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poisonlove · 1 month ago

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The Addams curse | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

A/N: Okay, I admit it. I read a story that inspired me so much that I "stole" the idea

Wednesday was painfully aware of the curse she inherited from her family: the Addams curse. It was a curse that had existed since the 5th century, binding an Addams to their soulmate. A curse that would drive one to madness if rejected by that person, a madness that would torment them even after death.

As alluring as that last thought sounded, Wednesday didn’t want to become a slave to another person.

And she especially had things to do.

Just the thought of her father's expression when he looked at Morticia sent a warm, nauseating sensation to her stomach, a warmth that was far from pleasant. It was a reminder that in her life she would encounter… her other half. She would prefer to skin herself alive than to fall into this trap.

Because love was, in fact, a trap.

Thanks to reading a book about her family's history, she learned that the curse activated with the first contact with the destined person. A touch that sent thousands of electric shocks coursing through the body, a bond capable of quenching the thirst of her cursed soul.

That’s why she was averse to any contact: no one, ever, would trigger that curse to drag her into madness. She categorically rejected the idea of succumbing to temptation; she was even willing to kill the destined person, fully aware that she would die immediately afterward.

there was another side effect: if your soulmate died, you would follow them incapable of living without them.

Wednesday pressed her lips into a thin line.

That moment had arrived the instant she crossed the gates of Nevermore Academy. A warmth spread through her body and an annoying itch kept her on edge. Wednesday mentally cursed herself for having attacked students at her old school: at least she wouldn’t have anticipated her end. Her parents watched her with curiosity as they approached her new room and Wednesday tried to maintain an unreadable expression, fully aware that chaos reigned inside her.

Where her mother stayed in the past: Ophelia Hall.

As soon as they opened the door the itch intensified and something indefinable vibrated in the air. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the curse or the fact that she had entered a painfully colorful room. A girl immediately sprang up from the bed, a smile stretching from ear to ear as her blonde hair with blue and pink streaks danced toward their direction. Another girl sat cross-legged on the bed to the girl to far too… enthusiastic.

There it was again, that annoying itch.

“Hi, roommate!” the blonde exclaimed excitedly.

Wednesday felt nauseated, a wave of discomfort tightening her stomach in a cold grip. It was a new sensation for her. She felt her throat constrict, the urge to vomit ready to explode but the lack of food ingested that morning left her with only a painful emptiness, like an abyss sucking her from within. With a shiver she realized that the nausea wasn’t caused by hunger but by the curse that poisoned her insides, slithering through her veins like a subtle venom.

Oh no.

The impression of tiny spiders weaving her stomach from the inside sent a chilling shiver through her, insinuating itself between her bones. Every thread of that imaginary web seemed to tighten around her, making every breath harder than the last. The sensation of being trapped, of losing control, terrified her in a way she would never admit to anyone. Wednesday found herself immobile; perhaps "paralyzed" was the best word.

“Are you okay? You look... pale,” the blonde said with concern.

Other eyes turned in her direction.

“Oh… Wednesday always looks half dead,” her father commented with an ironic smile.

Her mother’s hand rested on her shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze, a gesture that could have seemed comforting but for Wednesday was a reminder of the distance between them.

But inside, Wednesday felt a turmoil boiling in her chest. A raw, primitive energy surged through her like an electric current, making her muscles tremble. Paradoxically, it was the first time she felt so… alive. That pain, that sense of oppression and that devastating nausea had awakened an intensity she had never experienced before. It was as if the curse was showing her the limits of her humanity, forcing her to feel closer to life, precisely because she was on the brink of her annihilation.

If her mother hadn’t placed her hand on her shoulder, she probably would have fainted.

“I understand,” the blonde mumbled, a look of confusion on her face. “Anyway, I’m Enid, and that over there is my best friend Y/N,” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Y/N timidly waved her hand as a greeting.

“I’m happy to meet you!” Enid exclaimed, filled with bubbly happiness, opening her arms and walking toward her.

Wednesday’s eyes widened and she quickly took a step back to avoid contact. The itch had appeared as soon as she entered this room and the gothic girl didn’t know if it was the blonde girl who was the possible cause. There was also the chance that it was the other girl, Y/N, but honestly she didn’t want to know in any case.

Enid slowed down and looked at her with disappointment.

“Oh… I see you’re not a hugging person,” she mumbled weakly, still wearing a big smile on her lips.

“Do you like the room?” she asked curiously, her eyes so bright it seemed like she had two stars instead of irises.

“No,” Wednesday replied venomously.

“Sorry… Wednesday… is allergic to colors,” her father justified and Enid raised her eyebrows in confusion.

“What does it do to you?” she asked weakly.

“My flesh is peeling off my bones,” Wednesday replied in a flat tone, her lips reduced to a thin line. She felt the itch slowly fade but the annoyance remained on her. A faint laugh reached her ears, forcing her to turn toward Enid’s best friend. “Sorry… that was funny,” the latter stammered trying to justify herself as her cheeks flushed.

Wednesday stared at her intensely, a visceral hatred bubbling within her.

“Well… I’ll go now,” Y/N mumbled weakly. The girl got up from the bed and Wednesday found herself analyzing her quickly: tall, slender, long y/c hair and eyes of the same color. A smile resided on her lips and the goth felt as if her own were about to rise in reflex

she held back.

“It was nice to meet you,” she mumbled timidly.

Y/N passed by her and the proximity was enough to awaken the unsettling sensation gripping her insides. But luckily for Wednesday, it lasted only a few seconds.

(...)

Nevermore turned out to be much more fascinating than Wednesday had imagined: gorgons, werewolves, sirens, vampires and all the other creatures that populated the world of outcasts. However, what intrigued her the most was the series of murders wreaking havoc in the quiet town of Jericho. A frenzy of curiosity filled her; she felt inspired.

She longed to discover the identity of the killer, continue her novel about Viper and investigate any mystery that could be connected to her ancestor Goody Addams.

She would think about escape later.

Regarding her curse, Wednesday had narrowed it down: Enid, Y/N, and Yoko. Tayler and Xavier had quickly been eliminated from her list. Tayler for covering her mouth during the excursion in the woods to avoid being discovered by Sheriff Galpin and Xavier for taking her to the infirmary when she fainted. In both cases, she hadn’t felt anything, a total absence of emotions.

But Y/N was different. She was almost 80% sure that you were her soulmate.

Every time they spoke, even if she could detect a note of sarcasm in your responses to her icy remarks, she felt a palpable energy between you two, an electric current that seemed to draw her closer to you. Her eyes couldn’t tear away from yours and an unbearable fire exploded in her chest. She found herself experiencing mental blackouts lost in your gaze and on more than one occasion she had even stammered. She hated the curse, hated herself, and above all, hated you.

But what got her into trouble were her thoughts crowding her mind like a chorus of impatient voices: Take her hand, kiss her, find out if you are her damn ruin. These thoughts didn’t manifest with Enid or Yoko. With Enid, there was a weak itch, a sense of comfort but not attraction, probably because they were roommates. And Yoko? Well, she was simply a friend of Enid and Y/N.

Wednesday blinked and directed her gaze back to her plate.

The goth found herself having lunch at a table with her roommate's group. Despite loving solitude, she found herself amidst Enid and Yoko, with Y/N sitting in front of her, a calm expression on her face.

The buzzing continued.

Wednesday was close to Enid, so close that their shoulders brushed against each other. Anxiety gripped her stomach but she needed to narrow down the list, she wanted to know: she bit her lower lip and decided to eliminate the distance by leaning her weight against Enid's shoulder.

Nothing.

“Oh, sorry,” Enid shifted.

Wednesday furrowed her brow. Why hadn’t anything happened? Maybe the contact needed to last longer? Should she hold her hand or something? The goth extended her hand and placed it on the blonde’s arm.

Nothing.

She quickly fell into a panic, the electricity increasing around her and decided to touch Yoko.

Absolutely nothing.

“Do you want to kill me? Did you touch garlic with those hands?” Yoko asked, panicking as she looked at Wednesday through her sunglasses.

“I don’t think so… You would have already burned,” Y/N commented playfully. Wednesday looked up and locked eyes with Y/N. This only meant one thing... Her suspicions were true.

It was you.

You were her soulmate.

Oh, fuck it.

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letorip · 9 months ago

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somethin' stupid [ii]

"and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never felt so right before"

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: it's all her fault, and wednesday can't help but feel it in her bones.

warnings: mentions of blood, the police (gross), hospitalisation, crying

word count: 4.8k

A/N: thank you all for the love and support you have given to this silly little story of mine. it is absolutely insane. red font denotes the thoughts of those around you. kind of worried i may have rushed the ending, but i hope you like it anyhow. right, anyways...

===+++===

It took an additional thirty four minutes and twenty eight seconds after the beast sunk its claws into your chest, for Wednesday to come wandering out of the line of trees stretching to the cloudy sky and onto the nearby mountain street, still wearing your bright yellow raincoat bunched around her wrists.

