#wednesday addams request

[fleetingvow]

may you please do Wednesday comforting a reader after a nightmare? maybe the reader got attacked by the hyde and it won't leave her mind so she often gets plagued by nightmares

‘ DEAD OF NIGHT .

Wednesday Addams x Female Reader.

SYNOPSIS. in which you and wednesday open up to each other as comfort after you woke up from a nightmare, replaying the moments in the forest when the hyde attacked you not so long ago. ( 3.02k words )

WARNINGS. slight angst. unproofread. spoilers to those who haven’t finished the series yet. english is not the author’s first language.

NOTE. written in second person’s point of view. wednesday being an absolute in-denial simp cult-leader slash worshipper of the reader. teotfw reference.

REQUESTED BY. anonymous. thank you so much for sending a request! i hope you enjoy!

TABLE OF CONTENTS. you can find my masterlist by clicking this link. my requests are open, so feel free to send in anything you want me to write.

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗦 and a swipe on the door and Wednesday immediately knew. She stood up from her chair to open the door that creaked as she did so, and there you were in all your grace, looking pale and dead. A sight for sore eyes yet certainly unwell. Who wouldn’t be if they were mad enough to ask to leave the ICU before being completely healed?

She arched an eyebrow in question, watching as you scanned the room behind her and the empty corridors of Ophelia Hall.

“Can I stay here for the night?” You asked, slightly shivering from the cold in your dark red pyjamas. She looked at you from head to toe, furrowing her eyebrows when she noticed how exhausted you looked, even with your posture.

Wednesday only nodded quietly before making room for you to walk in, making your way silently to the bed, and cautious not to wake Enid from her needed slumber on the other side of the dorm. She shut the door and turned to you, not moving from her spot.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” you mumbled. “As to why I’m here.” You sat on the foot of the bed, meeting her gaze.

“Don’t.” She replied. The wood creaked underneath her as she walked towards the dark wooden closet that almost resembled a coffin — almost. Her next move bewildered you as she grabbed a black jacket from her wardrobe and gave it to you without another word.

She resorted to her typewriter, typing away as you reluctantly slipped the jacket on your body, providing you the perfect warmth after a chilling moment alone in the corridors. “You’re putting extra time on your novel,” you mumbled as you fixed the sleeves, looking away from the girl in pigtails.

“You’re frustrated. Why?” You added.

“I doubt Enid would appreciate your talking at this hour.”

You knew Wednesday wasn’t expressive, especially in a vocal way that required her to tell you. However, being with Wednesday ever since she got to Nevermore, you couldn’t help but notice her habits. You kept track of sudden mood shifts. She rarely smiled, and if she did, it was because she’d seen something psychotic, especially when it’s her own doing.

You’d notice how her eyebrow would twitch when she’s confused, how her eyes would narrow slightly when she’s annoyed, how she’d look at a person’s forehead to make them uncomfortable enough to leave her be, and above all, the way she’d go past an hour doing her novel when she’s enjoying it or when she’s aggravated.

“Wednesday, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

‘And look pathetic?’ Wednesday thought. She’d rather swallow a knife than speak of her emotions. It was an unnecessary human trait to depend on another when they feel. So no, no matter what you did, she won’t. At least not now and not sooner when you clearly currently look like you haven’t slept for so long.

“I’m enjoying my novel.” She turned to you and mumbled in a low voice, “Now go to sleep before I kick you out for disturbing my peace.”

This was the most hesitant you got with Wednesday. It was as clear as day that she was bothered by something and you still don’t know what it was, but you couldn’t think of anything better to say as your head became fuzzy with clouded thoughts of wanting to go back to sleep. There was just one little conflict, although to test your theory, you required a little rest.

So the next thing? You dozed off in her bed in your red pyjamas and her black oversized jacket, neglecting the blanket that was wrinkled by your movements.

She returned to her work for half an hour. Although, not as concentrated as she was before.

Wednesday wasn’t sure why she couldn’t let herself near you. Maybe because she was the reason for the injury that she knew you hid under your shirt. She was destined to bring the whole school down, and she didn’t know the intentions that she could have. The more she found out, the more she knew so little, because the sight of you slipping away not so long ago already made her stomach churn. What more? Destroying the school that you loved and she despised?

The girl stood up silently from her place before the noisy typewriter and sat down on the floor, next to the bed where you slept on her side. She stared, almost stalking you, but without any psychotic motive. More like she was examining you, whether you were real or you were just some type of illusion created at the back of her mind where she secretly wished to be understood.

She wondered how someone like you existed. You were far too flawless although annoying to be in a world full of lies and deception. She believed life to be a masked torturer, a grim canvas painted with colours to hide the fact that it was out to get every living thing on Earth. She loved it, but the fact that it was not enough to keep you safe made her indecisive whether she should adore lies.

Wednesday found herself lying on the floor, staring at your hand that hung off the side of the bed. She remembered the last time she saw your hand like that, unconscious and rested.

It was the night she saw you in the woods, your fingers stained with your own blood, and your eyes closed like you weren’t going to wake up again for the next century. She recalled the worry, the guilt, the anger, and the fear that took over the bones of her body when you didn’t answer her call for your name.

It was her fault, although you didn’t seem to acknowledge that.

Was she allowed to touch you? Was she even allowed to set eyes upon you at all, knowing she was the reason for your suffering?

Wednesday leisurely lifted her index finger to touch your hands, slowly, gently, like a predator stalking its prey. The sensation was new to her.

And when your fingers met, she felt like touching the underworld’s divinity when fireworks started crackling at the tip of her black painted nails. Being close to you was one thing, but touching you, she was sure she’d burn like the witches at the stake in front of the grinning pilgrims.

That was when the sensation of being electrocuted to death started surging through their skin as her head lifted, seeing yet another vision — but not a premonition.

It was you in your uniform, running through the woods to look for a sense of comfort to console your anger after your fight with Wednesday. However, the vision skipped to an image of you, holding your head like it would split into two. Then again, where you woke up from a moment of silence to the sight of the monster that threw you back against a tree and swung its claws on your skin, leaving you to bleed out to your death.

She pulled out of the vision, only to find herself again on the floor but without your hand hanging off the bed. Wednesday heard your deep breathless exhales, the heaving of your chest, and the rustles of the sheets. She quickly sat up from where she lied and turned to look at you, your eyes furrowed as if you were about to break.

The beads of sweat on your forehead didn’t go unnoticed. Your hair was almost wet from the sweat that had formed on your body. The temperature in the room decreased more but your sweat only got worse as the tension heightened when she watched you try to recover from your moment of vulnerability.

Like Wednesday, you acted tough, but you were easier to crack than she was. You looked away in embarrassment, and wiped the sweat on your face with the sleeves of her jacket. “Sorry, I just — I dreamt of something.”

Once you didn’t hear a response, you looked at her and then, something clicked. “What are you doing on the floor?”

She checked herself and stood up to brush it off. Then, she awkwardly stood there in front of you, examining you again, but you weren’t sure why her gaze felt softer than her usual one.

“Wednesday?” You called.

“I saw a vision,” she mumbled. “When I touched your hand, I saw your attack.” She tilted her head, “You never told me about your attack.”

You winced. Wednesday caught this. Of course, it would take a reaction out of you. It was your scar, and now that she picked on it, it started to bleed again. Not like it hasn’t been bleeding before. Of course not. Of course.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t keep running away from it.”

That annoyed you, but you knew she was right. You had to share it with someone, no matter how much it opened a scar. You sighed in defeat, “I don’t want to tell anyone because I keep seeing it when I close my eyes. It makes me feel so— weak.”

Wednesday walked to the other side of the room to get the box of tissue on Enid’s drawer. She then went back to you, kneeling on the bed right in front of you. You were taken by surprise when she started dabbing your forehead with the tissue to dry your cold sweat. Her eyes focused on it as she listened.

“I was in that part of the woods when I had a premonition. It was messy, but it was clear that it led to the monster.” She stopped as you mentioned the cause of her lost concentration. “I guess I almost saw who it involved, but I pulled out of it when I heard a noise, and the next thing I know, I’m—” You swallowed the lump on your throat. You didn’t continue because you were sure you would humiliate yourself in front of her if you start becoming more pitiful than you already were.

“You were at death’s door,” she finished your sentence for you. You nodded, only this time, you couldn’t hold back your moment of weakness. You looked down in a pathetic manner to hide your glossy eyes and puffy appearance, blinking numerously in an attempt to shy it away.

“Wednesday, the vision you had, that was my nightmare,” you confessed as you lifted your head up. “I always see it every time I go to sleep.”

She didn’t know how to console you. All she knew was that she wanted to, but how? You weren’t Pugsley who would take an axe as a gift of consolation. Wednesday wiped the remainder of sweat on your neck, discarding the tissue to the trashcan after.

She hated the weakness you were showing as much as you do.

“I want it to go away.”

“I will put an end to it.” Wednesday replied. “I swear on my dead youth.”

“How? You don’t even know what it wants.”

“Let me do what I do best.”

You nodded at that. Wednesday put the box of tissue on the nightstand and slid out of the bed when you grabbed her wrist to stop her, making her urgently turn her head to you.

“Stay.”

“Can’t you sleep on your own?”

“Wednesday,” you gave her a look. She only stared at you in response, reading the expression you wore on your face. She found it desperate, but what else could she do? Staying with you tonight on her bed was the only thing she could do to make it up to you.

You lied down just as she did, in awkward silence. You both glanced at each other before turning your full attention to the ceiling. Her arms were crossed on her chest, so still. You found it amusing enough for it to put a smile on your face. You turned to the other side, looking away from her in an attempt to sleep.

However, it went like that for a couple of minutes before you realised you weren’t going to doze off anytime soon. “Wednesday?” You checked if she was still awake.

“What?” Although her voice sounded grumpy, you tolerated it.

“Could you,” you hesitated again. “Could you hold me?”

She looked at your back facing her, furrowing her eyebrows. What was this feeling again? Now you were asking her to touch you when a few minutes ago, she thought she didn’t deserve to even be in the same room as you.

She wanted to scream at herself for breaking the vow of not wanting to get involved in any romantic shenanigans, but here she was, slowly and incredulously positioning herself to hold you. She didn’t even know if she was doing it right. She was too careful not to touch anything, but what was the sense of avoiding it if it was the point of holding you?

She awkwardly placed her arm around you, resulting in you holding a smile back. You could have sworn you heard her heartbeat, but it was futile to keep thinking about it when she was this close.

“Do you want to tell me why you were typing away angrily earlier?”

“You’re already getting too comfortable.”

“You should take it as an example.” You retorted. There was no winning with you, was there? “Think of it as a bedtime story to put me to sleep, and I won’t be your problem any longer.”

“You’d exchange an opportunity to hear a Disney Princess story for a grim, depressing, and lethal sob story of an explanation as to why I spent some extra time on my novel?”

You nodded and turned to face her, “Turn around.” She did after yet another complaint. Wednesday was as stiff as an alligator in a swamp, acting like a log to wait for the right moment to pounce on its prey. “Is this okay?”

She nodded. It was your turn to wrap an arm around her. She wasn’t sure why she was letting you do this, but even despite her desire to say no, having you this close was rare and she intended to feel the feeling it constantly gave her.

“I hate that I’m letting you do this.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the only thing you hate about me, Wednesday. It doesn’t come as a surprise anymore.” You mumbled.

“I hate that I fall for this. I don’t even want to tell you anything.”

“But here I am, encouraging you to tell me everything.”

“I hate telling other people my,” the corners of her lips twitched at the word, “Feelings. I hate even telling it to you, out of all the people I can share it with.” You secretly loved the way her words spoke a degree of emotion despite it being emotionless. It was so like Wednesday. Your Wednesday. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever come across.”

You nodded, and then, she continued, “Sharing my feelings feels pathetic. Like I’m dependent on you, and I don’t have what it takes to live alone when in fact, I do. I’m supposed to be solitary. I have the faintest idea why this school is so obsessed with having someone to rely on. Being in this position with you, I’ve never felt so pathetic and vulnerable before. I strongly dislike it. You're making me put my guard down, and I hate the fact that even if you’re not aware, the day I found you in the woods all bloodied, I was . . . scared. Angry because I finally cared. It was my fault. I’m sure it’s off-putting to you.”

You hummed, “No, not really. You have the kind of attachment that isn’t as brittle and sweet as a sugar under heat and pressure. It’s tough. Something that goes above and beyond. Roses have thorns, but really, I want the stem. The stem has spikes, and I'm willing to bleed for it.”

“You’re horrible at giving metaphors.”

You chuckled. “What else do you hate about me, Wednesday Addams?”

“Besides your horrid metaphors, I hate you the most.” She turned to you this time, meeting your face just a smidge away. She looked at you, up and down. Wednesday was never this affectionate, but tonight, she reached a hand to your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing your eyebrow the next.

No one has ever seen this side of Wednesday but you. You weren’t complaining. You loved the thrill of having her accompany you alone, guessing if this is the moment she’d stab a knife straight through your heart or touch you.

“Do me a favour,” Wednesday suddenly said. “Have more nightmares and get scared more often.”

Her flirting skills need a little more work, but sure, if it meant being this close to her, you’d do anything.

Maybe on certain occasions, Wednesday could allow herself to let loose. Now she saw the bigger picture.

She didn’t mind looking pathetic, as long as it was with you.

There you lay together on the bed, looking like a couple of lifeless corpses in William Shakespeare’s most tragical romance. But could Romeo and Juliet do you any justice? Wednesday wouldn’t think so. Her eyes were wide open as you slept, thinking about what had happened.

She listened to your light snores, and watched as your chest moved up and down. Then, it was your heartbeat.

She didn’t need to look at you or watch as you slept in the dead of night just to make sure you were away from the nightmares coming to haunt you again or that you were not a nightshade delusion caused by the insanity brought by the school.

Are you sleeping well now? Will you wake up in your cold sweat again? She was prepared to tell you the long list of the things she hated about you if you shot up from the bed, gasping for air again.

But, there you were.

You were present. You were there. The daydream in the nightmare she sometimes wished for, and oftentimes, dreaded.

“I’m the most pathetic Addams to ever live because of you.”

[simp4wom3n]

Ask Percy

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x singer!Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request

Summary: After filming, Jenna and Percy had become close, too close. Jenna started ditching plans with Y/n for Percy, causing Y/n to finally breakdown before they left on a month long tour. ~ Word Count: 4.024k ~ Warnings: swearing and quite angstyyy

A/N: Hi!! I actually loved writing this sm idek why. It is a majority angst with a happy ending because I will always avoid completely breaking someones heart x. Either way I hope you enjoy it <3

It wasn't often you got jealous, but when you have practically been replaced and deprived of spending the time you so craved with your girlfriend, the feeling was inevitable.

You and Jenna's schedules often meant that you had to spend long times apart from one another, which whilst it did put a strain on your relationship, it meant you would always spend every ounce of your free time together.

That had apparently changed.

Like today.

You were due to leave on tour in a few days, and the only thing you wanted to do was spend time with your girlfriend before you left for over a month. Yet as you sat at home, alone, with nothing better to do than pack your bags, it was obvious her priorities weren't the same as yours. Where was she you may ask? ask Percy.

Percy Hynes White, her costar and new best friend apparently. Ever since the two of them had wrapped filming 'Wednesday', they were practically attached at the hip, as Jenna's free time, which used to almost entirely consist of you, now predominantly consisted of Percy.

