Or when someone tries to hit on r, she would immediately come over and wrap her hand around r’s waist.

So basically just overprotective Marilyn, maybe some angst! You can choose how it goes!

Take your time <3

This is for the lovely @m1lflov3rrr I am dreadfully sorry that it took me literal months to even put this out, but I do hope you enjoy!!🍒

Also a special thanks to my pookie bear @h-doodles for helping me with this, I couldn't have done this without you!! 🥰

You were sitting down peacefully in the quad by yourself. Sandwich in hand as you jam out to some music blaring through your earbuds, bobbing your head slightly to the rhythm when you suddenly feel a sharp fingernail aggressively tapping your right shoulder. You jumped slightly at the sudden interruption, whipping your head towards the person in question, setting them with an annoyed look only to soften when you realized it was just Enid, Enid Sinclair, the local colorful werewolf. You take a moment to pause your music and pull out your earbuds, setting them down gently on the table alongside your forgotten sandwich. Spinning your body around the school bench, finally giving the very excited wolf your full attention, looking up at her from your seated position, you give her a sheepish smile before speaking.

“Sorry, Enid! I was so caught up in my music that I didn’t notice you there!”

"I know, silly! You've been hard to see around these past few weeks, so I just HAD to come over."

"I got busy…" You fight to keep your blush down as you think of what, or more accurately, who exactly got you busy. "My schoolwork has been slipping, so I asked a few teachers for extra work." You say, to cover it up.

Enid nods, understanding. Being a student with academic achievements, she often saw you poring over textbooks in the library OR trailing after your teachers for extra lessons during your free time, orders from your strict parents who monitored your progress over your head. “Well,” she starts, clasping her hands together. “Me and the girls have missed you a lot, so I wondered if you were free tonight?”

Guilt seeps into your bones when you hear the hope in her tone. You have been neglecting your friends and a dark whisper inside your brain–

“I suppose I’ve pestered our teachers enough, and I just finished passing the latest exam, so… I guess I'm free."

“Yayyy!!!” Enid does a little happy dance before lifting you for a hug. You shouldn’t be surprised by the excitable werewolf’s strength, but you gasp a bit anyway. “We’re going to a party in the woods tonight; you HAVE to come!"

When she finally puts you down, you sigh and shake your head. “The woods? Enid, you know Weems banned us from going there, right?”

“Don’t worry; the party is located somewhere TOTALLY safe—”

“Hey, girlies!” you stifle a scream when a cold hand suddenly touches your back. “Finally caught us a live one, huh?”

“Haha, hilarious, Tanaka.” your tone dripping with sarcasm as you turn around to give the vampire a playful slap on the hand.

“Don’t start. You’re going to the party, and I’m going to your dorm later to ensure you’re dressed right.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!”

And here you are in your dorm room, contemplating your life choices before sighing, putting on something comfortable, and grabbing your comfort jacket that belongs to Marilyn. You put the coat to your nose and breathe in her wavering scent, wishing you were with her instead of going to this stupid forest party. Falling on your bed, you bend over clumsily, grabbing your shoes off the ground and putting them on as you were just finishing tying your shoes—

Yoko and the FUCKING Scooby gang burst into your room like a pile of rats searching for cheese.

“Girliepop, you’re not wearing THAT to the party, right?” Yoko asked, looking you up and down.

While holding Mari's jacket, you looked down at your black jeans, red Converse, and a favorite baggy shirt. Then back to Yoko, who opened your closet and rifled through your clothes while Enid talked animatedly to a sulking Wednesday.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Yoko pointedly looks at you and pulls out a short, skimpy dress. You blush as you remember Marilyn telling you it was a dress for her eyes only and that you would never wear it out. “You’re simply holding out on us, omg.”

"Yeah, the party's in the woods, so that's a hard NO on wearing that one!"

"Oh come on, what's the point of having that snack of a body if you aren't gonna use the right wrappers?"

"Listen, my tits spill out in one move in that one, and I'd rather die than return it to the store because of anxiety, so you can just. Pick another one… please?"

Yoko pouts but acquiesces to your pleading. Flipping through some more, she finds a similar-looking skimpy dress, but a little longer than you were confident you'd make out with your dignity half-intact.

"Here."

"Oooh!" Enid moves over, done pestering Wednesday for the moment, and oohs and ahs over the dress before starting again. "Pair it with the heeled boots, and wear tights if you're concerned about the cold."

"I mean. I'm bringing along this jacket, but why heeled boots—”

“Because we said so. Now hop to it.”

Throwing your hands up, you take the new outfit and walk to your bathroom to change.