Finding the cave had not turned out to be entirely as difficult as she had expected, and she managed to find its charred remains just as Eugene had said. There was no evidence to gather, really, and there never had been to begin with.

In the far away distance, only lightly covered by the rain, it sounded as if a flock of birds were screaming at each other and fighting, and the noise rang throughout the forest before settling in Wednesday’s ears. She had already been annoyed and frustrated enough tonight. The extra noise just set her even more on edge than before.

It took another sixteen seconds and a few steps closer then, for Wednesday to realise the noise bleeding from around the bend in the road wasn’t in fact, a group of birds. Instead, it was the worst sound Wednesday could ever want to hear.

Within an instant, Wednesday took off running, every sickening realisation clicking at once. The vision that had been plaguing her nightmares and every interaction with you came back in full force. Her stomach began to churn as she went, heart burning and ears ringing. She knew.

When Wednesday rounded the curve, she saw the cars and their sirens.

The red and blue lights bounced off of the dirt and pavement even from far away, reflecting in the rain water as it pummelled to the ground. Five police cruisers sat strewn every which way along the shoulder of the road, headlights on and pointed into the underbrush. Officers wandered the clearing, pointing their flashlights into the dark and yelling loudly to each other in an attempt to overcome the rain.

As Wednesday rushed towards the vehicles, a man stepped out of the closest car to her, wearing a plastic blue poncho that did mostly nothing to stop the merciless pounding of the furious rain. He spoke into a little radio on his shoulder, staring out into woods at his men while they searched.

Wednesday’s loud steps from her thick shoes warned him of her nearing, and the man turned, hand dropping from his radio. She was immediately displeased, greatly so; the man was Sheriff Galpin. He looked just as unhappy to see her, frown drooping into a wry glower.

“Addams what are you doing out here??!” He shouted at her over the storm, hands placing themselves on his hips. “It’s sure as hell past your curfew, now go back to Nevermore, dammit!“

Wednesday walked right up to him then, tugging him roughly by the poncho and his collar, which she balled up dangerously in her fist. It was a warning, and she meant it. Potentially, she meant it more than any threat she had previously given. “Who did you find.”

Sheriff Galpin’s eyebrows lowered, a line appearing in his forehead as he stared her down. “That’s official Jericho Police Department business, missy. You need to-“

Her grip on his clothing tightened. “Now.” Her voice shook a little. “Who did you find.”

He looked at her for a moment in the flickering blue and red of the dark, examining the look on her face. Her eyes were shining, though she would never admit to it. The old sheriff sighed. “Some kid from Nevermore was attacked. You might have known ‘em. Name was like, (Y/n) or something.”

Wednesday’s hand went slack, dropping back down to her side. “Were…,” she swallowed, attempting to cool the heat rushing to her face. It felt as if the Earth had just broken away from its orbit, to float off directionless into space. “Were they killed?”

For the first time, Sheriff Galpin seemed almost soft. He bent down to her a bit, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly as if to say ‘there, there.’ He had never liked the Addams girl much, though that seemed highly irrelevant in the moment.

“Uh, luckily no, though the camper who found them said they were awful close. The EMTs got here just in time. They’re headed to the hospital.”

Wednesday pulled back, tensing at his hand. “Give me a ride to the hospital,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The sheriff shook his head.

“Nuh uh, no way. You’re going back to school, kid. It’s too late for you to be out here anyways, and I’m sure Weems would like to know why the hell you were out past curfew in the first place.”

She glared. “I need to be at that hospital.”

The sheriff rolled his eyes at her, any moment of softness gone upon remembering why he disliked her and her family so much. “Like hell I’m going to take you there.”

Wednesday blinked at him.

===+++===

The night was still dark but no longer raining, when Sheriff Galpin speedily dropped Wednesday off with her bloody fist at the front step of the hospital.

Punching the tree again and again had hurt, the sharp bark slicing through the skin of her knuckles, but it also meant she needed a nurse and potentially stitches, and there was only one place capable of offering such services. Suffice to say, the sheriff wouldn’t become her fan any time soon.

The clock had slowly crawled to four in the morning, and though Wednesday was exhausted, and Enid and Thing were potentially freaking out back at the school as to where the hell either of you were, Wednesday was a bit more concerned with figuring out where in the hospital your room was. Oh, and maybe aiding her fist, which was now dripping blood onto the patterned green carpeting as she went.

Upon entering and striding right up to the front counter, Wednesday had gotten straight to business. She held up her bloody fist, placing it with a 'thud' on top of an infographic that sat on the reception desk. The previously sleepy-looking teenage receptionist stared at Wednesday with a look of wide awake, abject horror. “Tell me where the ER is,” she said.

"Uh...over there?” said the girl, raising a weak finger towards the doors in the far left and unable to pry her eyes away from Wednesday’s hand.

Wednesday nodded a single time before walking off, leaving the receptionist to lean over the counter and watch her go. The sign over the door was marked 'ER,' and Wednesday followed down the brightly lit hall until she arrived at a new waiting area. The people in there looked much worse for wear than the empty entrance at the front.

Nervous parents sat cradling their obviously sick children, a construction worker was repeatedly coughing in the corner with his head propped up, trying to stay awake, and a woman in a pantsuit was cradling her foot in a cast and wincing. If this was an omen to who was in your company, it was certainly a bad one.

Wednesday did just as she had before, walking right up to the desk with her hand and showing it to the nurse at the front. Only this time, the woman gave her a worried look, picking up the black phone to her right immediately and dialling a few numbers into the keypad.

“Uh, stay right there, ma’am,” the woman said. Wednesday nodded. She didn’t intend to go anywhere anyways.

The nurse who had come to find her was an older woman, with smile lines crinkling around her mouth and winging off the corners of her eyes. She looked almost like a grandmother, except the electric pink afro she had curled off of her head in coils that spoke of youth and vitality and fun. Enid would have liked her, and Wednesday knew you would have too, but she hated the colour pink just as she (mostly) disliked fun people.

The woman had gotten straight down to business, pulling Wednesday into a room with a metal tray of supplies already picked out and holding up her hand.

Even being someone who enjoyed pain as she did, the antiseptic stung when it was placed over the scratches on her fingers. She hissed a bit, and the nurse glanced up at her with pitying eyes, grabbing the supplies for her stitches off of a metal tray.

"You said you punched a tree?"

Wednesday was suspicious of the woman's sudden interest, but nodded. The nurse could probably tell her where you were anyhow. She didn't like making friends, but she could at least make allies. She had called you one of her allies when you had asked. Remembering that hurt now.

"Yes,” she replied, a bit annoyed with the question.

"Why'd you do that, then?"

"I needed to come here. It's important." The nurse began to stitch her up, and Wednesday flinched at the sudden contact.

"What’s important about here?"

Wednesday glanced down at her soaked, dirty shoes. "There's someone staying here I need to see." The nurse looked up at her then, studying her carefully.

"You're here for that kid that came in after being attacked." Wednesday swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. The nurse sighed, wrinkles filling her forehead as she finished up Wednesday's middle finger and moving to her ring finger, holding up the pad to the light. "They were rushed into emergency surgery about twenty minutes ago. You'll have to wait here a while, and just to warn you: it isn’t pretty." Wednesday sent a small glance to her, one that spoke of a timidness the situation had drawn out of her that wasn't previously there.

“Why don't you go home for the night? Get yourself cleaned off and dry."

She shook her head at the woman, frown deep and telling. "I need to be here when they wake up. They don't have anyone else. Both of their parents are deceased, and I need to be there for them."

"I'm sure they would appreciate you coming this far, honey. They're very lucky to have someone who cares for them as much as you do. I've been a nurse for a loooong time, and trust me when I say you've done plenty."

She certainly had not. Wednesday was not immune to the morbid irony of the situation at hand. In reality, she had cared all too much, pretended that she cared not at all, and tricked you for the longest time into thinking she cared too little. Caring had gotten her nowhere- worse, it had gotten you into an ambulance.

"I'm...worried," she struggled to spit the word out at the nurse, who looked at her with soft eyes of encouragement. "I've said some things, that I don’t think I’ll be able to apologise for."

"Shhh," the nurse hummed, finishing Wednesday's final knuckle and taking out some bandages to wrap around the raw skin. "You'll get the chance."

“I’m not sure I will,” Wednesday's frowned deepened. Her lip threatened to quiver a bit, but it was true. She had been so foolish to bring you along- so selfish to allow you to push the bounds of your own safety. It sat lodged in her stomach like a tumour, growing and growing.

If this is what it meant to love you, Wednesday wasn't sure she was ready.

The older woman gave her a sad smile. "Look, there's no shame in making mistakes. The shame is in being too proud to ask for forgiveness for them," she said, standing up from her chair. "They'll be in room 304, I think. Should be out of surgery in a couple hours, in case you want to…”

“I’m not leaving,” Wednesday insisted. And she didn’t, for a while.

Very little could spook an Addams, especially one such as Wednesday, but she had decided it was all too much, seeing you after surgery. It was an utterly horrific sight. Had it been anyone else, Wednesday would be staring at the intricacies of the scars waiting patiently to form, marvelling at the magic of twisted skin and scabs. But no, it was you in that bed, wheeled right in, and she felt the rare urge to vomit.