You had nothing against the guy. You had met him a few times and you could see why Jenna liked him. He was funny, charismatic, and just an overall kind person at heart. All the attributes that make him equally as terrifying to you, because as you saw it, it gave him the ability to sweep your girlfriend from right under you feet.

A slew of self-deprecating thoughts had been racing through your mind all day, leaving your girlfriend as your last resort in order to avoid a full-fledged breakdown. You just wished you had told her how you were feeling sooner because it felt like shite. Every time she left you alone for him, every time she told you a story about the two of them, every time her eyes lit up at the mention of his name, it felt like someone was slowly hacking away at your heart, each crack and break as slow and painful as the last.

Assuming Jenna would be home for dinner, you decided to try to unwind by cooking for just the two of you. You had always adored cooking and it was something the two of you often did together. Hence, whilst you were skilfully moving around the kitchen listening to music, a small smile grew on you face at the thought of your shared activities.

After finishing plating all the food and cleaning the kitchen, you grab your phone and noticed a new message from Jenna, instinctively causing your eyes to widen in excitement. The slight smirk that had made its way onto your face was soon washed away as it felt as if you were hit with a tidal wave as you read the message.

"Staying over at Percy's. Don't bother waiting up for me."

The colour dropped from your face as you lowered your phone in disbelief. You slumped against the countertop as all the noise around you faded, becoming an insistent buzz. 'Are you fucking kidding me' you thought as your disbelief soon turned into anger - you had officially been replaced. Dropping you phone on the bench, your fingers curl up tightly as your fists clench, your knuckles turning ghastly white as you hunch forward. You grunt as you let your back hits the wall, sliding down your kitchen cupboards until you come to a stop when you meet the floor. Your tense body goes limp as you sit there, tears starting to stream down your face as sobs begin escaping your throat.

You couldn't believe it. You were leaving in a few days and would be gone for over a month, and she didn't even have the decency to spend the time with you that you had begged her for. You felt nothing but disbelief as you brought your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as your sobs ceased, no longer bothering to feel the pain.

For once you felt almost excited to leave.

With all of your excitement and hope drained from your now exhausted body, you slowly stood up from your slumped position and grabbed your phone with your eyes and cheeks painted red from your tears and made your way to your bedroom. With the meal you had prepared going cold on the dining table, you stripped and changed into some more comfortable clothes before turning off the lights and collapsing into your bed.

As you laid your head on the pillow, your senses were instantly filled with her scent, her absence deepening the cracks in your already wounded heart. With exhaustion hot on your tail, you plugged in and opened your phone, the message reappearing as you rub your eyes to try and contain your tears.

"Ok"

You didn't have the energy to argue, or to get mad. At this point you had accepted your fate. If she wanted to be with Percy and not you than that was her choice. You just had to deal with it.

As Jenna got home late the next morning, it was eerily quiet. The usual echo of positivity that followed you everywhere you went was missing; instead, the energy felt bitter, which immediately concerned her. As she put her stuff down and walked further into the apartment, her eyes scanned your usual spots until she caught a glimpse of you, curled up in a chair on your small balcony, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands.

You had been sat there all morning just attempting to take your mind off of Jenna - which proved to be impossibly hard. As you sat still and moped, you watched as people, and painfully couples, went about their business on the city's busy streets. The sound of the balcony door opening didn't even phase you as your attention remained anywhere but on the person you knew was looking at you with querying eyes.

"What's going on?" Jenna asked as she made her way into your line of sight, instantly causing your eyes to burn with tears. "Nothing" you responded coldly as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "Is something wrong" you didn't respond, instead avoiding her stare as you stood up and briskly made your way inside. "Y/n? Hello?". Still no response. "Why are you ignoring me". You scoff at her choice of wording. "Why am I ignoring you?" you ask incredulously as she looks at you confused. "I'm the one who has been sat here, patiently waiting for you to come home and finally acknowledge my existence"

You can see that Jenna is taken back by your sudden outburst as she takes a few seconds to come back with a response. "I... what do you mean? am I not allowed to spend time with my friends or something?" "Of course you are!" your voice breaks as you cry "I understand that and I have been so patient... I was happy to let you do your thing as long as you at least came home to me. You deprived me of the one thing I asked for and all for fucking Percy.". You can't help but feel bad for getting mad at her, but at this point your emotional pillage is coming pouring out whether you like it or not.

"I don't get why you are so mad! Just because your my girlfriend doesn't mean I have to spend every waking hour with you!" "Because I'm leaving for over a fucking month tomorrow and you don't even care!" At this point your tears are streaming down your cheeks as your chest aches. Running her hand through her hair, Jenna turns her back to you as she takes a deep breath. "Jesus fucking christ Y/n. Maybe I should date Percy." Your head snaps up as your eyes widen and brows furrow.

"What..." you brokenly whisper. "Maybe I should date fucking Percy Y/n... does that make you feel better?!?" turning around to meet your eyes, hers looking dead serious, terrifying you. "Your joking right?" you practically beg as your arms slowly wrap around your torso as you seek any kind of comfort. "Am I? Because after this fiasco I'd bet he'd be a better partner."

At that your heart shatters. Any last ounce of hope you had left was thrown out the window. "Right" you nod swiftly, biting you lip in an attempt to contain your sobs. "I guess I won't get in your way then". Walking towards your front door, you slip on some shoes and a coat open the door. With tears still running down your face, you look back at Jenna who remains frozen to her spot, one hand on her forehead and the other on her hip, before she turns and walks away from you.

You were secretly hoping she would stop you from leaving yet here you were, one foot already out the door. With a sigh you grab your keys before locking the door behind you. Your destination? you had no idea. All you knew was anywhere but here.

The sun had set hours ago and you were yet to come home. Jenna tried to act like she didn't care, seeing as she was the reason you left, but her attempts to distract herself were futile as you were at the forefront of her mind - admittedly for the first time in a while.

She jumped slightly as she heard the front door swing open, her eyes immediately darting in its direction. You entered silently with slumped shoulders, discarding your coat and keys as you slip off your shoes. You glance at Jenna with a neutral expression on your face before you walk towards your bedroom. "Where have you been?" despite feeling she had no right to ask, she still cared about you whether you believed it or not. "Why the fuck do you care" you reply coldly as you walk straight past her without uttering another word, Jenna sighing softly as the weight of what she said to you sinks in.

You were hurting and it was her fault.

She decides to give you a few minutes by yourself, also not particularly keen to face you after your earlier screaming match. She eventually follows you to the bedroom where she finds you curled up on your side of the bed, completely silent and still. "Y/n?" she gently whispers as she enters the room, receiving no response in return, leading her to presume you were asleep.

But how could you be? Since you left, you had spent the remainder of the day walking aimlessly, making a few pitstops at your favourite places to try and entertain yourself and help get your mind off of your (ex?) girlfriend. So sure, you were tired. Yet the moment you set foot back into your apartment, your mind transformed back into a racing track as all of your thoughts competed for your attention - and yet you didn't want to pay attention to any of them.

So here you lay in complete silence, your mind blank, attempting to ignore Jenna's warm presence besides you. You heard her whisper your name yet you had absolutely no desire to look at her, let alone speak to her. So, as you felt her get in bed beside you, an uncomfortable amount of space between your two typically entwined bodies, you stared at the wall in front of you until you were eventually overwhelmed with exhaustion.

As streaks of sunlight sneak through the small gaps between the dark curtains, Jenna stirs awake, exhaling as she rubs her eyes in an attempt to rid the evidence of her sleepless night. As she rolls onto her back she is suddenly aware of the lack of your presence, your side of the bed left empty and cold. As she warily pushes herself up, she notices a number of draws open, causing her brows to furrow in confusion as she pushes the bed covers off and swings her legs off the bed.

Gently standing up, her hands running through her hair in an attempt to tame it, she walks tentatively out the open bedroom door. As she makes her way through your apartment, her eyes widen as she notices a number of packed bags by the doorway. 'Is she leaving me' is the thought running through her head as she starts to search the apartment more desperately, eventually locating you on the balcony - apparently your new place of comfort.

"Your leaving?" are the first words that leave her mouth as she joins you on said balcony. Currently leaning on the railing peacefully admiring the cityscape, you scoff as you turn your head towards her, a look of disbelief and disappointment on your face. "Seriously?". You realise she clearly hadn't remembered causing you chuckle in disbelief as you turn around, resting your back on the railing. "My tour?" It dawns on her as the colour drains from her face, a look of embarrassment spreading quickly. "Yeah that little old thing. I don't even know why I'm surprised you forgot." Scoffing again you walk past her, gently bumping into her as you make your way to the front door.

"Y/n wait" Jenna calls out to you, hot on your tail as you choose to ignore her. As you reach your bags and start putting some on, she attempts to stop you as she grabs ahold of your arm and forces you to face her. Despite the past few days, her touch still sends shivers down your spine as you inhale sharply whilst you look at her blankly, her eyes pleading with you to stay. "There's a car waiting for me Jenna. I have to go." you speak softly as you gently pry her hand off of your arm, turning back around to open the door.

She is frozen to the spot, unable to speak as her eyes begin to brim with tears. She wraps herself in a hug as she watches you collect your bags, her right hand coming up to cover her mouth in an attempt to keep her sobs at bay. As you take a step out the door, you look over your shoulder with solemn eyes as you reach for the handle. "Goodbye Jenna." you whisper, a slight break in your voice which you attempt to conceal. You give her one last soft smirk as you close the door.

Goodbye... you said goodbye. Not see you later, but goodbye. 'Fuck' Jenna mutters as the door locks, attempting to blink away her tears as she turns away in shock. Her breathing is uneven as she soaks in everything that has happened over the past 24 hours. Her seemingly perfect world had erupted into pure chaos. Whilst there was still a part of her that was denying it, she knew it was her fault.

You were her girlfriend, the love of her life, and she blew you off as if you were completely unimportant and irrelevant. Her emotions were drowning her as she collapsed on the couch, her head resting on her hands as her tears continued to stream from her eyes. Her own words echoed in her head as her life continued to come crashing down on her. She had fucked up. Badly.

She had to make it up to you. She had to see you.

The barren and monotonous landscape that surrounded the highway sped past you as you stared out the window of your tour bus. Your thoughts matching the whirring of the outside world as you attempt to drain them out with your music blasting in your noise-cancelling headphones.

Jenna. She was all you could think about. No matter what you saw, whether it be a sign to a place you had visited or an advertisement for one of her many projects, and no matter what song you listened to, whether it was one that reminded you of her or that you often listened to together, it was all about her.

Ever since you met Jenna, you knew she was the one. You had no other way of describing it, you just knew. Everything about her was perfect. The two of you complimented each other perfectly and she had instantly become your best friend before you grew the guts to ask her out - easily the best decision you had ever made.

Yet as you thought back on all of this, you couldn't help the tears that fell. You truly had believed that she was the one. Not only was she the best girlfriend you could ever have asked for, but she was also your best friend. And yet, it would appear you have been replaced in both categories.

So, as you sat alone in a bus full of your bandmates, the landscape flashing past reflecting how your relationship similarly flew by, you hastily wiped the tears that had fallen upon your cheeks as you leant back in your chair accepting what you had believed to be true.

You had lost your everything.

The cheers of the crowd is echoing in your ears as you aimlessly pace around backstage. The first concert of a tour was always the most daunting, yet this one was easily the most terrifying as you brain continued to run a million miles a minute. With your music beginning to play and getting the signal to walk on, you suck in one last breath before you stride out on to the stage, a large smile plastered on your face - fake or real? you had no idea

As you sung your usual setlist, it proved to thankfully be a great distraction from the thoughts and emotions that awaited you off the stage.

The audience erupted in loud cheers as the beginning of one of your hit songs, 'Romantic Homicide', started to play. You'd written it years before meeting Jenna, shortly after being cheated on by your previous partner. When you produced it, you were in a very dark place, one that Jenna had helped you get out of. However, as you stood on stage, bright lights shining in your eyes and cheers echoing in your ears, your heart couldn't help but ache as you realised the song was beginning to reflect your relationship with Jenna.

I'm scared

It feels like you don't care

As you started to sing the lyrics, the waves of emotion washing over you, you look out into the crowd as you pour your heart and soul into the song. As you scan the crowd, your eyes catch a familiar face within the mosh, and as you take a double take, your heart simultaneously soars and drops.

Enlighten me, my dear

Why am I still here?

Jenna was in the crowd and looking directly at you. As your eyes met hers, she gave you a small sad smile as she slowly swayed to the music. What you couldn't tell however was that she was thinking the same as you. As your lyrics echo in her ears, her heart skips a beat as she too realises that the lyrics suddenly seem all to familiar.

I don't mean to be complacent with the decisions you made

But why?

She watches as you rip your eyes off of her, instead deciding to look out to the general crowd, and as you do so, a tear slips down her cheek. She remembers vividly the state you were in when she met you

Rock bottom.

When she had first heard the song she was in disbelief as to how someone could have made you feel this way. When she had helped you heal, she had sworn to never let you reach that state again.

Yet here she was.

In the back of my mind

You died

And I didn't even cry

No, not a single tear

And I'm sick of waiting patiently for someone that won't even arrive

After spotting Jenna amongst the crowd, your emotions were almost impossible to contain, yet as you continued to sing, you channelled all of your frustration and sadness into the lyrics. Watching the crowd be simultaneously overcome with emotion, you risked a glance in Jenna's direction. As the stage lights gently reflected on her face, you could see the tears that ran down her cheeks. Whilst you felt some gratification in seeing her emotional, your heart also clenched at the sight.

In the back of my mind

I killed you

And I didn't even even regret it

I can't believe I said it

But it's true

I hate you

Walking off the stage and into your changing room, the cheering slowly fading in the background, you take a deep breath as you try to compose yourself, your heart racing and head spinning as you clock that Jenna was actually here. Why was she here?

Just as that question came to mind, you heard a soft knock at your door. Your heart dropped at the thought of who it could be. Unsure as to whether you wanted it to be her or not, you opened the door slowly, revealing your girlfriend. Your breath instantly hitched in your throat as you took in her figure.

Dressed in a pair of loose suit pants and a casual blazer on top of a white tee, she nervously stood in front of you as she fidgeted with her hands. "Can I come in?" she asked meekly. "Yeah" you sighed as you stood to the side and gestured her in. She hesitantly walks in, her eyes taking in the decor of the room as she makes her way towards your small couch. She timidly takes a seat as her eyes continue to seemingly avoid you.

"What are you doing here?" leaning against your vanity, you break the tense silence as she finally looks at you, tears evident in her eyes. "I came here for you" she speaks tentatively after a moment. "That's a first" you faintly scoff as you rub a hand across your face. You hear her take a laboured breath at your response before she stands up and hesitantly walks towards you, attempting to find your eyes with hers.

"Y/n...I came here for you, and that's the truth." she whispers as she stops just in front of you, her hands twitching in temptation to touch you. You suck in a sharp breath as you lift your head up, tears slowly falling as you finally let them slip. She hesitantly reaches a hand up to your cheek, very gently wiping away your tears, when, to her surprise, you lean into her touch.

"I fucked up... I hurt you... and I made you feel as though you didn't matter to me." her cries starting to obstruct her apology. "But you do. You mean so fucking much to me and I... I don't know what I would do without you a-and I don't want to even think about what I would do.". At this point she is sobbing as you reach your hand to grasp her spare one, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I shouldn't have ignored you like that I... I should never have made that comment about dating Percy I would never do that. I don't see him like that I promise... I would never do that to you Y/n I swear." Your heart clenched at her words. She knew she fucked up and that was enough for you - after all you were equally to blame. Having enough of her desperate yet oddly adorable rambling, you wrap her in a crushing embrace to which she instantly melts into. She hides herself in the crook of your neck as she continues to sob, whispering "I'm sorry"s into you as you cradled her head.

