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#wednesday addams x gn!reader
Text
Too Sweet
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Drabble
Summary: You and Wednesday were simply night and day, contrasting personalities preventing any chance of pursuit
Warning(s): No dialogue, pining!Wednesday, & no pronouns but the word 'goddess' is used once
Notes: Based off of 'Too Sweet' by the lovely Andrew Hozier, this song feels wenclair coded - hopefully I get the energy to edit them to it one day. This is my first time writing for Wednesday, so constructive criticism is more than welcome, and much appreciated! 🙏 (as it always is)
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Wednesday despised you. She loathed every cell in your body, every word you spoke, every path you chose. Yet no matter how deep her hatred for you ran, it was all out of pure spite.
You were close friends with Enid, so inevitably that meant you and Wednesday often found yourselves in the same atmosphere. Sometimes you and Enid would have sleepovers—sometimes with a couple of the others—and it did not take long for Wednesday to discover you were an early bird opposed to her late night writing sessions. 
You always looked so peaceful while resting. How do you sleep so well? Wednesday wondered. What do you dream about? It’s silly and utterly ridiculous, she knows. But her mind can’t help but stray when it comes to you. You have shown your own concern when it comes to the Addams’ erratic sleep schedule, if you could even classify it as one. You have always said to others—including Wednesday—to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. 
You wake up to watch the sunrise;  it was repulsing how rottenly pure that is. You were drunk on life, a poet—but far from Wednesday’s brand. You had a bright perspective; it was naive, yet wholesome. Your poetry revolves around the optimistic, steadfast side of life—while Wednesday’s consists of more realistic themes such as death, betrayal, and eternal heartbreak. It was a drastic contrast.
Wednesday could never bear such a naive way of life, so she simply doesn’t understand how you do. It was such a frustrating thought, the way you went about. Don’t you just want to wake up dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? You lived such a reserved life in her eyes; treating your mouth as if it's heaven’s gate, your body like it’s the TSA. 
She wasn’t oblivious to the glances you spared her; it was an internal battle refusing to meet them. But there were consequences. Wednesday has seen horrific things, things she believes would force a person like you into abandoning their wide-eyed outlook on life; she refuses to be the one who corrupts you. She wishes she could go along, don’t get her wrong. You were a goddess on earth, inside and out; bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. Tooth rotting was what you were, but Wednesday did always deem herself a masochist. 
If you can sit on a barrel, maybe she’ll wait. But until that day, she’d rather take her whiskey neat, raw as the honey in your tea, and coffee black as the ink you use to craft your sugar coated poems. Your sweetness was too overwhelming for her to carry, the looks you gave her alone were laced in your perfection. 
Everything pointed to the evident conclusion; you’re too sweet for her.
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A/N: I feel eh abt this one, but I need to experiment with Wednesday more if I wanna get used to writing for her
402 notes · View notes
nouvxllev · 22 days
Note
"When I saw you
I fell in love, and
you smiled
because you knew
-William Shakespeare"
LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.
I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭
amore, amore, amore.
Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)
Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!
a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder
masterlist
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I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.
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"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."
"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."
"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"
"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."
"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"
"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"
"I fail to see my fault."
"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"
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I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.
If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.
Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.
But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.
I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.
I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.
If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.
I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.
I could lose the name I print on paper.
I could lose my name.
And then I realized I haven't.
There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.
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I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.
My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.
I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.
A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.
I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.
Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.
"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.
I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.
And so that's what I did.
I wish I hadn't.
Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.
A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?
When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.
Why were they smiling?
"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.
They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.
They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?
They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  
"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."
They stole one more look of me.
"Terrifyingly bewitching."
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It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.
I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.
Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.
Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.
Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.
And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.
I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.
Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.
How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.
But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.
My home.
But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.
I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.
I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.
When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.
And when I came back, they were there.
And when I approached them, it felt right.
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It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.
Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.
Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.
I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.
I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.
What terrified me is why I was back.
Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.
"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.
They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.
"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.
"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.
I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."
I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.
It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.
"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.
They sighed, my lips twitched.
"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"
"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.
"Why are you here?"
"Do I need to reason to?"
"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.
Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.
"Nothing."
I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"
"Mhm."
"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"
"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."
"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."
"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."
It was my turn to sigh.
"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."
Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."
"No. No, you haven't."
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If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.
It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.
Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.
In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.
I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.
I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.
But, instead, my heart responded.
When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.
Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.
My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.
I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.
It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.
I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.
Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.
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In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.
It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.
"Wends!"
Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.
As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.
Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.
It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.
They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.
Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"
It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.
I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."
I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.
"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."
"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."
I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."
"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.
"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."
The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.
Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.
It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.
I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."
They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."
"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."
"You're an author?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Are you a painter? An artist?"
"Well... I—no?"
"Then we both don't know what we're doing."
Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.
"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.
"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."
"Oh."
I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.
"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."
"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.
"I'll miss you, Wednesday."
Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.
Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.
Now it felt like I should've lied for them.
I will forever miss you.
I wrote. I never showed them.
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One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.
I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.
I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.
Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.
Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.
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"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."
"Who others?"
"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."
"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."
"Don't flatter me."
"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."
"Addams."
I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."
"What happened to you there? You met someone?"
"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"
"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"
"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."
"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."
"They're no one."
"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"
I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."
"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"
I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.
But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.
The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.
I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.
I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?
I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.
"Y/n?"
I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.
"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"
"He proposed to me."
Oh.
I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.
I realized I was wrong.
Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.
I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.
But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.
Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.
"Then why are you crying?"
"I don't know if I love him."
"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"
"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"
"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"
"You're everything."
It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.
That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.
I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.
Now I ache of them.
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"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."
Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.
Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.
"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.
She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.
"And do you believe in that, mother?"
Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."
"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."
"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."
"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."
She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""
"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."
"Yet here we are."
Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.
She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.
But no one told her it could be a person.
Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."
"Well, I—"
"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."
You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.
