#addams family!reader
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terry-perry · 9 months ago
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Alastor (watching Y/N from afar): Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss!
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rivai-hana · 3 months ago
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Homicide 🤣
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except eren
This conversation is from the addms family 2
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nxtaliaistyping · 4 months ago
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Oh god, being a maid employed at the Addams family mansion.
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Authors note: I love posting the most shameless, self indulgent shit.
18+ smut, bisexual fem reader, threesomes, switch vibes all around
Going feral, you're a young woman who goes for the maid position, being part time means you can still study at college while earning some extra cash. The vibe of the family doesn't put you off, in fact it actually draws you in, which captures the attention of the lord and lady of the house.
Both of them are so in love, always having their hands on each-other as you're interviewed, as they explain to you how they aren't exactly a normal family. And both of them don't miss the way the other's eyes will trace to the image of your thighs peaking out from under your skirt.
After you leave, they can't help but fuck right there on the table, whispering promises to seduce you, to have you under them soon enough.
It starts with your uniform, which you suppose does fit with the old fashioned vibe of the family, however the traditional maid outfit is quite...short. So short in fact that when you bend over to dust, your panties nearly gave poor Uncle Fester a fright as he came in.
Sneaking glances at you as you clean, no matter what you do you have both Morticia and Gomez’s attention. Their eyes are trained on you as you clean their house and cook meals for their children.
“She’s so flawless, so sweet and innocent.”
“Oh Gomez, isn’t she just?”
You could cut the sexual tension with a knife whenever it was just you and them, usually they’d schedule you to be in whenever the rest of the family was out. And the whole time they’d take any excuse to be near you, to gently touch your arm while you speak, to brush your hair out of your eyes as they praise you for the good work you do, how happy they are to have such a devoted maid.
Any of you could crumble first (my money is on Gomez), but when that happens, there’s no stopping the couple from showing you all the earthly pleasures they can. And my god they're a kinky couple.
Their favorite thing to do is to have you in the middle of them both, greedy hands running over every inch of your skin. One of their hands always ends up between your thighs, circling your clit while your other partner's hand would be groping your tits, pinching at your sensitive nipples to make you cry out and whimper for them.
All the while they'll compliment you heavily, praising every inch of you.
"Such a good girl for us, and a gorgeous one too."
"oh tesoro, she's right. You're gorgeous, and all ours."
Or they'd take it in turns. One night, Gomez has you and his wife on your knees for him, kissing eachother over his cock before he fucks you both. Another night, Morticia has you both bound as she tortures you two so deliciously that by the end, you and Gomez are slurring your words. And one glorious night they hand the reigns completely to you, allowing you to be in control.
After a while, the three of you would settle into a routine. You'd come and clean and do their laundry, and in return they'd make you cum at least three times. Most likely they'll up your pay too, telling you how such a gorgeous hardworking girl shouldn't have to worry about finances.
Reaching up to grab something, only to feel Morticia's hands grope under your dress. Bending over slightly and feeling Gomez's bulge pressed firmly against your ass.
Just being their little pet, so eager to serve them in every way <3
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poisonlove · 1 year ago
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Proposal | w.a
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"Sorry, can you repeat that?" I ask incredulously to the brunette in front of me.
Wednesday rolls her eyes at my request and merely stares at me with her usual apathetic gaze. We were sort of friends... well, I'm not entirely sure, given that a couple of times she told me she could barely stand me and refrained from taking my life due to my bright and optimistic attitude. Nevertheless, I enjoyed spending time with her.
"You know I hate repeating things," she says, maintaining a neutral tone, "but... I asked if you can pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents," she repeats, batting her lashes. "So, I didn't mishear," I murmur under my breath, and the long-braided girl rolls her eyes at my comment.
Wednesday and I are completely different: she's black, I'm white; night and day; yin and yang. My reaction is entirely justified! How can two people so different be together? Despite these internal questions, a part of me has been waiting for this proposal for a long time. Even though the gothic girl wasn't programmed for relationships, my heart couldn't help but beat faster for her over time. Wednesday remains unsettling, and her tastes are truly unique, but despite everything, talking to her is pleasant, and I adore the way she treats me.
In the end, the little brat cares about me.
"So?" she asks impatiently, and I blink, diverting my attention from my thoughts. "Why? Why do you want to pretend in front of your parents?" I inquire with curiosity, and Wednesday crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me seriously.
Wednesday sighs, lowering her head towards the floor, averting her gaze from mine. "You know I hate the human race, right?" she rhetorically asks, and I nod, attentively watching the gothic girl. "I don't want my family to know that I still feel this hatred. I want them to believe that I have social interactions," she says, almost with shyness in her whisper. "And besides, they already know you," she adds absentmindedly.
Analyzing her words, I smile widely with mischief. "You want your parents to believe that you're like them... Do you care about their opinion!" I say with emotion, approaching Wednesday more. I wrap my arms around her waist, catching the brunette off guard, and hug her tightly against my chest. "Y/n," she warns, her voice lowering dangerously. Seeing that I don't let go of her, Wednesday sighs heavily before tentatively reciprocating the hug, making me triumphantly smile.
"See? You've taken steps forward! You can endure hugs," I say, smiling widely.
Wednesday loosens herself from my arms and sighs heavily. "I can tolerate touching you for a few minutes before my homicidal instinct acts on its own," she says absentmindedly, tightening her grip.
Okay, her arms were around my neck, and I wasn't exactly sure if Wednesday was being serious. I loosen my hold on her body and step back, observing her brown eyes completely unreadable. "Alright," I say smiling slightly and Wednesday lifts the corners of her lips simulating a smile.
"Perfect," she declares, immediately wiping the smile from her face. The gothic girl walks towards her desk and sits in front of her typewriter, leaving me stunned. "Is that all?" I ask incredulously and Wednesday turns her head towards me looking at me seriously. "Yes. Now go, I need to write. See you tomorrow morning at the entrance, don't be late," she says with a neutral tone returning to her writing.
The sound of her fingers pounding on the keyboard fills the room, and I'm left staring at Wednesday Addams. "Stop looking at me, it's irritating," she says, sighing loudly. "Go away," she repeats and I smile unconsciously at her words. In the particular language of the Addams, stop looking at me seems to translate to if you look at me, I get distracted and can't continue writing and i have to talk to you
Exiting Ophelia Hall, I run into Enid returning from her date. "Everything okay with Ajax?" I ask with curiosity and the blonde laughs happily, nodding.
"And you? Has Wednesday already grown tired of you?" she says smiling and I nod my head, my enthusiasm slipping away.
"You know she likes you... she's just slow in these things," Enid encourages me and I smile with sadness. "Yeah..." I say doubtfully and sigh loudly. "I'm going to my dorm, goodnight," I say to Enid, who looks at me with sadness before walking towards her room.
(...)
"Good morning," I say with enthusiasm as I see Wednesday Addams waiting for me at the entrance of Nevermore Academy. The gothic girl looks at me impatiently.
"You're late," Wednesday says, looking at me seriously, arms crossed. "Sorry... Yoko didn't wake me up," I justify, and the brunette shoots me a glare. I unconsciously smile, seeing the tension in Wednesday's shoulders, her coffee-colored eyes brimming with irritation. "The usual silly vampire," she mutters softly, and I glance at the brunette, suppressing a knowing smile at her jealous outburst.
"Y/n!" I turn towards the voice and see the mentioned girl running towards me, holding my hoodie. "Yoko," I smile at the vampire, immediately feeling a piercing gaze behind my back. "You forgot your hoodie; thanks for lending it to me," she says, smiling widely and revealing her fangs.
"Thanks," I take the hoodie, and with the corner of my eye, I see Wednesday continuing to stare at us with irritation.
I walk back towards Wednesday, and she scrutinizes me with her eyes, shining with jealousy. "Did you lend her your hoodie?" she unconsciously asks, and I nod without any issue. "Good," Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks out of the iron gate, leaving me stunned and standing alone.
Every time Wednesday saw me with Yoko, she became impatient and stared at us with irritation, unable to avoid feeling uncomfortable. I knew Wednesday's jealousy was entirely different from romance; the gothic girl had confessed that I'm her only friend, not counting Enid, and Wednesday doesn't like sharing her things.
"Hey!" I chase after Wednesday, and the girl continues to walk with her classic elegant yet serious pace. "Wait," I shout at the gothic girl, and she stops, sighing loudly. "Move," she says irritably, and I roll my eyes at her childish behavior.
The Addams family's car appears before our eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. "So, shall we go in?" Wednesday Addams says, opening the car door and inviting me to get inside the vintage car. Lurch watches us from the central mirror, and his eyes make me uneasy.
Wednesday's hand delicately takes mine, and my eyes shift downwards. My heart races against my chest. The gothic girl's skin is pale and cold to the touch, but it's a pleasant sensation. Wednesday holds my hand in a peculiar way, loosely against mine, with a stiff wrist, as if she doesn't know how to hold hands.
Lurch looks away from the mirror and starts the car. "What are you doing?" I whisper as soon as the partition rises between us, and Wednesday quickly lets go of my hand. "We need to start the plan; play along," she apologizes with an authoritative and cold tone, surprising me.
"Well..." I say hesitantly, looking out of the car window. The landscape outside is shrouded in an eerie atmosphere, with a dense, dark-leafed forest standing against a twilight sky. The air is thick with mystery, and the road winding through the forest seems to lead to unknown places.
The car stops, and I, with a puzzled look, glance around. "We've arrived," announces Wednesday, quickly getting out of the car, and I follow suit.
The Addams' house stands imposingly before us, a Gothic mansion wrapped in an aura of dark elegance. Sharp spires pierce the sky, while intertwined vines give it an even more sinister appearance. The windows are adorned with heavy curtains and stained glass that seems to hide dark secrets within.
A sense of unease envelops the surrounding atmosphere, but at the same time, there's something fascinating in the decadent majesty of the Addams' abode. With uncertain steps, I approach the main door, ready to immerse myself in the enigmatic world of this unique family.
Wednesday rings the doorbell.
The gothic girl firmly grabs my hand again. "Calm down and act like a real girlfriend, or I'll kill you," she whispers in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the imposing door of the Addams' house.
The tension in the air is palpable, and when the door opens slowly, Mr. Addams, a man of imposing figure and mysterious air, appears behind it. His mischievous smile widens upon seeing his daughter Wednesday hand in hand with me.