With her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you bury your head into her shoulder as you bathe in the comfort that her presence brings. "It's ok" is all you say as her sobs cease into sniffles, your shirt wet with her tears. "I love you, it's ok" "Thank y-you. I love you so m-much" you squeeze her tighter at her words, not willing to let go anytime soon.

Tag-list: @nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams

[poisonlove]

Completely Mine | w.a

This fanfiction contains explicit +18 scenes, including mentions of slapping, hands on the neck, and cunnilingus. Reader discretion is advised.

I placed my hands on my girlfriend's cheeks, merging our lips in a sweet kiss. Wednesday's cold hands gently grasp mine, intertwining our fingers during the kiss. I broke the contact between our mouths and stared into Wednesday's pupils, which were growing larger, looking at me with determination.

She was very excited.

I moaned as I felt Wednesday's hand slip under my shirt, caressing my abdomen " make me yours " she whispered, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

I felt an electric pleasure surge from my spine to the clitoris.

I bit my lower lip playfully and placed my hand on Addams' thigh, drawing absent-minded lines along her stockings —take off your shirt and get on all fours—I said, looking at her seriously.

Wednesday stares at me without blinking and obeys without saying a word.

My eyes scan Wednesday's body meticulously, watching as she tenses the muscles in her arms to maintain that position and arches her back to satisfy my request. I smirk, thinking that my girlfriend wouldn't even listen if I begged her for notes or to go to a certain place... but when we're alone in this room, she lets herself be dominated without saying a word.

I approach slowly, crawling on the mattress of my bed, letting out a sigh when I feel my pelvis is pressed against Wednesday's buttocks.

Wednesday moans shyly.

I licked my lips and dangerously approached her neck. I smiled shyly, watching as my girlfriend trembled, feeling my teeth graze her skin.

"I'll fuck you so hard you won't walk for days," I murmured in a low, husky voice near her ear.

I straightened my back, bringing one of my hands to her braids. My fingers exerted force, and with a firm wrist movement, I lifted Wednesday's head up, exposing her throat.

"How many times have I told you to respond when I speak?" I said in a serious tone, my eyes hooded with lust. "But... but you," Wednesday began, stuttering due to the sudden pleasure. "Ahhh," the little Addams involuntarily let out when she felt my free hand sharply hit her buttocks.

My hand remained in place.

"So?" I asked again, rubbing my fingers in the struck area. "You do what you want with me," exclaimed Addams breathlessly, her voice slightly shaky.

Wednesday's back arched more when she felt my hand hit her buttocks again. "This is my girl," I murmured seductively, biting my lower lip feeling my girlfriend's moisture grow with each stroke.

"Turn around," I said coldly.

Wednesday quickly turned around, lying on the bed, looking at me with unreadable eyes. Her braids were slowly coming undone, and her bangs were slightly damp with sweat on her forehead. I bit my lower lip, seeing the porcelain skin of my girlfriend standing out against her black bra.

My hands approached her face, smiling as my girlfriend leaned against the palm of my hand, closing her eyes. My thumb caressed her smooth and perfect skin, moving down her plump, thick lips. A growl escaped from the depths of my throat as I watched my girlfriend's lips wrap around my thumb, sucking on it while still looking at me innocently.

My other hand went to her neck, closing my fingers tightly around it. Wednesday's eyes looked at me with a flame in her irises. Wednesday defiantly placed her hands over mine, increasing the grip.

Wednesday removes her mouth from my thumb and lets out a moan.

"Completely mine," I murmur with satisfaction. I release my grip on her neck and start moving my hands down her body.

I unhooked her bra and immediately placed my lips around her nipple, feeling it harden upon contact with my lips. With determination, I licked over it, sucking passionately. Meanwhile, I placed my hand on the other, covering her breast with my whole hand.

Wednesday put her hands on my head, sighing heavily.

I began to descend down her stomach, leaving kisses and love bites along the way. I stopped and lifted my head, seeing Wednesday looking at me passionately with her elbows resting on the mattress. I removed her skirt, leaving her in lingerie, continued kissing, and stopped when I reached her mound.

I could see and smell her excitement.

I smiled and gave a kiss on the fabric of her underwear. She let out a growl, annoyed.

Wednesday continues lifting her hips to encourage me to continue my work. "Please," she murmurs between her teeth, and I decided to please her.

At least at first.

I took off her panties, and completely aroused, I admired her wetness.

I licked my lips hungrily, staring at her glistening pussy. Slowly, I leaned towards her, placing my hands on her thighs covered by her stockings.

My lips slowly kissed her right thigh, leaving a small bite.

Instinctively, my girlfriend opened her legs wider.

My breath crashed against her intimacy, and she shivered instantly. I smelled her delightful arousal again, an acrid but not unpleasant scent. It was fascinating to see how excited she was for me, you could see... her small and large lips covered and shiny with her fluids.

She sighed exasperated, and I smiled. I bit my lips satisfied with what I saw.

I gave a kiss on her lower lips and began to kiss them. Wednesday moaned, placing her hands on my shoulders.

"Please, Amore" she murmurs again.

I raised my gaze and saw Wednesday recline again on her elbows, looking at me with a plea, her eyes hooded with excitement. Her braids on the sides of her shoulders moved with her rapid breathing.

Her lips were slightly parted.

Without breaking eye contact, I applied more pressure to her intimacy and wrapped my lips around her clit.

She moaned louder.

In a swift motion, Wednesday lay back down. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly.

It was damn exciting.

"Yes..." she whispered slowly.

I began to suck on her button, and Wednesday's sighs gradually increased. I closed my eyes and continued moving my tongue around her clit, swallowing and savoring her delicious taste. I inserted a finger to gather more fluids.

I wanted more.

"Yes... keep going," she said, biting her lips hard.

I clung to her thighs and slid my tongue into her intimacy. "Fuck," she moaned, biting her lower lip, closing her eyes.

I smiled and gently kissed her inner lips, releasing a stream of saliva connecting it to my mouth. With one hand, I made circular motions around her clit, causing Addams' sighs to become heavier. My hand was completely covered in her liquids; I leaned in and gave another kiss to the bundle of nerves.

I licked the excitement off my lips. I put my lips around her clit again and inserted two fingers into her.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Wednesday's knuckles turn completely white, squeezing the sheets with need. Moans echoed in the room.

The walls of the little Addams tightened around my fingers, and I realized she was about to climax. She put her hands on my head, applying more pressure to her intimacy.

I kept licking and penetrating with intensity.

Her back arched more.

"Yes..." she moaned, and curling my fingers, I found her G-spot. She moaned louder. "Fuck," she exclaimed.

Her hips moved to the rhythm of my motions, and I increased the pace of the lick. After stopping penetration, I put the fingers in my mouth, sucking her nectar.

"Look at me," I exclaimed, stopping licking her delicious intimacy. With difficulty, Wednesday supported her weight on her arms and looked at me with excitement.

She was covered in sweat, and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. I took her legs and invited her to rest them on my shoulders, giving me more access to her intimacy. Without breaking eye contact, I passionately licked her intimacy again, watching Wednesday shift her weight onto one arm.

She stretched out the other and placed her hand in my hair. Move your hips again.

Groaning.

"Fuck! Yes..." she whispered.

Her eyes turned white with excitement. She redirected her attention to me, mouth wide open.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed with difficulty.

"I'm... going to..." she murmured with difficulty, not even finishing the sentence before I felt her excitement pouring into my mouth.

I swallowed the excess.

Wednesday, breathing irregularly, leaned back on the mattress. My hands remained on Addams' thighs, and determinedly, I continued licking her delicious pussy. I could hear the dark-haired girl on top of my body complaining between moans.

"Y/N... stop... please," she whispered amid moans, complaining about the overwhelming pleasure. Instinctively, she squeezed her legs around my head, almost trying to block my movements in her delicate area.

Wednesday sighed in relief, placing a hand on my hair.

A growl came from the depths of my throat, and with a determined gesture, I opened Wednesday's legs again. My fingers took her liquid, and I put it in my mouth, cleaning it well before grabbing Addams' cold and delicate hand and placing it on her stomach. I looked at her maliciously and then put my mouth around the swollen clit again.

Wednesday nervously laughed, moaning.

"Amore.." she sighs completely surrendered.

"Come for me again," I confessed, increasing the pace of the lick; she was on the verge of tears from the excessive pleasure.

"Oh my God..." she exclaims, biting her lower lip hard, squeezing my hand tightly. "Mmmmmh..." I swallowed loudly.

"Get up," I said seriously, pulling away from her clit, licking my lips. "What?" She said in a surprised tone, taken aback by my sudden command.

"Get up." I looked at her with mischievous eyes and got on my knees.

The raven-haired girl immediately got up from the bed, her legs slightly trembling as she covered her breasts with her arms. I sighed when I saw that the orgasm that had occurred was sliding down her legs. I slowly crawled towards her, and with hooded eyes, Wednesday watched excited and curious about my movements.

I rested my head against the pillow and got the perfect view of her delicious pussy.

"Ride my face," I said with a smile on my lips.

Wednesday didn't need to be told twice, also thanks to the fact that her legs didn't allow her to stand for too long. Her hands grabbed the bedpost, and I finally got what I asked for. Wednesday, amidst moans, began to move her hips slowly, as she had no strength and couldn't bear the painful and overwhelming pleasure. I slid my tongue into her pussy, her warm walls embracing my tongue. I closed my lips, sucking on her bundle of nerves.

"My... God... yes. It... feels... like... ah..." The raven-haired girl was ready to ride my face and couldn't manage a complete sentence. I sucked on her clit again, my hands holding her legs.

My girlfriend abruptly lifted herself from my face, and I glared at her when she sat on my stomach, the heat of her excitement on my skin. The raven-haired girl leaned down to kiss me and moved a hand from the bedpost along my side, smiling against my lips and sighing to feel her own taste on her lips. Addams' hand rested against mine, and suddenly Wednesday lifted her hips slightly, directing my hand between her legs.

I smiled at the understanding.

Between one kiss and another, she aligned my fingers at the entrance and sat on my hand. I groaned at how pleasant the warmth around me was. The raven-haired girl repositioned her hand next to the other on the bedpost and began to move up and down on my fingers, moving slowly. With my thumb, I stimulated her clit, and I leaned in to kiss her right breast.

Her movements became faster.

With completely hooded eyes, I watched how Wednesday's breasts moved to the rhythm of her hips, looking at me with her mouth open while keeping her hair away from her face.

She sighed and murmured my name with each ride.

I could feel the walls of her vagina closing around my fingers, and her movements were becoming frantic.

Wednesday was very close to climaxing.

She bit her lower lip, containing a mischievous smile, and abruptly lifted herself from my hand, sitting again on my mouth, smiling faintly at the confidence she was having with herself.

"Swallow..." She sighed, murmuring, and a great excitement spread throughout my body from the words she spoke; my clit pulsed to receive attention.

"You little slut," I whispered, smiling.

I grabbed her thighs and quickly moved my mouth, savoring her delicious taste. Wednesday again removes her hand from the bedpost and puts it on my head, assisting with the frantic movements of her hips to ride me.

"And... Y/N," her moans were uncontrollable. "I'm... fuck!..." she can't even finish the sentence that, with her mouth open, I received her delicious fluids. I continued licking while trying to breathe more regularly.

When she no longer feels my tongue working around her clit, she lifts herself from my face, sitting again on my stomach, kissing me tenderly. With my tongue, I asked to enter, and she willingly allowed me, making her taste herself. She put her hands on my back, increasing the pace of the kiss.

Between passionate kisses, the movements of her hips, pressing against my intimacy, made me ecstatic.

"How about another round?" she suggests seductively in my ear. In response, I kissed her.

[kaereth]

Beauty and the Beast AU Wenclair for a kofi! Reading together in the library :> Feat. Me actually kinda going for Enid's canon werewolf for once (bg is edited from the disney movie!)

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

OK an Xavier x reader where the reader is a witch and her mom attended Nevermore and was Bestfriends with Morticia addams and bc of that reader and Wednesday were raised together and are basically eachothers Bestfriend but the readers mom died and her dad is a horror author so alot of ppl in nevermore know abt it him kinda similar to how Xaviers dad is famous (except readers dad rlly cares abt her)

Anyways reader is a bit shy buts nice and friendly which you don't expect from Wednesdays bestfriend. Anyways her and Xavier both like eachother but reader is too shy to talk to him as he's her first real crush so she mostly ignores him making him think reader doesn't like him

TALK

pairings: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader summary: you too shy to talk to Xavier, making him assume you don't like him back warnings: none

"he's looking again" your friends, Yoko said annoyed, motioning over to the one and only boy you've ever had your eye on

you looked back and saw him staring at you. your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him confused as to why you keep finding him like this.

you looked away quickly and left with Yoko

"just talk to him" she suggested

"are you kidding? I can't just do that! I would make a fool of myself" you sighed, looking back at the boy

--

you saw him walking in the hallway, walking with Ajax.

"hi, Y/n" Ajax smiled at you as you approached, you and Ajax were kind of friends. you talked to each other nicely and sat with each other on the odd occasion in class

"Hi, Ajax" you waved softly

"Hi!" Xavier greeted you warmly

you looked at him and quickly turned your head away, walking past them

"what was that?" you heard Xavier ask Ajax

"she's just shy"

----

"why are you always looking at him?" Wednesday asked bluntly, watching you stare at the long haired boy longingly

"I do not" you scoffed quietly

"you're wasting your time on a stupid boy" she huffed

"he's not stupid" you muttered

"he might not be, but you are" her deadpan expression made you feel weak

"how?" you stopped looking at him and turned to her confusingly

"because you stare at him like you're in love, yet you make no effort to talk to him, and when he tries to, you just shy away and leave" she explained

"I don't shy away, I- I just get nervous" you mumbled

"even though I don't believe in the concept of love. I think it's stupid to waste it away just because you're nervous. he seems to want to talk to you, so that's something you should consider next time" she rolled her eyes. not in a rude way.

"I can talk to him" you argued

"I'm sure you can" she nodded sarcastically

"you know what. I'll talk to him right now" you stood up from your chair and walked over to Xavier, who was sitting, talking to Ajax

you walked up to them and looked down at Xavier, beginning to get nervous again

"Hi" he smiled softly

"Hi..Ajax" you said quickly, turning to the gorgon beside him

Xavier slumped in his chair and sighed quietly, running his tongue along the inside his cheek.

"hi. Y/n! need something?" he asked politley

"I was wondering if you could help for miss Thornhill's class, I'm kind of struggling and I know you do good in that class" you asked nicely

"yeah, Of course I can help you! do you want to go to the library tomorrow at 3?" Ajax said

"yeah, that sounds good. thank you!"

you turned to Xavier and smiled sheepishly

"bye" you murmured before walking away

-----

you sat at the Library, waiting for Ajax to arrive. you had arrived a few minutes early, to set up what you needed

"ready to start?" Ajax asked, sitting down next to you.

"yep!" you replied cheerfully

-

"do you have a problem with Xavier?" he inquired suddenly, you had been studying for fifteen minutes and you had a minute of reading back on notes when he asked

"what? what would make you say that?" you chuckled nervously

"sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard or anything, you just don't seem to like him" he shrugged

"what makes you say that?" you questioned

"I just don't see you talk to him, I mean I see him try to talk to you but you never really keep the conversation going" you contemplated telling Ajax, but he's Xavier's friend, so you knew he would probably end up telling him what you said.

