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woewriting · 6 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ──── wednesday addams & fem!reader

── tags. soft wednesday, implied sex at the very end, no pronous used, but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. wednesday and reader are both adults.

── word count. 1.521

a/n. i'm late for wdw, i know, but i could not let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right? i hope you like it and im sorry for any mistakes. | masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, should I fear for my life?”

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

“You most definitely should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But only if it was made by your hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

“So… did you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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wesstars · 7 months

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heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear.

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing.

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park.

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss.

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron.

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you.

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips.

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow.

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind.

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet.

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.”

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,�� Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side.

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver.

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping.

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver.

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping.

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday.

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips.

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you.

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you.

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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herlondonboy · 1 year

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Love Bites

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

Summary: Your love language is biting.

Warnings: biting, fluff, short, making out (for like one paragraph), for my lovelies that adore biting (Luciano), spelling mistakes. Honestly, it was supposed to be worse than this.

Word Count: 0.4k

You loved biting.

Whether it be nibbling on Wednesday’s neck in the midst of a heated make out session, or biting her shoulder for no reason in the middle of class. Wednesday had to be honest and say that she didn’t exactly hate it. In fact, she loved it. The pain when you’d sink your teeth into her shoulder was more than pleasurable. It had her stifling a moan with her hand at the back of your History class.

Your canines were pointy and sharp, resembling that of fangs, and so you often broke her skin. At first you were apologetic, but Wednesday would just look at you with dark eyes and order you to do it again and continue. You’d smile and bite her again, causing her to groan out in ecstasy.

Wednesday was sat on your lap. Back-rolled and head throw rearwards. Pain and pleasure mixed together as your teeth gnawed on her neck, surely creating a mark that would last a while. Once you left her neck to breathe, she held your face and pulled you into a sweet kiss. Her shirt had been opened for you to bite her where you pleased and so her breasts were pushed up against your collarbone.

It was no lie that Wednesday was completely enamoured of you. The way that your teeth would reflect the light when you smirked, canines on full display. How you’d always wear sunglasses, for no reason whatsoever other than the fact that you liked how they fit your face. If you told Wednesday that you were a vampire, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

In English, you and Wednesday were sat in the back corner. Wednesday was writing with her left hand as you held her right one, doodling in the margin of her notepad. You then raised her arm and bit her suddenly. She didn’t even flinch, just hiding a smile as you leaned down and began nibbling on her forearm.

“y/n.” You looked up at the teacher with Wednesday’s arm in your mouth. He raised an eyebrow and you dropped it, frowning. The class carried on as normal whilst Wednesday admired her new wound. Sure enough, a speck of blood flowed out of the bite marks and Wednesday’s lips quivered upwards before you groaned and rested your head on the table.

Enid had no idea how you slept the way you did. Wednesday with her arms crossed like she was in a coffin and you curled into her side, subconsciously biting her torso. She has taken pictures and showed them to you the next day, asking how. You just shrugged her off with a wide smile.

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talesofesther · 1 year

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I told the moon about you

Wednesday Addams x OC/Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds herself enchanted by the black wolf who always watches her play the cello in the dead of night.

A/N: This was written for a request sent by @roleplayfandom and I combined it with an idea of mine that I've had for a while, hope you don't mind and can still enjoy it. Arguably one of the most important stories I've written, because this oc has been my baby for so long, and I'm so happy to finally have the opportunity to include her in one of my stories; just hope I was able to do her justice with this. <3

Word count: 6,4k (sorry)

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There was a drizzle in the air, the wind carried it around easily; tiny droplets of rain landed on the strings of Wednesday's cello that shook with each note she played.

Past the thin rain and clouds, the brightness of the full moon was nothing but a faded blur, casting a silver glow over the Addams girl and serving as the only witness to her spectacle.

The strong melody traveled with the wind same as the rain did, reaching the deepest parts of Nevermore and undoubtedly waking up a few students from their slumber. It only served as incentive — Wednesday could feel the burn on her fingertips as her song reached its momentum. The pain was welcomed, embraced.

When she released the strings, a soft sigh was let out as well. She blinked up at the moon above her, silently thanking it for its loyalty in keeping her most vulnerable moments a secret.

With uncanny delicacy, Wednesday lowered her cello, closing the case with a soft click.

The rain looked like it was starting to pick up, bigger droplets started to kiss Wednesday's cheeks, making their way down to her chin. The sky was darkening, with the moon fighting for a chance at a last goodbye to the one responsible for her favorite lullabies.

Wednesday walked up to the railings, her hands leaning against the wet concrete there. Save for the howling wind, it was strangely quiet.

But there was something different with today. Wednesday could feel it. She could feel the weight of a mysterious presence nearby.

As expected, her instincts never failed. It was dark, pitch black, the shape of trees blending together with one another in the distance.

But in the middle of the darkness, a pair of caramel eyes were spotted. They belonged to what appeared to be a black wolf; big in its size, ears pointy and tail long, fur a little spiked as it glinted from the raindrops that fell on it, almost resembling a starry night sky. It was just sitting there, on the grass of the gardens outside. Its golden eyes fixed intently all the way up to the balcony where Wednesday was standing.

The Addams girl expressed no reaction other than angling her chin up with furrowed brows, a dare; and the wolf understood, because it slowly stood up, its ears resting back against its head before it trotted out of sight and into the woods.

Wednesday remained under the rain until she could feel the wetness of it seeping into her clothes. Her hands held onto the railings tightly.

Turns out the moon wasn't the only witness tonight.

—

Those same golden eyes followed Wednesday in her dreams, and she woke up frustrated for not knowing who they belonged to.

Was it just a wild animal passing by or a student braving the woods past curfew?

The thought of the wolf being a student seemed… unlikely, because it looked much different from Enid when compared to her 'wolfed out' form. The black wolf was simply that, a wolf — albeit a tad bigger. Yet Wednesday didn't discard the possibility of it being someone. Someone who was watching her.

She tried pushing the thought out of her mind during the day for the sake of her grades.

"Miss Addams?"

Wednesday snapped her head up, only to see her anatomy teacher and the whole entirety of the class with their heads turned her way, eyes expectant as they waited for something to happen.

A scowl came to Wednesday's face at the unwanted attention. She rested both hands on her table, briefly realizing that the board had three extra paragraphs of lessons written on it that weren't in her notebook yet.

"I made you a question," the teacher continued, one of her hands coming to rest on her waist, "for how long can a gorgon stone a person?"

Wednesday gulped, her lips hovering open as she searched her mind for the useless information yet came empty-handed.

The teacher was annoying, one of the least liked by the Addams girl. She was old and wore long and colorful skirts, with obnoxiously large glasses resting atop her nose.

"It depends on the gorgon," a familiar voice suddenly said, "but usually from two to four hours."

Wednesday glanced beside her to where the owner of said voice sat, and was met with a smirk being directed at her. She huffed in annoyance, visibly rolling her eyes.

You had transferred to Nevermore a little over two months ago — adorning a pair of dark sunglasses you never took off and dressed in all black, save for the light pink pendant of your necklace — instantly getting into Wednesday's nerves the moment you stepped foot into the school and called her 'sweetheart'.

"Very well." The teacher looked between you and Wednesday, not entirely pleased that Wednesday wasn't the one who answered but deciding to let it pass, and turned around to write on the board again.

Wednesday didn't know what your deal was, no one did. No one knew who your family was, what were your abilities, or the reason you enrolled in Nevermore; not even Enid knew, and she was the gossip queen. Despite the ever-present sunglasses, one thing Wednesday knew for a fact was that you weren't a vampire, just by the way you scrunched your nose at the mere sight of blood; but that's about everything she knows so far.

Too smug for your own good, you leaned back on your chair. Wednesday could feel your gaze roaming up and down her body, before you said, quietly; "you're welcome-"

There was sunlight coming through the dusty windows. Wednesday could see her reflection in your glasses. "Shut up."

"Sweetheart," you finished with a grin.

The pencil that was thrown in your direction missed you only by an inch.

—

When Wednesday walked out onto the balcony of her dorm the next night, the wolf was already there.

She got a little taken aback by it, halting in her steps and gripping tighter onto the case of her cello. Wednesday immediately discarded the possibility of it being a coincidence or just a wild animal passing by. The wolf was there for her.

Those caramel eyes held a staring contest with Wednesday, and they eventually won. Satisfied, the wolf then lay down on the grass… and waited.

Long beats passed by until Wednesday finally sat down on her chair and adjusted her cello to be played. Her movements slow and calculated, all too aware of the heavy stare on her.

The moon was bright in the night sky, and Wednesday briefly glanced up at it, partly searching for some kind of reassurance but only finding that it wasn't a night of full moon.

When her gaze found the wolf again, she saw it looking up at the moon as well. The sharp silhouette of its muzzle being highlighted by the silver glow, fur flowing like silk with the wind.

Wolves sing for the moon, maybe that's why this one took a liking to the Addams girl.

There was hesitance on the way Wednesday's fingers hovered over the strings. Save for the occasional twitch of its tail, the wolf was unmoving on the grass, patiently watching.

Wednesday could tell the wolf to leave again, part of her knew it would obey. She didn't. She only closed her eyes, and started playing.

—

The next day, Wednesday made a trip to the school's library. She dug up every single book about werewolves and lycanthropy that she could find — some of them old, pages fragile to the touch and covered in a thick layer of dust.

The place was mostly deserted as per usual, and Wednesday saw no harm in staying. A table waited for her in the middle of the tall bookshelves, the only one hidden from sunlight.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little thrilled at the prospect of a new mystery. Things have been dull at school without an evil pilgrim trying to destroy it.

Though she was able to read in peaceful silence for all of ten minutes.

"What's with the sudden interest in furs?"

A heavy sigh left Wednesday's lips when she heard your voice. She sat straighter on her chair and chose to ignore you, pointedly turning the page of her book and focusing on it.

You hopped up on the table, sitting there cross-legged so you could face Wednesday, "you know your roommate is one, right? I bet she'd be happy to answer your questions."

See, there's a reason why Wednesday is bothered by your presence. Every time you're near, every time she can hear nothing but your voice or feel nothing but the warmth radiating from your body; Wednesday's little black heart gains a burst of color that should never exist, it picks up a faster rhythm and makes her skin crawl uncomfortably. It's a feeling that's been there once before, fleetingly, much smaller than it is now. But she's no stranger to what comes with it.

"I don't remember asking for your advice," Wednesday said, still refusing to look at you, her bangs hiding her eyes from you.

"Ouch," you mumbled, leaning back on your hands, "was just trying to help."

No one else but you could make Wednesday feel the slightest bit of remorse for snapping. And it's not like she paid attention to the last three lines she just read in the book anyway. Begrudgingly, Wednesday glanced up at you, and the moment her eyes found you, she knew it'd be a whole challenge in itself to look away again; the dim golden light of the table lamp framed your profile and the way your hair fell over your shoulder — for a second, it reminded Wednesday of her wolf.

Her wolf. The thought jolted her back to reality and she cleared her throat, heat rising to her cheeks as if you'd be able to read her thoughts.

"When are you gonna stop chasing after me like a lost puppy?" Wednesday didn't sound half as confident as she should for those words.

You raised an eyebrow at that, almost as if you wanted to be challenged. You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees, so you could cast over every twitch on Wednesday's expression, your personal space shy of mingling with hers. "When you ask me to," you whispered.

The air felt electric, there was something enticing about the way you refused to back down sometimes. Wednesday felt the hair at the back of her neck rising with a shiver. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under already — or at least fighting for air between her and this damn table. Wednesday couldn't decide which outcome she liked best.

Wood scratched against the floor as she suddenly pulled back the chair beside hers; "sit down properly, stay quiet," without looking at you, she shoved one of the books in your direction, "we're looking for a werewolf who can transform without a full moon."

—

Nothing. There was nothing in any of the books.

Wednesday walked back to her dorm without having learned a single thing. None of the books in the school had anything remotely close to the creature she saw the past two nights. Frustration was eating at her insides because she was running out of leads to follow, a dead end steadily approaching.

She went up the stairs of Ophelia Hall in a haste, pushing the door to her room out of the way and causing a loud thump that got Enid jumping on her bed, almost throwing her cell phone to Wednesday's side of the room.

"Jesus Wednesday, what did the door do to you?" Enid grumbled, sitting up on her bed.

Wednesday didn't respond, she threw her black backpack by the feet of her bed and came to stand in front of Enid. "What do you know of werewolves that can transform without a full moon?"

Slowly, a frown came to Enid's features. She turned off her phone when Wednesday kept glaring at it. "Nothing? Werewolves don't usually change without a full moon," Enid explained, confusion evident in her tone.

"And what if they did?"

"Then they're most likely not a werewolf."

Wednesday clenched her jaw in annoyance, she tugged at the tie around her neck, taking it off and messing up her hair in the process.

"Uh- my mother used to tell me about people who could shift into wolves at will, when I was younger," Enid kept going, wondering if that's what Wednesday was after.

The tie fell to her feet and Wednesday came to sit beside Enid; "tell me."

"Well, I don't know much about it, just that they're technically not werewolves. At least not like me," Enid shrugged, her colorful nails tapping her knee as she searched her brain for the stories she heard as a kid. "Oh, people used to call them hellhounds… pretty creepy if you ask me," she grimaced momentarily, "because they could change form whenever they pleased, and their… looks didn't help either, it made others scared of them. Most of the hellhounds succumbed to the fame and lived up to the name back in the 1850s I think, from what I know."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, "lived up to the name?"

"Killers," Enid gulped, "or hunters, as they'd call it. My mother always told me they were no good, so I guess the bad rep still follows," she shrugged, "maybe that's why no one has seen one for the past twenty years or so."