You were hooked up to so many machines. Buzzing, whirring, and beeping were the only things keeping you alive, and it served as a painful reminder for everything that could have been lost.

A ventilator sat over your mouth, covering your soft lips and strapped to your jaw. Live, it said, as did the several needles and monitors that were hooked into the skin of your hands and arms. There was too much surface area covered. Wednesday, even if she had wanted to, couldn't have held your hand.

Blood was still very much crusted to the planes of your skin in parts, or at least what was visible of it behind your bandages. The white cotton sat in squares and rectangles, taped to your chest and along the stretch of your cheeks and face. You would never be the same, and Wednesday knew it then.

Always, you would bear the evidence of the attack when someone saw you for the first time and winced a bit, and Wednesday held herself as partially responsible. Her love was too thick to sit in. Wednesday Addams swallowed the tears she would deny crying.

She sat with you an hour, then she walked down to the payphone on the corner and called Enid as the sun finally settled for the morning sky.

===+++===

In the three weeks since your attack, you had yet to wake up. The doctors said it was a coma, and that they had no idea when you would wake, if at all, and that only made Wednesday feel worse. She had gone to visit you before, after, and sometimes even during class. Her own hand had healed nicely, though there would be a permanent scar over the knuckle of her index finger from a particularly nasty cut,

On one visit, Enid had said it was as if you "were sleeping," but Wednesday couldn't disagree more. When you slept, it was on your side with your mouth, open, snoring softly. No, instead, you looked like a dead body. Even after acquainted with the room, Wednesday still felt a great pain in her chest upon seeing you every day like that.

Principal Weems had been more than angry, discovering another student had been hospitalised as a result of Wednesday's actions. She was also worried, and annoyingly tried to sign Wednesday up for more sessions with Kinbott.

That wasn't what Wednesday needed, and she shrugged it off as such, every time Kinbott tried to bring up what happened to you, like she was waiting for her to burst into tears. An Addams didn’t cry. Instead Wednesday let the guilt eat her alive.

She also hungered for vengeance. Strewn across her floor was a giant mental map of everything involved in the case, from photos of the bodies (Enid had fainted twice) to crime scenes, and even potential suspects, all laid out accordingly.

As soon as visiting hours were over, she bid you adieu and threw on your yellow raincoat that still smelled like you, before heading out into the dark to solve the mystery. Maybe it was a way to say she was sorry, maybe it was a manifestation of you potentially never waking up- Wednesday didn't know.

What was even more frustrating was how she knew you held the final puzzle piece. She wasn't a fool- your ability to see into the thoughts of those around you was probably what had caused the attempt on your life in the first place. You had intentionally placed yourself in harms way, then, turning off your abilities for her.

You were incredibly powerful for one so laissez-faire about life- a fact that only offended Wednesday more, as you had been the target and not her, or someone else. You, who had just worn your heart on your sleeve to her, listened to her throw it away, and then immediately gotten attacked. You didn't deserve that, just as much as Wednesday didn't deserve you.

Then came the question of what you did deserve to hear when you awoke. If she was such an excellent writer, why couldn't she think of what to say to you if that ever happened? It still didn't feel good enough, no matter how many times she rewrote the letters or changed the order of the sentences. Nothing seemed to feel good enough.

===+++===

Around the fourth week, Wednesday began to leave you long thoughts, like diary entries. She didn't even know if you could hear her, from in there. You had been taken off a ventilator and it looked as if you were finally starting to level out a bit. Wednesday didn't know why, but she suspected you could hear her thoughts.

So she started thinking to you.

It had started small, at first. 'Today is the twenty-sixth day of you being asleep, you know. If you don't wake up, I swear I'll kill you.' She didn't even know if you could actually hear her, or if you'd want to, considering your last interaction. Wednesday itched to talk to you again, and her recounts grew longer and longer.

'Today is the twenty-eighth day of you still not waking up. Mayor Walker passed, yesterday. I have my suspicions of Xavier. He seems to meet with Dr. Kinbott frequently, and it's possible she's Laurel Gates. I'm not sure if I told you about this yesterday, but I summoned my ancestor a few days ago, Goody Addams, and she warned me of the Gates Mansion.'

'Today marks an official month, 31 days, of you not being awake yet. My Uncle Fester is in town. He sends his regards, by the way. He's the bald one I spoke of before, and he was eager to meet you... Enid and I visited the Gates' Mansion with Tyler. We were attacked and Tyler was injured. I know that may alarm you, but I assure you, I'm fine... If you don't wake up... I'll curse you forever.'

She didn't mean it.

‘Today is day thirty six and you’re still not awake. Enid will be waiting with you while I go confront Xavier and have him arrested. You must forget this when you wake, but I miss you… I’m not proud of it but I do. I said I wouldn’t care for you this way but look at me now. You didn’t spoil anything, (Y/n). If you said you loved me now, I would say it back. Give me the chance to say it then, or else.’

Wednesday waited patiently for another minute, hoping even a little bit that her mind would spark you to life. When nothing happened she sighed just as she had every previous day. Enid gave her a sad smile.

“Go get him, Wends. We’ll both be here when you get back,” she said. Wednesday glared at the use of the nickname, but grabbed your yellow raincoat off the back of her chair, shrugging the oversized jacket on and heading out the door. If there was one thing she thought would make amends, it would be catching your attacker and achieving revenge all on her own.

Of course, thirty seconds later, when Wednesday was long gone, you shot up right like a rocket, and Enid let out a scream.

===+++===

You were climbing, it felt like. You weren’t sure what, but you were pulling yourself up and out of something, pads of your fingers gripping the surface and lifting. It was one clutch after the other, and you had no idea how long or where you could possibly be climbing to.

Were you dead? That was entirely possible. You had blacked out with Tyler’s claws ripping and tearing at your chest and come-to in the back of the ambulance as it sped towards the hospital. A nervous-looking paramedic stood over you, casting a shadow over your eyes, and from there you had passed out again. Maybe you had died then.

Of course, it was a possibility. Not a welcome one, but it was still a possibility. Either way, you had to figure out a way to warn Wednesday about Tyler. Maybe if you just kept climbing. Time seemed to slow down, and it was one hand after another.

There was definitely sound coming from the outside world, and it wrapped around your head in mumbly nonsensical jargon. You recognised the voice, that was definitely Wednesday, and she was definitely close. Every now and again small words like 'Xavier,' or 'Kinbott,' would peek through the mist and you were left to wonder as to why they were relevant.

You climbed a bit harder. The voice would come in and then out again, and you were left wondering if days were passing or maybe it had just been an hour. All you knew was to keep climbing. Your fingers felt raw, your arms ached to stop, but you kept going to keep Wednesday safe, wether she wanted you to or not.

Before you knew it, a hand came forward for the last time, and it was like a button had been pressed. Suddenly, you weren't in any void, or any back of an ambulance, you were in a bland hospital room, sitting straight up and looking right at a mortified Enid.

"Oh my god!" She yelled out, pointing at you in surprise. "OH MY GOD!!!" 'WHAT THE FUCK!!!!'

"TYLER!" You yelled back.

"WHAT?!" Enid yelled.

"IT'S TYLER! And hi!"

Enid fainted again, just in time for a nurse to rush in upon noticing you were awake.

===+++===

One thing you had missed dearly whilst in a coma were fruit cups. You sat rather contentedly, eating a mango fruit cup in your soft hospital bedsheets and leaning back against a checkered pillow. From around you in the hospital, noise buzzed in your mind. It felt good to have your blinders off for once, even if it meant you had to focus in on Enid and the noise directly in the room with you.

"Thirty six days???" you asked. Enid nodded.

"Wednesday- I mean all of us 'But mostly Wednesday', were worried sick that you wouldn't wake up. Are you okay? What was it like in there?" 'How the hell are you still alive???'

You shrugged. "Not really sure. I just remember my arms hurt and I was in this void-thing, trying to pull myself out..." You grew serious. "I need to speak to Wednesday."

Enid leaned forward. "And you're sure it was Tyler? He doesn't seem like he could hurt a fly."

"I saw him, Enid. He was covered in blood and he was in his own head thinking about the attack and how pleased Laurel would be for him to succeed. It's him."

"Wednesday thinks it's Xavier," she said. You shook your head.

"She's wrong. I know she's sweet on Tyler, but-"

"-She's not sweet on Tyler, (Y/n). 'You CANNOT still believe that after all of this...though I guess you were comatose' I've said this since the beginning of the year, you bozo. She's sweet on you, and you two are such idiots running around and pretending like you don't know."

The painful memory of your final interaction before the attack came back in waves, pulling you under and tugging you into the deep. You cleared your scratchy throat, still sore from its lack of use. "Enid, Wednesday made it perfectly clear how she felt about me."

Enid rolled her eyes. "You two, I swear you're going give me grey hair. Oh! Speaking of appearances," she sat up. "You haven't seen how you look yet!"