"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.
Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"
"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."
"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.
You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"
Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.
Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."
"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.
"I do not! When did I ever—"
"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.
"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"
You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.
"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.
You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."
Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"
"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."
And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.
"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."
You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.
She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.
You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.
"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."
Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."
"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.
It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.
"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.
You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."
"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."
"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.
"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.
By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.
Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.
You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.
"Amore." She whispered.
"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.
You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"
"Can I... Can you—"
You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"
She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."
A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.
Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."
But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.
You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.
"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.
You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."
"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."
Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."
"When it comes to you, I do and I can."
Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.
"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."
"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.
One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.
You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.
"May I kiss you?"
"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."
She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.
You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.
You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.
"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.
"Ever since you've met me."
“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”
“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”
You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”
You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."
"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.
You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"
Wednesday blinked. "I always will."
You smiled.
And Wednesday smiled back.
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a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear
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writing-the-stars · 1 year
Note
May I request a (Wednesday Addams x fem reader) where reader visits Wednesday’s house, and they get caught cuddling by Morticia and so Wednesday throws reader off of her, and denies anything happened, but Morticia won’t let it go and teases her? Have a good day and thanks for reading my request. :]
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Untitled
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x GN!Reader
Summary: Wednesday indulges in a moment of vulnerability
Warnings: Rushed Ending. Not As Well Executed As I Would Like.
Word Count: 529
A/N: The amount of rewrites this little blurb underwent is ridiculous! Every time I'd start writing I'd get halfway through, think it was stupid, and completely erase everything I had written. I am now just forcing myself to post this because I know it will probably never get posted if I don't. I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope it's not too much of a letdown. Thank you for reading!
Masterlist
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Wednesday lay stiffly by your side– arms awkwardly wrapped around your frame as you held her close to you. Physical affection was something the macabre girl was still attempting to grow accustomed to, having previously only maintained physical contact to maim someone. Touching someone with such tenderness and intimacy felt foreign to the psychic, but she could not deny the odd sense of security she felt being encased in your arms. 
Wednesday heeded her mother’s warning about the dangers of her psychic abilities. She felt the pressure of losing herself to the darkness of her visions every day. The threat of being driven to isolation never bothered the raven-haired girl before, but now that she has begrudgingly found herself attached to people she did not want to lose, remaining balanced was a grueling battle she was intent on resulting victorious. 
The grounding of your arms helped with this ambition as you seemed to deflect feelings of distrust. You had always been a steadfast resource for the Addams girl. Never questioning her dubious midnight expeditions or unsavory schemes. You had always proven yourself faithful to her– a constant companion she had not realized she wanted until you. You made it easy for her to breathe, to allow herself small moments of vulnerability she could only ever share with you. 
It was gratifying to have moments like these. Moments where she did not feel the need to hide behind her biting wit and cold wall of apathy she had built around herself– not that she would ever admit that to anyone but herself. You provide her with a sense of safety she realizes she has been lacking. 
Being with you has begun opening her eyes to the logic behind what she once believed was her mother’s foolish decision. While she would never give up her own ambitions in life to be a housewife, she could see what lured her mother in. Though again, she rather act as a human doll for Enid than let anyone else know this. The infuriating smirk donning her mother’s lips when she brought you home this evening was enough of an “I told you so” for Wednesday to last the rest of her life. 
Of course, as Wednesday was starting to learn since her arrival to Nevermore, she could not always get what she wanted, and as her bedroom door creaked open– the slim frame of her mother lurking in the doorway– she knew she would be haunted by this moment forever. Still, the raven-haired girl thrusts your body off of hers in a futile attempt to preserve some of her pride. 
“Wednesday!” you exclaim– body thumping against the hardwood of her bedroom floor. 
Morticia raises a thinly shaped eyebrow– that maddening knowing smirk adorning her lips. 
“I was attempting to show them how to suffocate someone,” Wednesday announces, the pathetic excuse for a lie the first thing her brain could conjure in her disconcerted state.
“I see. And with affection no less,” Morticia replies, a teasing grin decorating her features. 
A giggle escapes your lips as Wednesday’s pallor rouges just the slightest tint. Her wicked mother will lure this over her head for all eternity.
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cannibalizedyke · 1 year
Note
(I LOVE YOUR NEW THEME)
wednesday x reader request/prompt: you bury/hide/get rid of a body together <3
sy u concern me sometimes😭😭 /lh /aff
THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. IF THIS FIC IS NOT FOR YOU, MOVE ON AND SCROLL. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO CONSUME.
🪦anything for you🪦
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word count: 297
warnings: DARK, murder, death, semi-graphic but not really
taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1 @puppy-coded @sw34terw34ther @starstruckwillows @katsukis1wife @manyfandomsfanvergent
“is he dead?” you asked apathetically, glancing at wednesday.
your girlfriend nodded once, still staring at the mangled body on the ground.
you sighed. “what did he do?”
she looked up at you. “he insulted you,” she said simply.
that shouldn’t have given you butterflies. it did anyway.
you looked back at the body and twisted your lips. “need help taking care of it?”
wednesday grinned—which was more like the smallest of smiles on her—in spite of herself and nodded again.
you bit your lip and tilted your head slightly to the right. “okay. help me get him to the woods.”
she grabbed his legs—or what used to be his legs; they were so brutally broken and bloodied you could hardly even tell what they once were—while you grabbed the upper half of him and the two of you hoisted him up and carried him into the forest a few feet away from you. neither of you had shovels or anything else to dig with so you kneeled in the dirt and started clawing in the mud with your hands.
it took at least half an hour and some significantly bloodied nails, but eventually you’d created a hole big enough for the body. the two of you dumped him unceremoniously inside and threw the dirt back on top.
“there,” you sighed, leaning back in exhaustion. “good?”
wednesday examined your handiwork and nodded, content. “yes.” she looked at you. “thank you.”