—

Wednesday didn't sleep that night. She kept staring at her ceiling and going over everything that Enid had told her. And the only other thought on her mind was you. It was inevitable, too fitting for it to be a coincidence.

Every time she's seen that wolf she felt the exact same tug on her heart that you so inconveniently brought. It couldn't be a coincidence.

For a week straight, Wednesday waited for the wolf to appear every night so she could start playing her cello. And every night without fail, the wolf was there; same place, same time. It would lay down, watch her, and then leave.

—

On the tenth night, Wednesday wasn't on the balcony of her dorm. She decided to break the pattern.

There was no moon in the sky tonight, it almost looked like a storm was brewing. The air was frigid outside, the grass already coated with a thin layer of ice. Wednesday enjoyed the cold, but even she was reprimanding herself for having only one coat on.

Glancing down at her phone, Wednesday saw that it was already five minutes past the usual time the wolf showed up. She wondered if it saw the empty balcony and left. Or maybe it wasn't going to show up at all tonight. She felt strangely disappointed at the thought.

A twig snapped behind Wednesday, causing her to hastily turn around with a gasp lingering on her tongue. The trees stood tall in front of her, creating a blanket of pure darkness between them, nothing could be seen. Nothing, except a pair of golden eyes. For a moment, they looked like they were floating on nothing, intently watching the girl in front of them as if she was prey.

For several beats, Wednesday waited. And then, one paw stepped out of the woods and into the grass, causing a chill to run down her back — not from fear, at least not only fear.

The name hellhound has never seemed more fitting. One paw in front of the other, white air huffing from its nose with each breath, fiery eyes, and fur as black as the night. It was almost as if darkness became alive.

Admittedly, it was bewitching.

The wolf, even on all fours, was almost as tall as Wednesday; and still, it kept its distance. If she didn't know any better, Wednesday would say it was afraid of her.

The night was suddenly calm, with not a single soul around to witness. Wednesday had come all the way down here tonight to put an end to things, discover who this wolf was and the reason behind all this… stalking?

Yet any words had died on her tongue and she found herself taking a step closer. The moment felt strangely delicate. When the wolf didn't move, she took two more steps.

Wednesday was reaching out before realizing it. The wolf's ears twitched, caramel eyes following her every move until her hand was barely grazing the dark fur. It was silky, engulfing her hand in a blanket of darkness as it sunk into the wolf's cheek.

Wednesday didn't dare breathe, trapped in a moment that felt unreal. But her attention was soon caught by a glint of color, dangling from the wolf's neck.

The wolf backed away as soon as Wednesday tried to take a closer look, bright eyes looking at her one last time before it bolted away into the woods.

—

The next night, her wolf didn't show up. And Wednesday sat on the balcony of her dorm in silence, waiting for something she knew wouldn't happen. She didn't play. Loneliness clawed at her heart.

A loneliness that shouldn't be there, but it was.

Wednesday found herself slipping away when the moon was highest in the sky, her bare feet feeling the cold of the wooden floor as she walked the empty hallways of Ophelia Hall. Maybe a walk out in the cold would take her mind of off foolish matters.

She walked until she eventually reached the main doors that led outside, stopping short of crossing the threshold. There was a figure sitting on the grass just ahead, cross-legged and looking up at the moon.

Wednesday would recognize you anywhere. She wondered why, for a fleeting second. "What are you doing?"

You tensed when you heard her voice. You had heard her coming, you heard the soft pattern of her steps down the stairs. You just weren't expecting her to talk. You didn't turn around to face her when you spoke; "admiring the moon."

Subconsciously, Wednesday's gaze shifted to the natural satellite in the sky, before settling back on you. She could barely make out the silhouette of your nose and cheeks, but she could tell you were smiling. Foolish. She thought to herself.

Why would you look at the moon as if it held your heart's affection?

Why would look at the moon like that, when Wednesday was standing right there?

The Addams girl let out an indignant scoff at her own inner thought, reprimanding herself for even coming up with it. She couldn't possibly be feeling jealous of a floating rock.

"What are you doing up?" You eventually asked, your voice gentle into the night.

If you turned around, you'd see Wednesday chewing at the inside of her cheek as she tried to chase away the mess of feelings swimming in her stomach. You'd see her take half a step toward you before deciding against it, and instead rushing back inside without giving you an answer.

But you didn't need one. Part of you already knew why she was there. It was the same for you, and it was bittersweet that you ended up meeting in the middle anyway, even if for a moment. Part of you wanted to run after her and just tell her.

—

You weren't sure why you did it.

On the first night, it was mere curiosity. You could remember the coldness of the grass beneath your paws, announcing the inevitable arrival of winter. You could remember the howling wind, causing your ears to twitch as the fur there felt sensitive to the force of it. You could remember the first drops of rain hitting your nose as you walked and how that's when you heard the first note of her song.

You followed it easily, soon finding yourself in the gardens that her balcony overlooked. And even seeing her all the way from down there, she was nothing short of entrancing. It was like you could feel her emotions through the music.

You never meant for Wednesday to see you though, even if all she'd see was a black wolf. But it happened, and yet you kept coming back, night after night; you couldn't help yourself. You started missing her. Because listening to her play felt like an escape from your unfortunate reality. It put you at ease.

But you should've known Wednesday would not settle for so little, you should've known from the moment you found her in the library, already digging up every last bit of information on anything regarding werewolves. You should've stopped then.

You didn't. Instead, you allowed her even closer, close enough to touch. On that night, part of you knew she'd already figured it all out.

—

It was a gray day outside. Fitting, you thought to yourself; as it was also your most dreaded day of the year. There was no more dodging it, you could fake sickness or an injury only so many times until it gets too obvious.

From your dorm's window, you could already see the familiar car pulling up in the parking lot. There was a bitter taste on your tongue, a suffocating feeling weighing down on your chest for what was to come. It felt like drowning.

It's tradition. That was what your father always told you. It's keeping the memory of our ancestors alive. As if they were anything worth remembering.

You couldn't care less. Part of you wanted to yell at him to stop living in the past, but you'd probably lose your tongue for that. Literally. He had called you yesterday to let you know he'd be coming, as if you weren't stressing over it for a whole week already.

There was a chilly air outside, you could feel it even before walking out the doors that led to the quad; and it was right as you were making your way out, that she bumped into you. A quiet grunt left her lips at the impact, and she only didn't fall to the ground because your hands steadied her; your hold warm on her waist, keeping her body the closer she's ever been to you.

Now, you never intended to fall for the resident Addams of the school. It just happened. Maybe it was your incredible bad luck; or those dark eyes that sometimes put the midnight sky to shame with their beauty. The teasing came with the package of your growing feelings for her, it was your natural defense mechanism whenever your heartbeat skyrocketed at the mere smell of her perfume. Though you could swear that, sometimes, you managed to get her cheeks a tad rosier than normal. It got you wondering if it was wishful thinking to consider the small possibility of her returning your affections.

"You good?" You asked, subconsciously squeezing her waist.

Wednesday stumbled back when she realized that if she leaned forward just a tad more it would result in her nose brushing yours. She blinked multiple times to focus back on you, yet the first thing her eyes found was the light pink pendant of your necklace, the very same she saw on the wolf the other night.

For someone who's always so hard to read, she let the facade slip pretty easily this time. Wednesday's features did something complicated, as if she wasn't sure what she should be feeling.

"You're my wolf," the words rolled off her tongue against her volition, her wide eyes darting from your necklace to the dark sunglasses resting on top of your nose.

An awkward chuckle escaped you. You felt a lot more timid than you thought you would, "what?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw, she felt anger but wasn't sure towards what; "you're the wolf I see every night, aren't you?"

Your lips hovered yet no words came out, you took a step away from her. If it where any other time, you'd be happy to bounce arguments off of her until inevitably confirming her idea; but her timing wasn't ideal, "W-Wednesday, now is not a good time-"

"Why did you hide it-"

"What part of 'hurry up' did you not understand?" A gruff voice interrupted both you and Wednesday. You only gulped and looked down at your feet, while Wednesday turned her head to see a tall man walking towards you. He wore a dark red suit and had the same golden eyes Wednesday saw on her wolf every night, though his held a much darker undertone to them. The man's gloved hand closed around your arm with a tight grip. "We don't have all day."

"I'm sorry, father," you mumbled as he dragged you away and you tried to keep up with his steps. You turned around to give Wednesday a last tight-lipped smile, "see you later, Wednesday."

—

The sun was nowhere to be seen when your father dropped you back at school again.

You had brushed your teeth three times already, but it still felt like the taste lingered, making you nauseous.

Part of you was grateful to have come back late, Nevermore's hallways were mostly empty at this hour already so you didn't have to explain your looks. It's not like you couldn't have freshened up at your family's cabin, you just didn't want to stay a minute longer than necessary.

So you hurried into the first bathroom you found, not really considering the fact it was a communal one and anyone could walk in on you.

—

Wednesday wouldn't call herself obsessive, more like committed. She had pending matters with you, and she was going to get to the bottom of them.

So of course she kept an eye out for when you'd return to school. She saw the car drop you off by the gates, following after you as soon as you walked inside.

When Wednesday pushed open the bathroom door, you were standing in front of the mirror, damp paper towels in your hand as you tried to clean a rather nasty cut on your cheek. Your sunglasses rested atop the sink, giving Wednesday a clear view of your eyes; they were a shade of caramel she was all too familiar with, the same ones that have been keeping her company at night.

You tensed up when you noticed her, your hand freezing midair as you were about to throw the paper into the trash can.

There was a silence that stretched uncomfortably as none of you seemed to know what to do next. You were shifting on your stance, breathing unsteadily and Wednesday feared you might run away, again.

She took a single step in your direction and asked the one thing she came for; "why have you been stalking me?"

As if breaking from a trance, you looked down and away from her; allowing your hair to fall from behind your ear and hide your profile. "I wasn't stalking you."

"What would you call standing outside my window at late hours of the night only to watch me play the cello?" Wednesday raised her eyebrow pointedly.

You chuckled humourlessly, "now you make me seem like a creep." You felt small under her piercing gaze, embarrassment twirling inside your stomach. Sure, when she said it like that, it sounded weird. But you were just enjoying good music, right?

You slowly turned around to face her, your hands gripping tightly onto the sink's edge behind you. "You never told me to leave," you said quietly.

Any words Wednesday might have thought of died on her tongue. She felt uncharacteristically shy knowing that it was you who'd been witnessing her late-night lullabies. Yet she was also glad that it was you, and not someone else.

You shrugged weakly, focusing your gaze on your feet, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just- I heard you one night and-" you glanced up at her with a bittersweet smile, fragility still lingering on your heart and making your vision blur over. Even under the cheap artificial light of the bathroom, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen; alabaster skin contrasting with soft dark hair, sharp eyes, and burgundy lips — she had your heart on a leash.

"And I was blown away," you continued quietly as your feelings escaped you, "it was like I could feel what you were feeling through the music, and it was so freeing… I had to come back to it."

There was a distant ache in Wednesday's lungs, because she refused to breathe. Her heart was thundering against her ribcage as she took in each of your words. No one has ever made her feel as if she was a piece of art, worthy of a display at the most renowned museum, like you just did.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was stalking you," you breathed.

"Why keep it a secret?" She asked then.

Her sudden gentleness startled you. You've never heard her voice so soft. "I feared you might hate me." It went beyond just late-night encounters with a wolf Wednesday didn't know was you; you feared she'd hate what you could turn into; you feared she might see you as the thing you least want to be if she ever found out what you try to hide behind sunglasses and a snarky attitude.

It's because of the way your voice breaks at the end, that Wednesday finally looks at you. And she sees the tiny splatters of blood on your cheek, a cut running from your lip to near your ear, scrapes and bruises in your hands — you're nothing short of a mess.

And you weren't hers. Wednesday knew you weren't hers to worry about, to care for, to protect. Yet she had the annoying urge to do it all anyway.

She wordlessly closed the distance between you, the sound of her boots loud against the bathroom tiles. Taking a few paper towels, Wednesday dampened their edge under the running water of the sink. She hesitated before coming closer, it felt like crossing a line, walking down a road with no way back. Her eyes never left you as she came to stand in front of you.

Your grip on the sink's edge was bruising, knuckles white. You were so quiet, so on edge, so shaky; your eyes had a darkness around them, your lips quivering. It felt all wrong. Wednesday hated seeing you like this, without your usual light.

She raised her hand slowly, stopping short of reaching your cheek, "may I?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth rushing to your heart at the delicacy you didn't know she was capable of. A barrier had fallen between you. When you leaned against her touch, Wednesday started gently cleaning the few places still stained with blood on your skin.

"Did he do this to you?" Wednesday couldn't hold the question back anymore. A different kind of anger bubbled in her chest — one that was mixed with an unusual sense of protectiveness. "Your father?"

"Not him," you choked out, unable to look her in the eyes — not wanting to, "not directly."

Wednesday frowned at that, her eyes tried to chase after yours but you avoided her.

"He makes me do it." A tear rolled down your cheek, you bit into your lip to contain a sob, "he always makes me do it."

Wednesday would never dare call herself an empathetic person, but her chest clenched in pain to see you hurt. One of your tears fell on her thumb that rested on your cheek, and she wanted to take all the pain to herself.

"But I hate it, Wednesday," you told her fiercely, desperate for her to believe you, a new batch of tears coming to your eyes when you finally looked up at her, "I hate the killing."

The moon was high in the sky when Wednesday walked out of the bathroom, with you close by her side. The darkness of the night easily hid the way her hand was holding onto yours.

And as you walked through the gardens together, Wednesday could feel the shift in the air. You had told her about the 'stupid tradition', how your family gets together once a year for the hunt, and how you felt dirty, disgusted at the feeling of sinking your canines into the white fur of the rabbit. Yet they still make you do it.