"Stormcloud!" Gomez opens his arms, expecting a hug from his daughter. However, Wednesday looks at him with confusion, remaining fixed in place, not responding to the expected embrace.
"Darling! Our terror is home!" Gomez Addams exclaims with a playful smile, revealing the family's peculiar sense of humor.
At that moment, the house door opens elegantly, revealing the dark and fascinating figure of Morticia Addams. Her presence is shrouded in an aura of mystery and grace, with her long black hair and the form-fitting dress that emphasizes her sinister elegance.
"Welcome, my treasures," Morticia murmurs, her calm and measured voice adding a touch of seduction to the atmosphere. Her gaze, penetrating and magnetic, traverses the foyer as she observes the two of us with interest. A smile spreads across her lips upon seeing our intertwined hands.
"Our little one brought home a guest," announces Mr. Addams, and Morticia smiles slightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, y/n," she says, addressing me with a slight bow.
I met the Addams family at Nevermore, and it was the first time I saw their house.
"The pleasure is mine," I say with a smile on my lips. A guttural sound echoes behind us, and when I turn, I see Lurch walking strangely towards us, holding my hoodie.
Without saying anything, Wednesday takes the hoodie and wraps it around her waist. "Don't say anything," she whispers, tightening her grip on my hand, and I nervously smile. Lurch takes off his hat and mutters something incomprehensible before entering the house. "Thanks," I say, smiling widely and leaning towards Wednesday.
I had to play the role of a girlfriend, right? So, I had to thank her appropriately. I unconsciously smile as my lips touch her pale cheek. Sensing a strange movement near her, Wednesday turns towards me, looking at me seriously. Instead of a simple thank-you, my lips collide abruptly with hers. I immediately sigh at the contact with her soft lips.
Wednesday stiffens at the touch but shows no sign of rejection. The gothic girl extends her hand, intertwining her fingers around my neck, pulling me closer, our lips firmly attached.
I break the kiss and look at the family with embarrassment, Gomez smiling widely. My heart was pounding wildly, and shivers ran down my body, the ghost of the kiss still present on my lips. The kiss was fantastic, I must admit, and her lips were delightfully cold and plump, exactly as I had imagined them in my dreams.
Wednesday clenches her jaw and breaks the contact between our hands, entering the house. I was about to follow her when a hand gently grabs my arm. Mr. Addams looked at me, smiling but with a strange glint in his eyes. "You know how our family is, right?" he asks in a low voice. "Yes..." I say hesitantly, feeling a strange anxiety creeping in.
"If you dare to harm our little one, I swear I'll cut you into such small pieces that it will be impossible to find you," he threatens menacingly.
I nervously swallow saliva.
"Darling, don't scare our guest," Morticia intervenes with a small smile on her lips. "But the threat is real," she says before turning and walking towards the staircase, her husband following her with admiration.
"Well, I'm screwed," I say nervously, my eyes looking around with confusion, not exactly sure where the heck I should go.
Wednesday's Room
My eyes curiously scanned Wednesday's room: black curtains, a small guillotine, scattered weapons, and a canopy bed. I had the pleasure of meeting her little brother, Pugsley. The Addams boy had embraced Wednesday, begging her to play with him—games like burying him alive, shooting him with a crossbow, or tying him up somewhere.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, a strange silence enveloping us.
"Do you want to talk about the kiss?" I asked timidly, and Wednesday's shoulders tensed as she sat on the canopy bed. Her eyes looked at me with confusion, and with a slight nod of her head, she gestured for me to sit beside her.
I walked over with embarrassment and sat beside her.
"It was an accident," I confessed, feeling fear gradually grow in my body. Wednesday raised her head and looked at me attentively, her cold fingers touching mine.
"Okay," she said simply, her eyes looking at me in a strange way. "But we absolutely have to do it again, now," she said quickly, her eyes watching me closely. "I need to understand something," she added later, her eyes truly expressing curiosity.
I blinked in surprise and leaned towards her, shivering with excitement. Wednesday looked at me attentively and raised her chin, seeing how I was getting dangerously close to her face. I closed my eyes and bridged the gap between our lips, smiling at the moment of the long-awaited kiss. Wednesday melted at the contact and leaned further, her hands gripping my shirt with the urgency to eliminate every inch of distance between our lips. Wednesday sighed against my lips and tilted her head. With my tongue, I tapped her lower lip, shivering with pleasure as I felt the goth opening her mouth, letting me in.
Wednesday's hands tightened on my shirt, and then she pushed me away from her. I blinked incredulously, my eyes seeing her lips swollen from the kiss.
"What did you do to me? I like it," she said with confusion, pure panic in her eyes. "Nothing... maybe... you like me?" I asked rhetorically, and Wednesday turned her head abruptly in my direction.
"I don't feel anything beyond horror, disgust, and annoyance," she apologized, her tone completely irritated and cold. "I don't know, Wed..." I said tiredly as I looked at the goth. "I feel like insects are crawling on my stomach," she added, and I sighed at her words.
I quickly took her chin and kissed her abruptly, Wednesday sighing at the contact. "Do you like it when I kiss you?" I asked with curiosity, my heart beating recklessly. "Yes..." she affirmed coldly.
Wednesday leaned in, and our lips joined again. "And I want to do it again, your lips are delicious... and I want more," she confessed calmly, my cheeks blushing at her words.
"Do you like being with me? Does it bother you if I'm around you?" I asked with curiosity.
"Sometimes," she murmured weakly, her eyes looking at mine with concern.
"If I touch you..." I started, my hand resting on her arm, her muscles tensing at the contact. My fingers slid down her forearm, and Wednesday gradually relaxed, sighing as my fingers intertwined with hers.
"Does it bother you?" I concluded, and Wednesday shook her head.
"Do you like contact in general? Like, if Enid hugs you?" Wednesday raised an eyebrow with confusion and shivered at the thought, her lips curling in disgust.
"No," she confessed and tightened her grip on my hand.
"If I hug Yoko... does it bother you?" I asked, my eyes looking at the goth hopefully.
Wednesday Addams looked at me irritably and nodded.
"So, you're jealous," I said, smiling widely, and Wednesday looked at me with confusion.
"No, jealousy is for relationships," she confessed, and I sighed with frustration.
"All right... I've done the analysis... if you don't want to accept it, it's your problem," I got up from the mattress and walked towards the entrance of her room.
"Y/n," I turned at the sound of her monotonous voice and looked at her expectantly. "Can we keep kissing?" she asked innocently, her eyes looking at me with curiosity. A part of me wanted to refuse because I knew it would be my downfall, and I would suffer a lot, but my heart ardently desired contact with the goth.
"Okay," I said, smiling bitterly, and Wednesday nodded satisfactorily. "Can we do it... slowly? It's hard to assimilate," she continued, and I looked at her with surprise and confusion. "Slowly? Does that mean..." I started incredulously, a smile plastered on my lips.
"I want to discover my feelings with you," she confessed, and her eyes sparkled in a strange way, a dark desire mixing with her brown irises. "You're mine," she concluded, and my heart skipped a beat.
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icedheartss · 6 months ago
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I think I have a type . . .
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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 10 months ago
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Hi love can you please write a male Wednesday whos obsessive and like his father towards reader
Not far from the tree
Pairing: Male Wednesday addams x reader.
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Wednesday Addams, son of Gomez and Morticia Addams. A man who only felt joy if he ever had such emotion when he tortured the unfortunate souls he deemed worthy and who despised love, had fallen. You weren't Addams material, he observed, his empty, soulless eyes bored into you as you talked to your friends.
He didn't like them, he liked them dead for talking to his love. Elegant and graceful like normal, Wednesday walked up to you, the previous conversation was immediately stopped as your friends noticed him, his mere presence commanding silence. "My love. " he greeted plainly and grabbed your hand, his eyes boring into the leader of your friend group, almost daring them to speak up "I will be taking her. I hope you don't mind." Wednesday didn't give them time to reply as he stalked away, in dragging with you.
"Have I told you that I hate your friends?" He asked, his fingers tapping away on his old typewriter. "Plenty," you giggled, watching him affectionately from his bed. Wednesday was facing away from you, but you could see a hint of pink in his normally deadly pale cheeks. A comfortable silence settled between you two.
Wednesday despised the feeling of excitement or any other strong emotion, but seeing you so enthusiastic about the upcoming prom and all the fun things you could do together, he couldn't help but feel a tiny smile form on his lips. It made him almost happy to see you happy.
For you, Wednesday would do anything, even dressing up In a suit and tie that matched the color of your outfit, for your happiness Wednesday would do anything. He'd walk through hell, purgatory, and heaven just to see a smile on his Mi alma lips.
The plastic cup creaks under Wednesday's grip as he watches you dance with the leader of your little buddies, it was honestly pathetic that your friend called that dancing. Taking one last sip of the bland fruit punch, Wednesday sat his drink on the table and walked to you.
"May I cut in?" he asked, his coal-black eyes piercing into your friend's soul. "Uh, yeah, sure," they replied nervously before quickly making their way off the dance floor.
"You didn't have to scare them, you know," you giggled as you placed your hand on his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his.
"How can I not?" he hummed, twirling you in a spin before dipping you.
"You're mine."
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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months ago
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wensday x reader where she is mean to everyone and only has a soft spot for reader and is so sweet and kind to them
Wednesday nuzzles Y/N, hugging them from behind…
Y/N: whipped
Wednesday: no darling that’s you
Click! Enid takes a photo of the two of them…
Wednesday: burn that photo or I burn you
Enid: I can’t save it for your future kids?
Wednesday: hmm…I’ll allow it
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hadesrise · 9 months ago
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can’t help falling in love.
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summary ➳ no matter what tragedy strikes, you and jason can’t help falling in love with each other. based on “can’t help falling in love” by elvis presley.
pairings ➳ jason peter todd x addams!male reader
warnings ➳ fluff, angst, very suggestive in the beginning, foul language, death and resurrection, mentions of violence, brainwash, hurt/comfort, destined soulmates, possessiveness if you squint, blood
author’s note ➳ okay, i take back what i said. i probably won’t stop writing addams!reader anytime soon. by the way, i don’t have specific jason in mind so any universe can be imagined for all my jason fics.
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Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love with you
The chilly air makes goosebumps appear on Jason’s skin as he hugs himself to shield away from the cold. Dark shine of the moon bringing peace to the silence completely surrounding him, Jason admires the statues littered across the graveyard behind Addams manor in honor of your fallen ancestors. Despite darkness lurking behind every shadow and spirits wandering around tirelessly, this place held utter peace and comfort, warming Jason’s heart by embracing it tightly in their arms.