The party in the woods was in full swing, the rhythmic beat of music mingling with the laughter and chatter of the gathered crowd. Strings of fairy lights adorned the trees, casting a warm, enchanting glow over the makeshift dance floor. Enid, the excitable werewolf, led the charge in festivities, dragging you into the heart of the celebration.

As the night unfolded, the atmosphere grew electric, the energy contagious. You found yourself dancing with newfound friends, the pulsating music drowning out any lingering doubts. However, the borrowed outfit — a compromise between your comfort and the party's expectations — seemed to attract more attention than you anticipated.

Yoko, the lively vampire, strutted over, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Girl, you're the life of the party! Everyone's talking about that dress!"

You blushed, feeling both flattered and self-conscious. The beats throbbed louder, urging you to lose yourself in the music, and you obliged, dancing away the concerns that nagged at the edges of your mind.

But as the night wore on, a discordant note disrupted the harmony. The distant growls of the creature you encountered earlier echoed through the trees, casting a shadow over the revelry. The carefree atmosphere shifted, and hushed whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Enid, always exuberant, tried to downplay the unease. "Guys, it's probably just some forest critter. Don't let it ruin the party!"

Yet, the anxiety lingered, and a subtle tension threaded its way through the crowd. The music played on, but the once carefree dancing took on a more cautious rhythm.

Suddenly, the distant growls escalated into a deafening roar, and panic rippled through the partygoers. People scattered in all directions, the fairy lights casting eerie shadows as they dashed for cover.

Enid grabbed your arm, eyes wide with fear. "We need to get back to the school—now!"

Chaos ensued as the revelry devolved into a frenzied scramble. The once lively dance floor transformed into a chaotic scene of stumbling figures, their laughter replaced by shouts of panic.

As you ran back toward the safety of Nevermore, you couldn't shake the feeling that the creature's pursuit was closing in. The enchanted woods, once a backdrop for joyous gatherings, now harbored an ominous threat.

The party had taken a turn no one expected, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake. In the midst of the pandemonium, you yearned for the familiar embrace of Marilyn's jacket, a reminder of comfort amid the unforeseen disaster that had unfolded in the enchanted night.

‘I’m going to die. I’m going to fucking die, and it’s MY fault.’ I scream inside my head while I dart left and right through the trees. Protip: do not wear heels when going into the woods. Scratch that. Trust no one except Mari. Everyone is dumb EXCEPT Mari, especially when they say the woods are safe, there is NO monster, and you’re going to have SUCH a good time.

I could’ve enjoyed a nice cuddling session with Mari if I just stayed in bed and waited for her like usual, but no. I had to let myself get guilted and dragged to this party in these stupid heels and dress, and now I’m being chased by a BEAST, and I don’t even have my phone to give Mommy my goodbyes!’

The monster roars somewhere closer behind me, and I feel like I will have a HEART ATTACK! But I'll be fine once I get to the school, and look, there's the Hogwarts-looking building right there. So I just keep running. Thinking I'll be okay, my dumbass trips over a branch, and suddenly, I just want to give up. I feel like those dumb girls in those low-budget horror films.

As you scramble to your feet, panic gripping you like a vice, you hear the menacing growls of the pursuing creature drawing near. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you sprint toward the safety of the school building, your heels abandoned in the unforgiving underbrush.

The imposing silhouette of Nevermore looms ahead, a beacon of hope in the darkness. The monster's roars reverberate through the trees, pushing you to run faster, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Just when you think the creature is on the verge of catching you, the school's entrance comes into view. You burst through the doors, heart pounding, and slam them shut behind you, momentarily cutting off the creature's menacing sounds.

Safe within the confines of the school, you lean against the door, catching your breath. The echo of your heartbeats seems to drown out the lingering fear. The school hallway stretches before you, the familiar surroundings offering a stark contrast to the perilous adventure you just survived.

As you compose yourself, you realize that the night took an unexpected turn, and your friends might not have been entirely truthful about the safety of the woods. Thoughts of Marilyn flood your mind, and a profound longing for the comfort of her presence washes over you.

You decide to retreat to the quietude of your dorm room, shedding the borrowed outfit and slipping into the familiar warmth of Marilyn's jacket. The scent provides solace, grounding you in the reality that, despite the night's chaos, you are safe within the walls of Nevermore.

Reflecting on the events, you vow to prioritize your own well-being and not succumb to peer pressure. As you drift into a contemplative state, you can't help but yearn for the simplicity of sharing a peaceful moment with Marilyn, free from the chaos that lurks beyond the safety of Nevermore's embrace.