The door to her dorm came before yours. You stopped in front of it with her, nothing but the dim yellow light hanging from the ceiling to make you company. The moment felt more intimate than it should be. Wednesday didn't look like the girl who threw pencils at you in class — there was a faint blush to her cheeks and her pupils were blown wide — she looked like someone you could love.

"Why don't you ever take it off?" Wednesday asked, shooting a brief glance at the necklace hanging from your neck.

You take the light pink pendant between your fingers, tracing the nooks and crannies in it, "it was my mom's," you said softly, "she was the only person who ever told me I didn't need to be what others said I was. That I didn't have to carry the sins of my forbearers."

Wednesday nodded softly, glancing up at you before she turned around. Her hand left yours and she instantly missed the warmth there, it made her think of how lonely the nights started to feel when her wolf wasn't there.

Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob, she looked at you from over her shoulder, "if you wish to see me play, stop lurking around," she pushed the words out quickly, "Enid is out until nine most nights."

And with that, Wednesday closed the door in your face, not giving you an opportunity to ask about the abrupt invitation.

On what was usually the worst day of the year for you, Wednesday managed to make you go to sleep with a smile.

—

There was suddenly an unspoken thing in the air.

Wednesday went about her day as per usual, following her routine precisely. But there was something making her feel as if spiders were crawling around inside her stomach; it happened each time she walked into a room hoping to find you there, each time she'd feel you looking her way and doing a poor job of pretending otherwise, each time she found herself checking the time on the clock to see how long was left for the sun to set, and especially, each time Enid pointed out her looking at you.

When night came, Wednesday had her cello already set up outside, and she sat on her bed with her eyes fixed on the door. She felt a little silly, waiting on you like this even if you hadn't given her the slightest hint you'd be coming at all.

But she hoped you would.

It was two minutes past the usual time she'd go out to play her songs, that Wednesday heard three knocks on her door. She opened it to reveal you on the other side, looking as nervous as she felt.

"Hi," you greeted with an awkward smile.

"Hello," she bit back a smile of her own.

You followed after her when Wednesday quietly made her way outside. You felt a little out of place, up here instead of down there on the grass. But when Wednesday played the first note on her cello, it was as if the whole rest of the world went quiet, and it was just you and her.

You figured you'd never be able to settle on watching her from a distance anymore. Not when you'd just had a taste of listening to her music so loud and clear, of watching her up close, following each small movement of her fingers on the strings and the twitches on her expression as she immersed herself in the melody. She captivated you in a way no other soul ever did.

Wednesday had her eyes closed the whole time, she knew she'd stumble on the notes if she blinked them open and saw the way you were looking at her — she could feel it though, the weight of your gaze; it was enough.

Only when the last note stretched out, that she did look back at you. And sure enough, the song ended with abruptness as she lost her focus.

Because Wednesday realized that you were looking at her the same way you looked at the moon. Maybe you always have been, for all of those nights you laid outside in the cold only to watch her play. She wondered for a moment if that is what love looked like.

And maybe that's the reason why, before even getting up, she decided she'd take that gamble.

"You are so amazing," you breathed out, your lips hovering as you gestured around in search of words good enough to describe your feelings.

Wednesday put her cello aside, getting up from her chair to take the few steps that separated you.

"I mean, every time that I hear you play I'm just-" you choked on your words, your eyes finding hers when you realized that with each beat of your frantic heart, she was coming closer, closer.

"I'm just in love," you told her in nothing but a whisper.

Wednesday had taken a hold of your jacket, and she halted only for a second when the word love left your lips. She didn't say it, but the way she was looking at you with the softest of eyes held a lot of love too.

The kiss she pulled you into might have been long overdue, given both of your eagerness. You were quick to grasp her waist and pull her body as close to yours as humanly possible.

Wednesday cupped your cheeks, holding you in place as her nose bumped yours and she gave a gentle nip on your lower lip.

She kept her lips on yours until her lungs screamed for air, pulling away slowly, feeling each one of your deep breaths grazing her lips. Wednesday felt your nails gently pressing against her spine, she felt you trace a path from her jaw to right below her ear where you chose to place a lingering kiss.

And she knew, right then and there, that she'd never be able to look up at the moon again and not think of her wolf.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

A/N: This is a storyline I'm definitely willing to expand, so if you have any requests regarding Wednesday and her wolf, feel free to send them in.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @jjsmaybank20 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany @v1ci0us @the-nightshades-library @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @greyscxle-is-taken

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story #jenna ortega x reader

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spaghettiposts · 4 months

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Video Games

Reader x Wednesday Addams

Summery: Video games are a waste of time in Wednesdays opinion, being with you however is not.

Warnings: First attempt at writing for Wednesday.

A/N: Lemme know if y’all would wanna see more of Wednesday from me I’m thinking about writing for Tara too!

“There are more fruitful things to do aside from staring at a screen all day.”

Lifting your head from your said screen, you raised a judgemental brow. Wednesday sat with her back turned from you, typing away, she had allowed you to sit lay on her bed in the meantime so long as you promised to stay silent. The noises your console gave off broke that promise, one quick narrowed look from the goth had you lowering the volume instantly.

“Like staring at a typewriter all day?” You retorted with amusement in your voice. She paused her typing for a minuscule moment before continuing her steady pace.

“I’ll have you know my writing sessions improve memorization, vocabulary, and keep me from strangling you.” You could see a cocky smirk form on her face. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Shrugging your shoulders you sucked your teeth, a reply fresh on your tongue. “I don’t know, dying in your hands sounds like the most lucky I’ll ever be.”

At that, Wednesday froze, looking down to her paper before ripping it off, a prominent scowl appearing. You grinned to yourself behind the device, knowing damn well you had made her slip up. The small tints of red on her cheeks almost missable, just confirmed that.

“Disturb my writing time again and I’ll throw that…thing off my balcony.” She huffed, folding whatever she did get done during the duration of your visit into a neat pile. It wasn’t much whatsoever, a pattern that only repeated every session you were around.

You simply laughed in response, causing her stomach to grow spiders. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch you or shut you up in another form.

In different circumstances she’d respond with haste, quickly dismissing you from her dormitories so she could focus. But for some reason, no matter how close she was to saying no, it never happened. Wednesday supposed that was fine, you weren’t completely irksome.

But if those little noises, coming from your Nintendo? Kept happening she might just come to say it.

“I thought I had warned you to turn off the noise.” She snapped, face scrunching at the weird noises of a man crying. The noise didn’t even resemble a realistic cry, what on earth. “What even is that?” She questioned.

You smiled at the clear curiosity she showed. Not that she’d ever admit. Scooting over on her bed—carefully not to ruin her perfectly folded sheets—patted the space next to you. “Come here and I’ll show you.” You offered, receiving a cold scoff in response. “What? Come on Wednesday. We both know you aren’t getting any more writing done, why not unwind?”

Unfortunately, seeing as she had neatly arranged everything back in its usual place. You were correct, obviously Wednesday refused to let you know that, reluctantly trudging along to her bed. Muttering small things about how “I’d get more writing done if you left.”

“Mhm sure Addams.” You snickered, lifting your arm up to put around her shoulder, bringing her into you. She said nothing, adjusting to the position until she found the perfect spot to rest. On your chest.

“Technology is a man-made brain rotting scam that only diminishes human intelligence.”

“So was romance? I guess you’re into rotting then.”

“Only because you could rot with someone.” She muttered, staring at the game in your hands. The corners of her lips rising when you died, cursing to yourself. “Rot with you.” She added lowly, you almost didn’t catch it but you’re glad you did. You just hope she wouldn’t hear how much you enjoyed it, be still heart.

Feeling bold you pressed a small kiss on her head, leaning your head against hers as you continued playing your game. Later when Wednesday got tired of you mashing those stupid buttons she’d toss the game aside, leaving your full attention on her. Maybe there were more fruitful things you could focus on.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #fluff #Wednesday Addams fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could do like Wednesday x fem yn but like Wednesday trying to tell mortica and gomez she has a gf and not knowing how they'd react and edin trys to help her and in the end they find out somehow you can pick if they take it good or bad but yea

A/n: I’ve seen this get asked to another person but I’m too proud of what I had already written to throw it away.

The crystal ball upon Wednesday’s desk taunted her with the impending call from her parents. Wednesday was something she hadn’t been in a long time; worried. The last time she had spoken with her parents, a lot had changed and one of the most recent and most prominent changes was that she had found herself a girlfriend.

How you met was the typical run of the mill meet cute, Wednesday was caught doing something she wasn’t meant to and she threatened to take your tongue, vocal chords and hands should you ever rat her out. Your response? “You’re beautiful.” Ever since then you had been constantly drawn to the chaos that was Wednesday Addams and not once has the thought of ever letting you go crossed her wicked mind. She was happy, a word she never thought she’d use in a lifetime but truly, for the first time in a long time she was happy. You made the insides of her hollow husk of a human vessel warm.

You lit a match and threw it upon her coal heart, setting it ablaze with the very foundations of life as the fires reflected in her dark eyes. You were her cara mia as she was your mon cher. For you Wednesday would die for you, kill for you, even live for you should you command it of her. It was moments like those that she began to see how alike she was to her father; Unhealthy obsessed with the object of their eternal attraction. So unhealthy in fact the pair might possibly be clinically insane with their love. However not even a highly facilitated psychiatric ward would be able to prevent Wednesday from coming back to you.

For she would have it burnt to the ground in your name as though she were a crazed religious fanatic, pleading her love to the only form of higher power that ever truly existed; You. If she had it her way, you’d both would’ve carved out and calcified your beating hearts for the other, to have and to hold until you were both cold and dead within the ground that would make up your grave. You would now and forever more belong to Wednesday as she would belong to you until the dark forces swelled you both whole; snuffing out your mortal flame for good.

So as Wednesday clamped down on her finger nails, bitting them right down to the nub and then some, Enid couldn’t help but feel concerned for her friend as she stared vehemently at her -seemingly- only form of communication with a look in her eyes. “What’s chomping you at the bit.” Enid asked, begrudging to know the answer but knew that Wednesday was in a situation where a friend was something that she could use right now. “My parents will be calling soon.” Wednesday merely said, not taking her eyes off of the crystal ball as though she was awaiting for it to go off.

“That’s great! Unless your relationship with them is questionable at best then that’s…not great.” Enid trails off when she began to notice that she wasn’t helping in making the situation any better even in the slightest. However the blonde wasn’t one to give up even in the face of adversity, Enid presses onward and upward. “My parents only sent me here to mold me in their image, to forge a carbon copy of themselves out of me by the time inn through with this place,” Enid stayed silent, “I get sent to the same dormitory my mother once resided, I have premonitions like she does.” Wednesday falls silent as her fists clenched in silent anguish.

“However I am not my mother, nor will I ever be like her because unlike her I have a heart to give and I gave it to y/n upon a moonlight night; the same night where the crows dropped dead before us and black dahlias bloomed by our feet.” Enid smiled warmly, remembering the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes when she came back to the dome after her first official date with you down by the greenhouse. It was a dangerous twinkle but a twinkle none the less, Wednesday could’ve told her that you had a sparing match that ended with the tips of your blades poised at the others throat and the werewolf would’ve still somehow find it romantic.

“Now I am seemingly at an impasse with the illogical concerns of how my parents would react to me engaging in romantic circumstances with another girl, despite being well aware of their stances on societal demands.” Wednesday admitted, not use to feeling this vulnerable in front of another person but at this point in their relationship, Wednesday trusted Enid -despite how much of a gossip she could be- a smidge more then she did the rest of the student body that made up Nevermore. So if anything, this was Wednesday’s silent cry for Enid’s help and luckily she wasn’t overly dense to not notice.

“Wednesday,” Enid began as she moved over to stand by her friends’ side, “what your parents think shouldn’t reflect upon your relationship with y/n. You love her and she loves you, so why ruin a perfectly good thing by listening to what you parents think.” She places her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders and made sure that they were meeting eye to eye. “Never, not once, since I’ve came to know you had you given a shit about what others thought of you. So why give a shit now?” Wednesday has to admit, Enid was right. Why should she all of a sudden care when all she’s ever done thus far was deflect other peoples opinion on her. It made no logical sense but she guessed that now that you were in the picture with her; Wednesday worries about her parents perception of you.

Just as Enid was about to continue with her speech, the crystal ball went off and within the clear cut glass could the image of Gomez’ stout figure and Morticia’s taller frame could be seen as though they were actually trapped within the crystal itself. Upon seeing their daughter, Gomez and Morticia sat up straighter and smiled at Wednesday who only stared blankly at them, blinking slowly like a cat does when trying to convey their emotions to their owners. “There’s my little death moth, how’s Nevermore been treating you?” Gomez started as Morticia only took in her daughter’s expressions with a curious furrow in her brow but she didn’t speak upon it. Yet.

“Same as usual, however-“ “however you have found love, with a girl perhaps?” Wednesday straightened at her mother’s words. “How did you-“ “call it a mother’s intuition my dear death blossom.” Morticia’s unnerving voice cut her off as she looked to Gomez who was already looking at her, love sick. “Our daughter has found love Gomez, the ancestors must’ve blessed her already.” Gomez only grasped Morticia’s hand that rested on the chair arm tightly. “That’s amazing ‘tish, our little cope has found her forever mouse to play with until she too becomes a viper, until she becomes an Addams.” Wednesday perks up at this, her parents were indirectly giving you their blessing to marry her, to join your soul with hers as one until the end of your shared days.

Enid, still in the room, was trying her hardest not to squeal in excitement. Sure this event wouldn’t be until later down the line but she hopes she becomes your guys maid of honour.