Each ancestors had extraordinary headstone that fits them best with their statue standing tall and proud, it truly shows how Addams honor their family members the right way. None of their headstones were simple or boring, each having unique traits that Jason was certain they used to have when they were alive. Each Addams have unique traits that differed from one another, but all of them are undeniably extraordinary. They aren’t like any other, much like how his lover’s not like any other.
Jason feels a coat being wrapped around him before two arms sneaks around his waist, shoulder weighing slightly from where you rest your chin on it. He fights back a smile.
“You could’ve called for me, mon chéri. My siblings wouldn’t have minded one less duelling partner.” You softly say, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.
Jason instinctually leans back, snuggling to your neck. “Yeah, but you should spend more time with ‘em. Always with me, they’re gonna start thinking you’re forgetting your own siblings.”
“I assure you, they would not.” You start slowly swaying your bodies together to a non-existent music as Jason follows through with you. “They’re going to start thinking you’re forgetting them. Wednesday and Pugsley prefer you more than me, sweetheart, especially Wednesday.”
“Oh, really?” Jason smirks.
“Yes, really.” You nod with a sigh, though he could tell you weren’t annoyed at all. “She pushed me down the stairs last night after we’ve gotten back from our date.”
Jason throws his head back with a laugh, “Sorry babe. She might or might not have invited me to throw an axe at Pugsley and I turned it down.”
“No wonder she was beyond annoyed with me,” Amusement fills your tone as the corner of your lips twitch up to form a subtle smile. Jason looks at you over his shoulder and you immediately lean in for a lingering kiss, butterflies erupting in his stomach as his heart skip a beat. You then kiss his cheek and forehead before resting your chin back on his shoulder with eyes closed.
Jason sighs in content, admiring your captivating features that somehow reminds him of death. but your presence weren’t as cold as death, it’s warm and engulfing despite your touch rivaling that coldness of an ice. He leans closer for a moment, only to lift your arms that were around him so he could face you while still being embraced by you, burying his face on the crook of your neck.
“I really love you.” He sighs, arms secure around your back.
“I would do everything for you,” Your reply was instant, resting your head against his. He felt your arms squeeze him as if to emphasize, and he chuckled.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” The silly question slips from his lips, half-joking and half-serious, pulling his head back to look into your nearly lifeless eyes. He’s reminded of how it’s only alive because of him.
Your eyebrows raised slightly in mere question and amusement, but you take his hand and press a tender kiss on his palm.
“I adore you in every universe. I love you just as much as Icarus has loved the sun — even more than he’s loved the sun. I would shatter the ground and raise hell just to find you wherever you go. I would paint the sky with shooting stars to fulfill your wish. I would tear the world apart and watch the universe collapse if you are ever taken from me, for a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving. I would worship every ground you stand and walk on to an extent which I wish not to touch the ground you haven’t touched yet, for it hasn’t been blessed with your divine greatness. I would offer you my eyes if your vision fails, my voice if yours can no longer function, my heart if yours cease to beat, my hands if you can no longer hold the world in yours, my legs if yours fail to take you to places you’ve dreamed of. Only death shall keep me away from you, and even so, it would merely be enough to prevent me from either clawing the dirt apart and rising alive to hold you in my arms, or dragging you down with me to rest for all eternity together.”
By the end of your speech, Jason was already crying ocean of tears as his eyes twinkles in overwhelming happiness, extremely touched.
Both of you always make long and romantic declaration of your love for each other in most random times, and while his speech makes you smile from ear to ear and giddy like a high schooler, yours often never failed to reduce him into nothing but a sobbing and crying mess. He hates it, but could never bring himself to hate you for making him cry.
You smile gently at him and press very soft kisses on both of his eyelids before continuing, “Therefore, the answer is yes, my love. I would still love you if you were a worm.”
Jason chokes out a chuckle, sniffing. “Fuck you for always catching me off guard and making me cry.”
Your hands cup his red face as you coo, “Do not be ashamed for shedding your tears, Jason. Quite frankly, I find them very captivating.”
“Yeah?” He smirked. “You like seeing me cry?”
“Ah, yes...” A flirtatious smirk appears on your lips, one arm pulling him close and the other hand sneaking up to gently clasp your fingers around his throat. “Indeed, I do. Especially in bed.”
Jason resists his urge to moan when you squeezed slightly, tilting his head back a little to give you more access. “Why in bed when you can make me cry right here and now?” He whispered, rather lusciously as you stare into his lustful eyes.
You lick your lips before smashing your lips on his hungrily and Jason quickly reciprocates, no longer feeling the chilliness of the graveyard air.
Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you?
Jason loves you more than words can express. He loves you oh so dearly that he would turn back to the God that his heart stopped believing after he came back to life just so he could recite prayers for an eternity with you. Jason never thought it was possible to love someone so much so that he’d be willing to both give up everything for you and give you everything you want.
But sometimes, love makes him afraid.
Afraid of losing you. Afraid of seeing you hurt. Afraid of knowing anyone and anything can take you away any moment. He hadn’t thought about what you feel everytime you see him injured, but when you walked into the living room all bloody, bruised and slashed, his heart stopped and the mug he was holding just slipped from his hand to shatter on the floor.
You laid down on the large expensive sofa with a slight wince as Jason ran off to find some medical kits available in the Addams manor, being helped by Thing to locate its whereabout, before running back in with the necessities. He almost got a heart attack when he saw you had your eyes closed, seemingly not breathing, looking paler than usual. Dropping the medical kits on the carpeted floor below the sofa, he quickly checks on your pulse and sighs in relief when he feels it, just then remembering that an Addams is very unlikely to show any physical signs of breathing unless letting out a sigh.
You open your eyes and admire his face twisted in worry and fear, moving up a hand to pat his head twice. “It’s not necessary to be overly concerned, my dear. Nothing to fear of, these are mere injuries that can easily be treated.” You wave it off with the same hand, somehow very calm and nonchalant despite how intense your injuries looked.
Sadness now replacing the look on his face, Jason wordlessly shakes his head and begins to treat the bruises and cuts on your face with careful and soothing hands. You stop him gently to remove your vigilante suit before letting him continue, comforting silence filling the almost grim atmosphere. Jason doesn’t realize you’re watching every bit of his expression, seeing the way his perfect eyebrows furrow and his lips frown slightly every time he moves from one injury to another. It feels like the injury’s getting worse the more he moved to the next, and it made his heart heavy.
Your gaze softens, knowing he was having second thoughts about speaking the things that bothered him.
It seems Jason has quickly gathered the strength to speak because before you can throw encouraging words, his quiet voice interrupts the comfortable silence. “I know you’re not afraid of dying or anything with your culture and all, but it makes me worry a lot.” You nod to let him know you’re listening. “I sound like a real hypocrite ‘cause I go out on mission then come back here like a fucking zombie more than I want to admit, so I don’t have the right to say anything like this, but you almost gave me a heart attack.”
The corner of your mouth twitched, silently encouraging him to speak his thoughts more as he cleans your wounds. You don’t miss the way Jason’s hand trembled.
“You’re not...” He trailed off, hesitant to continue as he bit his lip as if to contemplate whether or not to say it out loud. He followed through it, anyway. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” Jason tries, looking up and meeting your eyes. His emerald irises were wavering in worry and hint of fear.
Your hand gently caress his face, Jason leaning on it immediately. “As I’ve said before, mon amour... Death is merely enough to prevent me from crawling back to you.” Ignoring your freshly bandaged wounds, you pulled Jason on your lap and tugged at the back of his neck to kiss his lips passionately and comfortingly. “Leaving you only means leaving my heart and soul behind, darling. We wouldn’t want me to feel incomplete, would we?”
Jason sighs in content against your lips, before carefully shifting on the big sofa so he could squish beside you and pull you to his chest, initiatively big-spooning you.
“ ‘m just really scared to lose you,” He whispered, burying his face on your hair and hugging you close, but not tight enough to hurt. It’s not like you’re capable of feeling pain, but you appreciated his kindness nonetheless.
You press a tender kiss on his chest, looking up at him and frowning softly. “I sincerely apologize for frightening you, my love. I’ll make an oath to be careful next time.”
Jason nods, basking in your warmth, your scent, your presence.
Gods, he loves you too much to let you go. He could never, would never. You belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and even death has no right to take that away. You were his, and only his — in life and death.
You feel Jason’s arms tighten around you, and resisted the smile spreading across your face. Death can never intimidate you as your culture revolves around it, but the thought of losing Jason was always triggering for you. It made you dive into insanity and quickly get rid of the problem at hand, as if you’ll suffocate if you’re not quick enough to eliminate the threat. Handling Joker physically, handling Bruce mentally, handling those irrelevant crime lords who nearly hurt Red Hood off the streets violently, all things of sort.
Fall down with me further, mon chéri.
Your mind shall be filled with me and only me, even if it’s utter fear of losing me.
A dreamy look flashed across your eyes before disappearing fast, burying your face in his chest and embracing him tighter. If you’re both too afraid for the other to die and lose them, then maybe dying together would not sound so bad at all.
You had read once on a book that falling in love is a curse, for you’ll drown in it before you even realize and fail to resurface once you fall too deep, unable to ever get out again.
However, if that is the case, you disagreed. Because it was never a curse, it’s only ever been a blessing.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
“Where the fuck is he!?” Jason yelled in rage, red clouding his vision as he threw the mug on a wall. Panic, anger, and worry filled his chest that made his frustration grow even more.
Bruce sighed, worry also plastering his face as he attempted to grasp your location with the computer. “He’s only been gone for an hour, Jason. Be patient.”
“Anything can fucking happen in an hour!” He growled back, glaring harshly before the worry and panic began to overthrow his anger, one hand slipping through his hair and tugging at it. “I— fuck, what am I gonna do? I shouldn’t have let him go alone, I should’ve went with him—”
Dick quickly approached his little brother when his breathing started to grow uneven. “Jay, hey... Breathe, calm yourself first. He’s going to be okay, he’s an untouchable badass.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Jason shakes his head, rubbing his face. “I wouldn’t know what to do without him— I can’t live without him, Dicky. I can’t.” His voice broke as he trembled, silence filling the air with everyone frowning in sadness and worry.
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Jason felt his heart thumping loudly against his chest when he saw you fighting enemies with only sustaining little injuries, relief flooding throughout his body. It’s like the world brightened up again, ironically.