You frowned, not entirely sure you wanted to. You knew you had facial scars- the sharp slashes to your nose and cheeks were enough to know that now, but you weren't sure how much you wanted to see them. Enid pulled out her phone camera, flipping it around to selfie mode.

It wasn't as bad as you thought- a giant twist of a scar curved around the apple of your cheek before reaching up through the lateral third of your eyebrow and stopping shortly after. Another crisscrossed over the bridge of your nose. Still bad, though. They were noticeable, and those were only the ones on your face. You frowned, and Enid seemed to regret asking to show you them. 'I just messed up, didn't I.'

'Oh my, cara mia' said someone's noise in the doorway. You looked up, hearing her arrive, and there she was. Wednesday stood looking almost nervous, hands crossed over her chest awkwardly, like she was uncertain if she was welcome. You tensed. "You're awake," she said.

You nodded. Then you did Wednesday a favour and turned your own noise off to give her the privacy she coveted. Wednesday sent a look over at Enid who just stared. When the werewolf didn't take the hint, Wednesday cleared her throat.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry," said Enid, standing sheepishly. "I guess I'll just go get some food from the cantina...even though I already ate and want to see how this happens," she muttered. Wednesday sent her a much sharper glare, and Enid scurried out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Wednesday spun to you. "If you died, I would have killed you."

"I know," you nodded. "Enid told me you were here all the time." She frowned.

"Never speak of that again," Wednesday said, seeming almost embarrassed. "Enid wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"She's not really good at keeping secrets. You probably shouldn't have told her anything if-"

"-Did you hear them, when you were in there?" She asked, cutting you off mid-sentence with what she had really been wondering the entire time, but too nervous to ask. You blinked.

"Hear what?" If she had been saying important things to you whilst you were under, you didn't know what she was referring to. The look on Wednesday's face was unintelligible.

"I said some important things, (Y/n)," she said, fidgeting with her fingers. "I sent them through my thoughts."

"You also said some important things before I was attacked, Wednesday. You called me a lost puppy."

"I know," she replied. "I was worried this very thing would happen if I didn't."

You snorted cynically. "Looks like it happened when you did, actually." She looked wounded by that, and now you felt bad. "I didn't mean it that way, Wends, I'm just trying to warn you-"

"I love you too," she said.

Any thoughts or words you potentially could have come back with were lost, slipping through your fingers and tumbling to the floor. Wednesday took a step closer, placing her hand on the bed next to you, flipping it over to show you her knuckles. A few small pink scars littered the skin there. You picked it up in your own, brushing over them with your thumb.

"I meant it. I love you too. Even with your scars- which are magnificent." Wednesday thought for a moment, then looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you with a love that is more than love."

"That's Edgar Allan Poe," you whispered. She nodded, then she swallowed, forcing the words out.

"I see now, that I was...wrong. I have been deceitful, and I have been unkind. I pushed you away when you deserve much more than that- likely much more than me. I cannot express how earnest my regret is, and just how much I want your forgiveness-"

"Yeah yeah, stop talking like an old English guy," you said with a laugh, pulling her scarred hand to your lips. You sat up a little bit more, and though it hurt, you pressed your lips to her palm. When you pulled away a moment later, she kissed you full-force. Her hand moved to your neck, playing with the hair there and delivering the perfect amount of gentle longing that made you fall back against the pillow.

She pulled away all too soon again, but the small smile that teased the corner of her mouth spoke of future ones to come. "You said you were going to warn me of something?" She said in between attempts to catch your breath. You raised your eyebrows, remembering the dire information at hand.

"Oh, yeah, Tyler attacked me," you said, leaning your neck back against the pillow.

"What?!" Wednesday said, pulling away with her eyes as angry as ever. "Why didn't you lead with that??" She didn't want to believe it, but she knew you wouldn't lie.

"I got there eventually, and you needed to apologise!"

Wednesday sighed, shaking her head. Though she would never admit it, she did truly miss your ridiculousness. "Anything else?"

"The master of the creature-"

"-It's called a Hyde," Wednesday corrected you.

"Yeah, that. The master of the creature wears red boots. I saw it in Tyler's vision."

The girl in black stood up, heading for the door. "Thank you, cara mia. I'll be back when this is over."

"Go get 'em tiger." She turned to you, unimpressed.

"Shut up."

"Yeah yeah, love you."

After a moment she sighed. "I love you too."

thank you all so much for your support on this story! i absolutely will be writing again, and am here to stay. i cannot thank you all enough, and as always, PLEASE tell me or message me about any typos as i will fix them ASAP. i'll definitely come back and change this later if i feel like it. i tried not to rush the ending but was also majorly conflicted as to where i should leave it off. so if it bugs me later down the line, i'll change it.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine

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woewriting · 1 year ago

Text

cherry lips

pairing: wednesday addams | reader warnings: mdni! ooc wednesday/soft wednesday, established relationship, implied sex at the very end, no pronouns used but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. word count: 1521 a/n: i'm late for wdw, i know, but i couldn't let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right?

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, should I fear for my life?”

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

“You most definitely should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But only if it was made by your hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

“So… did you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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hs-is-loml · 2 years ago

Text

Defending. (x.t)

PART ONE OF TWO

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: wednesday tells you about her suspicions about xavier but you come to his defense and are determined to find proof to prove her wrong

Warnings: mentions of making a small cut, very little like a drop of blood, hydes? (those ugly mfs) NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is going to be in two parts, but part two will be posted late 12/1 or early 12/2 depending on when i finish writing it! it's basically a smut fic for part two which is why i decided to split it up in case people are not comfortable with it!

masterlist - part two

“Now, this is too far,” you said to Wednesday as she told you about her suspicions about Xavier being the monster.

“All the evidence points to him.”

“Wednesday, it’s not him.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re in a relationship with him,” the girl argued back with her.

“No shit, Wednesday. I know him enough to know he’s not. You think I wouldn’t notice by now if he were going around town killing people?”

“You’re letting this blind your judgment,” Wednesday stated.

“NEWS FLASH WEDNESDAY HE’S NOT THE HYDE! WOULD IT KILL YOU THINK FOR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?!” you yelled at the girl who just raised her eyebrows back at you.

“What are you going to do when you find out he is?”

“Nothing,” you answered softly you could feel a headache coming from yelling, “There’s nothing to find out.” You walked back inside from the balcony and exited the room before you felt like destroying anything, and Enid would get mad at the mess later.

You wandered around the school before you came upon the statute of Edgar Allen Poe. You sat down near the statute wanting to clear your mind for a second before you looked up and realized the mark beneath the book he was holding. You tried to recall what your mom would always tell you as a kid about the Nightshade Society.

“He was notorious for his riddles. For it was not one alone, but each line was individual. One to remember is, ‘The answer will give a sharp cracking sound,’ that will help you once you find it,” was something she always mentioned when she talked about Nevermore.

“A sharp cracking sound,” you repeated as you stood from your spot and it clicked, or more so snapped into place. You raised your right arm and snapped two times. “Thank you, Nightshade Society.”

You walked down the staircase into the dimly lit library. The portraits that hung on the wall of old members caught your eye as you looked about the room. At the end of the portraits you find your parents, they tell you to make a name for yourself, but how could you live up to them?

“You put that bag over my head, I will choke you with that very rope in your hands,” you warned the people who stood behind you as you looked for your mom’s diary knowing that would be the only thing you could find answers in. “You should know to not mess with a witch with heightened senses.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, we were just trying to have fun,” Kent joked causing the other to mutter in agreement.

“I WASN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING I SWEAR,” Xavier yelped once he notice it was you and threw the bag in his hands to Ajax.

“Someone’s in the dog house tonight…” Yoko teased. Kent and a couple of the others gave a couple howls joining in the joke.

“You know Xavier you could’ve told me about this,” you said as you finally found your mother’s diary.

“Babe, if I could, I would’ve-”

“He’s sworn to secrecy,” Bianca pointed out as she gave you a dirty look when you walked to a desk with the diary in your arms.

You pulled it out to see she sealed it with magic though not any kind of magic, blood magic. “My family was a part of the Nightshades long before you, although I thought it to be disbanded.”

“Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died,” Xavier explained which answered your thoughts as he walked up to you noticing that you were looking for something.

“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves,” Yoko added on.

“What are you looking for anyways?” Xavier questioned you.

“If you’re trying to open your mom’s diary, you can’t,” Bianca told you cockingly.

“Maybe you can’t,” you retorted just when you noticed a letter opener sitting at the corner of the table.

You reached over and grabbed it seeing that it had a sharp edge. You noticed from your peripheral vision that the group was crowding around you to see what you were doing. Xavier was right next to you with his attention on the knife you held in your hand. You lifted your right hand over the book and took the knife to your palm just before it touched your skin you heard shouts from around the room.

“Y/N!”

“Woah, girl, no need to prove a point.”

“No need for bloodshed-”

“What are you doing?!”

“No, no, no, no, absolutely not,” you heard Xavier say as he tried to grab for the knife, but it was too late. “Oh my god, only you. Literally, you’re the only one who would do this.”

