yourheartandmind

[yourheartandmind]

Know You Don't

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Knowing didn't always translate to understanding, and loving Wednesday meant learning that the hard way.

The reality of dating someone rarely goes exactly as expected. Sometimes, this is for the better. Sometimes, the love transforms into a waltz of teaching and learning; a journey beyond yearning and into accepting and understanding. Sadly, however, most of the time it's not.

When it came to loving Wednesday Addams, you knew from the start that loving her would be unlike anything else.

How could it be?

From the beginning, the girl had been reserved and unaffectionate, more likely to commit murders for you than hold you through spouts of tears. And though you had always known better than to expect anything more than that, it would still prove to be your greatest oversight.

Because knowing did not always mean understanding, and for all that you might have tried to ignore this fact, it was the inescapable difference that doomed your relationship. 

Watching the girl now, you held back your sigh of frustration as she rolled her eyes at you. The action made you bristle, and if it had been from anyone else, you might've snapped. Yet, because it was the girl you loved, you fought against the urge to let your irritation show.

Even as the lines around Wednesday's lips deepened, conveying her displeasure and etching it onto her face, you made every effort to remain composed. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice how her expression still bore traces of the stoic stare you had become accustomed to - once wonderfully intriguing. But now, those traces served only as a painful reminder of just how little Wednesday seemed to care, sometimes.

"I don't think I'm asking for too much," you pleaded, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation as you searched for any glimmer of understanding in her darkened eyes, "Just a little more affection, Wednesday, a small gesture here and there to let me know you're there for me when I need it." Your mind wandered to the countless sleepless nights, of the loneliness that always followed. It was during those times that Wednesday seemed to disappear, leaving you to confront your thoughts and solitude alone.

"In what ways, Y/N?" She pressed, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, as if erecting an imaginary wall between the two of you.

Not that it seemed to really matter either way. Even when she was physically present, like she was now, it still felt like Wednesday was a world away. Her physical proximity held no comfort. Her gaze had no empathy. It felt as if your struggles were inconsequential to her; as if you were inconsequential to her. 

“Affection?” There was the beginning of mockery in her voice, causing a pang of defensiveness to course through you, “As in physical gestures? You want me to embrace you?” Her words felt demeaning, as if your deepest desires were being reduced to childish wants. But just as likely was the possibility that it was simply your imagination playing a cruel trick on you. 

"Yes, physical gestures, Wednesday," you replied, your voice attempting to stay calm despite how you might have been feeling inside. 

It was as if your plea was falling on deaf ears, though, Wednesday's expression remaining unchanged - as if she couldn't even fathom what you were saying. You were just stopping short of practically begging the girl to show you love, yet the only emotion you found within her gaze was something akin to boredom. And when the raven hair girl finally spoke again, her words were measured and deliberate, only fueling your frustration further.

"I simply don't see the point in such trivial things," she replied, voice carrying a cold detachment, "Are my options for affection really limited only to meaningless, physical touch? Can I not express my love in any other way?"

Her words struck you uncomfortably, causing a knot of confusion to tighten in your chest. You had hoped for even a glimmer of understanding, any willingness to find common ground. Instead, Wednesday was challenging the very essence of your request, leaving you questioning your own needs and desire for affection.

"It's not about triviality or limitations!" You explained, a mix of frustration and yearning in your voice, "I know that you express your love in your own unique way, and I love that about you. But sometimes I just need tangible reassurance. Sometimes, I just need to know you're there when I get lost in my own doubts and worries."

But, in reality, the last sentence remained unspoken; the words that exposed your vulnerability lodged in your throat. Your hesitation was tangible as you found yourself unable to admit your need for reassurance any further, as if exposing your deepest desires would be an admission of weakness.

“I just…” You attempted again, but once more finding the right words escaping you. The unfinished sentence dangled in the silence, leaving the conversation unresolved.

Despite everything, you allowed yourself to silently hope that Wednesday would grasp the depth of the situation without your explicit pleas; that she would understand the importance small gestures of affection could have on the chains around your heart. But as the silence stretched on, it became clear that the unspoken plea would remain unheard; the usually acute and observant Wednesday somehow missing all the signs you were desperately trying to convey.

"You're not understanding," she exhaled, voice carrying a weariness that matched the heaviness you felt.