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic

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makncheese12 · 10 months

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Woe is me

Wednesday Addams x shifter!reader

Summary: Wednesday struggles with her feelings

Warnings: i honestly don’t know, slight angst if you squint, ooc! Wednesday Addams

A/N: the reason I posted so much today is because I probably won’t post much other than a few times so I did a few things last night and finished them up today, I will infact continue to keep updating as much as I can🫶🏻

I’m not really gonna make this into a series but more like HC’s and one-shots cause I really like the whole feel to it and I will be posting a part 3, don’t worry😭 it’s mostly because this whole thing needs a back bone.

You sat on the bench in the quad, your limbs stretched out lazily as she basked in the rare warm sunlight. This was your favorite spot in the school, and you were glad to be able to spend some time here even in your cat form.

Being a black panther was no easy feat, and you had spent many months perfecting your abilities. But sometimes, you just couldn't help but feel helpless, like you were trapped in this form with your own body betraying you.

The way your human body gave out far too quickly from sickness and had to take time to heal was not helping at all either.

You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration at it all. Your fur ruffled as you tried to shift back into your human form, but it seemed that your energy reserves were too low. The transformation process was one that required a lot of concentration, and with your body feeling so depleted, it was almost impossible.

Your eyes began to droop as you drifted off into a small nap, the rhythmic thumping of your — suddenly — tiny heart the only sound you heard. You were almost grateful for the respite, even if it was just for a few moments, as it allowed you to forget about the constant struggle to keep control of your powers.

You didn't know how long you’d been there when suddenly, you felt a loud thud rumple into the ground and your head yanks up on the ready, already being vulnerable in your position.

Noticing it was just a group of werewolves messing around and tackling each other, your small body relaxes, closing your eyes and basking in the sun.

As you continue to rest on the bench, your eyes closed and breathing steady, two gorgon girls begin to approach you, drawn to the adorable cat that appears to be taking a peaceful nap.

"Oh my god, it's so cute!" one of the girls exclaims, pointing at you as she continues to walk towards the bench.

"I know, right?" the other girl replies, her eyes glued to you as well. "Can we pet it? It looks so cuddly!"

Your ears perk up at the sound of their voices, and you open your eyes to see the girls approaching. You suddenly seem to enjoy the attention you’re suddenly getting, tail swaying back and forth as you stand and stretch your back up to prepare yourself for them.

Before you have a chance to protest, one of the girls reaches out and begins to scratch behind your ears and immediately start to purr at the feeling.

As you feels the girls start to pet you, you’re completely relaxes into their touch, loving the feeling of their hands on your fur, and can't help but enjoy the attention they're giving you.

As the first two girls continue to pet you, they're joined by other students, noticing the way the two girls are crouching down by a black fur ball they couldn’t help themselves. Before long, you’re surrounded by a group of people, all of them giving you attention and love.

If they knew you were human, they’d act differently but as of now, you were just a stray cat that occasionally wandered inside their school.

But you don’t seem to mind, in fact, you seem to be eating it up. Your eyes close again, and you can’t help but purr softly, enjoying the feeling of their hands against your fur as they pet and scratch you. You strangely feel safe and comfortable in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of these people.

As the petting zoo group continues to grow, a mixture of amazed students in awe, all drawn to the adorable black cat in the middle of the quad, you can't help but feel a sense of happiness in this moment.

As for Wednesday, she couldn’t stand what she was seeing as she stood there, feeling a strange mixture of emotions wash over her. On one hand, she was feeling a deep sense of protectiveness towards you, a feeling that she had rarely ever experienced before and only reserved for certain people — her family. On the other hand, she found herself feeling a twinge of jealousy, a feeling that she had never been comfortable with or rather no one has.

She had always tried to keep her emotions in check, to maintain a veneer of stoicism and cool detachment that had become second nature to her. But now, as she watched those around her ‘pet’ and coo over it, it was as if a dam inside her had suddenly burst, and all of the feelings that she had been trying to repress were finally starting to come to the surface.

Wednesday knew that she had to do something, to take control of the situation before it escalated out of hand. But she wasn't entirely sure what to do. She knew that she couldn't just let those people keep petting you, but she also didn't want to make a scene and draw attention to herself.

As she stood there, lost in her own thoughts, Enid appeared beside her, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Isn't that the cat that keeps coming to our dorm?" she asked, gesturing towards you, who was still purring and enjoying the attention.

Wednesday's face twisted into a scowl, but before she could respond, she was interrupted by the arrival of more students, all drawn to the adorable black cat. She watched as they continued to pet you, her eyes narrowing as she felt these feelings within her reach boiling point.

In that moment, Wednesday knew that she had to act, to take control of the situation before things got out of hand. She turned to Enid, her voice laced with a sarcasm that she couldn't mask. "Yes, that's the cat," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "And if you don't want to end up on the wrong end of her claws, I suggest you not go and pet her but rather get out of here before things get ugly.”

Enid, unphased by Wednesday's coldness, simply smiled. "Whatever you say, Willa." the blonde says as her eyes travel back to you, on a mission to get through the crowd to pet you herself.

Wednesday rolled her eyes before looking back to you, eyes narrowed as she felt the feelings within her come crashing down around her like a tsunami. She had never been so overwhelmed by her emotions before, and it was a feeling that she didn't know how to handle.

She needed to get away, to get some alone time to process everything that was going on inside her. She turned to Enid, her voice sharp. "I need to be alone right now," she said, her eyes fixed on Enid with a look that she knew would make her not question her and back off.

Without another word, Wednesday turned and stormed off towards her dorm in Ophelia Hall, her boots stomping against the tile as she went. She needed to get away from everyone, to be alone with her thoughts and her feelings.

She knew that she needed to confront the feelings that were eating her up inside, to figure out why they were there and what she was going to do about them. But she also knew that she needed some time to herself before she could even begin to tackle those questions.

As she walked out of the quad, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions, she couldn't shake the feeling that something inside her was starting to change, that the control that she had always had over her emotions was starting to slip away. And that scared her more than anything.

————

You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of Wednesday's silence pressing down on you. You knew that Wednesday was going through something, and you wanted nothing more than to help her, to be there for her. But Wednesday refused to open up to you, she seemed to get like this often so it wasn’t a surprise.

As you watched Wednesday type away on her typewriter with her characteristic focus, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You wanted to be there for Wednesday, to help her through whatever she was going through, but it was clear that Wednesday wasn't ready to share her burdens yet. And that’s was made it all the more frustrating.

So, instead, you decided to sit down next to Wednesday's chair and just be there for her and wait, in case she ever decided to reach out and talk. You let yourself be present, focusing on your breathing to not disturb her and trying to stay calm and patient. Even though you desperate wanted to know what was going on, you knew that forcing Wednesday to talk would only push her away further.

As the minutes turned into hours, Wednesday continued to type away, her nose buried in the paper she was typing as her eyes stayed on the letters and paper. You watched her closely, hoping to pick up on some subtle cue that would reveal her thoughts and feelings, but Wednesday's expression remained focused, revealing nothing of what was happening inside her head. Only fueling your concern and frustration. Wednesday always had a blank expression you couldn’t read so it didn’t exactly help.

It wasn't until late at night that Wednesday finally seemed to stop, taking a deep breath and sitting up in a straighter position. You felt a flutter of hope in your heart, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Wednesday was finally ready to share what was on her mind.

But instead of saying anything, Wednesday merely cleaned up her surroundings and put her written pages away, stretching and standing up from her chair. "I'm going to bed," she said, her voice neutral.

You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn't want to push it. You knew that Wednesday would talk when she was ready, and you weren’t about to pressure her into opening up before she was ready.

So, instead, you simply nodded, your eyes following Wednesday as she stood up from her chair and made her way to her closet to get ready for bed. You watched as Wednesday closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the dorm.

You let out a sigh before getting up and leaving the dorm, perhaps you would be more lucky tomorrow.

————

As you lay asleep in your dorm, there was a sudden sense of unease that settled into her before something pinches your arm gently. You snapped awake with a start, startled to see Wednesday standing over you, her eyes blank as usual.

You lay there, staring up at Wednesday, trying to make sense of what was going on. "Wednesday," you say quietly, your heart racing. "What are you doing here?"

Wednesday didn't respond, just stand there, staring down at you. After what felt like really long moments, Wednesday spoke, her voice low and slightly trembling, something most wouldn’t notice but you were quick to hear it being so used to Wednesday cold and harsh tone.

"I'm confused," she said, her words come out quick as she continues to stare down at you. "I don't understand what I'm feeling."

You felt a pang of concern in your chest, seeing the frustration and confusion on Wednesday's face. "What do you mean?" You ask, keeping your voice gentle.

Wednesday struggled for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "It's you," she said finally. "It's the way you make me feel."

You felt a shock of something she couldn’t explain as she sat up, realizing that Wednesday was talking about the feelings she had for you, in a way? But Wednesday continued before you could say anything.

"I don't understand what this is," she said, her voice still low. "I don't understand these feelings. I don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to handle them."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Wednesday open up to you.

You had never seen Wednesday like this before, struggling with her emotions, unsure of what to do for once. It was clear that she had been internalising these feelings for a long time, and now, they were all coming out in a rush.

"It's okay," you tell her softly, reaching out to take her hand. "It's okay to be confused. It's okay to not understand what you're feeling."

Wednesday looked at you, her expression still blank, as if she couldn't quite believe what you were saying. She didn’t understand it after all.

You felt a twinge of sadness at Wednesday's reaction, but you didn't let it show. So you continue to hold Wednesday's hand, hoping to offer her some comfort and support.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, voice gentle.

Wednesday hesitated, and then finally, she nodded, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what's happening," she said, her voice now full on trembling. "I don't know why I feel like this."

You feel your heart ache, seeing the turmoil and confusion on Wednesday's face. You didn’t know how to explain it to her, how to tell her that these emotions were normal and why she was feeling them, this was perhaps a parents job. You didn't have all the answers, but you knew that you could be there for Wednesday, could offer her a listening ear and a supportive shoulder to lean on.

"It's okay," you say again, voice still soft. "It's okay to feel things that you don't understand. It's okay to be confused."

Wednesday let out a deep sigh, and you could see the tension leave her body just a little bit. She was still confused, still struggling to make sense of her feelings, but at least now she knew that she had someone in her corner, someone who cared about her and was willing to be there for her, no matter what.

You knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, that this was a moment that you’d both remember for a long time to come. As you sit there, holding Wednesday's hand, you couldn’t help but smile up at her. Fangs slightly bearing as you rub your thumb gently over her palm.

And then, without warning, Wednesday leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, the kiss soft and gentle. It was a moment that you always had been hoping for, but never quite expecting, as Wednesday had never initiated a kiss before, leaving you to do all the work for her.

You felt a thrill of excitement and wonder wash over you as your lips met, your lips pressed together in a moment of rare and private affection. It was a moment that you would never forget, a moment that would forever be etched in your memory.

As the kiss came to an end you broke away, your heart racing and your mind reeling with the emotions of the moment. You looked up at Wednesday, your eyes bright with gratitude and love.

Wednesday let out a small sigh as you pulled her into bed, a small hint of annoyance lingering on her face. As you laid her down, her crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from you, acting as if she didn't want to be there.

"You should really get some sleep," you say softly, putting an arm over the smaller girls stomach that sends spiders crawling all through out her stomach.

Wednesday let out another small sigh, but this time it sounded less annoyed and more resigned. She tilted her head to the side, leaning into your embrace.

"Fine," Wednesday said, her voice softer than usual. "But I'm still not happy about it."

You chuckled softly. “When are you ever?” You tease only to earn a glare that disappeared quickly as rubbing your macabre girlfriends stomach in a gentle motion. "You don't have to be happy. Just get some rest."

Wednesday closed her eyes, sinking further into your embrace. After a few moments, she took a deep her body relaxing into the bed. You knew there was more than she was letting on but that could wait until the morning, you were just glad she opened up just a little.

A/N: please tell me if you see any mistakes or things that should be worked on!

Tagslist: @raven-ss @devarajah @natashasapphic @pamoresworld @canyonyodeler @paladinncleric @2silverchain

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday series #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x female reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Jenna Ortega fanfic #Wednesday Addams fanfic

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

Note

Hey love I seen your request opened and I was wondering could I request a wenclair x reader where the reader is welcome into their relationship romantically and unfortunately the get hurt by one of the students at nevermore and they are being overprotective I really just wants some fluff and a small bit of Wednesday and enid getting mad if you don’t mind please have a great day and don’t forget to drink some water❤️❤️❤️

Oh could you tag me also when you make it thx💛

dove

wenclair x harpy!reader (poly)

warnings: gender neutral terms for reader, bullying, physical assault, (do not read if theme is triggering)

a/n: I hope this is to your liking lovie<3 @hadespleasesteponmyneck

°°°

There were many times you'd lay awake wishing you were different, a more subtle species. It wasn't a surprise normies had treated you badly since you were a kid, most outcasts can pretend to be normies to fit in.

But you could be spotted even in a mile away as an outcast with your big flappy wings attached to your arms, and your long talon nails.

You thanked god daily he hadn't gave you a beak at this point.

Arriving at Nevermore gave you bigger hopes then any other schools has before, a chance to finally fit in, to have friends amongst people who understood what it was like to be different.

What you didn't expect was to be made a joke for being an outcast, amongst outcasts.

It wasn't all bad, you'd tell yourself daily.

You were warmly welcomed by the infamous Enid Sinclair and her not so welcoming girlfriend,

You avoided them at first, keeping to yourself and the comfort of the library most of your time. Your roommate Yoko is rarely in your shared dorm, often sleeping in her girlfriend's dorm instead.

But Enid had took matters in her own hands, refusing to let you be alone. As much as you pretend not to care much about it, you were grateful for her and Wednesday. It was the first time you felt wanted.