To be continued…

Sorry for the lack of Marilyn in this chapter but don't worry there will be more in part 2, if y'all want a part 2 you that is?? 🤭

Tags: @s1nful-sa1nt @sssappling2004 @marilynthornhill @proton-selfships @philip-15 @luucyyyy (and anyone else who wants to be tagged ♡)

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #laurel gates #laurel gates x reader #christina ricci #wednesday 2022 #writer community #creative writing #original work #original writing #amwriting #fantasy #x reader #x you #x fem!reader #aesthetic #lana del ray aesthetic

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glowingforestclan · 1 year

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laurel is incredibly funny for trying to give wednesday advice while also plotting to kill her and the entire school.

“is it really so difficult for you to admit that you made a friend?” but also “at least i’ll get to kill you, wednesday.”

#wednesday addams #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #the addams family #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega #christina ricci #enid sinclair #wenclair #emma myers #wednesday x enid #wednesday series #wednesday and enid

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remusjohnslupin · 9 months

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100% real conversation that happened before Tyler and Wednesday's crypt date.

(based on @leavesdriftinginthewind's hilarious tweet.)

#wednesdayedit #wyler #weyler #tyler galpin #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #wednesdaynetflix #yes I am tagging this as wyler #sue me #leavesdriftinginthewind

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daughter-of-the-undertaker · 6 months

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I need more Larissa x Marilyn content. 🥹

#larissa weems #marilyn thornhill #laurel gates #gwendoline christie #wednesday #christina ricci #sapphic #i didn‘t see the last episode

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fandom-geek17 · 1 year

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Why I actively think Tyler will be redeemed and Wyler will be endgame based on actual clues and my knowledge about movie-making (and not just because I am a raging Tyler apologist)

This is a long one so strap yourselves in, hahaha

First of all, Hunter Doohan confirmed that Tyler’s feelings for Wednesday were real because he didn’t know who she was or her significance to Laurel’s plan when they first met at the Weathervane. But I’d go even further and claim that he didn’t know her significance during the entire first episode. If he knew, why would he ever offer her a ride out of Jericho and offer her the police file that inadvertently led to her cracking the case and bringing Laurel down (but the argument could also be made that that’s why he gave her that file, to bring his abuser down).

Wednesday makes it abundantly clear over the entire season that she has no interest in Xavier whatsoever and is constantly turned off/annoyed by his presence and antics. And this might just be me personally, but Xavier reminds me a lot of an ex of mine who was extremely entitled, selfish, immature and giving major incel vibes. I feel like Xavier is the type of guy who is nice to a girl only when he is interested and/or wants something. And the way he treated Bianca at the Rave’N (immediate no-no) and immediately goes into pity party-mode whenever someone rejects him just irks me. But again, that might just be me.

Now compare that with Wednesday’s reaction to Tyler’s antics. Wednesday is not someone who wants closeness in the beginning, in any shape or form. She is honest, direct and blunt, with no interest in pretending she enjoys something to be polite. Yet she doesn’t object when Tyler manhandles her in ep 2 (in the forest), she never denies her interest in him in ep 4, her first reaction to attending the Rave’N with Xavier is ‘a bullet to the head’ whilst her reaction to attending with Tyler is to immediately start looking for a dress in her closet. She often seeks out his company when she doesn’t really have a reason to, like when she went through the trouble of going all the way to the Weathervane to ask Tyler about the meetinghouse instead just asking anyone else working at Pilgrim World. These small details are to me the ‘signals’ Tyler was referring to. And I think he also just felt the energy between them, or maybe when you’re a 16 year old boy, most things can be interpreted as ‘signals’ if there’s an interest on his part. Or it was just straight up manipulation, as Hunter stated on his instragram. Either way, we can’t deny that Wednesday seems to enjoy Tyler’s presence more than Xavier’s.

Speaking of Wednesday, this is WEDNESDAY ADDAMS. People claim Xavier is the “healthier choice”, which might be true for any other character. But I feel like it’s very OOC for Wednesday to choose one above the other for being “healthier”, not that I believe Xavier would be much healthier. Wednesday went as far as canonically confirming that Tyler is her type BECAUSE he’s a serial killing monster.

The Addams’ Family have a long history of embracing all things weird and unconventional. Fester would be over the moon hearing that a Hyde of all outcasts (his young crush) has captured Wednesday’s heart. Gomez and Morticia would be more than happy to give Tyler all the love and security he never got from his own family. Morticia smiles fondly when Pugsley mentions missing being waterboarded by Wednesday, I don’t think she would have any trouble embracing a traumatized outcast submitted to abuse and torture and then forced to do someone else’s bidding against their will. She mama-bear instincts would kick up.