Suppressing the retort that it was her who failed to understand, you locked your jaw. The words teetered on the tip of your tongue, ready to be unleashed in a moment of frustration and pent-up energy. But as you looked into Wednesday's eyes, vacant and unbothered, you felt all the fight drain out of you. The startling realization of your situation suddenly dawned onto you.

"I'm sorry, you're right," you admitted, the words slipping out with a sigh, carrying with it resignation and the bitter taste of defeat. The apology was empty, devoid of genuine remorse. It was like nothing more than an obligatory olive branch in your attempt to reconcile.

Wednesday, however, nodded, as if your admission was something she had expected all along, accepting your apology with an air of anticipated detachment. A silent scoff almost escaped your lips in response, a bitter reaction to her lack of acknowledgment.

But eventually, resignation seeped into your bones, and acceptance settled heavily onto your shoulders, weighing you down with the realization that your battle for understanding had been a solitary one - waged against an opponent who hadn't recognized the fight in the first place.

Wednesday turned away without a second glance, effortlessly resuming her day as if nothing had transpired, rubbing salt into your wound as you were left to wallow in the futility of your efforts.

Perhaps this time, it was she who had missed all the signs you had desperately tried to convey, consumed by her own world. But, you couldn't help but feel like the eternal fool, allowing her to emerge victorious once again, surrendering your own world to be lost in hers.

---

Unofficial Previous Part: Imposition

[yourheartandmind]

Imposition

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, you questioned your relationship with Wednesday. Sometimes, it felt like she was the only one allowed to hurt.

At times, you found yourself questioning your relationship with Wednesday. On such days, you couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it at all.

The raven hair girl currently sat facing away, her back serving as the physical barrier between the two of you. She had been upset for quite some time, now; not a word of acknowledgment having been casted over to you for the better part of two hours.

A small part of you was tempted to break the silence, to reach out and ease the tension that seemed to have grown with each passing moment; the more stubborn part of you refused. And perhaps the proudest part of you, buried deep within all the affection and love you had for Wednesday, wonder if it was even your responsibility to do so.

Because sometimes, it felt like the only one who was allowed to hurt was Wednesday.

It had been sudden.

One second you were fine, the next you were suffocating. An invisible string wrapped itself around your chest, making it hard to breath as the air staled around you. The smog threatened your sanity, and your heart began to race.

It was happening again - the panic, the dread - creeping up on you, unwelcomed and unannounced. Your body tensed, muscle losing their strength as you felt the urge to curl into a ball. Things had been like this for you - ever since the Hyde attacked. Thoughts scatter like debris in your mind, leaving you disoriented and lost.

The pencil in your hand started shaking, your grip on it loosening with every scrap of breath you took, even as you fought for control of your actions. The words that you managed to write came out sloppy, an incomprehensible mess that even you could not make out.

Memories of what had happened the night the Hyde found you played through in your mind. How easily he had overtaken you. How bitter your blood had tasted when you thought you were done for. But what you remembered most clearly was the fear and hopelessness you had felt.

As as you struggled to compose yourself in the face of your own memories, frustration bubbled within and you didn't know if you'd rather laugh or cry at your own helplessness.

Through the haziness, you just barely registered the creak of your bedroom door opening before Wednesday entered your vision. There was concern on her face, an emotion so vividly different from the usual nothingness that she showed. In that fleeting moment of weakness, relief washed over you, chasing away the fog in your mind. You found yourself instinctively reaching for the girl, yearning for the comfort of her touch. But as your eyes locked with hers, you saw urgency mixed with her concern, and you froze. The realization that she, too, was currently going through something replaced your breath of relief with despair.

"There you are!" You heard her exclaim, though her tone was far from one of excitement. Instead, it dripped with frustration, as if you had already offended her with your absence. The way she spoke hit you like slap to the face, making you flinch in shock. Any hope of comfort that had momentarily arisen in your heart withered away in shame.

"My father," She was saying, her words blending together and feeling distant, "Somethings happened."

Even in your state, it was clear that she needed you. Gathering your strength, you willed your panic back, determined to conceal the turmoil until Wednesday left. The last thing you wanted was to add to her burden. Your trembling hands found refuge in your lap, hidden from her view, as if they were the physical manifestations of the mess you were within.