“of course.” you inched closer to her and gently caressed some dried blood off her cheek with your thumb. she shut her eyes. “i’d do anything for you.”
her eyes snapped open. “would you kill someone for me?”
you hesitated, momentarily searching your heart for the answer. “yes,” you concluded. “after all, you did so for me.”
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mgcldydrms · 1 year
Note
can you do wednesday headcanons with artist!reader?
wednesday addams x artist!reader:
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on most days, wednesday writes on her typewriter while you sit on her bed and draw on pieces of paper
you look up from time to time, a smile on your face before you continue your sketch
she finds you all around nevermore with a sketchbook in hand and pencils in your pockets
she usually joins you and reads a book while you draw
your main thing to draw these days is wednesday
you don't want to show her your sketches, but she makes you
"that's me. I like it. do you have more?"
you show her all your drawings that you keep in your room, not just of her, but of your friends and the school
you swear you can see a crack of a smile on wednesday's lips as she looks through them
she doesn't say or show it, but you know that she really enjoys your drawings
when you don't look, she snatches one of them and puts it in one of her pockets to take to her room
she places it next to her typewriter as a sort of inspiration, however, hiding it as soon as someone comes too close, especially enid, knowing that she wouldn't stop talking about it
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Text
Masterlist
I usually write gender neutral reader, but I might slip sometimes with female pronouns. There is no use of "(Y/N)".
Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader
Rainy days and tired souls
Summary: Natasha and R take a break after a tough mission, some painting, some crying, and some comforting.
Warnings: mention of injuries (nothing graphic), hurt/comfort, fluff. Soft nat ;)
Word count: 865
Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader
Study sesh gone wrong.
Summary: It's finals week and you are overwhalmed, Wanda helps you get through a rough study session. (College Au)
Warnings: Academic stress, being very overwhalmed, flow state is a bitch sometimes, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.
Word count: 862
Wednesday Addams x gn!reader
Mateine is the new caffeine
Summary: Wednesday tries mate for the first time, by the hand of her partner, R.
Warnings: None! Only fluff! soft!Wednesday
Word Count: 1178
Necromancy? No, cardiopulmonary resuscitation!
Summary: When the time comes, will reader be able to save her girlfriend? (or: The final battle, but make it angstier)
Warnings: Blood, Fighting, Death.
Word Count: 1281
Lucy Carlyle x gn!reader
The C in Concussion stands for Cuddles!
Summary: The aftermath of the screaming staircase case (Doubt Thou the Stars episode), Reader gets a concussion and there might be some cuddles involved.
Warnings: ghost-fighting (brief), getting a concussion (feeling dizzy and confused), hurt/comfort and fluff (I know, very surprising).
Word count: 1623
A little post-river pick-me-up.
Summary: R makes panqueques con dulce de leche (argentinian crepes filled with a milk based caramel) for the team after the shiver-inducing Thamesis fiasco.
Warnings: Falling into the Thames (chapter 7 follow-up), me sugarcoating the end because I'm weak for this fandom and this fandom only, and fluff.
Word Count: 1.9k
Sometimes it's just better (not to know).
(Multichapter)
Summary: When you get a gut feeling that something is targeting 35 Portland Row -and therefore your family-; how far will you go to protect it?
Warnings: angsty angstt, violence, a lot of nightmares and witchy stuff, reader has the gift of precognition.
Word count: 2.2k
Nancy Drew x gn!reader
When a Counterspell Backfires, Part 1.
Summary: After not taking it seriously for some time, breaking the curse Temperance casted on you and Nancy proves harder than expected.
Warnings: angst, deteriorated health mention, passing out.
Word Count: 1.3k
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woewriting · 5 months
Text
BLOODLINES wednesday addams x vampire!reader
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tags. mdni! blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. word count. 1595 a/n. first wdw in weeks... just a small thing for my vampire fellas. | masterlist
──
Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.
Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.
“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”
“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”
“Now that you do, stop it.”
“I can’t control it.”
Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.
You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.
“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.
“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”
Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.
Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.
“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.
The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.
Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.
“Take it.”
“No.”
“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”
The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.
All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.
The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.
Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.
“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”
“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.
Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.
“I profoundly hate when you do that.”
“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.
“Stop talking. It’s an order.”
You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”
“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”
“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”
Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.
It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.
For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.
She needed you as much as you needed her.
Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.
Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.
“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”
A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.
The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.
Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.
Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.
Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.
Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.
Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.
“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”
As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.
“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.
“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”
Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.
“As you wish, master.”
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teaaagan · 9 months
Text
Share
Y/N: Wends, you need to learn to share!
Y/N: So, if you have ten biscuits and someone asks you for one?
Wednesday: I would still have ten biscuits
Y/N: And if you have ten biscuits and someone takes one?
Wednesday: Ten biscuits and a dead body
Y/N: *sighs*
Y/N: What if you have ten biscuits and I ask you for one?
Wednesday: Then I would have five biscuits left
Y/N: Five?
Wednesday: Of course, I would give you half of them
Y/N: *actually touched*
Y/N: *smiles* 
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eufezco · 1 year
Text
;Y/N'S CAMERA ROLL🪴🔪🌬️ DATING WEDNESDAY VERSION
enid s. version // tyler g. version
📸 — "You look awesome guys!"
Wednesday's breathing was heavy, showing how annoyed she was. It wasn't enough having her parents in Nevermore for the weekend but you also wanted her to take photos with them. "Oh, come on, your family is great. I love them." Gómez was more than pleased to take photos with her little storm cloud and you loved him because of how dedicated he was. You also took some photos of him and Pugsley, and Morticia and Gómez being really close to each other. At that point, Wednesday was about to explode.
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📸 — You just love when she makes a ball of herself. Sometimes she does it because she needs to think and it helps her to meditate, other times because she's overwhelmed and needs to be on her own for a little while. But other times she does it because she's aware of how adorable you think she looks.