"I didn't notice" you lied

"oh, ok" he brushed it off and continued helping you.

---

it had been two days since the study and you had organised another one. but this time it was by the lake.

you there you sat. leaning against a tree as you looked down at the lake, watching ducks swim by with their babies following. your books were sprawled out in front of you

"I brought a blanket, if that would be more comfortable to sit on" Xavier's voice said behind you.

you looked up and saw him with books and a blanket in his hand

"Pardon?" you gulped

"I know you were expecting Ajax, he was busy so he sent me" Xavier replied

but little did you know, Ajax was sat in bed, sleeping after he told Xavier to go instead. to get to know you.

"it's fine" you looked down at your hands and fiddled with your fingers as he took a seat next to you

"what about the blanket?" you exhorted

"you wanted to sit on it?" he asked

"sticks aren't that comfortable" you stated softly.

he set the blanket up on the ground and let you sit on it before him

"let's get started then" he begun. flipping to a study book

--

"this is the most you've ever talked to me" Xavier smiled

"I've talked" you argued quietly

"two words" he chuckled "why is that?"

"why's what?" you blinked cluelessly

"why do you ignore me. I try to talk to you all the time but you just walk away" he repeated in more depth

"I don't know, I just don't hear you" you lied

"but you would sometimes be looking directly at me" he urged

"I know, my hearing is pretty bad" you sighed deeply

"I'm serious, I just want to know. do I make you uncomfortable? awkward?" he listed

"nervous" you said

"nervous?" he spoke in a confused manner

"you make me nervous" you admitted

"how?" he had a slight smile on his face

"I don't know. you just do" you shrugged sheepishly

"so this whole time I just thought you didn't like me. but you were just too nervous to say something to me?" he laughed lowly

"basically yeah" you nodded your head slowly

"so you do like me?" he quizzed

"in which way?" you wondered

"are you saying there's a possibility that you like me in a romantic way?" he smirked

"no" you shook your head, beginning to feel nervous again

"are you sure?" he smiled cheekily

you couldn't talk. so you just stared blankly into the distance. pretending to not hear him

"don't go back to pretending I don't exist. please just talk to me" he pleaded

you looked at him for a glimpse of a second before turning away again. shaking your head before scooching an inch away from him

"If it makes you feel any better. I like you, a lot, actually" he revealed. your eyes went wide as he told you that. your hands went clammy as you breathing became heavy

"are you ok?" Xavier panicked, moving closer to you

"no" you whispered, breathing uneasily

"hey, It's ok. I'm sorry" he cursed himself under his breath, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your arm for comfort

"I do like you" you confessed wobbily

"in which way, sweetheart?" he teased carefully

you glared at him as your breathing became more steady

"I'm kidding" he laughed

------------------------------------------------

kind of shit, ngl.

[stories4thepack]

The vampire bites the Physic

Wednesday Addams x vampire!reader

(Requested)

Warnings: blood, injury, stabbing (yeah!)

“No!”

You scream, the power of your words scratching the back of your throat like it were the dagger thrusted into Wednesday.

you can smell the blood before you see it

Crackstone twists the blade with a grin. You can hear the sickening tear of Wednesday’s flesh. Your want to run to her side, protect your girlfriend. Yet, the way your mouth waters at the scarlet, stained, school-shirt reveals how much of a danger you are right now.

Laurel Gates strides over to you, a silver dagger in her hand. You know she is going to kill you, plunge it into your heart while wearing that cruel, psychotic smirk.

“Stop,”

Crackstone hisses, his semi-rotten voice box doing little to aid his speech

“Let the leach finish of Goody Addams. “

The cuffs around your wrists are suddenly released, causing you to fall onto your knees. As well as smelling Wednesday’s, you feel your own blood flowing down the side of your head. A result of the beating you had suffered. You hear Wednesday slip to the floor, amazed she hadn’t yet screamed out.

“Bye Bye Wednesday.”

Laurel giggles, tailing Crackstone out of the Crypt. You crawl to the goths side, ignoring the way your chest burns with hunger. When you reach her, you lean against the pillar, exhausted by the pain from your own attack and the hunger flowing through your veins.

“Your going to be alright Wednesday.”

“Is your vampiric Vision impaired? I’m dying!”

You attempt to chuckle but the hunger that is making your vision scarlet and tightening your throat, makes the sound come out as more of a hiss. You’ve learnt to push the hunger down, and continue on with the day, but with more and more of Wednesdays blood flowing from the wound, it becomes increasingly difficult.

“I should put pressure on it, right?”

You manage to force out of your mouth, the words strangled but hopefully understandable. Wednesday doesn’t say anything.

You quickly crawl to your knees, placing your hands over the wound and pushing down hard. The goths face scrunches up in momentary pain. You smile, trying to help as much as you can

but then you look down.

Her blood flows over your fingers, decorating your skin a dark, red. You breath catches in your burning chest, your eyes fading into a dark, deep scarlet. You can not hear Wednesday speaking to you, trapped in your own hungry thoughts, before her hand wraps weakly around yours.

“I can read your face as if you were one of my murder novels, I find your intentions humorous.”

She mumbles, a tiny smile on her face, which is somehow growing paler than it usually is. You look back to the wound, your fingers have unintentionally curved slightly into it.

“Proceed Y/L/N.”

Wednesday mutters, your head snapping towards her face once more. You want to argue, to resist but the single, weak, curt nod she gives you is enough to make your shove away any form of doubt.

You carefully lean forward, your heart flutters as Wednesday lifts her head slightly, allowing you full access to her throat. You brush her messy hair away, unable to fully understand what you are doing. That is, until your lips press against her cool skin. You can feel her heart beat slowing with every second and suddenly, you know what you need to do.

You pull away, ignoring the confused look on Wednesdays face at your action. You place both hands on the Handel of the blade, forcing back your hunger as much as possible.

“This is going to hurt.”

You say, before yanking the dagger out of her body. You hear her hiss, see her eyes close and perhaps imagine a tear hiding beneath her eye lid. You bring your wrist to your mouth, tearing your fangs hastily into it before bringing it over her wound.

You allow a few drops of your blood to fall into hers before bringing your wrist up to her mouth.

“Are you going to turn me.”

You shake your head, you would need to drain her completely for that, and have a few candles and a spell book around. Wednesday manages to open her mouth slightly, enough to allow the blood from your own bite to fall into her mouth. You pull away, crouching beside her as her heart slows to a stop-

Suddenly she sits up, gasping for air. She looks at the palm of her hand before feeling her forehead, searching for the wounds your blood has now healed.

“Your a vampire, how is this possible?”

“The curse of being awesome Wednesday.”

You mutter, lying back against the pillar as Wednesday runs out, going to save Nevermore

———————————————————————

“You alright Wednesday?” You ask, watching as she paces around in her empty side of the room. Her stuff is still gone and her bed has been made with plain white sheets, nothing smells like her anymore, it feels so unfamiliar. She continues to pace…

“Wednesday, Crackstone is gone! Laurel is dead! What has gotten your pigtails in a twist?”

She pauses briefly to throw a sharp glare at you before continuing her pacing. You sigh, realising that calling her name again was useless. So you stand up, walk over to her and place both your hands firmly on her shoulders

“What are you doing Y/n?”

She demands, turning slowly with a scowl on her face. She is met with one of your cocky grins.

“Come one Wednesday! What is bothering you?”

Your voice bounces with playfulness, an attempt at calming the obviously adrenaline rushed girl. Wednesday pauses and you can see the way her jaw tightens as she decides whether to tell you the truth

“Y/n”

She finally says, looking up slightly to meet your bright eyes. There was something missing, she noticing, realising that she disliked the lack of burning, scarlet hunger. There was something about that side of you, a killer, someone who could match how dangerous she herself was, that she found incredibly beautiful

“Last night, at the Crypt-“

“If your gonna ask how I healed you, I honestly have no idea myself. Somewhere down the line I had a wizard for a great, great grandfather or something.”

Wednesday waits until you are finished, deciding the best way to ask is directly (as usual)

“Would you have bitten me.”

It sounds more like a statement but the words are enough to make you freeze. You hate the way your eyes snap to her throat, and you know for certain that she saw the short action.

“Is my blood that tempting for you?”

She asks, stepping closer, deep eyes never leaving yours. You swallow nervously, your hands feeling suddenly very sweaty.

“Yeah, you are.”

Another step, her head tilts upward for you. Instinctively, you brush her pigtail over her shoulder, finger carefully trailing her jugular. Wednesday watches as your glowing eyes darken into that scarlet and she adores the way they look into her own.

“Sorry, I should have my sunglasses o-“

She cuts you off by pressing her lips to your, the gentleness of the action surprises you but soon you are kissing back, hand grasping her throat as if it were a life line.

You pull her by her shoulder, guiding her over to her bed, making her sit down on the edge of it. You decide to sit behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I assume you are going to bite then?”

She questions, her usually monotone voice sounder so much sweeter now. Your lips press against her cool skin, feeling the light shiver that ripples through her body at your touch. You can both hear and feel her heart beating and feel the warmth of her blood. It is all too tempting

You bite down, fangs breaking through the soft skin as if it were nothing. You feel Wednesday stiffen and lean backwards into you as you begin to drink. Her blood the most incredible you had ever tasted. Your hand grasps the other side of her head, tilting her further to the side to give you better access. No other blood would compare to this, no one’s and nothings.

When you finally tear your head from her throat, she turns around, kissing you again and no doubt tasting her blood on your lips.

You fall back against her bed, head sinking into her pillow. Your surprised, nearly shocked when Wednesday lies beside you, your hands touching each other lightly.

“We are going to do this again? Right?”

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer, and moves her head a centimetre to look into those scarlet eyes once more

“Yes, Mon Cher, we will”

[mindtrcks]

for tyler - maybe something about reader helping rescue him from thornhill & being the hyde’s master instead of her? love your writing style!

this is hungry work

Pairing: Tyler Galpin/Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: vague mentions of grooming/violence, smut, quite a bit of plot oops, unrealistically happy ending

Summary: You may not have a master plan or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner's diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man. Something waiting to be awakened. A creature loyally dependent on its master, subservient to its core.

Wednesday says that it’s Tyler. 

She says he’s a monster, that he killed enough people to get a taste for it, and now he’s killed his master, too. That he’s out of control and it’s only a matter of time before he does something big, before more people get hurt. She says anything he’s done before now has been a lie; he doesn’t care about you, and he never did. You were a pawn in he and Kinbott’s game, and he would've tossed you away the second you’d served your purpose. She says that he isn't the boy you thought, and he isn't to be trusted. 

But he's sitting right in front of you, with the same puppy dog frown and furrowed brows as always. He's looking up at you with something like desperation in his eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met her, you doubt Wednesday. How could this boy—quiet and sweet and scared—be the monster she claims? How could Tyler from the coffee shop—Tyler who’s soft spoken and friends with outcasts and isn’t even screaming at Wednesday for kidnapping him—be anything but good?

You don’t doubt he’s the Hyde. If Wednesday had a vision, you’re not going to question that. But you do question whether or not she knows the whole story. 

—

You’re at Nevermore when Wednesday finally pieces it all together. She’s been expelled, taking the fall for you and anybody else who’d been in that shed with her. Weems had taken it upon herself to personally escort Wednesday to the station, but evidently, even expulsion can’t stop somebody as stubborn as her.

She texts you from Eugene’s phone, the message just a single word. Thornhill.

It’s all you need to bolt up in bed, to shove your shoes on and search blindly for your jacket. You’re not sure whether it’s wishful thinking or just plain hubris, but some part of you—the outcast that wants nothing more than to fit in, to be a part of something—thinks that if you can stop Thornhill, you can stop it all. You can keep anybody else from being killed and thwart whatever Thornhill’s plan is, and best of all, you can help Tyler in the process. 

It’s either that, or die trying. 

—

Breaking into Thornhill’s classroom is easier than expected. She doesn't leave Ophelia Hall after eight anymore; the lockdown has grown too serious, the dark too dangerous. It allieves your fear, as you creep through Nevermore’s halls, to know that her classroom will be empty when you arrive. To not be afraid of Thornhill would be stupid; if Wednesday’s right, and Thornhill’s responsible for everything, you don’t doubt she’d be willing to kill you for snooping. 

The door is locked when you reach your destination, but you waste no time in picking it. You aren’t sure how urgent this is, aren’t sure where Wednesday is or where Thornhill is or where Tyler is, and you aren’t sure what she could possibly be making him do. 

You choose not to think about it as your eyes scan the room. You head to her desk first, frantically flipping through sheets of paper, turning over folders and ransacking drawers. You move to the bookshelf when the desk proves fruitless, scanning the dust on the spines of books. Nothing sticks out; the last thing you deem to try is the filing cabinet, looming in the corner of the room. There’s only one drawer that’s open, the metal dented and bent like it’d been slammed in a rush. Your feet take you to it before your brain even has time to consciously make a decision; your hands pulling it open before you know what you’re doing. 

It’s empty, save for one thing: a leatherbound journal with the name Nathaniel Faulkner engraved on the spine. 

—

Nathaniel Faulkner says that the Hyde is a beast lying dormant in an innocent man, a creature loyally dependent on its master. 

He also says that this loyalty does not run as thick as one might think.

—

The thing is, you don’t know Tyler as well as you wish you did. You don’t get to talk as much as you’d like, or to hang out without the murders hanging over your heads. But it’s not like you’re a stranger, certainly not like Thornhill was. No, you’d go as far as to say you’re his friend, maybe among his only ones. He trusts you, and despite yourself—despite everything that he’s done—you trust him.

A Hyde’s relationship to its master is built on trust, says Faulkner.

And maybe you don’t have a master plan, or a decades long vendetta, but you do have Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary, and a recurring penchant for taking wild leaps of faith.

—

He’s in the woods outside of Nevermore when you find him, looking antsy and wrong. 

You don’t want to think about what he’s doing there, about why his fingers are curled up into fists at his side. What he’s done doesn’t matter to you; all you care about is what he will do, what choice he’ll make. You approach him carefully, not wanting to set him off, or scare him away. You can’t imagine what kind of headspace he’s in, or the things going through his mind.

It’s only been hours since you’ve last seen him, but he already looks changed. Whatever act he’d been keeping up in Xavier��s shed, in the police station, he’s dropped now. His eyes are dark and his shoulders tense, mouth curled into something cruel. You hear Wednesday’s words echo in your head—he isn’t the boy you thought, he’s a monster, he’s using you—but you try to drown them out. You know Tyler. You know the good he’s capable of. So what if he’s capable of bad, too? 

“Tyler,” you say, keeping your voice steady as you step forward. He doesn’t back up, but he does narrow his eyes, leveling you with a gaze that has you on edge, shifting on your feet, your body screaming at you to back down, turn away. 

He smiles at you; not the small, shy thing you’ve seen from across the Weathervane so many times, but something sharp around the edges, showing a few too many teeth. Have his canines always been that big? Sharp enough to pierce skin? You feel something run up your spine; a shiver or a thrill, you aren’t sure, and you don’t care enough to try and discern it. Tyler’s walking towards you, and it’s hard to care about much of anything besides him in front of you and the diary weighing heavy in your bag. “You're the one they sent to fight the big, bad wolf?” he asks, looming over you. He expects you to be scared, to run away.