You sliced the inside of your palm and allowed for the knife to drop down onto the table as you felt the sting in your palm. You closed your fist and put it directly above the lock on the book. You felt the blood sweep down near the bottom of your fist before it dropped down into the lock.

“Blood magic?” Yoko asked in amazement when she saw the lock unlatch and you opened to the front page that held your mom’s portrait along with her signature.

“Only the very best for mother dearest,” you remark sarcastically.

“That explains a lot!” Kent said from behind as Xavier looked around for a first aid kit. “Bianca was trying to open that months ago and nothing would work!” right as the words left his mouth, Bianca smacked him in the back of the head causing him to groan in pain, “Well, ow.”

When Xavier finally found a first aid kit that looked like it could be decades old, he went back to your side and held out his palm to you. Putting your sliced palm in his hand without him even having to ask you.

“I couldn’t find any actual alcohol to disinfect it, so vodka will have to do,” he unscrewed the bottle with one hand and looked back into your eyes before you gave him a slight nod telling him it was okay for him to do it. “This might sting.”

“Oh shit, I can’t watch,” Ajax gagged as the vodka was poured onto your palm and the blood washed away with it.

“Makes the both of us,” another member said.

“Stop being babies, people would think you’re the one with the cut palm,” you told them off as taking in the pain with no reaction. “At least I have a hot doctor patching me up,” you smirked.

“Only for you,” Xavier muttered as he focused on wrapping the bandage around your hand. At this point, almost all the members already left not wanting to see what you and Xavier get up to.

“Thanks, babe,” giving him a kiss on the cheek before returning your attention back to your mother’s diary.

“What was so important that you have to look into your mom’s diary?” he asked you. “You’re looking for answers, but for what?”

“Any information about hydes.”

“That’s the monster, Wednesday was talking about right?”

“The same one she believes you to be, yes.” you look up from the diary to see his confused expression.

“Wait, me?” he wondered aloud.

“I told her it wasn’t you though, but that girl is the most stubborn person I have ever met,” you informed him taking one of his hands in your non-injured one to give it a tight squeeze in reassurance. “You have to be careful, I know you’re not the Hyde, but she is going to do everything she can to prove her point.”

“I love you.” he blurted out to you. “You could’ve easily believed her, but you didn’t.”

“I know you, Xavier. There’s no damn way in hell, I’m going to let you be falsely accused for something you so obviously are not,” you stated. “And, I love you, that’s why I’m trying to see if my mother knew anything about Hydes during her time here,” you smiled at him.

You turned to put the diary back onto the desk as you hurriedly flipped through the pages scanning for any kind of information on the damn monster. You were about to turn to another page just before you noticed a name you’ve heard of before. Francois Sylvanne. Xavier moved to stand behind you leaning over your shoulder to read the diary as well. He placed his hands on your hips to steady himself causing you to lean back into him.

“Seems like Wednesday’s little boy toy just got way more interesting,” you pointed to the name on the page for Xavier to read.

“Who is she?”

“His mother. The same one he goes to therapy for, I heard she died a while back, and apparently the sheriff isn’t only bad at his job but bad at parenting too,” you explained as you read more of your mom’s writing.

There’s something about this girl. She keeps to herself. Quiet. Distance. Truly an Outcast. I have a feeling something is going on with her or at least something will. I’m going to keep a close eye on her, but she is graduating this year.

“Weird, your mom always has good intuition, I wonder if she’s right about this one too,” Xavier said after he read your mother’s entry.

You flipped through more pages of the book and found nothing. You looked at every line on the pages, and your mother never mentioned her once again. It wasn’t until you got to the last page of the diary to see a quite messier version of your mother’s writing.

THAT GIRL IS A HYDE. FRANCOIS IS A HYDE. HIDDEN AWAY WITH A NORMIE IN THE TOWN.

“No,” you gaped as you turned to see nothing more and reached the end of the book.

“Do you think Tyler’s the Hyde?” he whispered into your ear.

“It’s the only way. It makes sense too,” you claimed, “But the question is why?”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe angst #bianca barclay #fanfic #witch

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nouvxllev · 8 months ago

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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maybankswhore · 2 years ago

Text

mastermind , xavier thorpe.

pairings: xavier thorpe x reader

“what if i told you none of it was accidental and the first time you saw me , nothing was gonna stop me?”

“what if i told you i’m a mastermind? and now you’re all mine , it was all by design.”

summary: xavier knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you— and he always made sure to get the things he wanted.

Xavier remembered the first time he saw you.

You were wearing your favorite outfit , one he had seen you wear plenty of times now , and you were clutching a stuffed animal in one arm and holding cotton candy in the other. With a bubbly smile on your face , you followed around your friends , soaking in the scenery of the carnival and grinning ear to ear. ( You really loved carnivals. )

He hadn’t seen you before. You didn’t go to Nevermore , and he wasn’t too fond of Normies. But there was something about you that seemed so different. It sounded cliche , but something clicked inside of him when he first saw you. You were beautiful , and you looked so sweet and innocent. He wanted to know you , who you were , what you liked. He wanted you to think he was just as attractive as he saw you. God , did he want you.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets , he huffed when you strolled on out of sight. The carnival was packed and he knew he’d look weird just watching around for you the entire time. He also knew , he didn’t want to approach you in front of your friends. He wasn’t particularly fond of them— just you.

He tried getting the image of you out of his head. It was just one girl , he kept telling themself. There’s more out there , don’t bother.

He played a couple games with Ajax , chatted with Wednesday , and still nothing turned his head the way you did. Nothing interested him enough to want to stop thinking about you.

“Bro you’re hot.” Ajax scoffed. Xavier bashfully admitted to him what his problem was after looking so irritated that past thirty minutes. “You make art come to life. Literally.”

“Okay and what if she’s like a super cunt who only dates guys like Tyler Galpin?” He borderline whined , hating that he cared so much.

“Then she’s a cunt so why would you wanna be with her still?” Ajax pointed out.

Xavier nodded , knowing Ajax was right. Maybe he was scared of finding that out— having the already made image of you tainted by a scornful tongue or an upturned nose.

“She seems to like Enid.” Ajax cut in , nodding over towards the blonde talking excitedly to you. You talked to her grinning , showing her the piece of jewelry Enid complimented you on.

Xavier watched the two of you closely , his eyes lightening up as Enid handed you her phone. He silently prayed you were exchanging socials instead of numbers , so he’d be able to find you later.

When you turned your phone around , showing Enid you had followed her , Xavier grinned excitedly.

“Gotcha.”

“what if i told you none of it was accidental and the first night that you saw me , i knew i wanted your body? i laid down the groundwork and just like clockwork the dominos cascaded down the line.”

That night Xavier laid in his bed and searched up Enid’s Instagram. Social media wasn’t really his ‘thing’ but he had an account just to be nosey every now and again— and luckily , it came in handy.

He wasted no time in searching through Enid’s followers until he found you. It took him about twenty different people , but then , finally , your profile picture was a photo of you in the woods. A huge smile on your face as you stood there with your arms wide open , eyes screwed shut.

Shamelessly , Xavier stalked you as far as your Instagram would go. He was in awe at your photos , how artistic some of them were compared to the pretty selfie’s you’d take. There wasn’t any sign of another significant other in your life , which made a proud smirk appear on his face.

He followed you , and turned his phone , ignoring the excitement bubbling in his stomach.

Then the next morning , as soon as he woke up , he saw you had followed him back. And he smiled.

The next time he saw Enid , he grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side , stuffing his hands in his pocket nervously. “So. . .”

“You wanna know about Y/N.” Enid cut to the chase. “Ajax ratted you out to me last night! He said you couldn’t stop talking about her. Xavier that is so cute! You guys would be the perfect couple.”

Xavier made a mental note to tell Ajax about his blabber mouth as he flushed , rolling his eyes. “Calm down. I just wanna know if , you know , she’d—”

“She’s not like the rest of them , I promise.” Enid cut him off excitedly again. “In fact! She’s sneaking in me and Wednesday’s dorm tonight.” She smiled proudly , “you and Ajax should come by.”

Xavier smirked. “You know , I’m surprised at how little work I’ve had to do to score this.” He admitted , thinking he’d have to go on the wild hunt to find you somewhere’s in town.

“Maybe you’re not the one trying to score.”

“you knew i was a mastermind and you’re mine , and all you did was smile. ’cause i’m a mastermind.”

Enid was finishing up your hair as you checked it subconsciously in the mirror. “And he asked me about you?” You already heard the story a million times , you just wanted to hear it again.

You were practically leaping with joy when Xavier had asked to follow you. You caught his attention. Finally. You wore your favorite outfit , ran around the entire carnival looking silly , just hoping he’d come up to you.

You were a bit disappointed when he didn’t , but when Enid texted you saying Xavier was asking her about you— you were ecstatic.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the same question she’d been hearing for the past hour. “Do you suffer from short term memory loss?”

“I just don’t want to assume he’s into me but really I’m just being delusional.”

“Didn’t you say he followed you.” Enid tried easing your overthinking.