You'd be walking around Nevermore and find a small black ball sitting on the ground, with her legs against her chest and trying to hide from everyone. You'd put your phone out of your pocket and take a photo before approaching her and sitting by her side with your arms pulling Wednesday closer.
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📸 — Photos when she's not paying attention. She could be doing anything and you'd need to take a photo of her because of how beautiful she looked. If she caught you, Wednesday would frown, not mad, just confused, and she'd ask you why would you do that.
She looked adorable with the cat ears, and she seemed so peaceful during her writing hour that you needed to capture it.
"Wednesday?" You called her after taking a photo of her.
She hummed.
"I love you."
Wednesday raised her head from the typewriter and her eyes focused on the wall in front of her. You couldn't see the expression on her face but you were sure that she was deciding what to do.
"I love you too."
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📸 — "Aw, you're literally pocket size."
She raised her eyebrows, not believing what you just called her. Wednesday Addams being called pocket size. "Give me your phone." She stated and tried to take it off your hands.
"You are so small I could just put you in my pocket."
"Stop it, y/n. It's not funny."
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You were enjoying the RaveN's dance with your girlfriend until some idiot had to ruin it. But covered in blood, Wednesday seemed to enjoy it more.
"Take a photo of me."
You frowned. "Are you sure? You're like soaked in blood."
"I know."
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shenachigans · 1 year
Text
I OWE YOU | Wednesday Addams
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PAIRING: Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader
CW: fluff, Wednesday and Y/n are not dating yet, harmless threats, sudden outburst because of trauma, mentions of trauma, Wednesday and Y/n have a crush on each other
SUMMARY: Wednesday accidentally reawakens a trauma, so she makes it up to you by letting you hug her, which turns into her spooning you on Enid’s bed.
A/N: First time writing for Wednesday and writing fluff.
WORDS: 2,450
(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)
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Ever since Wednesday first attended Nevermore, she would often see you in her and Enid’s dorm to fool around with your best friend. Bursts of laughter, blasting music, and gossip would resonate from the bright side of the dorm room to the plain yet elegant black and white side of the room. 
At first, Wednesday thought of the liveliness of Enid’s side of the dorm as a nuisance—an obstacle that prevents her from focusing on writing her novel. However, as months passed during the semester, she didn’t mind your presence. 
Wednesday would rather carve her eyes out than admit it to your face though. The tingling and unusual sensations she felt on her chest whenever you were around irked her. It was out of her character to feel attraction towards you, but love works in complicated ways. She grew fond of the thrill of breaking character—her way of saying how she loved the feeling of liking you.
When you first met Wednesday, you didn’t mind her too much, but you weren’t scared of her like the other students were when she first came to the school. She was just there, tagging along with you and Enid, but you never found her to be a problem despite her gruesome past and rumors. She was likable, but you put your feelings aside because you knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, let alone romance.
You grew comfortable in her presence and treated her like any other while respecting her boundaries. Which boundaries? Physical contact boundaries. It was hard not to randomly tackle someone you knew into a hug as it was your love language, but you tried your best not to make Wednesday uncomfortable. You wish you could hug her at least once in your life. You always told her why you wouldn’t touch her so she wouldn’t misunderstand—if she cared anyway.
Wednesday never told you how bloody adorable you were when you apologized for accidentally sharing a skinship. However, she also wanted you to disrespect her boundaries. She also craved what others experienced—your stubble touches and death-gripping hugs. 
She wanted to feel more of your warmth against her cold-stone skin—another thought she would only think of when it was about you. She curses herself when she feels an irking feeling in her guts when she sees your arm wrapped around Enid’s as you three walk. Thing would always tease her for being touch-starved for you, even if he received threats as his replies.
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Today is the first time Enid left you alone with Wednesday after she ran off like a leopard when Ajax suddenly asked her out. You didn’t want to leave Wednesday on her own just because Enid left. Hence, you stayed and waited until your best friend came back.
It was much quieter than the usual energetic night, but you nor Wednesday found the silence awkward. You two silently did your things as she dedicated an hour to her novel while casually having—well, trying to have small talks in between. Wednesday was not one to be disturbed while she wrote.
Thing was there to keep you company until Enid returned. He was an interesting fellow because he was only a hand, but he’s a sweetheart. You took selfies and played games on your phone with him until you two parted ways, as you scrolled on your social media while he read magazines from Enid’s shelf. You eventually fell asleep on your best friend’s bed after getting tired of not doing anything.
Wednesday didn’t notice your sleeping form until she had finished her hour of writing her novel. Thing even told her multiple times, but she ignored the poor appendage. After neatly stacking her finished pages in a pile, she looked at your figure, peacefully sleeping on her roommate’s bed as your chest rose and dropped with each breath.
She rose from her seat and approached you, making your soft snores audible to her ears. The bed dipped as she climbed on the bed to grab your unlocked phone to put it aside. Before she pressed the off button, she saw a selfie of you, Enid, and her winning the Allen Poe cup as your wallpaper. The smile she adores that adorned your face was so contagious it made her lips twitch upwards. She then closed your phone and placed it on Enid’s side table. 
Wednesday sat on the bedside and watched your sleeping figure—curled into fetus position—with soft eyes. She leaned in to kiss your forehead as if someone had controlled her body to do so. As soon as her lips touched your skin, you flinched awake as if you had a nightmare. 
Your instincts made you grip Wednesday’s shoulders and slam her onto Enid’s bed as you straddled her. You and Wednesday were caught off guard—eyes wide and huffing from the sudden actions as you looked at each other. You looked at her as if she was an assassin sent to kill you during your slumber, not your friend.
“How dare you,” you gritted as you looked down at her with stern eyes—an expression she hadn’t seen on your face before, catching her off guard again. It must’ve been because of the murderous intent that shone in your eyes as you looked at her. 