You made eye contact in the middle of the fight, smirking at him. “Can’t get rid of me easily, love.”
A light-hearted chuckle erupts from Jason as he joins you along with the Batfam in fighting the League of Assassins, you and Jason moving in sync as if dancing through the violence. Both of you moved swiftly together, fitting each other perfectly like the pieces of puzzle, using each other occassionally as a leverage against them.
“This is like dancing in our graveyard,” Jason grinned under his Red Hood helmet, adrenaline rushing in his veins.
“Indeed, it does feel like it.” You responded with subtle enthusiasm, only noticeable by your lover. He laughs at your answer, enjoying the moment even when it was violent.
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
He doesn’t know why he got distracted. He doesn’t know why he didn’t pay attention more to his surroundings. But before Jason knew it, Raj’s Al Ghul’s sword was nearly piercing into him.
Until your firm and cold hand pushed him away, everything feeling like a slow motion in Jason’s eyes as the sword pierced into your chest and through your back, directly striking the heart. Jason’s eyes widened, anguished call of your name slipping from his lips. Blood dripping from your mouth, you tightly held onto the sword before driving one of your sais on Raj’s Al Ghul’s throat, where a vital point is.
The League of Assassins member fell on the ground first, clutching his throat and choking on his own blood.
Amusement flickers in your eyes, even at the graveness of the situation. You looked back at Jason and smiled, grabbing the sword’s handle and pulling it off your chest despite Batman’s loud protests. Loud metallic clank echoes within the warehouse as you dropped the sword on the concrete, stepping forward once towards your lover, but your legs giving away made you almost tumble down.
Jason immediately catches you in his arms and lays you on his lap, tears stinging his eyes as his breath quickens, removing his helmet to throw it beside him. Heartbeat rapid and restless, heart dropped to his stomach, nausea forming in the pit of his stomach due to the sight of blood flowing outwards to your vigilante suit from the hole on your chest. He could feel a panic attack nearing, but couldn’t be bothered to care when the blood kept pouring out even when he applied pressure.
“No— no, no, no, no.” He chokes up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, trembling hands continuously putting pressure on your chest. “Stay with me, please. Stay with me. I can’t—” He sobbed. “I can’t lose you.”
Your breathing was shallow yet no fear plastered your face. There’s your usual calmness, the nonchalance that Bruce used to be so unsettled when he first met you, your almost dead eyes still sparkling in love and adoration for Jason. You don’t seem to care about your injury nor the outstretched arms of the Grim Reaper.
Your bloodied lips stretches to form a weak smile, captivated by Jason’s beauty under the moonlight. “You’re still magnificent, mon cherí… A sight to behold… under the moonlight…”
“Baby, now’s not the time.” Jason whined pathetically, tears flowing endlessly from his eyes. Dread, fear, devastation settling in his chest. “Please, baby. Please. I don’t know— fuck, I can’t live without you.” He cried, uncaring that you two were surrounded by his family. “I don’t… I can’t, baby. I— I can’t lose you, please.”
Adrenaline rushing through your veins and motivated by your sheer love for him, you reached up to wipe his tears and grab his other hand to intertwine it with yours. Jason’s heart drops further down the abyss when you then used it to pull out his dagger — the one you gifted him — out of his holster. “You would not lose me, by other’s hands, my sweetheart… I made an oath, to only offer you my life and soul, with no one else to have the privilege of ending me.”
“No— please, baby, no.” Jason weakly shakes his head, sobbing.
You gripped his hand that held the dagger. “You ought to, cherí… It is an honour for me to die by your hands. Please, allow me… to love you, one last time.”
Jason whimpered your name, crying heavily as he leans down to rest his head on yours. You were so cruel, wanting to die by his hands, wanting him to live forever with his hands stained in your blood— but Jason knew that’s how extent your love was for him. He could never deny you, not when it was your greatest wish.
Croaks and sobs escaping him, Jason finally drives the dagger through your chest, right where the sword pierced you. It is only then you slumped against him, hands slowly dropping to your sides with mouth slightly turned up in a smile of peace and satisfaction.
The greatest proof that you love him. Carving yourself deep into his heart, so he could never be alone even when you’re physically gone.
Jason wailed in anguish and sorrow, hugging your now lifeless body close as he brokenly recites the speech you gave him in the graveyard.
You hurt him badly, loved him too cruelly, but it was still better than losing you forever. He would’ve driven the dagger into his own beating heart if only you allowed him.
For I can’t help falling in love with you
Jason lost the brightness he had in him. Emerald eyes lifeless that seemed as if you took his soul with him, still functioning yet lacking in human emotions as if he was a robotic being.
Sometimes, he breaks so suddenly.
Utters your name like a curse, sobbing and weeping in his room, scar so deep in his heart he scratches at his chest in attempt to get it out to stop the ache. His emotions were too unstable that left him unqualified to continue the vigilantism, which he agreed emotionlessly when pointed out by Bruce.
Sometimes, he’s shattered too much and far too gone in grief that he sleeps on your grave. Covers himself in blanket and nuzzles on your headstone, as if it would give him the warmth you always radiated despite being as cold as death. He could only sleep that way; the sleeping pills don’t help, but being close to your body does.
He holds his dagger close to him all the time. Stained in your dried blood that he never got the nerve to wash off, afraid that his mind would someday choose to forget your existence to block out the trauma.
He wears everything you used to wear. Uses your weapons, things, accessories. His favourite is your sunglasses. Having your possessions close always made him feel like you were embracing him.
No one ever attempted to get them away from him in fear of shattering his soul furthermore. His entire being seemingly dependent on everything that reminded of you, they didn’t want to trigger something inside of him any more than the scar in his heart did.
“Love truly is the greatest twisted curse in the world, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia mutters in sorrow as she looks out the window of the Addams’ manor, watching Jason curl up against your headstone with tears silently streaming down his face.
Bruce looks down in dejection, nodding his head.
His boy was beyond repair, and no one could do anything about it because you were gone.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Jason’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Emotions swirled within his chest; anger, disgust, sadness, grief, disbelief, and joy battling one another that overwhelmed him all at once. His family stood with him in front of the monitor, their expressions just as horrified as him, the familiar situation causing dread to settle on the pit of Bruce’s stomach.
The monitor showed you, alive and well with the exception of your eyes seeming more dead and lifeless than before. Everything was the same from your emotionless face to your vigilante suit that you died in, but Jason could see right through you. This wasn’t you. This you wasn’t his.
Not when you were standing in the same room as the Joker who you’d immediately kill if you were put together.
Jason was even more certain you weren’t his when he sees you up close, your personality different from that sophisticated, nonchalant yet wonderful one you had before. You’re just… blank. A dead person living without humanity and following orders. You don’t follow orders, you hated being controlled.
The familiarity makes his chest clench and hurt. He’s been through this exact thing, he never thought you would experience it too.
“I don’t want to fight you, baby.” Jason whispered, voice cracking. His helmet hiding the heartbroken look on his face that you were standing in front of him with your sais pointed dangerously in his direction.
You scowled. He’s somehow familiar, your chest erupting in unknown emotions that Talia never taught you about. The urge to hold him close was tugging at the strings of your heart, but you stay glued to your spot. “I do not know you, fool.” You emotionlessly remark.
Hurt flashed across his face. There’s nothing he wanted more than to be held by you and hold you close, but how could he when you don’t recognise him? Did they brainwash you? Your memories lack, but they could come back, right?
“Red Hood,” Batman warningly calls his name when you lowered your stance.
Jason still didn’t pull out his guns.
“Baby, it’s me.” He whispered weakly. “Please, you said you’ll hold me again. You’ll crawl out of dirt to hold me or pull me under with you, remember?” Jason tried again, tears shimmering his eyes. His throat burned.
Your eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. You feel like you’ve told him that, but couldn’t remember. Something was banging on your head from the depths of your mind that made it throb. Gripping your sais, you desperately ignored the pain to focus on your task.
“Ignore it,” Talia’s voice entered your ears. “Kill him.”
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
“Fuck!” Jason yelps when you managed to slash him on his leg, dodging your next attack quickly. “Wait— please, listen to me!”
“Red Hood, watch out!” Red Robin shouts just as Jason narrowly avoids your sai flying towards his head.
He couldn’t find any other way to get you to listen. The way you attempted to tune him out makes him believe you were feeling something, but there’s nothing he could do when you keep coming at his throat. Desperation runs through his veins, heart still bleeding out for you even as you try to kill him. The coldness in your eyes was foreign that carved another scar in his heart, but he can’t hate you no matter what.
Jason’s heart jackhammered against his ribcage when you finally caught him by the throat and slammed him harshly on the floor, your murderous look that he always loved plastered over your face. He stops struggling after realising he could never hurt you again, and slowly hovers his hand over your wrist. Your grip on his throat was tight, but Jason couldn’t be bothered to panic.
He finally had you again at last. Why should he panic when the source of his life was so near to him?
“Have you gotten exhausted of fighting back?” You calmly tilted your head, curiosity in your eyes. Jason doesn’t miss the split seconds of conflicted look.
“I can’t,” He replies quietly. “I love you, baby. Never stopped.” His other hand raised to remove his helmet, ignoring Bruce’s protest, and your grip on his throat faltered as soon as you make eye contact with the emerald eyes that you adore too much.
“I don’t want to fight you, (Y/n). So kill me,” Jason mumbled with a soft voice. “Allow me to love you one last time and stab my heart with your sai. For a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving.” He recited your own quote back to you with a tearful smile.
Closing his eyes, peace overtakes Jason for the first time in a long while since losing you as he waits for the abrupt pain of being pierced through the heart. However, all that came was softness attaching itself to his lips.
Take my hand
Take my whole life, too
Jason snaps his eyes wide open in shock at your lips pressing against his, the death grip on his throat loosening just to hover affectionately over it. His body naturally reacts, moving on its own to reciprocate your kiss and relish in it, arms flying up to wrap around your neck.
You pulled away when he yearns for oxygen, a sob nearly escaping him again when he sees the love and warmth in your eyes. You smile gently at him, brightness returning to your previously dead eyes. “I’m deeply sorry, my love. I’m back.”
Jason tearfully chuckled and crushed you in a hug, heart rapidly beating against his chest. Relief wasn’t enough of a word to describe the happiness he felt. The feeling of being embraced tightly by you causing tears to stream down his face for the nth time, his longing and yearning finally being fulfilled. He missed this, he missed you, he missed his only home.