“Yeah but—”

“Which means he was looking for it because he didn’t know your name before!” Enid clapped excitedly. “I love love.”

“Love makes me want to operate on myself while I’m wide awake.”

Wednesday’s comment was left uncommented on because a knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

Your stomach was in knots and Enid gave you an encouraging smile as she went to open the door. You immediately felt shy , unsure of what to do or say.

“Y/N’s already here!” She almost squealed , moving away to let them walk in.

Xavier’s eyes immediately fell onto you. You sat on Enid’s bed , with your hands in your lap for comfort. The way you looked at him made him grin , nodding up at you. “Gonna introduce me , Enid?”

Enid giggled and you stood up , smoothing down your clothes and walking up to him.

“Don’t you know her already?” Wednesday’s monotonous voice spoke up. “You followed her Instagram.” She said simply , not looking up from her place on her own bed , reading.

Xavier’s cheeks went red with embarrassment as Enid giggled and Ajax laughed. You even chuckled a bit , finding his red cheeks and the way he scratched the back of his neck endearing.

“Well yeah but—”

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced.

“So it seems.” Xavier laughed. “In the flesh.”

You were two caught up in his big green eyes to answer. His face was definitely something to look at. Every feature just fit him perfectly , his voice and demeanor. You were smitten.

“I think me and Y/N are gonna go off on our own.” Xavier told the others without looking away from you , his heart beating so fast.

“Already?” Enid whined. “You just got here.”

Xavier looked at you questionably , cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Yeah–” you broke the stare to glance towards Enid briefly with a sympathetic smile. “We can all meet up later?”

“God , I hate teenagers.”

#xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #enid x reader #xavier thorpe imagines #taylor swift #mastermind #wednesday #xavier #thorpe

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selineram3421 · 10 months ago

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Hissy Kitty😾

Chapter List

Let's see. A one, a two, a three...

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5: Not yet made/in the process.

🃏 Updated everytime there is a new part. 🃏

Taglist@

@jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @hxzbinwrites @alikate82 @angeliclovely69 @line-viper @tsukilover11 @cheshairacat @the-unhinged-raccoon @plapperlapapp @thesimpguru @stevenuniversezanite @random-3455 @hypnossses @crazyforbarnes @ngjhgftujgrtui @haveawanderfulday @dark-stars-and-the-moons-melody @karolinda007-blog @twistedkisses @ghostedddd @viridiya @akiqvq @gracesupremacy @i-like-potatoes12533 @dappersapperdoodle @raeinn @midoria-kinnie @ch1hvro @howdidthishappenomg @readersmood @speedycoffeedelight @atlasalastor @lady-lik3r @michi-keinz @belletifeshyl @fudosl @mydearlybeloathed @uhhhimbored @enby-rising @enbytwink @star-bloom42 @blu3birdprince @+? The rest of the taglist in the comments😼

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majosullivan · 6 months ago

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Nevermore Dashboard Simulator 2

🔄 many-coloured-grass reblogged

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

I don’t care what any of you are saying, I just think it is weird that people are joking that Lenore and Annabel are secretly into each other when they have shown constant distant for each other?? Go take a walk through the academy grounds

🔮 sorcery-sorcery-sorcery Follow

the fun police right here is trying to put me in gay detenion but Lenore and Annabel are blocking the way because Lenore has pinned Annabel against the wall

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

THE DEVIL HAS A CLAIM ON YOUR SOUL

#WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? #THEY CLEARLY HATE EACH OTHER #WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE SAYING STUFF LIKE THIS?

8,689 notes

🎇 labyrinth-of-light Follow

[snapping out of remembering the horrific details about how I slowly suffocated under a black mass of slurry, not knowing if my siblings were alive or not, all because I smelt the scent of coal coming from the fire in the common room] oh I should have been at the club

13,477 notes

⚰️ were-all-dead-here Follow

906 notes

🔄 ghostlygal reblogged

🕯️ phantomwraith Follow

i can’t deal with this academy anymore! i mean i can, and i will, obviously. but i can't fucking do this anymore!

🖤 ghostlygal Follow

Area Man Who Has "Had Enough" Wakes Up Next Morning at 7:00 AM to Get Ready to Go to Class Again

7,347 notes

🌤️ serenest-skies Follow

I don’t know if it’s just the stress from the announcement that there’s only one new life, but I SWEAR I just saw Lenore drag Annabel Lee into a closet just now

#or I have started to lose my mind #with how today ended #that seems like a much more reasonable conclusion

29 notes

🔄 spookyxskeletons reblogged angelic-oddity

☀️ angelic-oddity Follow

God I wish I was that bell

☀️ angelic-oddity Follow

THIS WAS MEANT TO BE SAVED TO DRAFTS

☀️ angelic-oddity Follow

GUYS PLEASE STOP REBLOGING THIS, ISN’T MY SHAME ENOUGH?

☀️ angelic-oddity Follow

NO YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME

15,074 notes

🔄 fable-silence reblogged

🍁 fable-silence Follow

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭I HAVETO GO TO CLASS AGAIN😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰

🍁 fable-silence Follow

my greek chorus ^

4,832 notes

🎊 impishimpulses Follow

My roommate, who just manifested into an six foot tall ochimusha and consistently calls me dearest: All the creatures in this maze seem to desire nothing more than to suck dry any life we have remaining, i just don’t understand this academy

Me [heard “suck dry” and got so hard i got nauseous]: i think i hauve the devil in me

3,496 notes

🔄 ferocious-fiddle reblogged

🧟‍♂️ gutzngore Follow

The Deans are literally Tweedledum & Tweedledee coded because of their sinister symmetry. but whatever

🎻 ferocious-fiddle Follow

OP I know this is a joke, but just remember that if you go knocking on enough doors asking to see the devil, eventually he’ll answer.

6,660 notes

🩸 bloodstained-petals Follow

I’m never going to listen to anyone ever again that tries to give dating advice along the lines of ‘The worst thing that they can say is no :)’, bitch I just witnessed that Ada girl get insulted so throughly in public after she tried to flirt with Prospero that she literally manifested into some screeching rotten hag

#like be real with me right now

706 notes

🔄 spookyxskeletons reblogged

🪸 drenchedkelpie Follow

The whole experience with the rats in yesterday’s lesson felt like having to escape a ficious pack of bloodthirsty hunting dogs, and I was but a simple and unexpecting deer

🪸 drenchedkelpie Follow

WHAT THE SHIT

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

3,969 notes

🔄 floatinghoax reblogged

🌺 etherealdances Follow

Kill them with kindness? WRONG. Spectre attack 👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

1,002 notes

🔄 deadgirlwalking reblogged namelessghoul

⚙️ the-greater-the-ass Follow

Call me Wall Street the way I. The way I just crashed onto the floor because of that fucking Hungry Ghost

⚙️ the-greater-the-ass Follow

Have y’all just. Ignored everything that has happened the past few years or are some of you just fucking with me?

🌹 blushedandbloomed Follow

Is this some kind of wide spread prank that people are doing? Me and my roommate were talking about what memories of our family we had recovered and I mentioned how badly my brother was affected by his conscription during the World War II, and my roommate just looked at me like I was speaking another language and asked me what war I was even talking about

⚙️ the-greater-the-ass Follow

I’m sorry, world war number

WHAT?

🃏 demonic-betting Follow

I’M SORRY, WORLD WARS???

🌹 blushedandbloomed Follow

🪲 goldbug1843 Follow

@blushedandbloomed you cannot just react like that without any explanation about what on earth you meant by World War II

🌹 blushedandbloomed Follow

I MEANT WORLD WAR II, AS IN THE SECOND WORLD WAR, 1ST SEPTEMBER 1939 - 2ND SEPTEMBER 1945. WHY ARE YOU GUYS REACTING LIKE THIS?

🌻 hyacinth-hair Follow

Unless you are the Oracle of Delphi, why the hell are you stating an end date for a war that’s still going on?

🌹 blushedandbloomed Follow

BECAUSE I’M NOT??? WHAT YEAR DO YOU THINK IT IS?

🌻 hyacinth-hair Follow

1942, WHAT YEAR DO YOU THINK IT IS?

🌹 blushedandbloomed Follow

1950. I WOULD LIKE TO THINK I WOULD KNOW THE YEAR THAT I DIED THANK YOU VERY MUCH

⚙️ the-greater-the-ass Follow

IT’S LITERALLY 1934???

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

🌃 eveningstar Follow

This is getting out of hand

🪵 premature-burial Follow

I DIED IN 1916, HOW ARE YOU GUYS SAYING THAT YOU WERE ALIVE AROUND TWENTY YEARS AFTER THAT WHEN I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THE WAR THAT TOOK MY LIFE IS EVEN OVER?

💤 sleepyirene Follow

LOVELY ARE YOU TELLING US THAT YOU DIED DURING WORLD WAR I?

🪵 premature-burial Follow

THAT IS WHAT YOU ALL MEAN BY WORLD WAR I???