Wednesday thought you were always rainbows and butterflies, but she was mistaken. Everyone has a dark side buried within their hearts, and you only masked it with your joyful and innocent mask. She does want to see that side of you—how gruesome your other self was—but tonight was not the right time.
She tried to cup your cheek to get you out of your trance, but you gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head, burying them onto your best friend’s bed. Shen then huffed and called your name with tenderness without realizing it.
“Y/n L/n, calm down,” Wednesday muttered. Her voice snapped you out of your little world, and your eyes widened when you realized the position you forced upon you two. You quickly got off Wednesday and crossed your legs before her as she did the same. 
“Sorry. Instincts,” you muttered as you looked down, embarrassed by your sudden outburst. “Normies would sneak up on me and do bullshit during my sleep before I went to Nevermore—became a habit, y’know?”
You thought you stopped attacking people who touched you as you slept, but it seemed that Wednesday proved you wrong. You knew you, Thing, and Wednesday were the only ones in the dorm, so you didn’t need to react like that. 
Was it because her touch felt so foreign?—something you never thought she would do? Did you suddenly attack her because the chills you felt from the warm touch of her lips caught you off guard and made you think she was someone else?
“Trauma should be the right word,” Wednesday stated as she looked at you with her signature death stare before looking down to massage her wrists to release the tension from your death grip. “Do that again, and you will have to sleep with an eye open.”
“Very funny, Addams,” you chuckled before getting up from the bed to leave Enid and Wednesday’s dorm to head to your own since it was getting late. Enid must’ve lost track of time and forgotten how she left you in the dorm With Wednesday because of Ajax. “I’d like to see you try. It’d be a challenge for you since I barely sleep.”
“Where do you think you are going?” Wednesday asked as she raised a brow—eyes following your figure as you shuffled about to get out of bed. She can’t have you leave now that you two are alone for the first time without any prying eyes. She needed to do something before you retired to your dorm. “I don’t remember telling you to leave.”
You were taken aback by the tone of her voice, as it was something you’d never heard from her before. You two are constantly surprising each other, and you find that quite romantic. First, you catch her off guard with your outburst. Second, she surprises you with her unusual tone. 
“I don’t remember needing your permission to leave, Wednesday Addams,” you jokingly shot back as you returned to your sitting position on Enid’s bed. You cross your arms and lift your chin to look down at her to return her unspoken staring challenge. “I’m going to my dorm since it’s late. Why are you asking me to stay, hm? Longing-for-my-presence much?”
“Embrace me,” she simply states, making you choke on air from the sudden command. She looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you went on a coughing fit. “Don’t die a dull death, Y/n.”
“Y-You want ME to hug YOU?” you mumbled, flabbergasted, as you regained your composure—patting your chest as you did to help you breathe. “Never thought THE Wednesday Addams would request a hug from a plain, old me.”
“It was not a request. It was a command. I’m only doing this because it seems that I reawakened a trauma of yours. Consider it as returning what I owe you,” Wednesday glared as her arms slowly spread wide, expecting you to jump in her arms as you did with others. “Don’t sit there and wait until I change my mind.”
“Of course, of course, your highness,” you teased before approaching Wednesday. Your comment made her furrow her brows with discontent, and her arms fall to her sides. Your teasing went too far, it seems. “W-Wait! I was just joking!”
Wednesday had already gotten out of Enid’s bed as pleas spilled from your mouth. She looked down at you with a bitter expression—not that you could notice—before she spun on her heel to walk to her bed. Before she could take a step, you had stood on your knees on the bed and hugged her from behind, catching her off guard. She noticed it was different from your bone-crushing embraces as it was gentler, but she liked it.
“I got carried away,” you mumbled against Wednesday’s back as you wrapped your arms around her waist, securing her in place. Her hands gently held onto your hand, making you tighten your hold on her as you thought she was breaking free, but she didn’t. “You’re huggable material, Addams. It’s cute—you’re cute,” you chuckled, content with the embrace.
“Describe me with the word ‘cute’ again, and I will not hesitate to chop your tongue off with a butcher’s knife,” Wednesday muttered as she turned to face you, making your head press on her chest. She looked down at you and saw how you looked up at her with mischievous eyes as if you were content with irritating her. “You can let go now. It seems that your usual self is back.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m still traumatized, Wednesday,” you countered and buried your face further against her. She stiffly stood there as you hogged her body to yourself. She didn’t return the embrace, but you were grateful for the one-sided embrace as it was better than nothing. 
You basked in her coldness, but you could feel a slight warmth near her heart. It was comfortable, and you were happy. You two stayed in that position until you opened your eyes when an idea crossed your mind. You let her go to proceed with your plan, but you missed the slight scowl that painted her face.
“This sudden adrenaline rush won’t make me calm down easily. I command you to give me cuddles,” you huffed and pointed at her, then at Enid’s bed before laying down in a fetal position. “You’re the big spoon. Now, come,” you smiled as you patted the spot behind you. “This is part of what you owe me.”
Wednesday stood there like she was rethinking her life decisions by letting you embrace her. You simply lay there and waited for her to comply with your command. She huffed when you had no plans of changing your mind and proceeded to tuck herself into bed, not spooning you—laying on someone else’s bed was embarrassing enough for her.
“Suit yourself,” you huffed at her stubbornness, which you found cute, before succumbing to darkness again as all the adrenaline seeped out of your body as quickly as it came. 
After a few minutes, Wednesday laid on her other side to face your back, watching you sleep. You weren’t in a deep sleep Wednesday thinks because you were still aware of your surroundings. She eyed your sleeping figure before scooting closer and hesitantly draping an arm around your waist. 
At first, the position was awkward since Wednesday hadn’t embraced someone in bed before, but she got more comfortable when she relaxed her tense body since she found your warm soothing. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, basking in your soothing scent and lulling her to sleep. She can’t believe she’s letting her pride fail her for something as trivial as this.