But scared isn’t exactly the word you would use. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

You can see his face flicker for a moment, quick enough that it would've gone unnoticed if you hadn't been looking for it. “And why is that?” he asks, nostrils flaring as he steps impossibly closer.

You refuse to let the proximity affect you, no matter how much it's trying to.  “Because it’s pointless,” you say, chin lifting up in defiance. “You know Wednesday. She won’t let you win.”

“So I should surrender, then?” he scoffs, because he thinks those are his only two options. He thinks this is kill or be killed; keep fighting or get arrested, sent away for life. But you have another option.

“Not necessarily,” you say, as your hand snakes down to your satchel and pulls out the diary. Tyler’s eyes zero in on it instantly, lighting up with recognition, with want. “How would you like to put this whole mess behind you, Thornhill included?”

He blinks a few times before glancing back up at you, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t,” he says, baring his teeth around the words, like it physically pains him to say them.

You raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Why?”

He looks mad, now. Not the simmering anger that’s been in the air the whole time, but a lighter kind of rage that’s more akin to simple frustration. More akin to something you’ve seen on Tyler before. You never thought you’d be relieved for somebody to be mad at you. “That's not how it works.

“Because she’s taught you so much about how it works.”

“More than you possibly could,” he spits out, and it’s supposed to be an insult, but instead it’s just plain wrong. Because you have the exact same diary that she did, the exact same knowledge at your fingertips. Only, you’re willing to share your toys. 

He watches as you lift up the diary, flipping to your bookmarked page. It’s power in your palms; power over Thornhill, over Tyler. It makes you sick, a little, knowing his fate is literally in your hands. How did Thornhill ever take it? “‘I have heard of Hyde’s gaining new masters only through means of battle spoils or dark magic, but I imagine there must be one other way,’” you recite, reading off of page three of Faulkner’s section on masters, the chapter you had found the most helpful in your frantic skim-through. Tyler stares down at you with something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ll unpack it later. “‘Seeing as the decision is always ultimately the Hyde’s—whether consciously or not—if a prospective master was ready and willing, a Hyde might simply choose them.’”

“You want…” he starts, incredulous, but doesn’t finish. He just looks at you, conflicted, confused, and maybe a little bit of something else. You understand that what you’re offering is bigger than anything you’ve done with him before now. Going from sitting across from each other at the Weathervane or being present in the same car—Wednesday or Enid or even Fester always a buffer—to offering yourself up as his master is quite the leap. Still, for whatever reason, you’re hopeful. 

“Yes,” you answer, even if he technically never finished asking his question. Yes, you want to do this, yes, you’re willing to take the leap, yes to everything. 

Tyler shifts on his feet, suddenly seeming wildly uncomfortable as his eyes skirt around the treeline. He’s looking for her, you realize. He’s scared she’s there, scared she’s watching. Scared he’s in trouble. 

A gnawing pit forms in your stomach. “Tyler,” you say, and your voice draws his eyes away from the woods. “I’m offering. All you have to do is make the choice, and all this goes away.”

It sounds simpler than it is. There will be things to do, after. Strings to tie, messes to clean. But right now, all you need is to get Tyler away from Thornhill. Permanently. 

Tyler stays silent for a moment, regarding you with something on his face that you don't recognize. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, unreadable. But you refuse to falter.

“Because you don't deserve…her,” you say.  “The things she did to you. It doesn't have to be like that.”

He seems to consider this, for a moment, eyeing you up and down. He has no reason to refuse, not really. Not unless he actually does enjoy it, like Wednesday claims. If he likes killing, gets off on the taste of blood in his mouth. You know he doesn't, though. That's Thornhill. Right? 

“So what do I do?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders up. “Since you're the expert here. What do I do?”

You close the diary, dropping it down to your side. There aren't step by step instructions, no ancient ritual for you to follow in the dead of night. All Nathaniel Faulkner had to say on the matter is that the choice is always the Hyde’s. 

You roll with it.

“The choice is yours, Tyler. Make it.”

He furrows his brows, looks like he wants to protest, but doesn't. He keeps his mouth tightly shut, ducking his head down and focusing hard on the ground. You don't know what it's like, on his side. Aren’t sure how hard it could possibly be to make a decision, but won’t comment on it. You’ll give him however long he needs. 

After what feels like an eternity but must’ve only been a few moments, he looks back up at you, and you know instinctively that it’s done. 

“Did it work?” you ask, peering up at him. He seems unchanged. The same Tyler you’ve been talking to this whole time. The same Tyler that killed all those people and put Eugene in the hospital.

He shrugs. “Tell me to do something.”

You consider it; there's a million things you could tell him to do, endless ways this could go. In the end, you land on something simple. Something with no strings. “Come here,” you request, plainly.

And he does. 

—

So you’re Tyler’s master, now. 

It’s weird to think about. Weird to think that you’re the one who figured it out, that this victory belongs to you. You expected it might go to Wednesday, that she’d be the one to help Tyler. Either that, or kill him. You thought his fate would end up in her hands, for better or for worse. 

Evidently, it did not. 

—

There are many things you come to realize about Tyler in the following months that you never thought you’d get to know. 

You know he doesn’t really drink coffee, despite his choice in occupation. He wears socks for as many hours of the day as possible, and he sleeps with three blankets instead of a comforter. You know he keeps a secret stash of twizzlers in the cabinet above the microwave, because if his dad sees them they’ll be gone before the day is over. You know what shampoo he uses, how he prefers Spotify over Apple Music, and which drawer is the sock drawer. You know his favorite TV show is Friends, and that he’s embarrassed to tell people about it. 

You’re watching it right now, curled up on his couch in pajamas, empty bowl of popcorn abandoned at your side. Moments like this feel equal parts right and bizarre. Tyler’s a killer, and yet you’re spending your Friday night watching Friends together in his living room. It’s strange, but everything about your life is strange. You barely even notice it anymore. 

Tyler shifts beside you; you’re so close on the couch that it seems less like two bodies and more like a wild conglomeration of limbs; a leg here, an arm twisting there, the brush of fingers on the back of your neck. His hipbone is digging into your thigh, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t move if every one of your extremities had fallen asleep. If the couch had set fire.

“You should…maybe move your leg,” Tyler says, breaking you out of your haze. You don’t have to do anything but tilt your head to look at him; when you do, he’s staring back up at you with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks, working his lips together. 

It takes you a moment to realize what he means, to feel that familiar weight pressing into the skin of your thigh. When you do, it’s with a start. Yes, you’ve done this a few times. But not enough for it to be a common occurrence. It may be rare, but it’s certainly not the first time. Once you get your bearings, you find that you’re confident enough to smile down at him, to raise an eyebrow and ask, “Should I?”

He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and you can feel his hips arch up, ever so slightly. “I mean,” he starts, breathy and quiet. “Or you could keep it there. If you want.”

“What do you want?” you ask, sneaking a hand down to the sliver of skin exposed between Tyler’s shirt and his flannel pants. He shivers, but doesn’t answer. “Tyler,” you urge, trailing your fingers over his stomach. 

“Touch me?” he asks, squeezing his eyes shut, tilting his head away. 

And you’re not really in the business of denying him. It takes some adjusting—you do have to move your leg—in order to find the right angle, but Tyler waits patiently as you shimmy your way down the couch, until you can look at him and touch him all at once. You aren’t sure how long he’s been hard, but when you trail your hand down and underneath the waistband of his pants, he gasps too loud for it to have been a short while. 

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, already a little wet, too. As you grasp him, he shoves his face into your shoulder, exhaling long and slow into your skin. “This what you mean?” you ask, maybe a little mean.

He nods. You won’t make him say it—you’re not that mean—but you could. If you asked, he’d answer. You’ve found that’s true in a lot of aspects of your life. It’s a power you’re still scared to wield, no matter how many times Tyler reassures you. You prefer subtlety, to guide him in this way, rather than by giving outright orders. You think he likes it better like this, too, if the way he’s squirming under your touch is anything to go by. 

Friends is still playing in the background, but you’re too distracted to find the remote and mute it. Instead, you tilt your head to press a kiss to Tyler’s hairline, as you start to stroke him in earnest. You try to set a slow pace, but Tyler’s hips chase the contact until it’s fast and hard, just like always. One of these days, you’ll make him sit still, but today is not that day. You let him set the pace, pumping his cock for all it’s worth as he thrusts up into your first. He’s embarrassed, you know, but he barely shows it, apart from the way he hides his face. He’s as enthusiastic as you think he can be, not shy in showing you how much he’s enjoying himself, through little punched-out moans that have the tips of your ears turning red. 

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. All you know is that your wrist is cramping and your bicep is aching, but you still feel like you could do this forever. The sight of Tyler underneath you, panting and sighing and practically shaking, is enough fuel for you for as long as he needs. Him falling apart for you has got to be one of your favorites sights; the sounds pouring out of him are music to your ears. At a particularly loud moan, you glance up, take in his state.

His shoulders are tense, his hands clenched into his fists and his hips staying shock-still. You let yourself smirk; one of the many things you know about Tyler is that he’s not always the best at lasting. “It’s okay, Ty,” you say, whispered into his jaw as you pick up the pace, moving impossibly faster.

He exhales in a gust of air, deflating almost instantaneously; now that he knows he doesn’t have to wait, he lets himself relax, sink into the couch. It’s not long after that that his hips jerk, and he jams his face into your shoulder once more, and you know.

You guide him gently back by the curls on the nape of his neck. There are many things you’ve gotten to know about Tyler, but the face he makes when he comes has got to be one of your favorites. 

[rollingsins]

Jealous Wednesday drabble? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Filled, thanks boo

“He’s like a gnat.” Wednesday seethes. “Buzzing around girls who don’t want his attention.” 

The gnat in question is Xavier Thorpe. 

His crime? Offering you his notes from the phytotoxicology class you’d missed on Tuesday due to a head cold. Wednesday had watched the interaction, and had been seething like a stormcloud all the way back to her dorm room. 

“He was just being friendly, baby.” You say, reaching out to rub her arm. 

Wednesday shoots you a look and withdraws from your touch as if you’d burned her. 

She doesn’t like pet names, or affection when it’s not pre or post-coital. But even worse, she hates when you defend the people she doesn’t like. 

“Do I look like an infant to you, YN?” She asks, all of her ire suddenly turned on you. You blink, a little startled. Her eyebrows are knit, her eyes awash with fury. 

All the fury of a two year old being refused her favorite toy. 

“Right now?” You ask, hesitant, “A little.” 

Wednesday blinks. If possible, her eyes darken even more. And you’re immediately aware you’ve said the wrong thing. 

You sigh. 

“Xavier isn’t interested in me,” You say in an attempt to placate her, “He had a crush on you, remember?” 

Wednesday stares. 

“That was last year,” She says, eyebrows knit, “And once he became imminently aware I would rather sit through a sing-along screening of the Sound of Music than become romantically involved with him, I believe his affections shifted.” 

She eyes you up, as if it’s you who's done something wrong. 

You shrug. 

“Ditto.” You say, well aware of the fruitless attempt to pacify her. There was only one thing that seemed to always convince her. It would come sooner, rather than later. And thankfully, nowadays, Wednesday’s room always seemed to be vacant. Enid too preoccupied with Ajax to ever be home. 

At the prospect of having Wednesday’s dorm room to yourselves, arousal flashes hot and fast through you. 

But Wednesday, as always, is two steps behind. Her jaw clenches. 

“You love The Sound of Music,” She says, voice slightly accusatory, “That means nothing.”

“I love you.” You say, meeting her gaze. It doesn’t waver, “Doesn’t that mean something?” 

Wednesday considers this. Her eyes narrow, like she’s sizing you up. Her eyes flicker, and you know it’s time. 

“Undress,” She says, leaning back slightly, “We are going to copulate.” 

“Sexy.” You say, voice wry, “You sure know how to talk a girl into bed, Wednesday.” 

Wednesday leans forward. 

“Undress.” She insists, “I’m not asking.” 

You cross your legs, gaze defiant. You know she likes this. A little resistance, fire meeting fire. It isn’t fun when it’s easy. 

“I bet Xavier wouldn’t demand me to sleep with him,” You say, “I bet he’d ask, super nice. Call me nice names, tell me he loves me.”

Wednesday’s eyes narrow. 

You half think she’s about to throw you onto the bed and rip your clothes off when she meets your gaze. The storm in her dark eyes doesn’t let up. 

“Undress, please, sweetheart,” She says, through gritted teeth, “I want to remind you you’re mine.” 

You tilt your head, waiting. 

She sighs. 

“And…” She says, as if the pause in her sentence will lessen your desire for her to say the words. She quirks an eyebrow. It doesn’t work. 

 “And I love you.” 

You smile. 

“I love you too,” You tell her, pull your shirt over your head, “And Xavier isn’t going to woo me with phytotoxicology notes. Don’t worry, baby.” 

This time, she allows the epithet. She softens, meeting your submission with a kiss. 

She climbs atop you, a careful maneuver that has her knee fall between your legs in just the right place.  

“Xavier won’t woo you no matter what he does,” She says, as she unbuttons your jeans, “But I’ll remind you why, just in case.”

[toournextadventure]

Wednesday texting reader sappy msgs as reader had to leave and enid steals weds phone and searches it

So like Wednesday's lockscreen is reader her homescreen too

Wednesday has reader saved as some cute little thing too

Just pure fluff!!

Wednesday is secretly a simp, we all know this

you simp

Ever since you had left for break, Enid had to suffer through Wednesday’s phone going off every 20 seconds. At first she had thought it was sweet to know that she was finally getting use out of the phone you had gifted her a few months ago. She would sit there and wonder what you were both talking about considering the relationship seemed to be far more you talking, Wednesday listening.

But if she had to hear one more ding at 4am, she was going to throw the damn phone out of the window.

It was 4:30 in the morning and Enid had been listening to Wednesday’s phone vibrate since 10 last night. She wanted to sleep, it would have been easier if you two would just call on the phone like normal people. But no, you two just had to be texting the whole night because it’s not like Wednesday had a roommate or anything!

She waited impatiently until Wednesday got up and went to the bathroom, foolishly leaving her phone where Enid could easily confiscate it. In her defense, the intent had not been to be nosy! It didn’t really matter to her what you were both talking about (though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious). All she wanted to do was hide the phone for the rest of the night so she could get a little bit of sleep.

Now, if the phone just so happened to light up when she was holding it, it was coincidental. And if the sight of you as the lock screen was enough to spark her curiosity, then she could be forgiven for being a little bit nosy. After all, the secretive, stoic Wednesday Addams had her partner as her lock screen? Her smiling partner?

The fact that there was no passcode on the phone was entirely Wednesday’s fault. It was the easiest thing in the world to unlock the phone and, what do you know, a picture of the two of you was her home screen. And Wednesday was smiling! Enid could have fainted from the surprise right then and there. Why on earth would Wednesday hide such an adorable smile. And how on earth did you manage to get a picture of it? She had to know your secrets.

The phone vibrated again, and Enid swore on her life she hadn’t meant to pry. But she saw your name pop up as “Mi Amor” with a black heart beside it. How could she not look? Oh god, Enid felt herself swoon at everything she saw. Wednesday was practically waxing poetic to you with every text, getting more and more sappy as the night dragged on.

Enid felt her own cheeks getting hot at how ridiculously romantic Wednesday was. No one would have ever guessed she even had the capability for such kind words, but the amount of times she lauded you was incredible. The pet names, the poetry, the absolute love she sent you time after time. She never would have guessed Wednesday capable or even willing of such love.