🐸 hop-frog Follow

🌟 celestialwhispers Follow

I must be having some kind of vivid dream because there is no way this is right. In the most recent memories I currently have, the coronation of Edward VII recently occurred, and now I’m seeing people claiming that they died 1910-1950?

🌬️ loss-of-breath Follow

HOLD ON, QUEEN VICTORIA IS DEAD?!

⚙️ the-greater-the-ass Follow

🌙 voyage-to-the-moon Follow

I am going to lose my marbles

🪓 namelessghoul Follow

WHAT FECKING YEAR IS IT

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

56,395 notes

#nevermore #webtoon nevermore #nevermore webtoon #fake tumblr dash #dashboard simulator #fake tumblr post #lenore vandernacht #lenore nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #annabel lee nevermore #white raven

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coconut530 · 1 year ago

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WE BACK FOR SPOOKY MONTH BABY!!!

#Nevermore #Nevermore Webtoon #Webtoon #Oh so good to have them back #Just swell #Dang I didn’t figure Annabel would be so shocked (although poor bby sorry Lenore gave you a panic attack)#She usually thinks of everything #Like even if Duke didn’t tell her Ada told the others they just smacked him in there #But like still WHAT IS THE PURPOSE ANNABEL #OF LOCKING HIM AWAY #Like it’s her best friend she’s bound to notice #And everyone else like Morella and Pluto #But eh anyway #Lenore’s threat was MMMM good like that ribbon line definitely shook Annabel #That paneling is great #She may seem small compared to Annabel but she has more power (3 panels versus 1)#Very cool and clever #I love when Prospero comforted her like she did to him in 71 #Very cute #three guys (tm)#I wonder who they are #Will tiny man #Lenore SLAMMING HIM INTO HIS ROOM #Epic #although Lenore sweetie you have no bullets #I guess it still makes a good threat but still you have no bullets #OVERALL EXCITED WE’RE BACK SO COOL AND FUN #YAYYYYYY

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cordeliasdarling · 4 months ago

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Staring is Rude — Larissa Weems x Reader

——

A/N: Took a while to get motivation to write again, but here I am. I hope it’s alright, I just love the thought of Larissa being a stalker. A bit darker than my usual few stuff but hey. If someone likes this I may make it into a lil series. Any interactions will be appreciated!!

— Beta read by the wonderful @poulengp — idk what I’d do without your support :))

Warnings: Larissa being a bit creepy but in a soft way????

——

You always look good in the morning.

At least that's what Larissa thinks. The way you comb your hair with a green brush despite blue being your favourite colour. The way you do your makeup but always try the eyeliner a few times before you're happy with the results. All of this makes her smile. It's a part of her morning routine now— parking outside your apartment block and using those trusty binoculars to spy on you. Well, she doesn't see it as spying, merely observing. That's not a crime, is it?

One particular Tuesday, Larissa sits in her expensive looking car, one she could easily afford with the salary she earns at Nevermore mixed with her savings. Why not splash out for once? She sits there, humming a tune she heard on the radio as she was getting ready for the day. But you don't appear in the window. She checks, and checks again, and you don't appear. The window is empty, just showing the cream wall of your bedroom.

Worry sinks into Larissa like a bite. Are you okay? Did you need help? All those panicked thoughts flood her mind, starting to feel nauseous. Where were you? Her eyes scan the road, searching for your car, and it isn't there. She swallows thickly, suddenly nervous. At the same time, her phone pings, and she hastily picks it up, seeing it's her alarm, notifying her that it's time to go back to Nevermore and start the school day. She sighs. You are okay, she tells herself, you are okay. Probably just crashing at a friend's house after a long night. It wouldn't be the first time

After one last look, Larissa tucks her binoculars in the glove compartment and drives off.

—

"I'm at the end of my tether." Larissa booms, pinching the bridge of her nose. It didn't help but it is always something she does out of habit. A habit that is growing increasingly more common.

The young girl lets no emotion show on her face. Her foot simply taps against the hardwood floor rhythmically, almost as if she was bored— the cheek she had!

Principal Weems bites her tongue, because she is very close to cursing under her breath, something she would never do in front of a student but Wednesday evokes a lot of feelings like that. She simply takes a deep breath, the air filling her lungs as she rises from her leather lined chair. Her deep crimson heels clacks against the varnished wood, though she stops in her tracks when she hears a small 'ping'. She knows what it is, a personalised tone for the tracking app she uses for you. She had paid for the customization, wanting it to be different to the default tone in case someone were to hear and recognise it somehow. Stupid technology, she briefly thinks to herself. It is very tempting to retrieve her phone from the bag she had placed beside her desk, though looking at Wednesday's curious expression, she fights the urge.

"You have one more chance in this academy. One more toe out of line and you're out of here. I don't care what your mother says. Do you understand me?" The undertone in her voice is deep, letting the young girl know she truly means it.

"Fine." Wednesday stands up and Larissa sits down. Once the girl is gone, Larissa picks up her bag, fishing around and finding the phone. Her hands are almost shaky as she unlocks the thing and opens the app.

According to it, your car is on the move, heading from downtown to your home. Relief settles in Larissa like never before.

—

"One hot chocolate please."

Larissa Weems announces as she locks eyes with the usual barista in the Weathervane. He nods with a smile which she returns. She scans the small café, breathing in the warm scent of coffee beans. She's never been a fan of coffee but she can appreciate the warmth it gives. Eventually she sees you. It takes a great deal of strength not to grin and walk over.

"Here you go, Ms Weems." The man calls out, handing over the steaming cup. She thanks him and sits down at the table behind you. Her eyes lay on the back of your head, staring intently. She's struck by the memory of when she first met you. When you wore those loose fitting jeans, lilac sweater, scruffy shoes, not caring about what anyone thought. You'd walked into this café with your laptop, typing away, utterly unaware of what was going on around you. Perhaps if you had looked up, you would have noticed the way Larissa's eyes widened, almost dropping her drink and scolding herself. Your beauty was beyond anything she'd ever seen before. Had you just moved into town? Surely, because she'd never seen you before.

And that's when it all started. The following home, the tracker planted under your car, the sussing out of your house and working out your routine. It had never occurred to Larissa that it might have been creepy. She used the excuse that she was just interested.

"Staring is rude, you know."

Larissa jumps out of her daydream and is shocked to find that you have swivelled around in your chair and are now looking at her directly. There is a lump in her throat. She has heard you speak before, that soft tone like a lullaby, but never directed at her.

"Sorry—" She utters, hands clenching around her cardboard cup. This is new, out of what she had planned for the day. It feels uneasy, breaking the routine.

"No worries. I just felt someone's eyes on the back of my head." Your head tilts back as you laugh quietly. Butterflies erupt in Larissa's stomach. She feels so special, to be the object of your focus.

Larissa smiles faintly, "Just thought I recognised you." Her voice is a little strained.

"You must recognise me very often." Your tone is nonchalant but it shows what you mean. That you have noticed her staring over the last few months. A blush rises to Weems' cheeks, luckily not too visibly, due to the makeup she applies every morning.

Just in time to save her, Larissa's phone rings. She looks at you apologetically, picking it up. It is the mayor, asking to arrange a time to meet. She takes her time talking, as part of her mind wants to think of something normal to say to you. But by the time she's finished, you've already slipped on your coat and left, continuing with your evening. Larissa exhales, letting go of the breath she doesn't know she's been holding.

"Damnit—" She mutters to herself as she shoves her phone in her bag. Her mind drifts back to the morning, wondering what on earth you had been up to. Being at a friend's house was the only possible solution, unless you had been up to no good. Terrible scenarios of you hanging out with dangerous people cross her mind, but she shakes them off before she can get too carried away.

She pulls out her phone again.

She opens the app she probably opens at least sixteen times a day, noting that your location is moving swiftly down the main road, indicating that you are driving home. This gives Larissa some comfort, knowing you're going to be safely inside with the doors locked.

She finds her way home fifteen minutes later, settling on the couch with a generous glass of red wine, something that always sooths her. Perhaps some would say she drinks too much, but to that Larissa would say to mind your own business.

She thinks of the small interaction you two have now shared, and it is like a drug. Now she craves to be the centre of your attention again.

So she plans for the next afternoon, when she knows you'll be in the local library choosing a book.

——

#stalker alert :)#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendoline universe #Wednesday #principal weems #stalker #fanfic #lesbian #lgbtq

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herlondonboy · 2 years ago

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5 Times You Flirted With Wednesday And 1 Time She Flirted Back

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader / Enid Sinclair x platonic!reader

Summary: what the title says

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, y/n being down bad, I got lazy after the second one, also I wrote it when I was half asleep, google translated Spanish (sorry if it’s wrong). lmk if there are any more !!

Word Count: 1.1k

The first time you’d flirted with Wednesday Addams was completely subconsciously, honestly. You walked into your friend’s dorm and froze at the sight of Enid watching with a frown as she took the colour off the window on her side.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, completely blown away.