For I can’t help falling in love with you
Neither you nor Jason had left the bedroom since returning, having locked yourselves up in his room that you shared to obtain privacy for yourselves. None of the Waynes were bothered too much as they understood how much Jason yearned for your presence, the only comfort he’s ever had in his life.
Jason’s been holding onto you for dear life with the fear of you vanishing out of nowhere, his face buried on the crook of your neck and hand resting on your chest directly above your heart to feel it beating through his palm. Your arms securely wrapped around him in reassurance makes him feel more safe and at peace than he ever did. He pulls away slightly to look up, seeing you already staring at him with fondness and comfort.
“Don’t leave me again, please.” He croaks like a lost child, voice cracking.
You kissed his forehead. “I’d return to you in a heartbeat, my Jason.”
Jason stares into your gentle eyes, snuggling closer to you and intwining his legs with yours to feel every part of you. “Can’t live without you, baby.” He whispered.
You smiled. Perhaps, it was time to tell him.
Even death can’t severe the emotional bond and love you have for each other, which leaves one option; together. Falling out of love was never in either of your vocabulary, anyway.
For I can’t help falling in love with you
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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deadlynavigation · 10 months ago
Text
Pretty & Pink
Warnings: swearing
Author’s Note: request from @cecebabs !! school has been kicking my ass lately so just bear with me yall 🥲
Navigation
**gif is not meant to be a representation of what reader looks like**
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Opposites attract—or at least, that’s what they said. Wednesday had never put any stock into the saying until he met you.
You were a bright little thing, full of happiness and hope and all the other disgusting emotions. But Wednesday endured, because at the end of the day, you held his heart in your manicured hand.
Every once in a while, though, he’ll question what he’s doing. Like tonight, for instance. It had been a long day. The errands that had been piling up over the week were finally accomplished a few hours ago, and it was exhausting. So exhausting that all he wanted to do was collapse in the nearest bed, no matter the owner or location. And since you didn’t want your partner to end up in some alleyway mattress, you dragged him over to your apartment, where he was currently camped out on your bed.
“You doing okay in there, sweetie?” You call to him from your bathroom, hands dripping with water as you rinse your cleanser off.
“Yes, my love. Are you done yet?” Wednesday calls back. He knows his question is in vain, though. Your skincare routine is a long ordeal, and you’ve only just started.
He hears your soft laughter float through the air. “I’ll be right out.” You respond, picking up a serum.
Wednesday decides he can’t wait, heading into the bathroom and settling behind where you stand. You greet him with a smile, picking up the next step of your routine to show to him.
“It’s a new moisturizer I got today,” You explain. “It’s supposed to be good for dry skin, and with all the nasty weather lately…”
Wednesday doesn’t hear the rest of your rant, focusing instead on those pretty eyes of yours. Oh, how he longs to drown in them. To sink into their depths, seeing the world from your hopeful view. Unpacking all your thoughts, understanding and empathizing.
Listen to him. He’s practically a puddle of mush. What have you done to him?
“...Wednesday, baby?” You tilt your head as Wednesday snaps back into reality. “Were you even listening?”
He takes one more second to stare at you before sheepishly shaking his head. “Deepest apologies, cara mia. There are simply too many pretty parts to you, I cannot focus on every one of them at once.”
You giggle, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Maybe I should turn away, then. Stop distracting you with my wiles.”
Wednesday smirks. “Turning away from me would entice me even more, Y/n. You really want to play that game?”
“Oh my god. Ok, I’m not facing you anymore. You’ve lost that privilege.” Your cheeks are on fire now, and if you maintain eye contact any longer, you’re worried you might burst into flames. True to your word, you pivot to face the mirror. Then, using your arms, you hop up onto the counter, climbing into the sink for an optimal view.
Wednesday nearly has a heart attack as you jump. His hands fall into place, ready to catch you or save your head from a nasty bang should your acrobatics go wrong, but once you’re in place, he sighs loudly.
“Must you do that, my love?” His seriousness is ruined by a smile creeping onto his face.
“Sorry, can’t hear you. This moisturizer requires my full attention.” It’s hard tamping down your own smile, but the teasing seems to be worth it as Wednesday’s stare darkens.
“The moisturizer gets your attention, hm? That’s a dangerous game, cara mia.”
You don’t respond, instead dipping your finger into the container and dotting it on your cheeks.
“Come down from that sink so we can see who really has your attention right now.” Wednesday taunts you. After a couple seconds, you give in, closing up the product and carefully setting it down before jumping back down onto the floor. Within seconds, Wednesday takes a step and sits on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you along at the same time. Before you know it, you’re sat on his lap, a smirk on his face and a shocked look on yours.
“Attention still on skincare, love?” Wednesday teases.
You give up on the facade. “No,” You breathe, leaning in. “But what if I share my attention with it?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow as you get up, reaching into the bottom drawer of the counter and coming back to him with a small package. You sit back down, ripping it open and tossing the top in the trash.
“Want a face mask?” You ask.
“Is that one of those grotesque concoctions that spreads all over your face? The one that looks like a death mask?” Wednesday questions, but you’re already reaching into the package.
“Exactly, baby. Want one?”
“...Sure.” What’s the worst that could happen?
Twenty minutes later, and Wednesday is set up on your bed with no intention of moving. A green substance covers the majority of his face, making him question why he doesn’t let you do this more often. He feels more relaxed than he has in weeks, settled in amongst your many pink throw pillows and cherry blossom sheets. You’re settled in too, resting your head on his chest while trying to sync your breaths with the steady thumps of his heart. Your manicured fingers etch random shapes into his skin, tracing the hard lines of muscle and adding a heart or two every so often.
Eventually, though, the both of you become restless.
‘Wanna start a movie?” Wednesday asks, looking down at your comfy self with adoration.
You look up, meeting his eyes with the same love. “Can I choose?”
“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you.”
An hour later, and Wednesday is ready to commit homicide. Of all the movies you could have picked, you went with Mean Girls. Your defense? “It’s the feminist movement at its finest, Wednesday.”
“It’s… very pink.”
“Yeah, that’s the best part! All the decorations and outfits are amazing. They were actually part of what inspired this room’s decor.”
Wednesday looks around at the brightly colored walls, the pastel curtains, the cute pillows, and even the pink pens scattered across your desk. “I never would’ve guessed, my love.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous.”
Wednesday chuckles. “Yes, very.” He agrees sarcastically. You don’t dignify him with a response, instead choosing to lay back down on his chest and go back to watching the movie. You don’t get to stay there for very long, though, because a minute later, the timer on your phone goes off.
“Mkay. Time to take this off, babe.” You poke his face mask. Wednesday rises without complaint, heading to the bathroom while you grab some water and a cloth. Internally, though, he’s begging you not to. It feels so nice, and having you apply it was one of the best feelings in the world.
As you start working through the layers of the mask with water and a gentle hand, though, Wednesday revises his thoughts—never mind the application. This was the best feeling in the world.
As you work, Wednesday leans into your hands. He would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for your whispered promises of comfy beds and pillows and cuddles.
*****
The next morning, Wednesday gets up much earlier than usual. The sun is just barely up, peeking through your pastel curtains and coating the bed in a buttery yellow. You’re burrowed into his arms, tucked safely into his chest with the messy blankets surrounding you. He takes a minute to absorb your cuteness, smiling down at you as he slowly wakes up.
“Good morning, Y/n.” He whispers, not yet wanting to wake you. You’ve reminded him time and time again that the blinking digits on the clock right now are not digits you ever want to be awake to see, and he’s taken that to heart. But he still has to kill time until you wake–maybe a run? He could drop by the gym just down the street that he really likes. Or maybe a chore? The dishwasher still needs to be unloaded.
But those all sound like too much work for this early in the day, so Wednesday settles on just getting you a coffee. A nice five-minute walk and your drowsy smile to greet him when he gets back. Perfect.
Within minutes, Wednesday is up and out. He strolls down the street, taking his time to enjoy the soft sunlight. That’s new, he suddenly realizes–and probably your doing, as well. You’re a fan of tilting your face to the sun, soaking in the warmth, and claiming the rays cheer you up. Maybe you’ve passed that onto him.
A couple more minutes tick by, and Wednesday reaches your regular coffee shop. He enters the place with a little jingle as the door opens, and is immediately greeted with the scent of dark coffee and light chatter.
“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” A too-happy employee asks him as he walks up to the counter.
Damn, what was that drink you really liked? Something with pink in it, he’s sure of it.
“Just two medium coffees, one black and one with that pink flavor, please.” Manners with normies–that’s another thing you’ve unknowingly reinforced with him.
“Our pink velvet flavoring?” That sounds right.
“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.” Wednesday pulls out his card, handing it to the guy.
“Awesome. Name?”
“Addams.”
“We’ll have those coffees right out for you, sir.”
“Brilliant.” With that, Wednesday finds an isolated corner to haunt until his name is called, quickly grabbing the coffees and exiting the building. It’s an even quicker walk back with the warm drinks providing some heat on this chilly morning.
It’s a bit of a struggle, but Wednesday manages to buzz into the building, climb the stairs to your apartment, and work the keys until your door clicks open, all with his hands full. He’s greeted with the sight of you half-asleep on the couch, the news playing softly in the background.
“What are you doing up, love?” He questions, setting the coffees down on the coffee table and kneeling on the floor.
“Wanted to see you,” you mumble, grabbing for his hand and interlocking it with yours. “Was cold in the bed without you.”
Wednesday practically melts. How can one girl be so sweet and caring? So happy?
“I’m sorry, my love. But look, I got you that coffee you like to make up for it.” He gestures to the beverages with his free hand before resting it on your head. He goes about stroking your hair, lulling you back into a dreamlike state.
“Don’t do that, I’ll fall back asleep,” you bat at his hand, trying to get it out of your hair. You were up to see him, not to fall asleep on him.
“And I will still be here when you wake up, cara mia. Go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I love you.”
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librababe99 · 3 months ago
Text
Moths to the Flame
Jason Todd x Female Reader (Addams Family AU)
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Tags: Jason Todd, Female Reader, OOC, fluff, Addams Family AU 
Summary: Jason finds his heart captured by you whose haunting beauty and playful spirit ignite a passionate romance that dances delightfully between darkness and desire.