Well. She was her father’s daughter.

“What are you doing?”

Oh shit. Enid nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of Wednesday. She was standing there in the middle of the room, giving Enid a look that meant she definitely wasn’t playing around. Which Enid knew, but she never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

“I wasn’t snooping,” Enid defended quickly. But the phone vibrated again and Enid’s eyes instantly looked down to read it before looking back up to see Wednesday’s death glare.

“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Wednesday threatened.

“Listen,” Enid held her hands up in surrender, “I never knew you were such a romantic.”

Wednesday gave Enid a look. Only one. Then one big breath in, one slow exhale. That was all it took before Wednesday started after Enid. Enid let out a scream and started running, the phone still in her hands. Wednesday was going to kill her, this was how she was going to die. She typed out a message on the phone to send to you really quickly.

Your girlfriend is going to kill me, send help!

She hoped you would save her. Apparently, you were the only one who could.

[fleetingvow]

Hello, I really loved your writing for Wednesday and was wondering if I could request something.

Reader was hurt badly on the final fight and Wednesday gets worried about her, gets emotional just as she did with Thing. She doesn't leave reader's side until she wakes up and when she does she can't help but hold her because she thought that was it for a moment, and maybe confesses her feelings? You can elaborate it as much as you'd like, I'd just like for that to be the general idea, love some hurt/comfort.

Much love. <3

‘ DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS .

Wednesday Addams x Female Reader.

SYNOPSIS. wednesday addams never cried for anyone, not until she held you fighting for your life, desperately trying to stay alive to return the whispered confession. ( 4.15k words )

NAVIGATION. part one - part two. masterlist.

WARNINGS. major angst. character death ( reader’s ). unproofread. english not being the author’s first language.

NOTE. written in second person’s point of view. another love by tom odell being the angsty essential to produce this fic.

REQUESTED BY. anonymous. thank you for your lovely words, and for trusting my writing to create a perfectly stomach churning plot! do enjoy this work.

LISTEN TO WHILE READING. optional. another love by tom odell.

TAGS. @ryver19 @danysflames

𝗜𝗙 𝗪𝗘𝗗𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗗𝗔𝗬 wasn’t worried about braving the ancient face of Crackstone before, she definitely was now. Not because she was scared of him. It’s because you were the most idiotic person she knew. What were you doing in a battle that you shouldn’t be in? Were you even aware of what you were getting yourself into? She wanted to know what was going through your mind when you marched in the courtyard without a weapon or anything to protect yourself with. Just a glare that wouldn’t do anything.

The fire burning so fierce dancing with the breeze turned slow. Everything seemed too leisure for her liking when she spotted you standing there. It was as if the world had stopped spinning, but it couldn’t possibly now, could it? Xavier was mad enough to try and help, and now you? What were you going to do? Why were you even here?

You weren’t glaring at the pilgrim. You were glaring at her. The blade that was in her possession had shattered and her attention was turned to you. That was the last thing you needed. You hated Wednesday for being the centre of everything because you knew it meant sacrificing so much, even herself.

She used to love seeing you angry and defeated, but not like this. Not this way when you were getting defeated by the monster that stood before her and not her. Not when your hair moved with the wind so slowly as she met your gaze while watching the fire burn in your eyes in the middle of danger. She felt weaker.

You were a vulnerability. A phenomenon in which she, herself, couldn’t even explain.

Paying attention to the movement in your peripheral view, your eyes darted to the figure, slowly coming to the revelation that it was Bianca, in all her grace, standing not so far away from the distracted pilgrim.

You heard a victorious crackle emit from the old man’s mouth, and that’s when you knew. You quickly turned to Wednesday who was trying her best to suppress her noises of struggle. It just made you angrier. Your heart skipped faster in your chest as your mind ran circles in your head, putting it all into shambles that made it difficult for you to think. This anger had neer been felt by you before. It was suffocating, restricting, and it tightened your chest to the point that you almost gasped for air. That’s when you recalled what you came there for.

To help Wednesday put Crackstone back to where he belongs.

You shut your eyes and found yourself a moment before opening them again. When the young Addams thought you had nothing as a weapon, she was wrong. Locking eyes with the siren, you nodded and lifted a hand to reveal the lustrous object from your back. Using your ability, you passed the dagger to the girl who took the blade, understanding the task that she now shouldered.

However, that didn’t provide you much comfort. Wednesday was looking at death straight in the face and your trembling body didn’t stop to just stand around and watch. Your feet dragged you hastily a few feet away from Bianca.

This caught Crackstone’s attention as he slowly turned his head to you, grinning like he faced the Devil in front of him and made a sacrifice for a deal. You couldn’t even describe the disgust and fear you felt as you saw his face fresh from the dead.

“Those who intrude shall join the abomination in the depths of hell!”

You stared at him, narrowing your eyes as you swallowed your spit cautiously to watch his every little move that could be used against you.

What were you doing? You looked stupid! Wednesday’s furrowed eyebrows already said it all. Her heart pounding in her chest almost ripped her open when she saw Crackstone raising the sceptre in his hand, about to conjure such a damage on you. She hated that she couldn’t do anything but look at you, mentally telling you not to do what it is that you’re going to do and run to safety.

You lifted your arm slightly and tried your best to pull the sceptre away, but all it did was drain your energy and create a tension that you couldn’t even control, yourself. You were pulling his source of power, but it seemed as though your telekinetic ability wasn’t enough to do anything. Crackstone was far more powerful. You didn’t stand a chance.

You raised your other hand and conjured an object to hit him in an attempt to distract his attention from the focus he had on his sceptre. He didn’t budge and destroyed it to pieces.

“Enough!” He shouted and with a move of the mace, you were thrown across the courtyard, your back hitting the stone pillars causing you to descend to the ground with an aching body and a sharp grunt.

“Y/N!” It was unrecognisable as to who yelled for your name, but you were tired.

You were shaking extremely now. The statics ringing in your ears became deafening to the point that you didn’t hear what the next thing was. Your vision got blurry, and dark spots started to patch up your vision. You closed your eyelids shut numerously in an attempt to recover, and as you did so, you caught the bits and pieces of what was occurring right in front of you.

Bianca groaned as she toppled on the ground just the same as her. Crackstone looked unfazed as he stood with a stab, the fiery blaze of fire appearing on his back to his lower chest. He turned and soon, it was your turn as you stood. He took the blade to make use of it, but you weren’t having it. Not to Bianca. Not to anyone in that courtyard, except him.

You swiftly got on your feet, ignoring the statics and the migraine that had formed once you stood up. Your limping feet dragged you in front of the siren as you stopped right there with the dagger whipping past the air at lightning speed.

You were getting sick of lifting your hand, but it was needed this time or anyone in this courtyard is dead. You tried to stop the blade from rushing towards you, and for a second, you thought you did.

That was when you caught the smirk on Crackstone’s face. You knew it wasn’t good. So did Bianca. Your eyes widened in fear, but you didn’t have much time to react.

When with that, the blade pierced through your flesh with the sound of the metal cutting through your skin and burying deep in your body as you let out a shortened gasp. With pursed lips, you looked down and saw the dagger on your lower abdomen. The blood was quickly seeping through your clothes, shining under the joined light provided by the moon, the stars, and the fire that Wednesday thought used to burn in your eyes.

Before you completely succumbed to the dizziness was the sight of Crackstone turning to Wednesday. Then, it blurred. All your eyes could gather was the fire getting fiercer in the form of Crackstone’s figure. Was it fire? You didn’t know, but you heard the low monstrous scream that almost made you let out a victorious cry.

But once the final disappearance of his body started in the blaze, it burst into a powerful surge of what his power once was, causing a strong wave that wiped the fire off the courtyard.

You looked at Wednesday who returned the gesture as she glared at you with her sharp narrowed eyes. You plummeted to the ground shortly after with Bianca rushing over.

Wednesday marched forward and pushed the siren aside in haste as she kneeled down next to you. Your breaths were hitching, your hand laid on the dagger, stained with the red hue of your metallic blood. Beads of sweat started forming on your forehead which felt odd to you as you began to feel colder each minute.

“Don’t you dare pull out the knife,” Wednesday’s command made you groan. You could feel the metal in you, and it was the most discomforting sensation.

Wednesday didn’t know how to act or feel. She didn’t even know what to think, but the fact that you laid there on the ground, bleeding out as you trembled made her lose her mind. She couldn’t have that or else she’d lose her composure.

“I’ll call for help,” Bianca proclaimed before running out of the courtyard.

But that wasn’t the end of it all when you and Wednesday’s ears perked up at the sound of a gun cocking in the distance. And lo and behold was Thornhill with a gun in her hand, aimed at the girl who slowly stood up to confront Laurel.

“You brought a gun to a sword fight. It’s probably the first smart decision you’ve made today.”

“I might not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I get to kill you, Wednesday.”

You groaned and shut your eyes from the stinging pain, your eyes getting tired to keep wide open as yet another fight occurred. Laurel had her gun pointed straight on Wednesday, but it was as if you didn’t feel the pain when a bee appeared followed by Eugene with his bright smile that seemed to crack the tension into two, replacing the delight of the moon to the shine of the sun.

You could’ve exceeded the amount of the stars of thanking him for saving Wednesday, but your breaths were getting shorter, and you knew there and then that this was probably the last time you’ll ever feel your heart beating in your chest.

You swallowed the lump on your throat. No, you can’t cry. Not now. Not here on the ground.

“Eugene, search the school for an emergency medical kit. Make it quick before I dig a grave.”

Wednesday turned to you, not wasting another minute to rush next to you again. She put her hand on your chest to feel the pound of your hope inside. You didn’t like this weak profile of you in front of the girl you so badly wanted to defeat just because you saw a bit of yourself in her.

( Cue the start of the music )

You always hated your reflection, hence why when she attended Nevermore, she had become nothing but a walking mirror yet also an ironic form of what you despised.

She despised you equally. You always gave her that stare she didn’t like. Wednesday found you to be a scuff on the floor she’d walk past on, but you became addicting to defeat that even winning against Bianca had become pointless when she spotted you in the crowd and challenged you in the archery field.

“It hurts,” you mumbled shakily as you tried your best to hold a noise down your throat.

She hated that. She hated that it affected her. Wednesday shouldn’t care for you, not after all the pent up anger she felt when you were around. Not the anger that made her want to stick around you more in order to rub it in your face that she was so much better than you tried to prove yourself to be.

A noise escaped your lips.

That made her close her eyes. She never did that. She wanted to remove the sight of you in front of her, and she thought it was just because you looked so human — weak. Or was it because of the hurt that she felt in her stomach? She has had enough. She wanted cotton to block her ears from your noise. You had been suppressing the noises, but God, this noise was different now. You were suffering, and it made her stomach churn once she noticed that she knew that.

Why would she know that about you?

“Wednesday,” you called, your voice being something she couldn’t get herself to listen to but still tried.

She opened her eyes and clenched her jaw.

“You’re about to cry.” Wednesday remarked dryly, hiding the fact that it made her want to stab her eyes for noticing such a detail. “It’s unnecessary.”

Who was she kidding? She had an arrow that pierced through the flesh of her shoulder and it already stung. What more a stab that she knew what felt like? Especially twisted. It was an electrocution with tenfold the increased voltage on the maimed part of the body. It wasn’t just that. There was more to it than she saw from you now.

You chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that too.”

You didn’t want things to end like this. Wednesday wasn’t a mirror. She was a similarity that you had an opportunity to know and relate to. You had a chance for her to be your friend, but instead of taking that chance, you looked at her like a competition just because you hated the aspect of yourself that you tried to link with her.

Wednesday tensed up when your bloody hand found hers on the dirty ground. Your fingers touching hers making her head spin faster than the Earth on its axis. There was a sensation there. On the spot that your cold hands inflicted upon the place of contact. A slight feeling that caused her to look down at it, her eyes going from anger to something gentle and unexplainable. You were holding her hand. She wanted to process that in her head.

You were holding her hand.

Wednesday wanted to kill after the contact, because the look you had on your face mirrored hers. She knew it wasn’t a good sign.

“Can we pretend like we didn’t try to kill each other for the whole term?” Your voice was barely a voice. The question had become a whisper that only she could hear.

No, no. You weren’t doing this. She didn’t want it. She didn’t need it. The young Addams never asked for it but why were you doing it? God, you were stubborn. She hated you so much!

But you were you. There was nothing she could do about it. You were your own person, and that’s perhaps . . . Wednesday looked at your joined hands once again. It made her feel.

You made her feel.

Every aspect of you made her feel alive.

She thought she’d known thrill and the concept of romance all her life, but she was sure that every bit and piece of what she knew about it could be matched with this — this fluttery feeling in her stomach. The spark crackling on her skin that you were in contact with. Your eyes sending shivers down her spine. This state of you that angered her so much. Her knees shaking from fear of having no one in Nevermore to compete with once again.

Why did she feel this way?

She was supposed to despise you. Wednesday pursed her lips. She looked down at yours. There was a night that she pondered over why the first thing she kept seeing was your lips when she saw you. Then, after that one thought came the billions in her head when she lied still on her cold bed in the middle of the night that would sometimes even last until the light of dawn. She thought it was just because she hated you.

She thought it was just because you provoked such an emotion in her that was far too complicated for her to comprehend. Now, Wednesday wanted to test a theory, but was there even a theory to be tested, or was it the truth?

“I never hated you.”

She heard laughter from you. Was it funny that she said that? Was that statement pointless to you? Did it mean nothing? Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, her eyelashes doing that thing you usually found amusing.

You looked away and focused on the blanket of stars glinting so brightly above you. You let out a breath, “Huh.”

Should you tell her the truth? “Since I’m dying, I think you deserve the truth.”

That made her look up at you again, tearing her gaze away from your hand again. you almost laughed at her if you weren’t so badly injured now.

“I think I never hated you too, Wednesday.”

If an instrument was checking the pounding of her heartbeat, the machine would have gone crazy as the lines came in shambles. It was the same for you, but how would you know? You — why was she staring at you like that?

Why were her eyes the ones glossy now?

“You’re about to cry.” You commented, ignoring the sharp pain that started to become worse now that you thought was like the one before. You didn’t think much of it. Yes, it was painful, but why would you? “It’s unnecessary.”

You gasped at yet another pain. Your hands clutched hers, making her shift in her spot, her fingers squeezing you back.

That didn’t help your already dying heartbeat. There was more to what you said before, but you had to refrain yourself drom embarrassing yourself in front of her just in case this was the last.

And you were sure this was your last.

You vowed never to fall for the traps of love, most especially its romantic form. You saw and experienced many things that you never wanted to look back on ever again. However, you hated how your wall slowly crumbled down for Wednesday who almost shared the same perspective as you, although hers was more glum and grim. Yours was about the matter of love. Hers was about life.

Maybe this similarity was the reason you managed to be close to her. Not that close. Just this close. Just this in which you’d share the peace in front of the quiet lake without saying another word. Just holding each other’s gazes on occasions and looking away, with you clearing your throat and her bumping your shoulder to the point that it would ache later on for no reason. Just stealing glances at certain times while the other was accompanied by another at the Rave’N. Just fighting most of the time. Just acting like nothing happened the next. Just ignoring each other’s presence while looking back when walking past each other in the corridors of Nevermore.

“Y/N?”

You gasped, “I can’t — ” You panted for air again, “Breathe.”

“Don’t speak.” Her trembling hand removed its grip from yours as she stood up, frantic yet graceful when she spotted and obtained the blade she banished Crackstone with on the ground. The girl cut the edge of her long skirt and proceeded to take a long piece, careful not to make her own shorter than it should be.