“I knew you would cuddle me eventually,” you muttered, half-awake, making her slightly jolt. “You make a great big spoon, Wednesday. We should cuddle more.”
“Don’t make me change my mind,” Wednesday seethed, but you just lazily snuggled closer to her hold as you found comfort in her arms. She expected a comment, but you went back to sleep, content with the warmth of her body. “How rude,” she mumbled, a slight smile washing over her features before she followed you into the pit of darkness.
The rest of the night was peaceful as you and Wednesday slept on Enid’s bed. Wednesday had never had such a nice rest—almost cursing herself for letting her guard down during her sleep, unlike how she usually does. The dorm was unbothered because Enid had retired to Yoko’s dorm since her shared dorm was at the top of the floor. She couldn’t risk Ms. Thornhill catching her walking about in the hallways.
Unbeknownst to you, Enid almost lost her fingers the next day when she woke Wednesday with a snap of her phone camera as she attempted to take a picture of you and her roommate sleeping in a picture-worthy position. Your best friend could’ve also lost her feet if she didn’t comply with Wednesday’s command to delete the pictures of her camera roll. 
“Ajax declined her date offer,” Wednesday butted in when you asked Enid about her foul mood. However, the real reason why Enid was in a gloomy mood was that she couldn’t keep the cute pics of you and Wednesday peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms. Wednesday knew Enid would post it on her blog, so she had to threaten her to gatekeep your cuteness.
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© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.
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eddieboi23 · 1 year
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Future partner
Wednesday: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. 
Y/n: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* 
Wednesday: That one. I want that one.
Pt 2
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Text
Xavier Thorpe X  GN!Reader - Tied Up
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A/N - I was listening to a Deftones playlist, and my mind went to very unholy places, so I decided to write it (I already posted a version of this, but I didn’t like it so I rewrote it) enjoy (if u want me to finish this then submit an ask lol)
Warnings - it gets heated but no actual smut
THE BOOK IS CALLED ‘’JAY WISEMAN’S EROTIC BONDAGE HANDBOOK’’
DEFTONES S3X PLAYLIST (THE PLAYLIST IS NOT MINE, I FOUND IT AND I LOVED IT OK? DON’T JUDGE ME)
Seeing your boyfriend in chains definitely did something to your brain, but given the circumstances it was in, you didn't want to say anything since it could have been a tad bit traumatic, so you decided on dropping a hint about what you wanted. A big hint.
You had ordered a book. The erotic kind, to be precise. Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage handbook to be even more precise. Being an Addams, you already knew the basics to an extent, but decided on reading further into it, so as not to hurt your boyfriend if he decided he was into that.
A week after ordering it, it arrived, and you read it in less than a day. It was pretty interesting, but more importantly, full of tips, how-tos, and safety precautions one had to take.
You couldn't just blatantly give it to him in the middle of the pentagon-shaped courtyard, so you decided to change the covers of the book to those of a poetry book you took from the school library. To be honest, you've never even read the book, but it would have to do.
So on one chilly Friday, when you had bought the ropes and everything you might need, you set out to find Xavier and set your little plan into motion.
While you were walking down the stairs, you ran into your sister, Wednesday, who was probably going to her dorm since it was her writing hour. ''Hey sis, what a lovely afternoon, isn't it?'' You asked her, unusually happy, which made her raise her brow in question. ''Hi, it will be a lovely afternoon when a thunderstorm appears. What has gotten you in such a weird mood? Is it that poetry book you're carrying?'' She said in her usual monotone voice while trying to sneak a peak inside the book. ''Maybe, maybe not, enjoy writing your murder novels, I have shit to do'' You grinned, while walking away, leaving her to question if it was the book or something else, you're not usually THIS cheery.
You found Xavier in the courtyard, painting something on its walls as usual. He didn't notice you standing behind him and jumped a little bit when you wrapped your arms around his torso with a ''hi love'' to accompany your actions. ''Oh hey, what's up?'' he asked, putting one of his hands over yours while continuing his work on the wall. ''What are you painting? Another ''tortured artist'' work?'' You questioned with a small smirk playing on your lips. ''Ha ha, very funny. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?'' He retorted in a mock serious voice, while he was quite obviously grinning as much as you were.
You unwrapped your arms and moved so you were standing next to him before you said in a smug voice, ''I got you something, don't open it in front of people, love. Read it, alright?'' You handed him the book, which he took after cleaning his paint-stained hands with a small towel. ''Poetry? Why can't I open it in front of people? Did you write a murder plan in there or something?'' He joked after taking a look at the book. ''You'll see,'' You stated, and before you left to do your own thing, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips and sent him a wink, walking away. Curious as to what was so important about the book, he opened the first page, in which he found a note in your handwriting, '' When you read this and have decided if you're into it, find me in my dorm :))''. He took off the sticky note and looked at the title, which made him slightly blush since it read ''Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage Handbook''. He quickly shut the book and decided that he'll read it after he finished the painting. Xavier was intrigued, to say the least. Of course, you'd be into that, he thought with a slight chuckle.
It was very convenient since you didn't have a roommate and had a queen-sized bed with a metal headboard. You definitely didn't expect to see Xavier standing in your room that evening, dressed in grey sweatpants and one of your Metallica t-shirts.
''Hey, you.'' You said, walking to him and giving him a hello kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist. It looked like he was contemplating something, so you raised your brow in a questioning manner. You didn't even get to ask what was bothering him when he responded with a yes.
You had a confused look on your face when he let go of you and went to your bed to find something he had put there earlier. Xavier raised the disguised handbook and then handed it to you. ''Open it,'' He said. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on your bed, waiting.