WC: 542 words
A/N: YALL just walk with me for a moment…this past weekend I watched the 1991 Addams family movie and it has become such a comfort movie for me. Like the love Gomez and Morticia have for one another warms my heart! And I couldn’t help but think…what if I wrote an AU with Jason x Reader? This could completely flop but I had to share it 😭🖤
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The dim light of the candlelit dinner flickered as Jason leaned back in his chair, an amused grin spread across his face. The opulent dining room was filled with the intoxicating scent of rich, dark food—braised rabbit with black currant sauce, of course. Everything about the evening felt delightfully macabre, from the creaking of the old mansion to the echo of thunder rumbling outside.
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched you across the table. You were the embodiment of everything he found enchanting: your long, hair cascaded over your shoulders like a waterfall of night, framing your skin and striking features. Tonight, you wore a deep black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, the lace details giving it a hauntingly beautiful touch.
Jason leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with unfiltered admiration. "You know, my dear," he began, his voice smooth and low, "every time I see you in that dress, it’s as if the shadows themselves are drawn to your elegance. You could make the Grim Reaper himself hesitate."
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "And what, pray tell, would you do if the Grim Reaper came knocking?"
His grin widened, and he leaned even closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Oh, I’d invite him to join us for dinner, of course. But only if you agreed to wear that dress. A fitting companion for our macabre soirée."
You laughed, a sound that danced in the air like a siren's call. It warmed his heart, sending a thrill through him. The way your eyes sparkled with mischief made him feel alive, as if he had stumbled upon a secret no one else could know.
"You're too much, Jason," you replied, shaking your head playfully. "But flattery will get you everywhere."
He feigned a sigh, clutching his chest dramatically. "Ah, but how can I not gush over the woman who makes even the darkness jealous? You are like a night sky full of stars, and I am but a moth, drawn to your light."
You couldn’t help but smile at his theatrics. Jason stood up from his seat, moving around the table with the grace of a dancer. As he reached you, he gently took your hands in his, his gaze intensifying. “Every moment spent with you feels like a dance—dangerous, delightful, and utterly thrilling. I would face any monster, any curse, just to see you smile.”
Your heart raced as you gazed into his deep, stormy eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. “And what if that monster is you?” you teased, unable to resist.
“Then I would be your monster,” he replied with a devilish grin, “if it meant I could keep you by my side forever.”
In that moment, surrounded by the flickering candles and the echoes of thunder outside, you realized you wouldn’t want it any other way. With a playful spark in your eyes, you leaned closer, your foreheads touching, the tension electrifying the air around you.
“Just don’t forget who the real monster is,” you whispered, lips curving into a playful smirk, and in that breath, Jason knew you were exactly where you both belonged: in each other’s darkness.
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newkatzkafe2023 · 4 months ago
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All monkey kings x wife!morticia reader, she loves really REALLY passionately and would always bring up scary and insane things as something excitable, i also wanna how they'd react if she said that line:
"Don't torture yourself my love, that's my job~"
You're creepy and you're kooky , mysterious and spooky your All together ooky the Wukong/Addams Family🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶
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(Lmk Wukong) Oh my he wouldn't survive with you around him. It's bad enough your super attractive, elegant, and way taller then him but the fact that your flirting and smother him so much leaving him daze and blushing in love. Then you go and say that torturing him is your job........clearly your right because being Around you was torturous to him in a good way.
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(HIB Wukong) God he would never tell you but with you around his Insecurities would be of the charts. Granted he was happy to see you after 500 years but sometimes he wonders of he even get somebody like you. Who is calm and gentle with him at best and so damn beautiful you welcome Luier and Silly girl with open arms as you loved the children. Then you tell him not to torture himself because that's your job, well Honestly that sounds pretty good right about now.
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(MKR Wukong) He would rather you torture him then having the monk and heaven bother him. At least you would make it somebody he too will enjoy. He loves you because you can be as brutal as him sometimes and take out enemies like no other. Then your always so support and elegant with it as well it's baffles him and makes him love you alot more.
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(NR Wukong) He wouldn't be able to do much of anything with you around him🤭😉 he wouldn't focus or function properly with your beautiful sexy ass around him. Wukong would suck up all the love and affection you go for him with all your cuddles and nicknames he would be on cloud 9. Then you tell him that it's your job to torture him gooooddd by all means torture him do whatever you want he's begging you🤤
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(Netflix Wukong) Holy crap the amount of sugar mommy jokes people are gonna make in the future. Wukong has known how to handle you sometimes, your like really pretty, mysterious, elegant level-headed, and god knows what else for him. He really loves you and gets a little overwhelmed by your very aura, but you would rather be around him like, wow. He sometimes wonders if this is the torture you were talking about.
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FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🌹☠️
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poisonlove · 3 months ago
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You⁴ | w.a
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Part 1 part 2 part 3
Getting used to it had been more difficult than expected.
It had been almost a month since that kiss and the proposal to see where things would go. Since then, everything between Wednesday and y/n had stayed the same, at least on the surface. Neither of them had put a label on what they were, but the brunette had realized that it was okay. She liked spending time with her, and the only real difference from before was the kisses they exchanged in secret within the walls of their respective dorms.
The real problem, Wednesday realized, was that y/n kept receiving numerous declarations of love from others. Because everything they did remained hidden, she couldn’t openly claim y/n in front of everyone at Nevermore. And that was deeply irritating her.
“Mmmh...” y/n mumbled from Wednesday's bed.
Y/n’s y/c eyes stared with annoyance at the back of Wednesday’s head, half-closed, almost as if she was trying to send her thoughts into Wednesday’s mind, hoping she would stop writing and come to bed with her. Wednesday could feel her gaze.
“Stop staring at me,” Wednesday snapped, her eyes glued to the typewriter in front of her.
Lately, y/n had become very clingy, wanting to spend lots of time with her. Despite tolerating her presence, Wednesday needed her space. She loved writing, loved wandering alone, and enjoyed spending some afternoons in the arms of her... y/n. But that was it. Sometimes she found herself spending time with her and Yoko, and that disturbed her.
“Are you coming?” y/n asked in a small voice.
She had had a horrible morning. She lost in fencing to Bianca, got a terrible grade in English literature, and misplaced her favorite headphones. If that wasn’t enough, she arrived late to the cafeteria and couldn’t eat anything.
She wanted to feel Wednesday’s presence; she needed comfort.
“Is it necessary?” Wednesday asked in a cold tone, her fingers diligently typing away. Her eyes were fixed on the sheet of paper, slowly taking shape as her thoughts were put into words, her character's actions drawing her deeper into the story.
“I need you,” y/n murmured in a soft voice. She was fully aware of Wednesday’s distant attitude, but she hoped she could make an exception for her this afternoon.
Wednesday had to stop writing.
She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, trying to remain calm. You want to give this a try, she thought to herself, then help her out. Addams slowly turned toward the bedroom and saw y/n looking at her with puppy-dog eyes.
She’s... cute, Wednesday thought, a small smile threatening to escape her lips.
Y/n opened her arms and gave an awkward smile, her cheeks reddening under Wednesday’s piercing gaze. Addams blinked and stood up from her chair, walking with a determined step toward y/n. In a way that felt awkward and mechanical to Wednesday, she complied with y/n’s request, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Thank you,” y/n whispered against her neck.
Wednesday resisted the urge to break the hug, letting herself be overtaken by the emotions that had been chasing her for weeks. The scent of lavender from y/n flooded her senses, making her relax. Addams tightened the embrace, her heart pounding in her chest.
She had grown used to y/n’s affectionate gestures, but part of her still felt as tense as a board. Y/n’s hand moved along her back, noticing how rigid her posture was.
“Are you okay? You’re so stiff,” y/n asked with concern.
Wednesday pulled slightly away from the hug and looked at y/n without blinking. Y/n’s y/c eyes gazed into hers with worry, and Wednesday felt an unmistakable warmth in her cheeks. “I... I need to get used to it,” she stammered.
Wednesday frowned... Since when do I stammer?
Y/n smiled broadly and let out a timid laugh, amused by Wednesday’s reaction. Her hands rested around Addams' waist, giving her a light squeeze. “How about...” y/n began, biting her lower lip, looking thoughtful.
Wednesday’s eyes dropped to her lips.
“We practice a little?” y/n asked in a husky voice. In the weeks they had spent together, y/n always asked for permission before kissing Wednesday. The reason? They weren’t officially a couple, and y/n was terrified of scaring Addams with her emotional intensity.
She was well aware of how clingy she could be.
Wednesday slowly nodded her head, and y/n grinned widely, leaning in toward the goth girl’s face. Y/n’s hands gripped Addams' waist as she gently pressed their lips together. Wednesday sighed and returned the kiss, her cold, full lips melding with y/n’s.
Y/n was careful, keeping her tongue in check.
Wednesday bit y/n’s lower lip and broke the kiss, her dark brown eyes studying the girl next to her with curiosity. Her breath was uneven, and a warmth spread through her chest at the sight of y/n’s tousled appearance. Every time they kissed, a spark ran through her body. Is this what they call love?
“When are we making things official?” y/n suddenly asked, causing Wednesday’s blood to freeze. She had promised herself she would respect Wednesday’s timing, but part of her hoped to be able to call her girlfriend soon. Addams pressed her lips together.
“No,” Wednesday said coldly.
“No what?” y/n asked in confusion.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wednesday said simply, her heart pounding violently in her chest. Coward, Wednesday thought to herself. You’re a coward.
Wednesday was terrified of being seen with y/n. Not because she was ashamed of her, of course not, but because she feared people would think she had softened. She wanted to maintain her character in front of Nevermore, while being herself in y/n’s arms.
Was that too much to ask?
“Fine,” y/n muttered monotonously, getting out of bed. She needed to get out of there. Wednesday blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction from her.
“Fine,” Wednesday replied coldly.
She watched y/n leave the room and immediately felt guilty. She wanted to spend time with her, to be together. But she was too proud to run after her and ask her to stay, so she returned to her writing, hoping her thoughts would focus on something other than y/n.
“Hey Wed, I saw y/n storm out of here completely mad... What happened?” Enid asked curiously as she entered the room. She had run into y/n in the hallway, and she had barely greeted her, too angry to say much. She was sure it was because of Wednesday. She and Yoko were the only ones who knew about their relationship.
“Nothing,” Wednesday responded monotonously, her eyes still fixed on the typewriter. Enid sighed resignedly and lay down on the bed, flipping through a magazine to pass the time.
She’d meet up with Yoko later.
(...)
Wednesday couldn’t write.