Not that Wednesday seemed noticed either way.

Oblivious to it all, she began speaking and her words pour forth, a torrential downpour to your already muddle mind. Each sentence crashed against your ears, reverberating like thunder through your skull. You tried to listen, to understand - straining to comprehend the urgency in her voice as you puzzled through the pieces of words that managed to break through to you.

Your silence, however, only seemed to only annoy her further, impatience etching itself onto Wednesday's face. And as the weight of her frustration collected into the air, you felt yourself begin to crumble under the pressure of her obvious disappointment. Her reaction proved the helplessness you had been feeling. Inwardly, you berated yourself for not having the strength to face your problems alone and failing to support her in that moment.

Wetting your lips, you attempted a response, only to find your voice stolen away by panic. The invisible string in your chest tightened, and your nails dug into your palms with a dull pain that would surely burn later.

Wednesday only continued, her words drowning out your thoughts and spiraling you deeper into your own abyss. The desperation to understand, to be useful to her, clung to you like a lifeline. Even as the task buried you deeper and deeper within your own mental grave, the words themselves slipping through your grasp.

The knowledge that your silence only increased Wednesday's irritation added another layer of suffocation. It felt as if the ground beneath you was suddenly crumbling along with you.

It was a pathetic sight, you were sure. Your normally sharp and capable mind now struggling, desperately clawing for any semblance of clarity and control. The way Wednesday seemed to glare at you only intensified those thoughts as the atmosphere hung with the unspoken words and expectations.

A small part of you wanted to yell, to tell her that you were trying your best, and that you needed her support, not her frustrations. But like everything else, it got lost in your thoughts.

Eventually, it seemed she gave up, fed up with your uselessness at last. Huffing out the room, she hadn't spared you another glance, only leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You gave in to the panic not long after, the sobs that followed swallowing the first and last of your voice.

When Wednesday had finally returned that night, she had ignored you. As if you were nothing to her. As if you were nothing.

Listening to the clicks of her angry typewriter, now, you bristled at the notion that it would be you who would be forced to apologize. Yet, you also knew that she would never be the one to do it.

Because when it came to Wednesday Addams, she was always right, and if you wanted her to stay, you had to be wrong.

---

[yourheartandmind]

Crossed Lines

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warning: Dark themes

Wednesday Addams has committed many unspeakable crimes. She's performed many unspeakable acts. Some, simply for the sake of doing so.

But, even she had a limit. A line she swore to never cross. A concrete boundary to what she was and wasn't willing to do.

Because for all her bravado and all her threats, Wednesday Addams refused to become a monster. To prove the people around her right. To give in to her family's darkness.

Call it stubbornness. Call it hopeless.

She knew she wasn't good by any definition - she would never be like Enid, could never be like her, not even close- but Wednesday always wanted to believe that she wasn't entirely bad either. That somewhere, hidden in the very depths of her being, she too had a soul worth saving. A soul capable of redemption.

Yet, as she took in your crumpled form on her bed, dark, crimson blood seeping through the layers of your tattered Evermore uniform - a color she had seen thousands of times before, but never seeming so nauseating as it did that moment - even she was surprised by the dark thoughts that crossed her mind.

The lines she was suddenly willing to cross.

You were mumbling something under your breath, a slur of pleads and cries that blended with dull ringing in Wednesday's ears.

The paleness of your skin was jarring. The lifelessness in your eyes haunting. And staining the sheets beneath you, caking the surface of everything you had touched, your blood was inescapable - the sheer amount of it painting the room.

Someone had touched you.

The thought lit something inside Wednesday.

Everything began overtaking her senses: the scent of sweat and rust from dried blood; the messy incoherent cries of pain that filled the room; the sight of you. Like that.

"Wednesday?"

Someone was calling out to her. They seemed close. Yet not quite there.

Someone had touched you.

"Wednesday?"

A second attempt to reach her was registered, now laced with a hint of concern.

The person seemed further now, though.

Someone had touched...you

Wednesday's mind began to swallow her, taking her to the darkest corners of her subconscious. To a place where all her inhibitions were washed away - stripped away - until all that was left was a desire to hurt.

Someone had touched you. Someone had hurt you.

"What happened?"