You opened the book and found your note inside, but in addition to the original one, you found a ''yes'' scribbled under your text. You smiled, closed the book, and put it on your desk before going to sit beside him. ''Are you sure?'' You asked while moving strands of hair that had fallen into his face behind his ear. ''Yeah, I thought about it, and since you know what you're doing, at least I hope so,'' he chuckled while you grinned at him, '' I'm open to trying it.'' You didn't need any other confirmation. You smashed your lips onto his in a heated kiss, while he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. Testing the water, you lightly bit down on Xavier's lower lip. You could feel he was fighting against the noises that were creeping their way out of his throat. ''Wait, I forgot to lock the door, shit,'' He exaggeratedly whined when you got up, and let his back fall against the soft mattres of your bed. You quickly locked the door, checked that it was really locked, and turned on some music. Xavier recognized the playlist immediately, and he'd be lying if he said that it didn't turn him on. Before going back to him, you rummaged through your closet and pulled out a box in which the ropes you had previously bought were in. Xavier was watching your every move and you could feel his lustful gaze.
You carelessly dropped the ropes on your bed and got yourself comfortable in Xavier's lap. He raised his body to meet yours and kissed you again, this time it was a lot more passionate. Your mouth slowly opened up, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours. He didn’t notice it, but you had placed a hand on his neck, slowly moving it upward to grab a fistful of his hair and roughly pull on it. Xavier couldn't contain himself anymore and let out a low moan.
You smiled into the kiss and let your hands wander lower down his body, to the hem of the shirt, your shirt, that he'd been wearing, and helped him out of it. He let out a groan as the cold night air collided with his naked torso. You instructed him to move up against the headboard. Before you did anything, you reminded him of the safe words, green for go, yellow for pause, and red for immediate stopping.
After making sure he was comfortable, and you had scissors on your nightstand, you began to tie up his hands with the soft rope, carefully, not to restrict blood flow. While you were focused on the task at hand, Xavier began placing kisses on your neck. You yanked his hands back to tie them to the headboard, making his back hit the mattress again. He was slightly panting, his eyes full of want and need. You admired the sight before you, it wasn't a thing you see every day, but you already had the picture engraved in your mind. You lowered your head so you could kiss him again, your lips moving in sync. When you lifted your head, he whined at the loss of contact, but you were already moving lower, starting to attack his neck with hickeys that would be visible for a week at least. Xavier moaned softly when you found that one spot that felt the best and continued your work there. You were so caught up in the moment you almost didn't hear the two knocks on your door. You chose to ignore them, hoping the person would go away, but they didn't and continued knocking. ''For fucks sake,'' you whispered, annoyed at whoever was standing outside your dorm. What made you freeze in your place was the new principal's voice.
''Turn that music down. I have received complaints about the noise from other students,'' She tried to shout over the Deftones song playing in the background. You cleared your throat and yelled '' Sorry, I'll turn it down.'' ''You better, and if I hear another complaint about it, I'll make sure you can't play that music at all.'' She hollered, irritated since it wasn't the first time you'd done this.
You made your way to the speaker and turned the music down a little bit, so it wasn't too loud, but loud enough. ''Now, where were we?'' You turned to Xavier, still tied up on your bed, watching you, lips slightly parted, waiting for your next move.
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pandorascripts · 1 year
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heyyy :) can i request wednesday x reader where she sneaks into wednesdays room to sleepover and enid was sleeping in yokos room for the night and forgot smth and went back to their dorm and walks in on them making out?
fugly slut
summary: enid catches her OTP (who said they weren’t together) snogging. she’s pissed and had Mean Girls on her mind.
warnings: making out, wee bit spicy, swearing
paring: wednesday addams x reader
note: written quickly, proof read a bit, not sure if there’s any mistakes :^
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You watch as Enid’s retreating form bounces merrily off the walls. Wednesday had told you to come over tonight, it’d be safe seeing as her roommate was crashing with a friend. Most people would’ve told you that it’s a bad thing to go into a relationship and hiding it, but seeing as you and Wednesday are academic rivals, the two of you don’t want the school knowing. 
You tap on the door four times, letting Wednesday know it was safe, and a second later you’re dragged through. A rough yelp is muffled as Wednesday presses her lips against yours, her left hand fumbling to lock the door.
You hold her head with both hands, pressing her back into yourself. With the door now locked, Wednesday grabs your hips, hiking your shirt upwards. She doesn’t take it off, much to your dismay, instead she pushes you around and against a wall. 
“No one likes a tease, Wednesday,” you whisper, donning an uncontrollable smirk.
“You’ll get what you want in due time, no need to be greedy.”
You chuckle, although it doesn’t last long. With Wednesday’s lips now on your neck your laugh dies out, a shaky sigh taking place. Featherlight lips make their way down, pressing into the small portion of your shoulder that was exposed. 
Wednesday’s hands grab your shirt, lifting it up and off, before quickly attaching her lips to yours again. Your hands grab Wednesday’s jacket, wanting it off as well, but then the worst thing you could imagine happens. 
The door opens. 
Enid liked to say she loved people. She loved how no matter how moody or damaged they were, there was always an innocent soul underneath. No one was truly evil, no one truly wanted to hurt others, they had unfortunate incidents in their lives in which cause them to act accordingly. 
But as Enid walked into her dorm, after forgetting a blanket, and saw her two best friends, who had both assured Enid they despised each other, making out, she realized people were liars. They were crude, and pests, and no one deserved to be on this Earth. Liars suck, and a thought crossed her mind. That thought happened to be a line from Mean Girls.
“You are the nastiest skank bitch I’ve ever met!” she shouts, stomping over. “You two told me you weren’t screwing!”
Wednesday takes off her jacket, handing to you so you were at least decent for this conversation. 
“Enid —“
“No! I’ve been trying for months to get you two together, and you don’t even tell me when it happens? What am I, chopped liver?”
“We’re trying to keep it on the down low, Enid,” you speak up, looking charmingly disheveled.
Enid’s eyes flicker away from Wednesday’s settling on yours. “You told me you’d rather die than get with Wednesday.”
You shrug. “I’d rather die than do anything, really.”