She could no longer ignore the unease tightening her chest. Even though her pride urged her to let it go, she knew she had to talk to y/n. Walking down the hallways, she took her phone out of her jacket pocket and dialed her number, but there was no answer. Again, no response.
Leaving the dormitory, she spotted Ajax leaning against a column near the dorms.
“Have you seen y/n?” she asked in her usual cold, detached tone.
Ajax, surprised by the question, raised his eyebrows. “No, I—”
She didn’t even give him time to finish before turning on her heels and walking away, leaving Ajax perplexed, his mouth still open. It wasn’t unusual for Wednesday to act like that, but this time she seemed a little colder than usual.
She walked through the gates of Nevermore with a determined step, her dark eyes scanning her surroundings. As she made her way through the gardens, she noticed the students' gazes on her, quickly looking away as they clearly sensed her foul mood.
A little further ahead, she saw y/n.
Y/n was sitting under a large tree, away from the other students' eyes. A stick was slowly burning between her hands, smoke rising in thin curls, and her eyes were fixed on the wood, focused on controlling the flame’s intensity.
Despite her heart pounding hard, Wednesday kept her usual impassive expression as she approached. The sight of y/n, immersed in her bad mood and that almost hypnotic gesture, struck her. The fire reflected in y/n’s eyes as she continued to deliberately ignore her, too absorbed in her anger or silent torment.
Wednesday stopped a few steps away, the sound of her shoes on the damp ground breaking the silence. “Y/n,” she said firmly, trying to get her attention but not raising her voice too much. She wasn’t used to apologies or pleading, and even now, she wasn’t sure if it was right to ask for forgiveness. However, her presence spoke for her: she was there, and that had to mean something.
Y/n didn’t respond immediately, continuing to watch the flame slowly consuming the stick in her hands.
Y/n didn’t look up right away, still turning the stick between her fingers as the flame slowly moved from one end to the other. The silence between them became palpable, filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved tension.
Wednesday stood still, her gaze fixed on y/n, but with that typical unreadable expression. She wasn’t used to taking the first step, let alone chasing someone, but with y/n, everything felt different, more complex.
“You should be more careful with that fire,” Wednesday finally said, her gaze shifting slightly to the side, almost as if she was trying to control her words. “It could get out of hand.”
Y/n scoffed, stifling a sarcastic smile. "I handle it just fine, thanks," she replied with a sharp tone, finally lifting her gaze to meet Wednesday's. In her eyes, there was a spark of defiance, but also something deeper—a hidden vulnerability that only someone who knew her well could detect.
Wednesday let out a small sigh, lowering her gaze for a moment. She wasn’t good with words, especially when it came to expressing her feelings, but she knew she had to say something. "Come to the dorm," she then proposed, almost nonchalantly, though the tension in her voice betrayed her. "We can... talk."
Y/n remained silent for a moment, weighing the offer. She was angry and wanted to keep her distance, but the truth was she couldn't resist Wednesday. There was something about that coldness, that way of appearing impassive and controlled, that made her cave every time.
"Talk?" y/n repeated with a slight hint of irony, letting the now-charred stick fall to the ground. But deep down, she already knew her answer.
Wednesday, without looking directly at her, gave a slight nod. "Or whatever else you want."
That small glimpse of vulnerability in Wednesday was enough to break y/n's last bit of resistance. Slowly standing up, she tossed the stick aside and approached, arms still crossed in a defensive stance. "Okay," she finally murmured, avoiding her gaze. "Let's go."
As Wednesday and y/n were walking toward the dorm, a girl approached them with a determined stride. Her eyes were fixed on y/n, completely ignoring Wednesday's presence as if she didn't exist.
"Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment?" the girl asked, blocking her path with a confident smile. Wednesday immediately stopped beside y/n, scrutinizing the newcomer with suspicion.
"I've been thinking about you a lot lately," the girl continued, ignoring the tense silence around them. "And I can't hold back anymore. I really like you, y/n. I'd like to go out with you." Her tone was direct, with no hesitation, as if she were sure of y/n's response.
Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, Wednesday intervened.
"I think you've made a mistake," she said in her icy voice, stepping forward and positioning herself between y/n and the girl. "Y/n is not available."
The girl stared at her, surprised by the interruption. "That's none of your business," she replied provocatively, finally acknowledging Wednesday’s presence. "Y/n can speak for herself."
Wednesday didn’t move, her cold, dark eyes piercing the girl. "She doesn't need to answer you because the answer is already clear. Y/n is my girlfriend," she declared, with a calmness that hid a silent threat.
The girl laughed, incredulous. "Your girlfriend? Really?" she asked, skeptical, glancing at y/n as if seeking confirmation. "I don't believe it."
The smile on her face, however, quickly faded when her eyes met Wednesday's again. Wednesday’s expression was icy, impenetrable, filled with an absolute certainty that made it clear she wasn’t joking. The chill in Wednesday’s gaze seemed to freeze the air around them, making it hard for the girl to find words.
"Try questioning what I said again," Wednesday added, her voice dripping with cold menace, "and I promise it won’t be a pleasant conversation."
The girl swallowed, visibly uncomfortable. Without another word, she turned and walked away quickly, her confidence evaporating in the face of Wednesday’s intensity.
Once the girl was finally out of sight, Wednesday turned to y/n, saying nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Y/n looked at her, still a bit surprised by the whole situation but with a small smile on her lips, appreciating how Wednesday had handled it.
"So... it's official?"
It was a question that touched on something delicate, something she had never had to confront before. Y/n’s words made her feel slightly out of her comfort zone.
"If official means I don’t tolerate anyone else hanging around you... yes, it’s official," she replied with her usual icy calm, though the tension in her eyes betrayed her effort to stay in control.
Y/n chuckled softly, surprised by Wednesday’s straightforward answer. "That’s not exactly what I meant," she said, stopping so that Wednesday would also turn toward her.
For a moment, their eyes met. Wednesday felt her heart beating faster than usual, but she would never allow her emotions to show too much. Yet, she knew she had to face this situation because losing y/n was not an option she could consider.
Yes," she finally said, her tone softer, though still restrained. "It’s official. You’re mine, and I’m yours."
As difficult as it was to admit it, Wednesday knew it was the truth. Acknowledging that reality was hard, but losing you would have been even harder.
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whiskehorange · 5 months ago
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Could you please write for platonic reader wanting to learn crafts/abilities from Morticia & Gomes, and as many characters from the hellboy movies as you possibly can please? (Sorry I just love them all)
Morticia
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I have a strange feeling Morticia makes her own perfumes in her spare time. With all the pruning and gardening she does, I can only imagine the kind of... "witchy" concoctions she's able to make up
She'd gladly take you under her wing and not only show you and let you wear her own, but would take this as a sort of arts and crafts approach. She gets it, her scents might not be the best fitting for you, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have what you might be looking for!
Morticia was absolutely over the moon when you came to her with your very own fragrance the first time. You had spent weeks watching and planning out some with her and finally had the time to make one with your very own fitting profile of scents. She couldn't get enough of the smell at first and even showed them to Gomez
Although, this is another very slippery slope that leads to her delving into gardening with you, if you're in that. But, let's be honest, we're down to do anything if it includes some one on one bonding with Morticia
Gomez
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Gomez couldn't be more ecstatic to hear you have an interest in his hobbies. It's different for you to watch him or ask him questions about it but actually wanting to take the time out of your day to spend it with him? Your the best-est friend he could ever ask for
His hobbies are either malewife activates or medieval dueling, and there is absolutely no in between But it really surprised him when you want to take up fencing.
It's something you've watching him do in his spare time, but you never noticed how much strength and control it took, but he was as patient as ever and was always there to correct your moves or give you tips on how to better your posture and stance
Each time you'd pull something new out of your sleeve from what he's told you he's as proud as ever, staring at you with wide eyes and an equally wide grin. You're learning, and even it it might take a while, he's just happy that you're taking it seriously
Hellboy
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Genuinely, what does he even do in his free time besides lay in bed, smoke, and do crossword puzzles? When you first asked him about what his hobbies are he really couldn't even answer you, he just stood there in his room and looked around cluelessly
I think, your best case in this scenario, is to just watch him for a while, you'll notice the things he does in his free time that he never thought about or classified as a "hobby"
You notice though, occasionally, that he divulges into whittling. Typically after a slow day he'll just kick back and mindlessly carve away until he makes something remotely into a familiar shape. It's not perfect, by all means, but it's something. When you ask him about it he says it's nothing but you insist
From here, he teaching you it like it's common sense. Correcting you how to hold the knife, how to hold the wood, resorting to just taking it out of your hands and showing you how to do it in the very beginning. Eventually, it becomes to casual to the two of you that even he's begun doing it more often and the two of you bring new pieces you're either working on or have finished for each other to playfully critique
Abe
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Annnnd on the other hand, there's too much that Abe does that it's really hard for him to say when you come to him, curious to do something new out of boredom. It takes him a while to think before he just spews out anything and everything he can think of that he's ever done
One of the biggest things though, I think he finds the easiest to ease you into would be scrapbooking. You can't tell me he doesn't entire stickers and little postcards and massive, thick journals just creatively dyed and crafted to a certain theme
But, it's easier than reading dead languages for fun, alright?
It's something he see's a fun and would love to have someone else he can share them with from time to time when he feels particularly crafty. He's ready to supply you with anything you could ever need - he's got plenty of spares
Bound journals, fountain pens, cards, and ink. Anything you could think of that you'd want to get crafty with, Abe's likely got it. Especially when it comes to ink and pens. And calligraphy? Abe teaches you that before anything else and gives out practice sheets like homework. So be ready to bring them back the next day for a stamp of approval
Johann
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There wasn't much that Johann had time for if it wasn't work, but he always appreciated a friendly visit from you in stressful times. Of course, when you first ask him about what it is that he really just does in his personal times, only one thing could come to his mind: his Bonsai's
Now... Johann is a bit more restrictive in what he's willing to teach you - at least for the more hands on things, that is. He has only a couple himself, ones that he takes precious time out of his day and schedule to trim and prune to his liking and he does it very meticulously
He grows delighted whenever you step in to see him now, taking it a slight break in his studies and research to lull you over to his small collection and teach about their varieties and their history
When you show your genuine interest for them he's over the moon, but very stern with you. No, you cannot have one of his and no you cannot prune his, absolutely not. Get your own!