"So, [name.]" Enid starts, waking by your side with her arm linked with yours. "Have you decided who your date to the Rave'n will be?" She asks, wiggling her brows at you.

You feel your face turns red before shaking your head. "Decide? I'll be lucky if someone even asks me."

Her grin slowly drops at your word and you see her turn her head at Wednesday. The two having an unspoken conversation with eachother.

You raise your eyebrows at them in question and Enid turns back to you. "Maybe you should go with us!" She suggests.

You turn silent in suprise. "Oh? oh-I mean I couldn't-"

"[Name], if you're worried you'd be third wheeling, I assure you that it won't be happening, our affections with eachother are as equal as is to you-" Enid curses and glares at her girlfriend, throwing both hands up in frustration.

"Wha- I- I'm not following.." You look at them in confusion before Enid sighs loudly.

"I thought you said we can tell them together!" She scolds Wednesday, who only shrugs. "Both of you were taking too long."

"Tell me what?" You ask again, this time finally getting their attention.

They turn to you and Enid takes a deep breath before she attempts to speak, being cut off by Wednesday again.

"We would like to invite you into our romantic relationship -"

"Jesus Wednesday-" "You take too long-"

"Invite you to our rela- What is this an interview?"

"Oh you'd rather I ask for their Snapchat then like you did to me-"

You take in her words as they argue.

"You want to be with me?" You try, your voice slowing down their banter as they both look back at you and Enid replies before anyone can interrupt her again. "Yes. Yes we do."

Why? was the first thing that came to mind.

Not realizing you've spoken the question out loud, You were met with a frown from the blond.

"What do you mean why? Because you're amazing, [name]. Look- You seriously can't tell that we've been pulling our asses off to get you to notice us?"

Wednesday snorts and interjects, "You've been pulling your ass off, I've already had their attention-" "Wednesday." Enid sighs, earning a rare smirk from the raven haired.

Your mind was swirling with all this new information. Unable to give any answer, you simply run away without looking back, hearing Enid call after you.

°°°

Your room was no longer your own. And it was a big discomfort to find your space intruded by not even your roommate, but someone who didn't even belong in your dorm.

"What the hell are you doing with my stuff?!" Your eyes widen at the sight of your small nest of blankets all over the room.

"Proving everyone that you're a freak.", There were three of them, and by their looks you knew they were fairies.

And despite harpies often being described as mythical monsters, it's the pointy eared creatures that have devils in them.

"Look at this shit, what is this, your nest? I told you, They're basically just a giant bird-"

"I'm not-"

Your trinkets and rock collection's were being thrown and smashed on walls. You scream and shove the red haired girl againts the wall, your talons scratching through her arms.

"You bird bitch." She snapped bitterly.

"They used their claws on me! Did you guys see that? You guys saw that right?" They all agreed againts you

She was stronger than you thought, or perhaps you weren't as strong as you wanted to be. She pushed you back and your back fell on the floor. Her two friends gripped your hands and held you from moving, you wings flapping againts the floor.

You struggle to against them as the red haired punched you in the face. It was a weak blow but a punch nonetheless .

"You're nothing but a monster, thorough, and thorough." She seethes at your face.

"Not so scary now though are you?"

°°°

The sounds of knocking on your door was muffled by your pillow againts your face.

When the banging fists became louder you pull away and manage to shout at the uninvited visitor to leave you alone.

Silence swallowed your room once more.

Burying your face back in the pillow, you continue your hour long breakdown.

You don't hear the door open at first, but when Enid's fast footsteps reach closer, you flinch and pull back to look behind you.

You couldn't tell what emotions coated their expressions, but what you did know that you're more embarrassed than upset now.

It was bad enough that everyone saw you as a freak, you didn't want the only two people you liked to see you like this.

You had no chance to come up with a story as Wednesday crosses the gap between the tow of you, her hands instantly holding up your face to her, eyes inspection the bruise.

"Who did this to you." She demanded. Her monotonous voice laced with a subtle but noticable anger.

You shook your head and started crying again before you could help it.

Enid wordlessly pulled you in her chest.

You were taken aback by the comfort of her warmth, you can't remember the last time you were held by anyone.

Still sobbing in her arms, Wednesday pulled your chin towards her and asked again, "I need names, dove."

"I-she didn't tell me-" Enid interjects your stuttering. "It's that fairy girl, Aliyah." You looked at her confused.

"It's the wolf scent thing, this room reeks of her fake dior." She explains,

Wednesday wordlessly walks to the door and Enid's arms release you as she runs to her.

"Wednesday no. We need to tell Weems about this, nothing more-"

"Nothing more? She assaulted [name]. You think whatever lame punishment Weems give them will make them stop? No. The stupid elf and whoever involved needs to know this will be the last time they even look at them."

Enid stared at her, mouth agape and then sighed.

"Fairy, not elf." She mumbled and shakes her head.

"Imbecile, is the right term. I won't have either of you in trouble with me. So you stay here and be there for them in ways I can't. I'll handle that wretched mushroom eater." Was the last words she speaks before slamming the door on Enid's face.

Enid groans and looks back at you, confused and sniffing. "She's not going to...kill her, is she?" You asks worriedly.

She walks towards you and crawls in the bed to your side, pulling you back to her. "She's not a murderer, but I can't say she doesn't have a penchant for inflicting pain."

#wenid #wenclair fanfic #wenclair x reader #wenclair x you #wenclair #wednesday netflix #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader

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i984 · 1 year

Text

Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade | Part 1

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, mentions of gore, Wednesday being uncharacteristically tame, reader likes to test boundaries, Wednesday gives bone-breaking hugs, no beta; we die like my brain cells.

|Summary|: You test your luck by putting Wednesday Addams in a compliment jail.

|Word count|: 2.7k words

|A/n|: I ended up not changing a thing. I took some liberty with your request 💡anon, hope you still enjoy it! | Part 2 is available in my masterlist.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Love

It does wonders for a person.

And for you? Well, it makes you spew the utmost revolting, foolish, and absurd things out of your mouth—Wednesday's words, not yours. You think it's her way of saying she likes the compliments you practically shower her with.

At first, you didn't even realize you were doing it. You could be sitting next to the raven-haired girl in class, having some lunch together, reading books in the library, or on your occasional walks around town, and you only have one single recurring thought that you can't seem to get out of your mind;

Wednesday Addams—your precious sadistic little girlfriend—is so pretty.

And not to be shallow or anything; after all, you like her for many different things. Her intelligence, wittiness, and her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Her obsession with everything macabre, the monochromic-colored outfits that perfectly suit her, and the way she uses words you can't even begin to comprehend half the time.

But then there's the way her hair has that lustrous glow, and then the rare grin she cracks when it's just the two of you, the constant little pout in her lips, and don't even start about her plump dark burgundy lips; Oh, you wanna kiss her-

"-so bad," you mumbled out absent-mindedly, and Wednesday slowly looked up from her double cap—mouth gaping slightly at the suddenness of your words—her eyes blinking rapidly at you.

"Oh- no no no I was just thinking and I got distracted because your lips look SO pretty!" Your voice was louder than you had intended for it to be, and you quickly covered your mouth—a pointless act as the slip-up had already been done.

Wednesday only spared you a sharp glare before standing up from your shared sofa booth, already heading towards the Cafe entrance. Before you can even explain yourself, she had already bolted out, leaving you and her double cap behind.

You know that Wednesday is not big on PDAs; soft kisses and gentle touches are reserved for private quarters. And even then, you can tell that her moves are calculated—afraid of doing too much that she'd find herself in a compromising position.

But you didn't miss the darkening of her freckle-painted cheeks as she snuck a peek at your figure from outside Weathervane, and that's when you realized;

Oh.

Well, this is gonna be fun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk to your dorm room with a dopey grin on your face, recounting the things that happened earlier.

You've figured it all out. Wednesday might act like she isn't affected by other people's words and opinions about her—and in most cases, this is true—except when it comes from you.

She caught you wearing a hoodie of hers? Now you have three more in your closet. You respond a beat late to some disputable thing she mentions? She immediately apologized for being insensitive and asked your take on the subject. You told her that she looked good in that checkered sweater? Now she wears the piece of garment all the time. Ask her to binge-watch all 10 seasons of My Little Pony with you? It would give her nightmares for weeks, yes, but absolutely.

You quickly realize that you're one of the few people lucky enough to have Wednesday tolerate you to a certain degree. So you do the obvious—run after Wednesday after leaving some money on the table, and then shout at the top of your lungs, "I LIKE YOUR LIPS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS"

You swear to God, you've never seen someone bolt out of your view so quickly. She didn't even spare a single disapproving glance at you—on normal occasions she would—but now, as people stop in their tracks to see who your words are pointed to, she's gone, nowhere to be seen.

It's cute, how much she's affected by your words. And that's why, as you open your dorm room door, you walk straight to your thinking desk past a figure, planning to come up with new ways to fluster your girlfriend.

Wait. Past a figure?

You turn your head to see Wednesday Addams standing still, looking daggers at you, and you know things are about to go down.

You smile coyly at her while taking a seat. The raven-haired girl's gaze trails your every movement. She looks almost predatory in this state. Like she's about to tear you apart to shreds.

You hold your head high as you speak, "Is something wrong, Wens?" A pet name. You've heard Wednesday made it clear time and time again to Enid that she was against pet names. And you've never called her one before. But you're willing to gamble your life this time just to see how far she would tolerate you.

So you maintain your perfect facade, and it was all worth it as you see Wednesday's eyes widen at the morbidity of your words—the good kind, you'd assume—and you saw her mouth open and close a couple of times, trying to say something deprecating and failing acutely.

She stands awkwardly like that for a moment; her hands making little gestures as if she was trying to make a point while maintaining her look of utter disbelief at your behavior.

You figured if you didn't egg on her a little more, she wouldn't let her guard down, so you decided to turn your back on her and pulled out a book to read.

"What are you doing?" You can hear the stress in her words. You can picture her look right now; her jaw clenched, teeth gritted, brows furrowed in dismay.

"I'm reading a book, as you can see with those pretty brown eyes of yours." You flipped a few pages, eyes tracing along the shape of letters and words, not really paying any mind to the actual content.

"All right then," exasperation is evident in her voice, and you have to fight yourself from snickering at the situation.

You've always been very careful around Wednesday, trying not to agitate her into giving you snarky comments—she still gives them nonetheless, and you find it amusing as time goes by—but curiously, she's not giving you any at the moment. And if you are to guess, it's probably because she physically can't bash you for your words. Not when she's fighting for her life with feelings she refuses to acknowledge most of the time.

You hear her footsteps grow distant—she's heading for the door, you figured—and you don't even bother to look up as you say, "Come back soon, tesoro,"

The sound of footsteps ceased.

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" You can tell by Wednesday's voice that she is trying so hard not to burst at your display—you were never like this after all—from rage or the compliments, you don't know. But you figure you'll find out if you pick the right words.

"Keep doing what, Wens?" You spin in your chair to her, your voice dripping with honey, with faux innocence. You can see her face turn colors into one of carnation, her lips thinning into a line as she tears her gaze apart from you.

"You. Know. What." Wednesday strains every word, her tone is low as if to intimidate you, but you know the ball is in your court.

"What? Telling you how pretty your lips are? In front of a lot of people?

"Yes, exactly-"

"And that I wanna kiss those lips of yours so badly? Dark plump lips like yours are my favorite, by the way," you look at her in the eyes as you speak, and you let your gaze trail down her face, and Wednesday fidgets with the hem of her top.

"Oh wait, actually, you are my favorite."

Wednesday glares at you—an act that usually works with Enid and everyone else when she wants to avoid certain conversations—but you are unfazed. You have her exactly where you want right now, and judging by the absence of a knife in her hand, you're going to assume that she's more than okay with what you're doing.

"But wait. Oh. Is this about the fact that I know you blushed so hard when I complimented you? Every single time, did you notice that?" You stood up from your seat, throwing the book atop your desk.

"I know you like it, Wens," you smirked, the nickname easily sliding out your tongue the more you said it, "I know you like me."

"Oh, you are so full of yourself-"

"You know what else I like? The way your pout grows bigger—as we're speaking right now, yes," and you see her face growing a scowl as you take a step closer towards her, "and now you're clenching your jaw slightly, god, you look so cute doing that."

"I do not look cute, and if you cut my words off-"

"Do you know that your micro facial expressions are probably the most adorable thing I ever get to witness?"

"-again, I will cut your tongue and force-feed it to you."

You ignore your girlfriend's words, continuing the torture you've devised for her. "No, not probably. Definitely the most adorable thing ever."

A broad grin sprouted on your face, the one Wednesday always calls 'the idiotic grin' but you know she secretly likes it, and you can't be happier right now. You're experiencing a power trip; adrenaline rushing through you to continue your teasing despite the possibility of being mute in the future.

"And that? Right there. Just now. The way you just announce dangerous threats? And sometimes about people's demise? Now, that is attractive."

Wednesday decided that she's had enough of your antics. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, and you trail after her out of your dormitory.

"Do not follow me," Wednesday hushed, and you walk beside her trying to catch up as she seems to speed up her pace.

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be walking in the same direction- Oh, hi Bianca!" You see the girl waving back at you as you both walk through the quad; Wednesday did not acknowledge Bianca's presence as usual.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Remember when you totally beat the shit out of Bianca in that oral test last week? That is also incredibly attractive."

Wednesday seemed to pay no mind as you continued your horrible strings of compliments, except for the fact that she's practically running through the corridors right now, embarrassed of being caught blushing by any of her peers.

You know that at this point, you're threading a thin line between her turning into putty at your words or her leading you to a grave site, ready to smash your head with a rock once you get there.