Her voice was cold. Distant. More than even she thought possible.

It didn't sound like her anymore.

The blur of a figure turned to her, Wednesday guessed that it was Enid, "Let's not doing anything careless now, okay?" They, Enid, whoever, tried to caution.

"What happened?"

The question wasn't going to be asked twice. And for their sake, Wednesday hoped Enid caught on to that.

"I-"

"Enid."

If bloodlust could be heard, not just seen, it would've been heard then - dripping with malice from every syllable of Wednesday's voice.

Enid looked over to her roommate, always having believed the Addams cruel but reasonable; now seeing, that any semblance of rationality had long disappeared.

She sighed and answered. Cautiously. Uneasily.

Wednesday left without so much as a thanks.

Watching the girl go, Enid felt her heart drop with fear. Not for herself, but rather the people who had hurt you.

///

Wednesday knew she had lost it - that what she was going to do was reckless and dangerous beyond belief.

Yet she couldn't find it in her to care.

Even as she stood over the faces of the men on the ground, bounded and tied expertly by her ropes, fear evident in their eyes. Even as they began to shake with tears and beg and plead her for their release, promising to not tell anyone. Even as she began to realized that there was no coming back from what she was about to do.

She had never wanted to become a monster like this.

But when people - the same hypocrites who've bullied and ostracized Evermore students as liars and killers - hurt the one she loved and got to walk back into their lives like nothing happened, Wednesday Addams no longer cared about her childish wants.

All she knew was was the anger and hurt she felt and the consuming need to make those responsible pay.

Afterall, someone had hurt you.

She'll make sure they hurt more.

And she'll be sure to enjoy every second of it, too.

[yourheartandmind]

Naps

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: The one where Wednesday tells you that you snored.

The soft, methodical clicks of a typewriter filled the room, a comfortable ambience greeting you as you awoke from your nap. Your girlfriend was in her usual spot at her desk, clicking away on her typewriter - no doubt lost in a world of her own, oblivious to your waking form.

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you rubbed your eyes from sleep, frowning as you realized you had fallen asleep midway through your homework assignment. Thing, who was for whatever reason now on the floor, seemed to have also fallen asleep around the same time as you, evidenced by the the pencil still held loosely in his grip. From the clock that sat on the far side of the room, and the giant pile of balled up manuscripts beside Wednesday, you figured that you must have been asleep for quite a while.

As if to confirm your suspicion, the consistent clicks of Wednesday's typewriter suddenly stop.

"Welcome back, I was wondering when you were going to wake."

Looking across the room to your girlfriend, you saw her previous form now turned around to look at you. Her gaze was as emotionless as always, but if you were squint ever so slightly and sprinkle a healthy dose of potential delusion too, you figured you could find a hint of worry behind her gaze too.

Sending her a sheepish grin, you ran your fingers absentmindedly across the marks left from your nap, "Yeah, sorry. I was completely knocked out."

Not missing a beat, the girl nodded in agreement, "I know. I heard you snoring."

Her words took a second to sink in. When it did, you felt every morsal of your being burn with sudden embarrassment.

"What?"

"Your snores were very hard to miss." She elaborate, misinterpeting your reaction.

Falling backwards into your bed, you let yourself sink in as far as you could, wondering if the mattress could just swallow you up and shield you away from facing this reality.

"Oh my god, why did you have to tell me that." You grumbled into your pillow, hoping the quilted fabric would somehow gift you the eternal bliss of an early death.

Displaying a surprising level awareness, Wednesday caught onto your embarrassment, "There's nothing wrong with snoring. In fact, when I was five, my uncle snored so loudly he-"

"Oh!" You groaned in exasperation. Having met the said uncle once before, you were not entirely pleased to have the comparison drawn.

"My father...?" Wednesday tried instead, hoping that this attempt would fare better.

"Ah!" You groaned even louder.

"Brother!" She provided again with new enthusiasm, sure she had gotten it right this time.

You just wished for the suffering to end.

Narrowing her eyes, Wednesday pondered in thought for a brief second, "Perhaps... I should drop the comparison in its entirety instead."

Lifting your arm up, you just gave her a solitude thumbs up.

Far from your sight Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, clicking a few more things onto her type writer.

Perhaps she'll keep the fact that you had been drooling too, to herself for now.