But, he's all ears for the questions you may have and will answer them quickly and correctly. When you get your own, however, he's definitely going to have a lot to say. Harsh worded critiques, but he means the best (for the plant, at least). You might be one of his only regular friends, but that doesn't mean he's going to sit by and watch such a beautiful plant die!
Liz
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Liz can be a bit standoffish when it comes down to you wanting to really be a part of her needed alone time, but what she really needs is that person to share it with from time to time. Even she recognizes that it's not ideal to spend ALL of her time alone.
Annnnnd as on the nose as it may seem, the only thing that comes to mind for her to teach you would to be woodburning. OKAY LISTEN listen, I can see it as a small, therapeutic way for her to really get out some of her pent up energy and stress in a more controlled way
Although, the first time you sit down with her to start she realizes... well maybe it's easier for her to just do it from her fingertips than you. She shrugs it off and apologizes for not being able to really teach you anything, but deep down she was a bit sad there was nothing you could do
But the smile that slowly spread across her face the next day you showed up to her room with a woodburning kit in your hands was worth more than anything in the world. There was certainly a learning curve for her as well to see how your tools worked
It's not too hard for her to give you tips, however. It's a few more buttons and control than really only having using your thoughts and a single finger, but almost all of her tips and tricks apply!
Nuada
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You're not catching a break. That's all I'm going to say. No matter what it is you wanna learn from him you are not catching a break. it's like you're back to taking 15 highschool AP classes at the same time and each gives you 7+ pieces of homework a night
You always knew one of the more passionate things he was interested in was weapon smithing and craftsmanship. Whenever you had taken notice to the fine detailing of his knives and swords, he was eager to boast about how many of them were made by yours truly
It was when you kept admiring his work when he had a small inkling that you might be interested in learning yourself, and boy was that all he needed to get you straight to work. It's easy for the first few sessions you guys have, just learning the basics of different materials and how best to using them, but it doesn't take long for him to throw you straight into some manual labor
You're bent over a anvil and sweating your ass over making the most rinky dink ass knife you've ever seen that likely won't cut a piece of bread. But you better hope it cuts something or else he's going to make you come back and try again. You work a 9 to 5 now
Nuala
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God, what can't she do? She's just perfect, chefs kiss
But something that she can't get enough of is learning herself, so seeing you before her asking if she could tech you something she's got up her sleeve leaves her speechless - in a good way, of course! The two of you usually spent your time together kind of quietly, with your nose buried in books from all over the world and ages, but what you could never grasp was how Nuala could read most of them
You wanted her to teach you more languages than your own and she couldn't be more excited to teach you. Unlike her brother, she's much more mellowed out when it comes to helping you learn some more of the common languages in their elven cities and doesn't get onto you too hard if you struggle at first, she gets it
This is something she didn't realize she was passionate about - her ability to communicate with just about anyone, and she was more than happy to be your teacher. However, she can't help but laugh when you don't quite catch onto the more dead languages she tries to teach you about, but she'll just smile and save those for later
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"She's so beautiful, Mi alma." Wednesday muttered -for the first time ever- awed as he stared down at the little babe cradled safely in your arms. Little Blair Addams was a quiet baby, and there was no doubt she was the daughter of Wednesday, streaks of midnight hair and eyes black as coal. She barely cried when she came out.
"Would you like to hold her?" You asked softly, looking up at your husband, exhaustion bare on your face. Wednesday only nodes as he gently lifted his daughter from your arms, allowing you to give in to the tiredness of childbirth.
"il mio cuore, you only just arrived here and I will kill anyone who hurt you. You and your mother ruined me.." Wednesday whispered, his thumb ran over her cheek as she stared into his eyes. Blair cooed at his words as if she understood and a tiny smile on her little lips.
Life had gave him people he never knew he wanted and he would do anything to protect them. Anything.
Il mio cuore: my heart
Mi alma: my soul
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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months ago
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Y/N slides up to Wednesday…
Y/N: hello kitty
Enid: doesn’t she look adorbs?!
Y/N: I’ll say
Wednesday: I’m a cat with rabies. Keep your distance.
Y/N: I’ll get the vaccine
Wednesday: I have claws
Y/N: love hurts either ways
Wednesday: why are you so cute?
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anonymousewrites · 16 days ago
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A Good Day for Death Christmas Special
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Christmas Special
            “Alright, everyone, you have your teams!” said Enid, standing proudly at the front of the dorm. “Get ready, get set…Time of gingerbread houses! Best theme wins the right to choose the star of our dorm tree!”
            She was instantly running to grab candy and ice cream to make her gingerbread house into the cutest thing ever (and Ajax was more than happy to help her). She had gumdrops, glittery sprinkles, and a hell of a lot of icing.
            Bianca, Xavier, and Eugene (they had been invited and shoved into a team since Enid wasn’t letting Xavier get paired with Wednesday when she could play matchmaker instead) got some supplies and sat down. Bianca and Xavier instantly began arguing over what to make the theme, and Eugene quietly started cracking cookies apart to make a beehive.
            (Y/N) got a combination of a bunch of candy and instantly popped some into their mouth. When Wednesday levelled a look, they grinned impishly.
            “What?” They shrugged.
            “We need our supplies,” said Wednesday, organizing walls of the gingerbread house.
            “You’re into this?” (Y/N) smiled. “That’s so cool!”
            “I want to win. The sweets and colors and ‘Christmas spirit’ have nothing to do with it,” said Wednesday.
            “Whatever you say,” said (Y/N), not offput by any of Wednesday’s “attitude.” “Want me to cut the head off of these gummy bears so they’re dead?”
            Wednesday paused and raised a brow. “Murder on Christmas?”
            (Y/N) grinned. “It would be fun.”
            “Destroy all the peace on earth and goodwill to men with murder,” mused Wednesday. “I approve the storyline.”
            “Great,” said (Y/N). They held out a handful of gummy bears. “What color is the killer?”
            “Red. Blood on the green ones with contrast better to highlight the gruesomeness,” said Wednesday.
            “Got it,” said (Y/N), grabbing a plastic knife and cutting off a tiny gummy bear’s head. (They also may or may not have popped another one into their mouth).
            While they did so, Wednesday created the house and began to splatter blood across it. With toothpicks and some incredible ingenuity with gingerbread, a tiny guillotine sat in the yard of the house. (Y/N) happily added heads to one side and bodies to the other.
            “We should put ‘Redrum’ on the side of the house so it’s spookier,” said (Y/N).
            “Cliché but on theme,” said Wednesday. That was her way of complimenting the contribution, so (Y/N) hummed and opened a candy-cane. Wednesday didn’t even comment and just snapped another one into a spike for the yard. (She knew that (Y/N) had a love for all things sweet, which made their friendship that much more a mystery).
            “Times up!” called Enid. “Everyone front and center with your gingerbread houses!”
            She and Ajax were first up to put theirs on the counter. It was a sparkling castle of gumdrops and gingerbread. M&Ms made tiles for the roof, and sparkling sprinkles made the snow shine in the light. It was a lovely, classic gingerbread house and totally Enid and Ajax.
            “It’s so cute, Enid,” said (Y/N), smiling.
            “Full-on Christmas,” said Bianca.
            “I’m going to choose to pretend that is a compliment,” said Enid.
            “Watch it, Bianca,” said Ajax.
            “Try me, Beanie,” said Bianca.
            “Can we not?” groaned Xavier. It was bad enough working with her, but he had to stare at Wednesday and (Y/N) being so seamless together that it drove him up the wall, and this was the terrible icing on the cake.
            “Come on, show yours,” said (Y/N), eager to stop the conflict.
            “Here,” said Eugene, smiling. He put his (What did Bianca and Xavier have to do with it?) creation on the counter. It was a beehive of gingerbread complete with icing as honey and gumdrops as bees. Candy-canes were makeshift flowers that the bees landed on.
            “It’s so you,” said (Y/N). “I didn’t even realize you could cut these into hexagons.”
            Eugene smiled. “I know bees.”
            “(Y/N), Wednesday, your turn!” said Enid.
            “Tada,” said (Y/N), gesturing to it.
            “Slaughterhouse,” said Wednesday. “Or as I like to call it, home.”
            “You turned innocent gingerbread houses and gummy bears into a murder scene?” said Bianca. “Weird, even by our standards.”
            “At least we had fun,” said (Y/N) “innocently.” Wednesday was tempted to smirk as Bianca glowered and (Y/N) just grinned happily.
            “I hate to say it, but I think Slaughterhouse wins,” said Enid, staring at it. “It’s so…detailed.” She smiled. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, Wednesday, (Y/N)!”
            “Thanks,” said (Y/N).
            “Take that back,” said Wednesday, offended.
            “Congratulations, you two get to choose the star for your dorm’s tree,” said Ajax, smiling.
            “Can it be flames to burn the monstrosity?” said Wednesday.
            “Hey, I let you put a voodoo doll of your family memory handing from a noose on the tree,” said Enid. “No disrespecting the tree.”
            “I like this star,” said (Y/N), picking up a silver snowflake. “Wednesday, what do you think?”
            Enid wiggled her eyebrows at Wednesday as Wednesday’s attitude melted away.
            “The edges are like daggers,” said Wednesday. “We can put it up.”
            (Y/N) smiled happily, and Wednesday’s heart thumped. How unfortunate, she was still alive. At least (Y/N) was there.
            “I’ll put it up. Come and see our tree, guys,” said Enid, pulling the others to see all the ornaments that had been put up in the dorm. (She wasn’t joking when she said she’d let (Y/N) and Wednesday add whatever ornaments they wanted. It was a little…grim, but, hey, it was also familial with everyone making their additions).
            (Y/N) watched the tree light up with the silver star on top. They smiled. “Thanks for making the gingerbread house with me, Wednesday. It was a lot of fun.”
            “Murder seems to be our specialty,” said Wednesday.
            “A lot more fun when it’s candy,” said (Y/N), chuckling. Reaching over, they picked up Hershey’s kisses and held out a hand. “Kiss?”
            Wednesday paused and looked at (Y/N). “What?”
            (Y/N) flushed slightly. “Chocolate? For a job well-done? It’s not dark chocolate, but it’s good.”
            Wednesday hesitated before reaching out and taking the candy. “I like sweet things. Occasionally.” She glanced at (Y/N)’s face.
            (Y/N)’s heart fluttered, and they smiled. “I’m, uh, glad.” They had no idea what that meant, but they could hope, right? Clearing their throat, they looked back at the tree and their friends. “Merry Christmas, Wednesday.”
            “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”
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