Hunter Doohan also said that one of the things he looks forward to exploring in season 2 (now confirmed, yay!) is Tyler’s relationship with the Hyde, pulling each side. Who is the real Tyler and who is the Hyde? Does he have active control over the Hyde’s actions or are they all controlled by his master? Remember, we technically have no idea what Tyler did of his own free will and what he was forced to say and do (including that last fight in ep 8). I imagine the Hyde being more of a split personality rather just than man vs monster. The question is if only the Hyde-personality had access to his monster form.

We see that Tyler rebelled against Laurel when he could, when he wasn’t actively forced to do something. For example when he slipped Wednesday the police file (if we believe that theory) and when he chose to keep Eugene alive (Laurel said “take care of it”, clearly meaning “kill him” but since she never used the word ‘kill’, I believe he saw his chance). He also keeps pointing Wednesday in the right direction, even when he probably wasn’t supposed to according to his master, like when he helped her find the meeting house, helped her break into Laurel’s home, chased her and Enid into the basement where they could find more clues.

Grooming, abuse, torture, manipulation, and mind control!!! Need I say more? Tyler is a true victim of his circumstances and society. We must admit that it was pretty easy for Laurel to sink her claws into him. Lonely, traumatized boy with one dead parent and one to emotionally constipated to raise him through his trauma, and here comes Laurel and offers him the truth about his mother in exchange for mommy kink sexual advances until she kidnaps him to torture as she pleases in a cave. She basically presented herself as the sexual version of his mother that Freud loved to say young boys were so vulnerable to. Of course this lonely boy would fall for her act. Laurel even described herself as a plant metaphor in episode 4: some carnivorous varieties use sexual trickery or deception. She then made him think this entire nefarious plan was about him getting revenge on the way outcasts treated his mother.

We see Tyler screaming out for help, subtly and literally, when he tells Wednesday that he wants to “get out of this hellhole town” and later when he’s screaming in the bathtub in ep 3.

The writers keep mentioning Wyler’s “primal attraction” and how Wednesday is drawn to Tyler’s dark side even from the start when she didn’t know what he was. And I truly believe he feels the same way, he is so smitten when she states she would dump piranhas in the swimming pool again. They are both attracted to the darker aspects of their personalities, whereas I feel like Xavier has this romanticized view of Wednesday in his head and when she disproves that by being her morbid, honest self, his first instinct is to whine and feel sorry for himself. He doesn’t embrace every part of her character.

Netflix makes Wyler a large part of their promotion of the show, going as far as pinning Wyler-positive comments on Instagram and making Wyler at the dance their thumbnail for the show on Netflix and hyping Hunter Doohan in general.

If you compare Wyler and Wavier scenes, they tend to play very soft music and use soft/warm lighting during the Wyler scenes. Wavier scenes, sometimes have this too, but never as prominent as with Wyler. From what I’ve seen with other media, that is usually foreshadowing of the producers’ larger plan.

I have a Filler Couple Theory! And that is that the couple that becomes canon in the middle of a show’s entire runtime is almost never canon by the time the show ends. There are exceptions, of course. But generally, shows tend to follow a similar format: couple 1 is introduced as an idea in season 1, they may or may not become canon but the tension is there, for whatever reason couple 2 becomes canon in season 2/3 to create drama and more tension before couple one becomes endgame in season 3/3 (example Stancy in ST, Benvi in NHIE). An exception to this rule is if couple one is a blowburn over several seasons without a love triangle (example: Peraltiago in B99). The writers of Wednesday have planned 4 seasons. They end season 1 with Wyler broken up, hint that Wavier might take more precedence in season 2, and yet still keeps hyping Wyler as much as they do. I think Wavier will be a distraction/filler for Wednesday as Tyler regains her trust and they build so much sexual tension.

So, this was long and kind of all over the place. But as Enid, I write in my voice. And I will admit that some of these points may be down to pure manipulation on Tyler’s part, especially the signals thing. But part of what I love about this show is the ambiguity, the moral grey areas, the way they make a point of embracing the dark side of humanity and loving the characters through it. Until the show canonically confirms that there is no hope for Tyler/Wyler, I will continue to ship it. And I want to add that my will to ship Wyler has nothing to do with who I would personally choose for myself. If given the choice, I would date Enid before my mind could form the phrase ‘toxic relationship’, and I’m very much one of those boring straight people. But as a romantic partner for a dark, morbid character like Wednesday Addams, I would choose Tyler any day.

Tagging: @therulerofallpotatos

#wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #tyler x wednesday #wednesday x tyler #wyler #weyler #tysday #Laurel gates #just my thoughts and opinions #i'm not looking for hate #everyone is entitled to their opinion #but be polite please

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