Well, she's heading towards Ophelia Hall now, so it's safe to say you won't be visiting the realms of the dead today.

"It would be wise for you to quit whatever skulduggery you're doing if you don't want me to slice your head off at fencing class-,"

You raise your hand in mock defeat at her words, and you can see Wednesday's knuckles turn white in a fist as she continued her words, "-which will start in a couple of hours. So, leave me-"

"Oh yeah, that got me thinking of how good you look when fencing. I mean, there's a reason why I never ever spar with you during class."

"Yes, and it is your remarkable ineptitude in the sport."

You shoot her a look of false hurt at her words, "How dare you- Well. I mean yes, but also have you seen yourself?" You speak out of breath, your legs slowly catching up with Wednesday's pace.

"Yes, of course. I've been staring at a mirror in the middle of my sparring," Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, "and that's why I've been on a losing-" at this, you can see Wednesday practically seethe in anger as she chokes the word out, "-streak against Bianca Barclay."

"No, silly, it's because I would be in complete awe," you decided not to comment further on the sore issue, opting to clear out the tension with—yes you guessed it—more compliments.

"I mean, the all-black outfit? Your menacing strikes and your calculated steps, not to mention your disheveled hair and the concentrated look on your face?" You clasp your hand in front of your chest, eyes looking up dreamily at the memory, while the girl beside you scoffed in irritation.

You're now at Ophelia Hall, and Wednesday continues her brisk walk toward her shared dorm room. You don't have much time left if you want to break her composed demeanor.

"And yes, if I sparred with you, the exact situation you mentioned earlier would've happened. My head sliced off the very first second into the spar."

"And I'd assume you wouldn't want that. So don't make me do it."

"Quite the contrary, I wouldn't mind. I bet dying by such skillful hands would be an amazing experience."

You can see the door now. Wednesday knows this as well. If she gets inside and locks you out, maybe you'll shut up and spare her from the torture that makes her gut feel like it's ripping her apart from the inside.

"What do you think of adding my head as a mount on your room's wall? I'm sure Thing would appreciate the addition of another dismembered body part in the room."

If Wednesday wasn't agitated before, she definitely is now. As she opens the door to her dorm room and turns her body to you, you can see that not only are her cheeks of blossoming color, the tips of her nose and ears are as well! It's as if this is the first time blood has rushed to her face, and you'd argue that she looks dangerously magnificent like this; face sneering but eyes unable to maintain eye contact with you.

She spared you only a short pointed glare, before closing the door to your face. You can hear her voice ring moments later, "Stop pestering me on my writing time or I will take you up on that offer. If you decide to omit my warning, make sure you say something adequate, as I will personally make sure it will be written on your gravestone as your last words."

Her threats have never felt so empty, not with her obviously shaky voice—not when you know she's staring at her typing paper blankly right now, unable to type a single word as you can't hear any clacking sound of the machine's keys.

The gears in your mind turn at an insane speed, and with the bravado only you possess, you belt your next words for the whole dormitory to hear,

"I AM CRAZY FOR YOU, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!"

There was only silence. Then, you hear the rapid clickety-clack of your girlfriend's shoes, and you jump backward when Wednesday yanked the door open.

This is it, you thought.

You had been too cocky, thinking that you could get away with harassing the raven-haired girl—if compliments can be considered harassment, that is—and now you're going to pay the price. In the most gruesome way imaginable, if you know anything about your girlfriend.

Wednesday storms at you, and before you can even try to escape, you feel her arms wrapped strongly around your figure in a death grip. She's about to tackle you to death, and you brace yourself for the upcoming impact-

-that never comes? Her arms just stay there, her head buried against your chest, and you are at a loss for words.

It's unfair, how easily she makes you feel flustered. You've been trying to get a reaction out of her all this time, and she barely cracks. But now as she hugs you, you practically melt into her embrace; your mischievous agenda is long forgotten.

When you regain your senses, you take a breath— about to comment on the situation before she cuts you off with a;

"Shut up. I hate you."

You smirk at her words before sighing in contentment, eyes closing as you soak in the rare moment, "I love you too."

"But I will never shut up about this- OW-"

Wednesday left you rolling on the floor in pain after landing a punch in your guts.

"Now, you will."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams

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may-fanfic · 1 year

Text

Safe With You

summary: Wednesday keeps having nightmares of you dying after what happened to Eugene. She comes to you one night after a particularly bad nightmare and you’re there to comfort her.

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 1,002

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕))

_________________

After Eugene's unfortunate incident, it seemed to leave a mark on Wednesday. Nearly every night, the girl would wake up in a cold sweat, gasping frantically for air, looking around the dark room desperately. The nightmares were always the same and ended the same. No matter what she did differently in the dreams, it'll always result in your demise, and each night, it would paralyze her with dread.

The nightmares forced her to witness you die over and over. She began to loathe the night, almost afraid of falling asleep. She could not stomach the thought of something happening to you, but the dreams were always in great detail. Wednesday feared it wasn't dreams but instead visions that came to her in a different form. Perhaps, it might be fate; she'd do anything to prevent that from happening.

Wednesday rose from her bed; her trembling feet met the cold wooden floor. She needed to see you for herself to ensure that you were well. She knew she could not return to bed without easing her pounding heart. "Wednesday?" a voice called out; the flick of the light made Wednesday squint; Enid looked concerned at the state of her roommate. "Go back to sleep, Enid." her voice was dry, and her throat burned; wiping her hairline, she brushed away the droplets of sweat.

"Are you okay? You're shaking," Enid asked with concern. Enid could see the faint tears that clouded Wednesday's eyes.

"I'm fine." She avoided her worried eyes. "Go to sleep." with that, Wednesday left her dorm, she knew she could get caught sneaking around the campus, but that had been the least of her concern. She didn't want to talk to anyone about her nightmares, especially not Enid. She knew Enid would be overbearing and want to shower her in love, Enid had a good heart, but there wasn't anyone else she wanted right now but you.

When she softly knocked on the door, her heart dropped at the lack of movement in the dorm until Yoko pulled the door open, eyeing her with confusion written on her expression. "Wednesday, it's 3 in the-"

"Enid is having a crisis." Yoko's eyes went wide, and she nodded quickly and pushed her way out the door. Once Yoko was out of sight, the girl stepped into the room, her eyes immediately finding your sleeping form. A sigh of relief left her lips as she made her way over. You looked peaceful enough, eyes fluttered closed and lips slightly parted. She hated to disturb you, but a small piece of her wanted nothing more. She called your name softly, a single finger sticking out to gently poke your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open suddenly; a soft yelp slipped past your lips; she took a quick step back at your response. "Wednesday?" you croaked out, squinting your eyes at her. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." You let out a gentle breath, leaning back into your bed.

"Sorry..." she trailed off, feeling guilty for interrupting you.

"It's alright," you replied, letting out a yawn. "What happened?" Wednesday took the opportunity to sit on the edge of your bed; she wasn't sure how to approach the topic. Wednesday flinched slightly when a soft hand found her back before easing into your touch.

"You're going to die." Her words seemed so sincere and broke as if god came down and told her himself of your destiny. A soft laugh slipped past your lips, but then she let out a soft sniffle, and all you felt was concern for your girlfriend.

"Wednesday... Where did you get that from?" You asked quietly, your hand softly rubbing circles into her back. Wednesday was tense, afraid that a single touch from you would have her head thrown back with a vision, and it would confirm just what she feared, but as you touched her, nothing happened.

"I dream it; every night." She felt some relief finally getting it off her chest. You sat up suddenly, your hand still pressed against her back; your movement caused the girl to glance over her shoulder, finding you sat on your knees beside her. Your hand found her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Wednesday, It's nightmares. What happened to Eugene scared all of us." She let her shoulders drop, a soft sigh escaped her lips, leaning into you slightly. "But I'm going to be okay." You reassured, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against her neck. She could shiver at the sensation, letting her tired eyes fall closed. "And so will Eugene." You mumbled into her neck, causing Wednesday to nod.

"I know it's scary, but I'm right here." Wednesday shifted until she got a clear look at you; her soft hand reached up and found your cheek, her thumb caressing softly on your cheekbone. She wanted to feel you, make sure this hadn't just been another nightmare.

"If you have another one, you come here, okay?" She nodded, tugging you lightly until she could press the softest kiss to your lips. You always had a way of relaxing her; she felt safe with you and trusted you entirely.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" You spoke in a hushed tone; your forehead leaned against hers; there was a slight panic at the thought of having to relive such things, but there was some comfort knowing you'd be there, so she nodded.

You smiled lightly, leaning back into your bed and opening your arms for Wednesday. She eyed you lightly and felt frozen in her place. You could see the hesitation in her eyes before she sighed and settled into your bed, letting herself snuggle into your chest. Her arm looped around your waist, eyes fluttered close. "This is pleasant." She spoke softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. You hummed back in agreement, pressing a warm kiss to her hairline.

For the first time in a week, Wednesday felt eased, and only then did she sleep peacefully.

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #wednesday series #wednesday addams x reader #netflix wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #wednesday imagine

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

OBLIVION

[Pairing]: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

[Summary]: Everyone has vices, some more than others. Wednesday has quite a few: her morbid curiosity, her vindictive or cruel demeanor, and most recently—finding any reason to kiss you.

[Warnings]: Soft Angst. Friends with Benefits. Wednesday being bad at emotions™️. Mistletoe trope.

[Note]: Tis the season!

Library Blog || AO3

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Don't you want to follow your ludicrous traditions?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken in your chest. Only shallow breaths were made from your lungs as they passed through your parted lips. You wanted to screw your eyes shut, but you forced them to remain open.

If you closed them, Wednesday would only lurch forward like a starved animal.

"Not with you," your jaw clenched, tension stiffening your body like you had gone through rigor mortis.

Wednesday didn't seem to mind your biting words or tone as she leaned closer. You felt like a wounded fawn as you were trapped between the wall and Wednesday's body, and her arms trapped you on either side of you.

You could smell everything that was Wednesday Addams, an invasion you were helpless to resist. The scent of old books and rain hits you like a relapse that makes you want to crumble to your knees.

And Wednesday knows it.

"Then you wouldn't have been so stupid to be caught under the mistletoe with me."

Wednesday's words are always vindictive, even if her tone is not. They ring in your ear because as desperate as you were to not understand her, you did. She's angry with you, but—she craves you.

But the thing about Wednesday Addams is that she's a stranger to all these feelings. She hates every part of feeling them, and she hates you for making her experience it. In her endeavor to not be like her mother, you're the pages she's torn out of her book.

And you just can't be that—you can't. Not for Wednesday.

Not when—

"You're the one who said this was ill-advised," you reminded Wednesday. "When I asked you to go to the Yule Fest, you're the one who said no."

"Because I don't want to go to some repulsive, colorful festival," Wednesday raised her brow at you.

"But you want to kiss me under the mistletoe?"

Wednesday's jaw clenched—the way it did whenever she was forced to acknowledge her feelings for you. God, you were annoying.

"I'm done with the no-string-attached kisses," you shake your head at Wednesday. "Unless you're going to agree to go on a date with me, I'll refrain from participating in this tradition with you."

"It's bad luck to forgo tradition," Wednesday rebutted without missing a beat.

You scoffed. "You always have an excuse, don't you?"

"It can't be helped that my synapses are superior."

"Wednesday—"

"Fine, I'll go to the nauseating Yule Fest with you."

Your mouth snapped shut, and you eyed Wednesday's impassive face with suspicion.

"Really?"

"What? You think I'm a liar?"

You rolled your eyes. "I think you'll come up with any reason for us to kiss."

"I wouldn't have to if you would cease from coming up with any reason for us not to."

You then wondered why you liked Wednesday so much as you stared at her expressionless face. She was so—

You huffed and admitted, "I hate the way you pick and choose when you want me."

"I always want you."

And it was the first time Wednesday had ever admitted something within that realm of feelings.

"You think I'm always trying to come up with excuses to kiss you," Wednesday's jaw clenched, and you felt her fists next to your arms close into tight balls. "But because you're just as obstinate as me, I'm also trying to come up with reasons why you shouldn't stop kissing me."

Fuck, you cursed, swallowing the lump in your throat. Vices were a dangerous, dangerous thing, and this was going to be your worst relapse yet.

And just like that, you lifted your hands to pull Wednesday closer. One hand slid against her jaw before cupping the back of her neck while the other gripped her shirt desperately.

The kiss was bruising—the kind Wednesday liked.

Soft.

And warm.

You were always a little surprised, no matter how many times you kissed Wednesday, how soft and warm her lips were.

The way Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her, always made you feel like you were one step away from oblivion.

That was probably her plan every time.

"Why are you like this?" You mumbled between kisses.

"Wednesday is full of woe," Wednesday muttered before she pressed her lips against you insistently.

It was devastating how she constantly found herself reluctantly eating the words she told her mother the first day she arrived at Nevermore.

"Don't I know it," you replied, and Wednesday pulled back for just a moment to see your face as you said it. The way your eyes glistened with mischief and your playful smirk had her consuming your lips again.

Wednesday's not sure whose idea it was to kiss under poisonous berries, but it was quite romantic.

When the two of you decide you've made out under the mistletoe long enough (not because it was enough, but Wednesday was sure she heard a door opening upstairs), you grinned lightly at her.

"We should wear the matching snoods Enid made us at the Yule Fest."

"Don't push it."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #mm: my fics

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kseung · 5 months

Text

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Harm

Requested.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, vague descriptions of wounds.

Words: 1226~

Back after a long time. 10 months hiatus, and now I am done with school for a bit.