She then proceeded to kneel down next to you. No, you weren’t leaving her hanging like this. Your truth was barely the truth, and she wnated to hear from you. She badly wanted to hear your voice again in full volume, in that pitch that she always knew.

Wednesday cried for Thing, but God, you? She knew she’d fill an ocean. This couldn’t be happening to her again.

She hated you now. She hated how scared you were making her feel in that moment. Were you even aware of what you were doing to her? She was supposed to be in her best composure, handling this in a graceful way that wouldn’t require her to shake so much, to curse in her head just because you were struggling.

Why did she care?! She cared so much it was too unnecessary, and her eyes were starting to water from this sight of you.

The girl wrapped the cloth around the knife that she couldn’t pull out. She put pressure on the spot but her heart dropped to her stomach the most when a tear escaped your eye.

Wednesday’s eyes widened. She quickly took you by the shoulders and laid your head on her lap in a hurry. Now was the time that she didn’t know what to do the most.

You couldn’t leave her like this.

She couldn’t bear it. She wouldn’t.

She wanted to spend another moment alone in the quiet in front of the lake, staring at your reflections and stealing glances over the water.

She wanted to ponder about you at night, questioning why it was your lips first that she captured when she looked back at you when you passed by each other in the hallways.

She wanted — no, demanded to see your annoying face that kept popping up in her nightmares and daydreams to show up beaming at her, laughing at some stupid joke someone told.

Your life story can’t just end like this.

What was she to do without you? Wednesday could imagine a world where it was just you and her living off the taunts of each other, competing to wind, but enjoying each other’s company.

She envisioned you laying your head on her shoulder after a long exhausting day, ranting to her about how your day went. She could envision herself just nodding, being the same old her that people often thought did not care enough.

Did you care enough?

Because she did. Enough to hold you in her arms, to embarrass herself in front of you.

How the mighty have fallen for the graces of someone like you? You thought.

“If you die on me, I will make history repeat itself just to bring you back and I'll stab you again myself.”

You used what bit of your energy was left to quirk your lips up to form a curve. You liked Wednesday.

It was clearer than the water you occasionally stared at for hours in her company.

“Out of all the people in the world, the ones I share the same blood with, used to tell my secrets to,” you quietly gasped for air to continue, “This, Wednesday Addams . . .”

Your clutch on her arm was starting to loosen as your eyelids started to slowly drop down to meet the darkness.

“This is the only time I feel given a damn about.”

Wednesday’s eyes didn’t know which to focus on. They darted on the dagger, the blood, the cloth, your eyes, your parted lips — “Y/N?” That was the first time her call for someone had a frantic frightened tone.

Your hand on the ground without another sign of movement was a touch of something that amde her feel as if someone had poured acid in her stomach. Her hand made its way to your cheek, not caring whether the blood on her hand got on your face.

Why weren’t you waking up? Why weren’t you opening her eyes and shooting up from the ground to tell her that you were just joking? She didn’t care if it was a fucked up prank, as long as she knew you were still there.

But no, God no, you weren’t.

“Wake up, Y/N.”

She shook you, but there was nothing. She placed two fingers on the side of your neck to check your pulse but she couldn’t get any sign of it.

A tear fell.

Wednesday halted. The girl touched her cheek, wiping the drop of what she vowed never to do again and leisurely examined her finger that shone with the wet surface because of the tear.

There she knew.

Wednesday wished she had realised it before, but no, it took you reaching the end of your own life story before she could even understand.

She knew a bit about you.

She knew you were Y/N and that you used to live in a small home in a small town in Romania where you had a family that pushed you around just because you were an outcast. That you had a gift that none of them could accept, for it was deemed to be witchcraft or that it made them insecure to use as a reason to make you feel small.

She knew you used to have friends who spilled all your secrets that made you fall from your grace. From being at the top down to the six foot level underground.

She knew you had a fling. She knew it didn’t end well. She knew your family put you in Nevermore to get rid of you and find yourself.

She knew that you cried yourself to sleep, knew that you believed that no one cared.

She knew what was going on in the back of your mind when you wiped away your tears in front of the lake.

Wednesday just wished she never looked away when she saw who you were. She wished she never resisted what it was that she felt.

Because what you went through? She knew it was that much of a cut and the stab that Crackstone had done to you was the thousandth.

Or maybe it was the words that were left unsaid?

AUTHOR’S NOTE. part two will be coming up soon! this will be edited tomorrow since it’s so late already and i have to wake up in about four hours again. if you want to get tagged for the next part, just leave a comment. thank you!

[simp4wom3n]

ANGST thats it (kinda long hehe sorry)

Basically reader and Wednesday are dating, r is very caring and all like leaving some food and water for her cuz she knows Wednesday hasnt eaten yet or occasionally, Wednesday slumps her back in a hard chair, r is there to put a pillow and cushion her fall but because Wednesday is busy with the investigation she rarely spends time with r so when she was in her dorm doing her investigation and all r bugs her for attention till it got to Wednesday's nerve and snapped at reader and tell her that they should break up. Until Wednesday realized what r did for her when she slumps her back or forgets to eat and other stuff. Then ended up missing her badly until it came to the point she isolates herself from everyone barely eats and goes out of the dorm so Enid convinces reader to check up on Wednesday cuz she wont open up to anyone but her and that got reader emotional then they get back together

Hi!!

WE LOVE ANGSTTTTT

This is amazing I know I’m probs gonna cry when I write this <3

[poisonlove]

We can't be friends | w.a

Request @ortegalvr

Pairing: wednesday Addams X reader

Words: 8 k

Author: I try it

Belladonna

The belladonna plant, also known as Atropa belladonna, is notorious for being poisonous, but some of its chemicals can be used in medicine to treat certain conditions, as in traditional medicine. However, its use requires extreme caution and medical supervision due to its toxicity.

I scrunch up my nose and look at the words in our herbology book with confusion. I had to do thorough research on poisonous plants and any potential benefits they might bring, so I decided to take advantage of this research time at the Weathervane.

"Here's your macchiato," I raise my head from the book and see the barista. The brown-eyed, curly-haired guy gives me a small smile. "Thank you," I return the smile and notice him walking back to the counter, wiping some cups.

I sigh audibly and sip the coffee, closing my eyes to the delicious flavor. It wasn't Italian, but it was still good, less watery than I imagined. I lick my lower lip and return my eyes to my notes, tapping the pen on the paper, thinking of some other poisonous plant.

I needed to get a good grade.

The sound of the bell in the shop marks someone's arrival, and I look up curiously, seeing a familiar figure. A sensation of chill runs through my body, my heart pounding frantically against my chest.

I couldn't move.

Wednesday Addams was accompanied by a girl, a blonde with colorful highlights. The blonde was smiling broadly and chatting with the brunette, who was looking at her with her usual apathetic gaze. Wednesday was wearing an all-black school uniform, her unmistakable braids hanging over her shoulders.

Her eyes flick in my direction, and I feel my shoulders slump, my eyes softening as I look at Wednesday after so many years. Wednesday seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't show it. Her posture remained perfect, no hint of shock or surprise, just her eyes staring into mine as if trying to read something in them.

The blonde, noticing where Wednesday was looking, leans towards her, probably asking who I was, interrupting the staring contest that had developed between me and her. "I didn't know you knew anyone here in Jericho," is the only thing I manage to catch from their dialogue, and I lower my head to the table, playing with my hands.

It was a habit I had when I was nervous and embarrassed, which was plausible considering it's been years since I've seen little Addams. "Wed, are you okay?" the blonde asks again, two tables away from me. I purse my lips, feeling bitterness in my mouth at the nickname she gave her.

Wed? Now you're letting her call you by my nickname? I thought bitterly.

I sigh audibly and turn my attention back to my assignment, trying to ignore the conversations between the blonde and Wednesday, even though the latter barely spoke. I unconsciously smile, knowing it was just like her to behave this way.

Let's say that every time we went out together, I was the one who talked the most of the two, the brunette just looked at me without blinking, her deer-like eyes watching me with curiosity as I talked and talked. It made me smile and shiver at the same time to be watched with such intensity, but Wednesday loved listening to me talk, she always said she liked my voice

Oleander... Poison... Wednesday.

I knew perfectly well that Wednesday loved this kind of thing, studying every kind of weapon or poisonous plant, a passion her mother passed on to her. But this connection came to mind only now seeing Addams' figure.

I raise my gaze, unconsciously looking at the girl who was my downfall, the love of my life... A girl I still think could be mine. I see her talking to the blonde, smiling shyly, almost imperceptibly at her words.

Apparently, she can understand you, right?

Because I'm different from her, right?

"No! You can't understand! I don't want to hurt you," Wednesday's voice suddenly rises, looking at me seriously.

"But..." I start, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.Wednesday turns her back on me and walks towards the entrance of my room, her hand on the doorknob, her back rigid.

"We can't keep seeing each other, I don't want to see you anymore," her voice lowers again, a cold chill creeping into my bones.

"You're leaving me?" I whisper, looking at the brunette in disbelief. Wednesday doesn't even hint at turning around, her shoulders slumping as she opens the door.

"Wed," I say timidly, my voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. Addams tightly grips the doorknob, her posture still perfect.

"Don't be pathetic, y/n... You're smarter than this," she says with such coldness that it leaves me stunned. After this sentence, Wednesday walks through the door of my room, leaving my house and my life.

It's been 3 years since that moment, and I still shiver at the memory.

I clench my jaw tightly, trying to suppress the anger and pain I still feel, as I delve into my assignment, trying to find comfort in the pages of the book.

"What do you want to order, Wed?" asks a high-pitched voice. I look at the paper while waiting for her rather obvious response.

"Iced espresso," Wednesday replies neutrally.

Her favorite, I know.

Apparently, she still liked the coffee I made her try at my house during our first study project.

Umm... What can I offer you?" I ask nervously as I watch the brunette marveling around my kitchen. Wednesday touches my microwave and looks at it closely.

"What do you have?" she asks spontaneously, her voice small but determined.

"I asked you for a reason, don't you think?" I chuckle timidly, smiling at Addams' strangeness. Wednesday didn't seem like a very... Simple girl, indeed, she had a morbid sense of humor and a loyalty to the color black.

Wednesday gazes into my eyes, making me blush at their intensity. Black eyes stare into mine without blinking, whether curious or annoyed, I still don't know.

"What's that?" she points to the coffee machine, and I blink incredulously.

"You really don't know what it is?" I ask in surprise, and she tilts her head sideways, analyzing me with her gaze.

"It's a coffee machine... Do you want to try my family's famous iced espresso?" I ask proudly, my eyes lighting up with excitement.

The corners of Addams' mouth lift, and she timidly nods her head.

I shake my head and try to focus, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek before falling onto the book. I clench my jaw and try not to cry. Focus on the task.

Don't be weak, don't be pathetic

"Enid, can you hurry up and finish the frappé? It's almost writing time," Wednesday asks with a hint of irritation, earning a glare from what I now know is called Enid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch their interaction, Wednesday's black eyes pointing towards my direction again. I look away towards her features: high cheekbones, full lips, a stoic but incredibly attractive gaze. Wednesday remains motionless, staring at me, and I surrender to her gaze, starting to pack up my things to put them in my backpack.

The memory of our first date...

We were in the dark room of Wednesday's house, enveloped by the tense and mysterious atmosphere of a horror movie playing on the big screen. Sitting on the couch, I was completely immersed in the plot, but every now and then a shiver of terror would make me jump.

I felt the tension building inside me as the scenes became increasingly eerie. My hands were clenched into fists on my knees, and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might burst from my chest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.

Suddenly, a particularly scary scene materialized on the screen, and I couldn't hold back a small scream of terror. Without hesitation, Wednesday grabbed my hand firmly, surprising me with her quick action.

The touch of her hand on mine made me jump, but immediately I felt a sense of calm spreading inside me. Her fingers were cold, but the grip was comforting, as if she wanted to protect me from the terror surrounding usI looked at Wednesday with gratitude, finding comfort in her dark and deep eyes.

She didn't say a word, but her simple gesture spoke more than a thousand words. In that moment, I understood that I wasn't alone, that she was there with me, ready to support me.

So, with Wednesday's hand in mine, I faced the rest of the movie with a renewed sense of courage, knowing that no matter how terrifying it was, I could overcome it with her by my side.

Our first kiss, which happened later that evening.

Wednesday and I locked eyes, a silence filled with tension and emotion enveloping the room.

Our gaze met, and I could sense the same uncertainty I felt.Then, slowly, Wednesday leaned towards me, her eyes fixed on mine with intensity. My heart was pounding so hard I feared it might burst, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

Her lips brushed against mine cautiously, as if she was afraid of hurting me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my face, and a shiver ran down my spine as I leaned in closer to her. Our first kiss was a moment of pure enchantment, a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions.

Wednesday's lips were soft and warm against mine, and the contact was so intense that for a moment it seemed like the world around us stopped.

An onslaught of memories overwhelms me, making me feel vulnerable. My heart breaks at the memories of what we were, of what we shared.

I feel like that flood of memories could easily drive me to madness, but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire. I just want to let this story die, and I'll be alright.

"Shit," I whisper, clenching my jaw tightly.

I stand up from the chair, and the cup near me falls to the ground, attracting the attention of the others. Tyler, the barista, walks over to me and crouches down to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say with concern. "It's okay, accidents happen," he says, smiling kindly.

My eyes glance at Wednesday, and I see her turn her head upon hearing the noise. The blonde next to her continues to drink her frappé, unfazed by the events. Wednesday keeps looking at me in a strange way, her eyes... Glassy. They're kind. Her body invites me to approach and I freeze at the thought of standing just a few steps away from her, face to face.

Maybe she wants to talk and sort things out?

Be friends?

I purse my lips and break the eye contact between us. I grab the backpack with my assignments inside and look at Tyler with concern, who smiles broadly at me.

I give him a small smile and leave the shop, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

We can't be friends, there are too many feelings.

But I'd like to just pretend, maybe one day not too far away I'll be able to.

But a part of me... Wait until you like me again.

[kaereth]

Another wenclair kofi - this time Little Mermaid AU!

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

could u do xavier and reader being rivals and he’s always calling reader babe and says “step up ur game, babe” 🧎‍♀️

I MIGHT START TO THINK

pairings: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader summary: ^^^ warnings: light swearing notes: the reader is said to had telekinesis. this is kind of really long

Xavier sat across the room from you, watching as you wrote down in your book.

you two had no reason to not like each other, but it didn't stop you from tearing at each other's throats, throwing snarky comments and death glares at each other.

"so I've decided to set a goal for the class. over the semester, each week you'll be given different sets of tasks that you will need to complete. people who don't will get it done each week will be eliminated until only one stands and wins. He or She will win a prize" the teacher explained

"so it's a challenge to the best?" Xavier smirked at the teacher.