“Not helping!” Wednesday whisper shouts, looking over to you. In a much more hushed tone, she says, “You look very attractive in my clothing. Look through my closet later.”
An angry grunt from Enid cuts off your reply, your smirk dropping as you stare at your socks. 
“I hate the both of you.”
“Enid, I’ll buy you that Squishmallow you’ve been begging for if you go back to Yoko’s.” Wednesday turns to you, out of sight from Enid, and winks. 
“Really?! OH-EM-GEE!” she squeals, rushing up to Wednesday as she hugs her. “I love you. Alls forgiven, be gay do crime!” 
With that, Enid leaves the room, waking all of Ophelia Hall with her screams.
You lean back against the wall, sighing. 
“Well.” You pout, night spoiled and one more person knowing your secret. 
Wednesday walks up to you, the devilish smile you love so much and the mischievous glint in her eyes back again.
“Well, the dog has left, and we’ve got this huge dorm to ourselves…”
Wednesday’s hand brushes against your arm as she rests it on your bicep. Her other hand holds your waist. 
“And you look so incredible in my clothes.”
You smile, leaning down into her face. Neither of you say anything, sharing hot breaths and mischievous smiles. With your lips practically against hers, you know damn well what she’s thinking. 
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woewriting · 6 months
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CHERRY LIPS wednesday addams x reader
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tags. mdni! soft wednesday, established relationship, implied sex at the very end, no pronouns used, but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. word count. 1521 a/n. i'm late for wdw, i know, but i couldn't let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right? i hope you like it and im sorry for any mistakes. | masterlist
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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 a killer.”
“Imagine being the daughter of a former police officer who was expelled from the police force for not being able to solve a simple case that happened more than 20 years ago.” The tranquil voice caught your attention, causing you to turn on your heels behind the counter.
Wednesday was standing next to the table where the two students sat, arms crossed and a deadly shine in her eyes. You smiled.
“Miss Addams, please stop terrorizing the small girls, they know nothing about life,” you spoke once you saw the reddish color in the girls’ cheeks.
“They better learn fast; life is not gentle.” She turned her head to you. “And neither am I.”
“Oh, should I fear for my life?”
You tilted your head, trying to get Wednesday’s attention in order for the girls to go back to the other students of Nevermore. The raven girl redirected her body towards you, taking steps until she was standing in front of the cashier.
“You most definitely should.”
Head motioning for the girls to leave, you placed both of your hands on the icy, black marble that covered the top of the counter.
“If I die, who’s going to make you your favorite cherry muffin?”
“Before I met you, I survived just fine without the sweetness of it in my daily life, I’m positive I can do it again once you’re gone.” She lifted her chin. “Now stop staling and bring me a double 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 surrounding area of her cheek bones.
She was polite and calm, unlike the others, speaking in a monotone voice that actually surprised you.
Wednesday ordered a small size 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 in the woods on Saturday, the captain assumed I’d be interested and gave me the case this morning.”
You pursed your lips, a tight knot in your stomach as your eyes analyzed the super graphic images that decorated the table. Pushing the images away from your point of view, you wondered how Wednesday could eat the red-blooded muffin while looking at actual blood.
As if she could read your mind, black painted nails reached for the small cake, her eyebrows sewing together once she saw what you did, “Care to explain what this is?”
You pursed your lips, containing a smile. On top of the sweet, a white skeleton’s head was drawn, black, deep-hollowed eyes filled with dark chocolate chips with a sewed-like smile under and dark red blood dripping from its eyes.
“I made it for you, Halloween is near, and I figured you’d like it.”
“I can see that. What I want you to explain is why there’s blood coming from its eyes. Bones can’t bleed, there’s no tissue that can carry blood vessels or veins, it's just bones.”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s a cupcake, Wens. Just eat it.”
“Fine.”
When she took the first bite, dark red filling dripped onto her hands. It was a mix between the sweetness of sugar and the sourness of cherry combined that only you could do it perfectly.
“So… did you like it?”
Wednesday chewed and swallowed everything, licking her lips to capture the remained syrup, missing a small drop on the corner of her mouth. The tip of her fingers covered in the cherry liquid.
“It’s too sweet, next time don’t add any sugar to it. It’s not healthy. And it’s also too sticky and messy. I need a napkin.”
Reaching out for her hand, you sucked the tip of her fingers, closing your eyes at the sweetness that filled your mouth.
“You don’t need a napkin, you have a girlfriend to clean it for you.”
Wednesday widened her eyes at your action, looking around to make sure nobody saw that. The coffee shop was empty as it was almost noon and everyone was either at work or at school, only the two of you occupying a space inside.
“That was unnecessary.” She said with an affected tone.
“It was very necessary, I needed to see if it was too sweet.” You stood up, taking the empty plate in hands. Before returning to the kitchen, you leaned into her personal space, noses touching and the smell of her perfume filling your senses, that small drop being the only thing you saw in front of you. “You have some here too.”
The moment the tip of your tongue licked the red syrup, so close to her lips, Wednesday grabbed the mug near her hands, squeezing it hard enough to break if it was made of fragile material.
Before standing up properly, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, tasting the sourness in it.
“I’ll make sure the next ones aren’t too sweet for you, cara mia.” You winked, rapidly walking back to the counter to start preparing the muffins for the afternoon clients. And for your bitter girlfriend that cursed you under her breath for fogging up her brain with your tongue, taking away all the concentration she needed to solve this murder case. One that would need to wait after she locked the door, turned the open sign to ‘closed’, and dragged you by the hand to the supply closet.
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teaaagan · 8 months
Text
No
Yoko: Wednesday, can you...? 
Wednesday: No, sorry. I'm busy
Y/N: *walks into the room* Wends, can you...?
Wednesday: Yes, of course
Yoko: You have got be kidding me!
Enid: Seriously?! What did you expect? wednesday is physically unable to say 'No' to Y/N
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