Waking up next to Wednesday was like a blessing to you. She looked peaceful while asleep. Regrettably, she had to get ready for either school or personal shenanigans, as did you. That was precisely what made you anxious, daily, since the moment she opened her eyes. For being so perceptive, it was a miracle she hadn't found out about your scars yet. You weren't sure you wanted her to. She'd probably say something along the lines of "Delightful scarring of the tissue. I wonder how it'd look fresh." But, being your girlfriend, maybe she'd say something more akin to "Despite appreciating scars, I'd rather your skin be conserved pristine." It could go either way, really. You wanted to sigh, but you held it in. If you stared any longer, she'd wake up. You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment with your girlfriend. But it was too late, and Wednesday was wide awake. —Morning. It was said with a rather monotonous voice, which scared you a little. Typical Wednesday shenanigans. It was so suddenly said that you were startled. You opened your eyes to look at Wednesday. —Morning, Wednesday. You smiled before getting up. Cuddling wasn't a thing between you, and you were quite fine with that. Lying next to her was, admittedly, a big step for you—much like it was for her. Wednesday was staying at yours this time, so you only needed to go pick your clothes. It was nice, having that privacy. You'd hate for her to find out that way. Or any way, to be honest. She noticed you were being weird, of course. Or well, weirder than usual. She couldn't not see it. Yet, she said nothing. She thought that letting things play out may lead to interesting results. ¤¤¤¤¤ The morning continued as usual, uneventfully strange. But strange was usual at a place full of outcasts. You sighed, rolling your sleeves back down for the nth time that class. Wednesday noticed that too, of course. There's not much she doesn't see. But, as Wednesday herself, she's not one to talk about her observations so openly. Some time later, when it was time for another class, she quietly observed. You were there, yes, but you weren't there. And she thought that the pensive look of your eyes, melancholic and solitary only made you look ethereal. —Nails for your thoughts? —I'd rather much receive a penny. She was not a fan of that response, but she let it slide. It was you after all... She bit back her tongue. —Tell me what's going on. She had that way of speaking, truly Wednesday. It made you chuckle, resting a cheek on a propped up hand. She stood there with a straightened back, looking at you intensely. —Not much, Wednesday. It's more like I'm not thinking of anything. Well, she couldn't really understand that. There was always something to be thinking of, to be aware of. She gave you a look, a knowing, distrustful look.

—I won't pry for more. But just you know, I'm not that gullible. She gave a half turn, walking away as she does, dramatic end to the scene. It was nerve-wracking. But you had it in mind to keep the scars unnoticeable. You were far more careful for the rest of the day, keeping yourself from moving all that much. You knew she'd be observing you, preying on you like a vulture does a carcass. Exactly because of that, you kept yourself even more static than usual. She seemed busy with Enid... or well, it looked like she was being kept there as an unwilling participant in their conversation. It was just the perfect opportunity to slip away and back to your room. You sighed, locking the door behind you. Having alone time was the best thing that could happen. You took off the suit jacket Nevermore had given you, and then the hoodie, and then you were standing there with a short-sleeved shirt. You weren't really used to being like that —uncovered—, in fear that anyone would know just how bad your mental health had been. But just this time... You lied back down on the bed, covering yourself. You were tired after all... homework was for later. ¤¤¤¤¤ She was just outside your room, feet directly in front of the door. She had lock-picked it minutes ago, but she hadn't entered. It seemed both wrong and right, but it's not like her moral compass was up to date. She slowly opened the door, making sure it wouldn't creak much. Her steps were light, just like the sound of your slow breathing. You were there, she could see, covered in sheets and sleeping peacefully. So that's what you were doing, taking an afternoon nap. You stirred, feeling eyes on you. You pushed yourself up, the cold air caressing your skin like a suffocating blanket. It took some time to be able to open your eyes, the curtains not being too good at blacking out the tired sun.

—Wednesday?—, you asked. Your voice was warm, unfiltered with bits of seeping sleep. —What are you doing here? She kept quiet, taking in everything she could from all the senses she had. You looked good, sounded good, and she was sure you'd feel even better. The thoughts made her feel even stranger. —I was looking for you. You covered yourself again, lying back down. —'Kay... In such a sleepy and bare state, below such a perceptive gaze, your scars were on full display. Wednesday noticed, of course. The lighter scars and faded marks contrasted with your tanner skin, as did the much newer ones. She, of course, decided to stay in silence. She wasn't against speaking her mind. Quite the contrary. But she knew you'd be too sleepy. Instead, she closed the door and sat on your bed. Her hand was somewhat hesitant, but soon enough, her fingers combed your hair. Soft, soft. As soft as you made her, regrettably, feel. —Sleep well. We may talk later. ¤¤¤¤¤ Later came back all too soon, only minutes after she started caressing you. It made you sleepy at first, and then you suddenly remembered the state you were in. It shocked you awake. —H-hey!

You sat up quickly, making the covers slide down even more. She knew it was coming, as she does usually. So, she nodded, calmly, despite your panic. —I saw. I don't mind. Was that the normal reaction? Was that a good reaction? What would be a normal reaction anyway? Was that even the reaction you expected? At least Wednesday didn't judge... —I, uh... —Hm? You don't need to say anything—. She took some seconds to think. —I'm not adept with comfort, as you know. However, if you ever need my... presence, advice, or... something, I am here. It was too much. You didn't really expect her to comfort you, no. You knew she was a cold individual. But knowing that she truly did care about you, enough to make her say that she could possibly comfort you? That was truly a lot. Tears spilled before you noticed, nodding. Silently, they made trails on your face just as you did with her fingers on her hand. She let it happen, making your heart impossibly warm. —I appreciate it, Wednesday. She nodded. —I know. Maybe, just maybe, cold could be warm too.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday incorrect quotes #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday series #wednesday adams #wednsday addams #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #wednesday addams imagines #wednesday addams x you

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herlondonboy · 1 year

Text

You Stole My Heart (And Made It Your Own)

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

Summary: requested (find request here)

Warnings: swearing, reader’s a slag, there’s not really any plot, cringy ass title, spelling mistakes.

Word Count: 1.4k

Ever since Wednesday had moved to Nevermore, you’d been hopelessly in love with her. And, being the cocky, arrogant person you are, you tried flirty with her. You failed to see the looks she gave you from across a classroom. Looks of want and need were shot at each other when the latter wasn’t looking. Words of want were thrown when Wednesday was busy. You liked her ignoring you, it made the game much more fun.

Wednesday didn’t really understand why you, you, would talk to her the way you did. She had read all about you on Enid’s blog - the blonde made a point to read out every piece of dirt she had on you when she heard of your advances. Apparently, you had seduced half the population of your grade in your four years of being here. But they were just rumours, and they’d stay like that until you proved them correct. Or wrong.

You ignored the laughter around you as you watched Wednesday talk to that hand of hers. It was the same everyday: longing, flirting, eat, longing, repeat. Though the longing began to become unbearable. This was the first time any of your advances had been declined by someone that wasn’t in a secret relationship (that had happened far too often). To say it was hitting you hard is an understatement. Wednesday had taken your ego and attacked it with a hatchet.

You left your table and walked over to Wednesday. She didn’t seem to notice, but the hand did as it pointed to you. She looked to you after and rose an eyebrow in question. Before you could speak up, she began. “That’s Thing. He’s a he, not an it. He’s not an object.” You nodded in understanding and sat down. “What do you want?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not remembering any you came here. “I just wanted to talk.” You then settled on. A half-lie half-truth.

Wednesday rolled her eyes before looking to you. “You know, Enid is jealous of me.” She said. Now, don’t get this mixed up, Wednesday Addams was not one for gossip, but she found it quite amusing that Enid was jealous of her. “She thinks it’s unfair that you went for me and not her.”

“I don’t want Enid, I want you because I’m obsessed with you.” You mumbled, looking at her lips. Wednesday was the first person that you actually wanted to like you back.

“I don’t blame you.” She shrugged. Apparently, Xavier, Tyler Galpin, Enid Sinclair and (according to Bianca) Rowan Laslow had a thing for her too.

“No need to get cocky, Addams.” You held up

Your hands. Wednesday’s lips quivered in an almost-smirk. She’d never admit it, but she loved your games.

Thing knocked on the wooden table, gaining Wednesday’s attention. The two of you looked down as Thing began to rapidly sign. Wednesday’s face contorted into one of disgust then surprise before she shook her head. You decided it wasn’t a great time to tell her that you knew sign Language. Enid then came over and glared at you. You took that as a sign that you had overstayed your welcome. Waving to Wednesday and winking at Enid made the blonde’s face soften and turn red.

Before you left, you turned back to Enid, who still hadn’t recovered from the wink and said, “For the record, I don’t not flirt with you because I don’t find you attractive. I don’t flirt with you because my friend is hopelessly in love with you, okay? Because you are extremely attractive.” You then left, not seeing how Enid opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

Enid then turned to Wednesday, with a look of betrayal written all over he gave as the latter just watched you walk away to the Nightshades.

You were all fencing, or rather watching people fence at least. Ajax, Rowan, Xavier and you were watching Wednesday duel Bianca, once more. Though, this time it was three out of five points and you win, not to the blood. There was something about watching Wednesday take of her sabre mask and glare at Bianca, though she had won, that made you feel feral inside.

You flinched and stood up quickly when you felt something crawling on your thigh. Looking down, you sighed at Thing. “Dude, you can’t sneak up on a person like that!” You exclaimed, sitting back down. Thing pulled on the top half of your suit and pointed at the door. You looked up, realising that Wednesday had made herself scarce. “Wednesday wants to see me?”

Thing gave you a thumb up and the boys around you ooed like immature teenagers. Oh, wait. You rolled your eyes at them, leaving the room with Thing on your shoulder. You walked down the hallway until you were pulled into a classroom.

You stumbled into Wednesday before gaining your footing back. “You know, Addams, when you get pulled into an empty classroom by an attractive girl, it usually mean that you’re about to have mind-blowingly good sex.”

Wednesday let go of you like you were on fire and you chuckled, fixing your sleeves. “Why were you staring at me during the fencing match?” She asked.

“Because I love you.” You said with a nonchalant shrug.

Wednesday scrunched her eyes in confusion. “Don’t do that to yourself, y/n.” She told you. “I’m not a good person to love. You could have anyone. Why me?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Just because.” You mumbled.

Wednesday looked at you before leaving. She ignored the Nightshades that were gathered around the door as she walked to her dormitory. You went out after, cursing out your friends as you flicked Ajax on the back of the head, making him jump in pain. Thing then crawled out next, following after Wednesday.

“What the fuck was that?” Ajax exclaimed in fear, jumping out of his skin.

“That was Thing.” You said, walking away from them.

You saw Wednesday again during lunch the next day and, for the first time ever, you made eye contact from across the hall. Her stare wasn’t welcoming and was unnerving, but you liked in. I’m a weird way. You smirked at her for having stolen her attention away from her best friend when you got a notification.

Breaking the staring match with Wednesday, a foolish move, you opened your phone to Enid’s gossip blog. It was the same as always until a photo of you kissing someone came up. You couldn’t tell who it was, but your hair was different so you assumed it was old. Now to deduce the bigger question: why was Enid trying to stir drama?

There was no particular reason for you to be in the library after curfew other than the fact that it was completely silent, apart from the ticks of the grandfather clock in the corner and your soft breathing. The sound of paper rustling every time you flipped the page scratched your brain perfectly.

Wednesday had finally given up with your game. She couldn’t stay calm when she thought about you. She hated that, how you made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. It was like you came into her life, threw out everything she had known to about love and made yourself at home in her mind. You plagued her mind even when she was asleep.

She had followed you to the library that night and after just silently watching you for a while, she made her way over to you. “y/n.” She said, her voice void of emotion, as always.

You jumped, your heart stopping for a second as you held your hand over your heart. “Jesus H. Christ, Wednesday.” You sighed, massaging your eyebrows to relax yourself. “Do you need something?”

“You.” Wednesday said. Before you could process her words, she continued. “I want you.”

You relaxed your body and looked at her with a neutral gaze. “Everyone does.” You told her and she scoffed in frustration.

“y/n, I’m trying to say that I think I love you too.” Wednesday spat out, the words evidently tasting like rainbows and cupcakes on her tongue.

“It’d be a tragedy not to be.” You shrugged Wednesday looked like she was about to leave when you suddenly stood up and walked in front of her, blocking the pathway out of the library.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and tried to get past, but you blocked her once more. “Enid said that when you tell someone that you’re in love with them, they say it back.” Wednesday said. “You didn’t say it back, y/n.”

“Wednesday, I was joking.” You told her softly.

“Ha. Ha ha ha.” Wednesday said humourlessly. The slight embarrassment you had made her feel still fresh in her mind.

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

yours only

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You make Wednesday feel something she never felt before; jealousy. And maybe a bit of something else too.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her, who stole my heart pretty quickly. I hope this is okay, hope I could somehow capture her personality that's definitely not an easy one. Let me know what you think. Requests for her are open. <3

Masterlist

You felt a little petty, just a little, as you walked amongst the woods to meet Xavier in his secret spot, the one where he stored most of his paintings.

But he's been a good friend of yours ever since before Wednesday came to Nevermore, and if she can spend however long she wants in that coffee shop, why can't you do the same?

You weren't expecting to fall for her, in reality, you couldn't stand her in the beginning. But one doesn't choose one's feelings, and when underneath all that secrecy and nonchalant attitude she does things like; take an extra tray of breakfast for you when you wake up a little late, or help you in class when you forget the particularities of a flower, or even send Thing to your room in the dead of night with a written note for you to meet her the next day for an outing, which was code for sneaking out to investigate, but the gesture is there.

It was safe to say you were a goner. As much as it might be — her words, not yours — a terrible decision.

But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.

The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.

It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.

You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.

You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."

Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"

"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."

There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.

You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."

A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.

You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.

Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.

You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.

"What question?" You ask.

Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.

Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"

"This is childish."