"exactly" she nodded

you looked back at Xavier as he turned to you again with a smug smile on his face

"these challenges will be set each monday and finish the following monday. they will be spread throughout all subjects, meaning some of you might have an advantage in some. they will include things like planting plants, training things, creating things and will be some that will involve studying and writing as well" the teacher announced

"what's our first challenge?" Yoko asked

"you'll be attempting to grow one of these flowers" she pointed to the ghost orchid in the case

"are there rules?" Enid questioned

"the only rule is no stealing each others work or plagiarism in the writing tasks. if you fail to do any of the work your will be disqualified. if your flower is dead or not yet bloomed it will be a fail and you are out" she replied with a smile

"each of you will be given one seed to grow. you will not be given another under any circumstances, they are all able to grow and if they can't it's because of you not the seed" she said, gowing around, handing a little zip-lock bag of a single seed in it to each student.

the bell rang for lunch and everyone got out of their seats

"see you next lesson!"

you walked out of the room, with a specific tall and long haired boy trailing behind you

"the game is on, babe" he winked when he walked past you, heading off with Ajax

--

you walked into class, holding your Orchid in a clay pot, seeing everybody else's

you saw Kent's and a few others wilted or hasn't blossomed orchids and smiled in your success in growing it

"mine looks better" his voice called from behind you, your rolled your eyes as you saw Xaviers flower

"it looks like it's about to die" you scoffed

"things are so much more beautiful when they're on the urge of death, it makes it more exciting" he remarked

"class! take your seats" Thornhill called, walking into the room. everyone took their seats and and she walked to each desk. telling people if their out or not

"well done, L/n" she nodded at you with an impressed look on her face. you turned behind you where Xavier sat.

"there's no way she'll except yours" you stated

"we'll see about that" he said before you turned around

she got to Xavier's table and looked at his orchid, she told him it looks good and that's he's still in before walke to the next person

"told you" he whispered, leaning over his desk to get to your ear

he made your blood boil.

Thornhill walked to the front of the room, explaining your next challenge for the people who were still in. the people who were eliminated had to 15 push ups

-

that went on for the whole semester. You and Xavier going at each other's throats, trying to get the best work in to make it better than the others

you would do better at some, he would do better at others. but this one who knew he would do better. there were 7 people left in the challenge and you were trying you best

it was a scavenger hunt with the ticket to be in the next round at the end.

you had been stuck on your third riddle for a few hours

"what could this mean?" you groaned, hanging upside down off your bed, talking to Enid who had gotten out in the fourth round.

"let me hear it again" she said

"I always stay as still as can be. I have the power to move, but not literally." you repeated for the millionth time

"still? a lot of things are still. but move? I'm not sure" she shrugged "i have the power to move, but not literally" she whispered to herself

"I thought trees at first but they can move in the wind" you stated

"that's true. what does it mean by it can move but not literally, if it can move, it can move. if it can't literally move then it can't move" she huffed

"I know"

you to sat there quietly while you thought

"well what if it's means you can move it but it can't move itself?" you suggested, getting some weird idea in your head

"that doesn't make sense though" she sighed

you looked at your desk, seeing a little figurine of a three headed dog

"A statue!?" you sat up on the bed and looked at her

she thought for a second, repeating the riddle before nodding her head

"that sounds right, but which one, there's a lot in our school" she pointed out,

"so I'll just look at all of them" you sighed before getting up, hurrying out the door, going the each statue

you got to your third one, the Poe statue, you looked around it, peaking around the legs and foot before you looked to what he was holding, a book with 5 envelopes, meaning 2 people already got it before you

"not too bad" you muttered to yourself

you grabbed the envelope, getting down and opening it, reading it to yourself

the second last clue.

I'm a bed without sheets, and I'm always dirty it read

"a dirty bed?" you thought to yourself, walking around the school

"you need to step up your game if you want to beat me. Babe" the familiar voice echoed throughout the room. you looked around but didn't see him, until you looked up, he leaned on the railings of the staircase

"stop calling me that" you huffed

"alright, babe" he smiled cockily

"are you holding a flower?" you questioned him confused

"why yes, do you want it?" he asked before dropping it, letting the small flower flow down to you.

you picked it up as it dropped at your feet. noticing the flower was ripped from the ground. you realised the answer to the riddle.

"thanks, Idiot" you laughed

"you're very welcome, babe" he smiled at you

you ran out and and went to the flowerbed in the yard of the school. you looked around everywhere for it but didn't find it anywhere. you questioned it before thinking of the other possibilities the clue could have lead to

"that doesn't make sense" you thought to yourself

you repeated your actions and looked over it again

"you look lost, babe. didn't think I was leading you to the answer, did you?" Xavier chuckled behind you

"it was the only reasonable answer" you rolled your eyes

"I would help you but I really want to win" he spoke disappointedly

"I don't need your help"

"sure seems like you do" he shrugged before walking off, past the garden beds where student grew some foods

your eyes lit up and you scurried over there, looking through the big lettuce, finding the last envelope, you thought for a second before taking the other one's too. throwing them away in the bin. there was no chance the other's would win this challenge without them, which meant more chance of beating Xavier

you read the letter

the building that has the most stories

you thought of the buildings in town, but there was no way she would make us go that far for it, and she said everything was on the premises, meaning it had to be in the school

you thought through

"stories, like history? like the most history it has to offer or tell?" Enid quizzed when you told her.

"maybe, but isn't a building, this is arguably the only building. so that doesn't help.

"what about rooms in the building? like the room that has the most history?" she lifted an eyebrow

"yeah, but what would that be? I would say the quad but that's not a room" you groaned

"what if the answer is really simple. like the history rooms?" she proposed

"I feel like it wouldn't be that easy. it had to be hard" you shook your head

"well stories are books, right? what about the library?" you thought

"that makes sense"

--

"thank god" you prayed, finding your ticket to the next round

"wow, didn't know you were this smart"

you turned around and saw Xavier

he walked up to you and reached over, grabbing his ticket and smiled down at you as he had you against the bookshelf of the open library

"though you're pretty stupid for leading me here, babe" he smirked down at you

"I didn't lead you here, you followed me" you glared up at him

"who cares, there's no rules" he whispered

"I'll beat you" you hissed

"i'm sure you will, babe" he pouted sarcastically

"you're an ass" you barked

"and you're a babe, babe" he winked

"get off me" you grunted, pushing him off you

"hey, hey, hey. don't resolve to violence, sweetheart" he chuckled softly

you walked past him. leaving the library

"good luck, babe!" he yelled out to you

--

only two remains in the challenge, you and Xavier

it was an in class test, Thornhill would say questions and you had to answer the fastest to get the point. they're questions of all topics

"what is a three headed dog called?" she asked

Xavier pressed his button "Cerberus"

"when was Jericho's first pilgrim settlement?"

"1625" you answered

"and who is Jericho's founder?"

"Joseph Crackstone" you answered first again

there's 50 answers in total. and the score is 23 both ways. 4 more questions to reveal the winner

"for the last questions, you will take turns answering, I'll ask you a question and if you get it wrong, you won't get the point and the question goes to the other person." Thornhill explains

"good luck, Babe. I'll go easy on you" he joked

"Xavier, what year was Ye Olde Fudgery established?" she asked

"1945" he said "that's wrong, mister Thorpe"

"you knew that one" you whispered to him.

"I know" he smiled

"Y/n, question goes to you"

you looked at Xavier before answering faulsley

"1955" you looked at her

"that's correct"

"alright then" he turned to Thornhill

"Y/n, what route are we located on"

you looked over at Xavier before purposely answering incorrectly

"route 54" you answered.

"wrong. Xavier" she turned to him

"route 22?" he replied, looking at you

"correct" she nodded

"Xavier, what do carnivorous plants reward their pollinators with?"

"sexual trickery"

"correct"

"the winner comes down to this last question" she paused "Y/n"

"yes" you nodded, ready for the question

"who was the artist who painted 'Mona Lisa?'" she asked

you took a deep breath before looking over at Xavier. you wanted to saw it, but something gold you not to. so you said someone else

"Michelangelo" you sighed

"that's incorrect. Xavier, same question"

he looked over at the regret on your face and didn't want to win if you were letting him

"Vincent van Gogh" he looked away from you as you stared at him

"we can't leave it as a tie. so we need another question"

"what are you doing? I was letting you win" you whispered

"I don't want to win" he confessed quietly

"Xavier? how many bones does an adult human have?" Thornhill questioned

"one hundred and fifty" Xavier answered incorrectly

"wrong, Y/n?"

"one hundred and ninety" you lied

this went on for a while, you two going back and fourth saying the wrong answers until Thornhill got disappointed

"alright then, both of you win" she sighed

"that's not how it works, there can only be one winner" you fought, looking at Xavier with a glare as you finished speaking

"then answer the question correctly, I know you know all of the answers" Xavier scoffed

"I know you do too" you crossed your arms

"that's enough you too. you both win"

---

"why'd you do that?" Xavier came up behind you

"what do you mean?" you blinked

"why did you try to let me win?" he threw his hand up in the air before dropping them to his sides

"you tried to let me win too" you laughed

"you did it first" he shrugged

"so you didn't need to continue it" you rolled your eyes

"you better stop doing that, babe. I might start to think you have a little crush on me" he smirked

"I might start to think that too"

"you wanna know what I think?" he looked at his feet

"let's hear it" you took a deep breath

"I think I like you" he confessed

"I think I hate you..." you said, his face slightly fell "...because I like you too much" you admitted

he smiled at you, showing his dimples

"scared me a little there, babe" he sighed

------------------------------------------------

[deadlynavigation]

I think this is the place for requests? But honey, please I beg I think this is the place for requests? If so, can you to do a male! Wednesday Addams x reader where either (1) he’s super ultra clingy with the reader all day or (2) the reader meets his friends for the first time and he ends up being quite possessive even though MOST, not all, his friends know not to do anything? Thhhaaaannnkkkk yyyoooouuuu ❤️

Clingy

Warnings: mentions of not eating, like one swear, insinuations to smut (all very minor)

Author’s note: This was such a fun request! I went with the first one bc i honestly don’t know who Wednesday would befriend. Hope you enjoy 😊

It’s a silent Saturday morning in winter. No birds chirp outside, no sunlight glares at you through your windows, no visitors brave the cold in order to come visit you and Wednesday. It’s perfect.

You’re snuggled up in your warmest blankets, nabbed from the dusty linen closet. Wednesday chose a more unconventional way of warming up, which is to hold on to you as if you’re going to suddenly disappear. And though you appreciate the sentiment, you need to get up–you’ve been laying here for half an hour, waiting for your partner to rouse and remove himself from you. So far, he’s stayed fast asleep.

Soon, it’s been an hour, and you’re getting quite restless.

“Wednesday, babe.” you whisper-shout, wiggling around in his grip. No response.

“Wednesday,” You repeat in a louder voice, shaking him a little as you try to escape. This does the trick, and he slowly gets up before settling back down and holding you tighter than he was before.

You’re now even more trapped–that wasn’t part of the plan. “No, honey, I need to get up. I wanted to get to the shops today, remember?”

Wednesday looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. “Cara mia,” he says with a kiss to your lips. You start to melt into it, your body seeking the comfort this man provides, before you remember your mission. You pull back, breaking the spell.

“Wednesday, I’m serious. I actually want to do things today.”

He sighs and reluctantly lets go of you. “If you must.” You smile, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that he tries to prolong. You scurry away before he can and jump out of bed, eager to make up for the time lost. There’s a long list of shit to get done today, and it’s going to hang over your head until it’s complete. Wednesday is well aware of this, but that doesn’t mean he encourages it–so he makes it as difficult as possible for you to fall into that pattern.

Wednesday quietly observes you from the bed as you go through the motions, only dragging himself out of his comfy nest when you open the closet. You’ve shedded your pajamas already, on the hunt for some clothes suitable for running errands.

He wraps his arms around your waist, watching your face as you consider your options. Of course, he thinks you’d look fabulous in anything (including nothing), but he’s been told that’s not a very helpful opinion. So Wednesday leaves you to your decisions while he burrows into your neck, landing the occasional peck on your skin. His breath tickles your neck, and you can feel his words as he mumbles about it being much too early for you to be up.

Soon enough, you turn to him with a warning in your eyes. Wednesday can be very distracting, and you can’t let yourself fall into his arms just yet. Instead, you walk further into the closet and grab some trousers along with a top you were eyeing, throwing them on and covering Wednesday’s favorite view.

“Must you go, my love? There is so much to do here.” He whines. You pay no mind to him, strutting out the door and down the steep staircase.

Wednesday chases after you. “Will you at least eat first?”

You turn to him, and as desperate as you are to stay put and give Wednesday all of yourself, you hold strong. You walk back to where he stands at the start of the stairs, wrapping your arms around his neck and touching your nose to his in a lighthearted gesture. “My love, I promise, as soon as I get home we’ll eat or cuddle or do any other plans you had.” You seal your promise with a kiss.

Wednesday groans as you pull away, chasing after your mouth before settling. “But right now?”

“But right now, I have to get to town.” And with that, you nab the car keys from one of the many tables in the mansion’s foyer and briskly walk out the door.

It feels like it’s been days to Wednesday when you finally return, the door slamming shut behind you as you try to balance bags on your hips. Almost like a cat, Wednesday strolls up to you, stealing both bags before setting them down and pulling you to him by your shirt’s collar.

“Missed me?” You giggle, and those are the only words you’re able to get out before Wednesday collides his mouth onto yours. You move with him as he backs you into the wall, gasping when your back hits it. He forces his tongue into your mouth as you gasp, literally stealing your breath. The tension builds as you explore each other’s mouths, breaking away for air and diving right back in multiple times. You stand there for long minutes, raking your hands through his hair as his hands explore your entire body, from your hips to your neck to your thighs.

When he does pull away, you’re greeted with a beautiful sight. Your partner, standing above you with red cheeks, messy hair, and teary eyes.

“Oh, baby, I wasn’t gone for that long,” you whisper, brushing his tears away.

“You were gone for hours. I just wanted to sleep in with you.” Wednesday whispers back, cuddling into your hands as they cup his cheeks.

You’re overcome with guilt–you should’ve known better than to leave Wednesday when he was in a mood like this. He would never have done the same to you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Would it be ok if we cuddled now? And I swear we can sleep in tomorrow. No getting up or anything.”

“Ok,” he sniffles, and you guide him upstairs to do just that. The trip is slow, Wednesday grasping your hand or side-hugging you every so often. When you do make it into the bedroom, it’s a straight trip down onto the bed and under the covers before you’re once again wrapped in his embrace.

“Better?” You ask, snuggling into his warmth.

“Much,” he responds. He’s not lying–all day, it’s been a fight to stay awake and keep the tears at bay because of your absence. When you returned, it was like a breath of fresh air, and now that you’re in his arms, it’s only gotten better.

“I got you something from the stores today,” you murmur. His eyes flit open, heavily lidded from sleepiness.

“You didn’t need to.” Wednesday says. “Your presence is more than enough of a gift.”

You blush and cover his mouth with your hand. Right now is not the time to swoon.

“It’s an early birthday gift, and because I’m sorry I left you all day today.” He shakes his head as if in disagreement, that your absence didn't actually affect him that much. But you keep going.

“I saw a typewriter in that antique store on main street, and the woman said it was in almost-perfect condition. I had heard you complaining to your parents about the one we have in the study right now, so I figured, why not?” His eyes widen as you go on, and you worry you’ve done something wrong. But when he pulls your hand away and kisses you with a new fervor, you relax.

“Thank you, cara mia. Oh, I’ve needed a new one for months now.” Wednesday rotates between giving praise and kissing you all over, not stopping until you’re both laughing softly.

You notice his movements slowing as sleep tries to take over, so you decide to leave him with one last remark before you both fall asleep.

“I also may have visited that shop next to it, the one with those…designs…that you liked.” Designs, as in lingerie that looked as if it was made from mere scraps of fabric.

Wednesday’s eyes shoot wide open, sleep long forgotten.

[ecnmatic]

Part Two (2/2)