"Indeed."

"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.

Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."

There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.

You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.

You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.

Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.

"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."

Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.

The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.

"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."

Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.

You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.

Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"

You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"

For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."

Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"

Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.

It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.

When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.

The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242

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spaghettiposts · 2 months

Text

Spaghettiposts - Masterlist

just your friendly neighborhood noodle with a pen

- Request status: Open

Characters I write for:

Wanda Maximoff

Tara Carpenter

Wednesday Addams

Cairo Sweet

Natasha Romanoff

More coming soon…

| Wanda Maximoff

Oneshots:

Language Barriers | Fluff

Summary: In which you can't help but try to figure out what Wanda's been calling you in sokovian

/~/

Snowmen & Kisses | Fluff, winter special

Summary: Making a snowman with Wanda leads to her mouth on yours.

/~/

Through Thick and Thin | Sick fic, fluff, clingy witch, requested

Summary: “any chance of a fic where Y/N comes home to find Wanda sat on the sofa surrounded by tissues, shes all sniffly and is sneezing like 24/7. Y/N realise she has a pretty bad cold and takes care of her? Lots of fluff?”

/~/

Secrets Out | Established Relationship, fluff, a hint of spice, Requested

Summary: “Hi do fick like wanda (16/17 years) invites his girlfriend (reader) to komleksu avengers in the absence of the team but are caught (Avengers do not know that wanda has someone and ask for Clint in the role of slightly overprotective older brother / dad)”

/~/

All Me | Tooth rotting fluff, sleepy cuddly gf Wanda supremacy, author fav fic

Summary: sharing a cute moment with wanda under the sheets

/~/

Unspoken Truths | Unspoken Desires | Pregnancy fic, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, no powers au

Summary: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

/~/

An Outlaws Christmas | Cowboy au, established relationship, fluff, holiday special, many kisses.

Summary: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.

/~/

Devotion | Kinda dark Wanda? sorta established relationship, hurt/comfort, slight themes of possessiveness, she ties you to a chair.

Summary: You could never escape Wanda, much less the Scarlet Witch. Even bound to a chair, you couldn’t help but fall into her again. Your precious witch.

/~/

Window Crashin' | Fluff, WandaNat, Oblivious reader, seriously you're dense af, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

| Tara Carpenter

Oneshots:

A Fools Love | Ghostface!Tara, murder, slight mentions of gore, fucked up but we love her still, fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: You're a fool who falls in love with Tara Carpenter, a fool who's hopelessly devoted to her. No matter what.

/~/

To Be Loved | Soft slow fluff, mentions of ghostface/attacks, injured arm, hurt/comfort, sweet love confessions, softness all around, established relationship, author fav fic

Summary: You’ve never known love, until Tara.

| Wednesday Addams

Oneshots:

Video Games | Fluff, established relationship, slightly ooc wednesday, mentions of death yk the usual.

Summary: Video games are a waste of time in Wednesdays opinion, being with you however is not.

| Cairo Sweet

Oneshots:

Picture to Burn | Angst, drinking, slight sexual content, friends to what the hell are we.

Summary: You should've known better than to fall for Cairo, your friend who seemed to have no interest in you, but it only takes one drink to mess things up and get you into her bed.

| Natasha Romanoff

Oneshots:

Window Crashin' | Fluff, WandaNat, Oblivious reader, seriously you're dense af, tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

can I request jealous Wednesday x fem reader? Wednesday gets jealous of Xavier and the reader so she's more passive aggressive than usual and has the urge to pull pranks on Xavier. But when Wednesday sees reader and Xavier painting the reader chases after her

Summary: Wednesday is reluctant to accept that she’s jealous of your friendship with Xavier until it all comes ahead.

A/n: Also due to the fact of how fucking long I made this fic, I had to relegate pranks (plural) to a singular prank. I rambled a little bit ngl.

Wednesday hated the gut feeling she’d get whenever she saw you and Xavier within extreme close proximity of one another; As though you were trying to fuse into one being with how pressed against one another you were. It felt like she had a stone stuck in her stomach that refused to dissolve and was starting to cause external as well as internal issues the longer it went unresolved. Normally Wednesday viewed herself above expressing emotions should they not provide beneficial results to her in the long run for the remainder of her stay at Nevermore, or everyday life in general.

However it seemed to Wednesday that you were the peculiar exception to this golden rule she had lived by since the passing of her pet scorpion. She felt fluttery in her chest whenever you laughed, her clothed skin burned with the remnants of your accidental touches and she felt most anticipating when she made plans with you after classes. You’ve managed to brought fourth emotions Wednesday long thought she had killed in order of bettering herself whether you were aware of your effect or not.

She hated it, she hated not being in control of her emotions and by that logic, Wednesday should hate you for being the reason for her lack of self control but she didn’t. Instead she directed all her hatred towards Xavier to the point that castration was a considered punishment but knowing how Nevermore operates; Wednesday knew that short of thing would’ve be allowed to fly without repercussions. ‘A pity really,’ she thought to herself as she maintained eye contact with the back of Xavier’s head as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, ‘a shame even.’

Enid wished she could see the inner workings of Wednesday’s head but with how brutally she was stabbing the lunch table with her blunt knife, she quickly changed her mind in fear of that knife being directed at her next. “Wednesday, remember what we talked about when we get urge to stab something.” Enid spoke hesitantly as she tried to safely remove the knife away from Wednesday’s hand. When it was brought down harder then the previous times, blade lodged deeply within the table that once Wednesday lets go of the handle, the knife however remained standing straight up. Her eyes never departing from you nor Xavier as they blazed with silent fury. “Keep stabbing until it stops moving.” She replied blankly before standing up.

“Hey! Wednesday! Where are you going-“ Enid tried calling out to her friend when her words got caught up in her throat when her eyes followed the direction she was heading; You and Xavier. “Oh no.” Enid whispered as she rushed after Wednesday in hope of preventing someone’s (read: Xavier’s) death. “I do not want to be caught in the midst of a murder today, I just got these clothes recently and blood would not go well with them.” She rambled under her breath as nervousness got the better of her when she finally managed to catch up with Wednesday who was looking straight at you.

“Y/n.”

“Oh shit.” you almost jumped out of your chair at the sudden voice beside you had Xavier not caught you by the shoulders to stabilise you. Giving the boy your thanks you looked to your side of the table to see Wednesday and Enid standing there. “Hey Wednesday! Hey Enid, what’s up? Me and Xavier here were just-“ “I need you to come over to my-“ “our” Enid interrupted, flashing a smile when Wednesday looked at her with almost murderous intent before bringing her attention back to you. “Our dorm,” she shot enid a glare, “to look over some studies that were assigned to us last period.”

“We did?” You questioned as you, Xavier and Enid share a look of confusion as all four of you had last period together and to your recollection, there was no tasked assignment. So either you had shit memory or something else was at hand here that you were oblivious towards. Xavier shrugged his shoulders, “beats me and I tend to pay attention in my classes.” You shoved him by the shoulder as you laughed, “you fucking liar, no you don’t you always end up copying my notes or worse!” Xavier chuckled, extending his hand to pat your sympathetically on the shoulder.

“I make it up to you don’t I?” He asked innocently, making you scoff as you swat away his hand. before bringing his attention to Wednesday who by now has her jaw so tightly clenched behind a deadpan face that she swore she felt some teeth crack under the pressure she was putting them under. “Are you sure we got an assessment Wednesday? Me and y/n here have made plans to go beyond and explore the realms of possibilities of which through art later tonight.” Xavier iterated the last part in a tone he knew would get to you, in the end you couldn’t help but snort as you smacked his shoulder. “Stop talking like that, I’ll think I’ll piss myself.” You croaked through your laughter as you leant against Xavier for support.

“Too much information y/n,” Xavier grimaced but he sucked at keeping it up as his lips cracked into a bigger smile, “just too much information.” Whilst you both were distracted with your laughter, Enid could see that Wednesday was gesturing for something lurking under your table with her head and when she went to angled herself better to see what it was and to her surprise; Thing could be seen unlacing Xavier’s shoelaces before tying them back together again in a fashion that would have him take a personal greeting with the floor before scampering off back to where he came.

Now Enid never pegged Wednesday as the prankster type, considering the fact that she had told her time and time again that she was above such childish shenanigans. Yet here she was, having Thing pull pranks on her behalf all because she was jealous. “You’re right,” Wednesday uncharacteristically admitted, “must’ve got my dates incorrect, how foolish of me.” She then shrugs but before she leaves your table; Wednesday looked back over her shoulder, “Xavier.” She said. “Yeah?” He replied, albeit confused. “Watch your step.” Was all she said before walking away, leaving Enid to hastily bid you both goodbye as she rushed to catching up to her before mouthing something neither of you could decipher.

“What did she meant by that?” Xavier asked as he looked at you, watching the back of Wednesday’s head as she faded from view. “No idea but hearing that come from her? It’s probably not a good thing.” You admitted, sensing that something was off with Wednesday but you knew better then to openly confront a hostile animal. She wouldn’t budge an inch. So you decided that it would be best to let her work through whatever it was that she was going through in her own time. “Well that’s real reassuring.” Xavier said glumly before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“We better get going before we’re late to herbology class.” He adds as he goes to stand up but as he attempts to move out from his seat; Xavier notices a little too late that his shoes were mysteriously tied together, causing him to trip over himself and fall flat on the floor with a yelp. “Oh my god, Xavier are you alright!” You exclaimed as you scrambled to help him up off of the floor, dusting him down of any dirt that might’ve lingered. “I understood what she meant by that now.” Xavier grimaced in pain. You both ended up being late for class by a couple of minutes due to Xavier stopping to unlace his shoes and tying them back up properly before practically sprinting across Nevermore towards your next lesson.

The next time Wednesday walked in on you and Xavier bonding, it wasn’t until nightfall that she came across the sound of laughter filling the air, growing louder and louder the closer she got to the abandoned shed Xavier had tricked out into an art studio. Her blood still boiled with how at ease Xavier seemed whenever he got physical with you and how you never seem to bask in his affection. She despised her Achilles heel which was you and the illogical thoughts you brought up within her head, causing her to loose rational train of thought and sleep as she now wandered the school grounds late at night in hopes for sleep to greet her. However Wednesday found herself stood outside the shed where she could hear yours and Xavier’s conversation loud and clear.

“You messy pup! Your getting paint on everything except the canvas!” Xavier exclaimed though it was in good nature considering how quick he was to laugh. “We’ll maybe if I had more to go on then the bullshit excuse of ‘painting with my heart.’ Then I wouldn’t be such a messy pup then would I?” You replied, reduced to a laughing fit of your own. It was obvious to Wednesday that you were both having fun, so much fun in fact that she believed that she was the last thing on your mind. You rarely visited her and Enid in their dorm anymore, too busy having Xavier occupying your time. Seemingly possessed by the betrayal she was feeling in that moment, Wednesday forcefully opened the door in time to see Xavier stand a breaths width away from you, holding your face in his hands as his thumb rubs away at some remnants of paint.

His gaze seemed a little too intense for Wednesday’s liking as she took into account of the way he looked at you that same exact way she caught herself looking at you; as though you’ve painted the night sky of which you hung the stars from. Your eyes darted to hers as they widened at the realisation of how this looked to other people but before you could open your mouth to say anything. Wednesday had already slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Xavier knew there was something between you and Wednesday and he wanted to help you in expressing your feelings in a way that didn’t suffocate Wednesday. However it seemed that she might’ve misunderstood this as him making a move on you which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Go after her.” Xavier said, stepping away from you.

“She won’t believe me-“ “well then try to make her believe you.” Xavier stopped you before you could admit defeat. “You like this girl don’t you?” He asked, “of course I do Xavier, I like her very, very much.” You admitted, feeling the tears of frustration well up in the corner of your eyes. Xavier smiled softly as he cross the room to open the door, “Then go get her, tiger.” He urges as he gestured towards the silhouette of Wednesday that was slowly fading away from view the further and further away she got. You smiled at Xander, “thank you.” You said to him before bolting out of the art studio and after Wednesday as fast as your legs could carry you.

“You got this!” You heard Xavier exclaim from behind which only pushed you even further forward as you darted past trees, bushes, the archery range until you could vaguely make out Wednesday making her way to the front of the building that lead up to her dorm in Ophelia Hall. “Wednesday!” You called, uncaring of who you woke up in the process, the only thing that mattered to you was setting things straight. “Wednesday wait, I need to talk to you!” You saw Wednesday stop at the doors and you almost felt like collapsing when you finally caught up to her, leaving heavily on the door as you struggled to filling your lungs with the sufficient amount of oxygen.

“What do you want.” Wednesday snapped. She hadn’t meant to stop but something within her told her that she’d be better off hearing you out. “I’m going to cut the bullshit and get to the point,” you said through gasps, coughing briefly before taking a deep breath, “I like you Wednesday Addams. I like you a lot, I’ve been meaning to find ways of telling you how I feel that wouldn’t overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. So I’ve taken to asking Xavier for advice because he’s and artist and shit as you know.” Wednesday felt a familiar fluttering in her chest as you continued to explain yourself when all she really cared enough to hear was that you liked her and only did what you did as to not force her out of her comfort zone for you.

So instead of letting you continue your long winded explanation, Wednesday merely grabbed ahold of your shirt, pulling you into her lips as she gave you a chaste kiss before shoving you away slightly. Your wide eyed expression had a smile creep up on Wednesday’s face as she quickly composed herself. “I like you too,” she headed you silently cheer to yourself, “however you can start repaying me for sacrificing our time together by joining me on the astrology tower tomorrow night.” Your eyes widened and your smile stretched across your face. “Like a date, a date date?” Wednesday couldn’t help but scoff at your choice of words before replying, “yes, like a date date.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fox #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic

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