Enid turned to you, but you were too enthralled by the mystery in front of you to look away. You tilted your head and admired her jawline and braids. Her fringe were scary, it was so perfect, like she just hopped off the Hairspray set. When she was done, she kicked the translucent vellum paper mindlessly onto Enid’s half. When you looked down, you saw the duct tape line and jumped over to Enid’s side.

“Oh, Dios mío. Cómo puede una persona ser tan perfecta?” You asked aloud and Wednesday turned to you as you blushed.

Her eyebrow was raised slightly as she looked on through her eyelashes. “di algo así otra vez, y perderás la lengua.” Her words were so smooth and calm, you almost forgot that she was threatening you.

You held back a smile at her glare and bounced over to Enid’s bed. The floorboards screeched in pain that went ignored by the people in the room as you sat on the brightly coloured bed. Enid rolled her eyes at the look on your face and sat next to you. She dared you to say what was on your mind.

You shook your head and she nodded, pleased. You began spending more time in Enid’s dorm and less in Yoko’s. And Wednesday was already sick of you by the second week at Nevermore, but you didn’t let that get you down.

The second time you shamelessly flirted with Wednesday was during the Poe Cup. Or after, really. Wednesday had been coerced onto the team by Enid after Bianca poisoned Yoko with Garlic. Your team had won and Wednesday, you, Enid and the fourth person - one of Enid’s other friends - stood on the stairs as Headmistress Weems handed Enid the trophy. The celebration of the Black Cats beating the Sirens (really just anyone beating the sirens for the first time in years) had everyone but Bianca cheering.

Wednesday went back to her dorm and you followed her. When you got there, you leaned on the doorframe. “You should wear the suit more often, Cat-Woman.” You said as Wednesday sat down at her desk.

“Cat-Woman is chaotic good; I’m neutral evil.” Wednesday muttered mindlessly, clicking away on her typewriter.

You shrugged and made your way to her desk. You jumped onto an empty space and began swinging your legs near Wednesday as it took everything within her not to rip you apart. Limb. By. Limb.

You went to pick up a sheet of paper from the desk, but that idea was quickly shot down when Wednesday slapped your hand away. “Touch them again and you’ll lose your hands.”

“Wednesday, all this threatening is making me feel some way.” You shifted on the desk before jumping off and gaining Wednesday attention.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“My dorm… Unless you want me to stay.” You smirked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, y/n.” Wednesday said emotionlessly, as always. “Enid will want to celebrate with you, so you should probably stay, though.” She then muttered, turning away from you so that you couldn’t see her face.

You shrugged and nodded, walking over to Enid’s bed and just watching Wednesday in a comfortable silence until your friend came.

The next time you were all eating lunch. Wednesday had decided to eat with you for the first time since she’d been at Nevermore. It had only taken her two and a half months. Much to both of your luck, the only free seat by the time she had gotten there was next to you and opposite Enid.

Wednesday didn’t make a sound as she sat down next to you. You opened your mouth, but Wednesday held her hand up, stopped you. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not even if it’s to say how ravishing you look in that jumper?” You asked with a small smirk.

Enid cleared her throat, making you and look away from each other and to the blonde. “What have i told you about flirting with my friends?” Enid scolded you as you dropped your head.

“You told me not to.” You mumbled. “But can you blame me? Look at her.” Wednesday whacked your hand away when you motioned to her.

“Honestly, y/n, go touch some grass.” Yoko called out from the other side of the table, rolling her eyes.

“Te sugiero que cuides tu boca.” Wednesday said.

You smirked. “Eres inexplicablemente caliente cuando estás enojado.”

“Don’t make me regret eating with you.”

The fourth time was also an accident, much like the first time. You were lying on Wednesday’s bed (it was shocking that she hadn’t tried to stab you the moment you crossed over the line, I know), scrolling through your camera roll when a picture you’d taken without her knowledge.

You smiled at it. Nothing could ruin this feeling of serenity. Nothing but Wednesday lying next to you. Actually, no. She didn’t ruin it. She made it better. “You’re so pretty, Wednesday.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them and your cheeks warmed up quickly. “I’m sorry.” You said quickly, looking away from her.

“Thank you.” Wednesday murmured, pushing her back against the bed frame. You widened your eyes. “Don’t make me take it back.”

The last time you’d flirted with Wednesday was after she’d defeated Joseph Crackstone. After being all bloody and bruised, you pushed your way through the crowd to look for her. “Enid, where’s Wednesday?” You asked the blonde hurriedly, eyes darting around.

“y/n? What happened?” Enid asked, looking at you, searching for any extensive wounds.

“Most of it’s Tyler.” You whimpered, hugging yourself.

The chittering of the Outcasts suddenly died down and everyone turned to the gate where Wednesday walked out. You sighed in relief before running towards her. In that moment it was just the two of you. She winced as your body collided with hers in a hug and furrowed eyebrows before pushing you away.

“Fancy seeing you here, gorgeous, huh?” You mumbled.

The one time Wednesday flirted back, you got a mere: “You look good covered in blood.” She had joked. The look on her face was still deadpan as she once-overed your body for any lethal wounds. “Are you okay?” You nodded. Wednesday’s lips quivered as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

You sobbed into her shoulder. The thought of nearly losing her to Tyler still fresh in your mind as your own shoulders shook. Wednesday held you tight. Seeing you wolf out to save her and almost get killed by Tyler was the last thing on her mind. Sure, she couldn’t stand physical contact, but having you in her arms was what she had longed for since she first heard the words you muttered on her second day at Nevermore.

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poisonlove · 1 month ago

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DEATH | w.a

Pairing: wednesday Addams X reader

A/n: this is absolutely Shit

Despite being only 17 years old Y/N had already risked her life three times, each time because of her roommate at Nevermore Academy Wednesday Addams. That petite and mysterious girl instilled a deep fear in her, yet her presence evoked an inexplicable attraction in Y/N. It was a complex feeling where allure mingled with a constant sense of terror, creating a palpable tension between them.

Their room in Ophelia Hall was shared with Enid Sinclair, the sunny blonde girl who had welcomed Y/N from the very first day. Despite the three of them, there were only two beds: a single bed on Enid’s side and a double bed on Wednesday’s side. Y/N had tried to sleep next to Enid but the werewolf girl (not yet transformed) snored and kicked in her sleep.

After a sleepless night Y/N decided to move.

On the second night Y/N attempted to settle on the cold floor next to Enid’s bed, keeping well away from the line Wednesday had drawn to mark her side of the room. The rumors about Addams were known to everyone and Y/N preferred to avoid ending up with broken bones... or worse. But even that night she couldn’t manage to sleep.

By the third night, Y/N would remember what felt like a thrill close to death.

“Move,” Wednesday hissed, appearing like a shadow at the edge of the bed.

Her dark eyes, devoid of emotion, pierced through Y/N with an icy intensity.

“Me?” Y/N asked incredulously, with dark circles telling the tale of two sleepless nights. Wednesday fixed her with an impassive expression, barely nodding in a decisive gesture.

With trembling hands, Y/N approached the double bed. She had always thought it strange that there was such a large bed just for Wednesday. Perhaps it didn’t matter to her. Perhaps.

“Stay on your side,” Wednesday ordered, her voice sharp as a knife. “If you dare to cross the line, I assure you, you will never disturb my sleep again.” Her words were cold and precise, sliding over Y/N’s skin like ice.

Y/N’s y/c eyes briefly fell on Wednesday’s face, which, like every night had her long straight hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked surprisingly... delicate in a way Y/N had never seen before.

Y/N nodded quickly and slid into the bed trying to ignore the tension that knotted in her stomach. She rested her head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“Good night, girls,” Enid mumbled before turning off the light.

But even that night, her thoughts continued to buzz in her head. Unlike Enid, Wednesday lay still and silent. Even her breathing was barely perceptible. When Y/N glanced at her she saw that Wednesday was lying with her arms crossed over her chest, almost like a mummy.

She rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the strange tension in the air. The bed was comfortable but sleeping next to Wednesday felt like resting beside a threatening shadow. Y/N bit her lip and turned onto her side, inadvertently facing Wednesday.

Suddenly, two cold hands grabbed the collar of her pajamas and pulled her toward Wednesday’s face. The girl’s expression was cold, her eyes flashing with irritation while her loose hair framed her face.

“Stay still,” Wednesday said, each word laced with venom. Her breath faintly smelled of mint as Y/N found herself only inches from her. Y/N's gaze shifted momentarily to Wednesday’s tightly pressed lips. She nodded quickly, fear tightening her throat.

“If you move again, I assure you, you won’t open your eyes ever again,” Wednesday murmured, her tone barely a whisper but heavy with threat.

With a decisive motion she let go of Y/N and shoved her back toward her half of the bed. Y/N stayed there, wide-eyed, her heart pounding in her chest while Wednesday returned to her rigid position, arms crossed over her chest and eyes closed.

It had been terrifying. But behind that fear was something inexplicable that continued to make her heart race.

The second experience came a few weeks later.

Wednesday had had a terrible day, worsened by the fact that their friend Thing had been attacked by someone. The worry for him was palpable and Wednesday’s anger more tangible than ever. Y/N knew they were close to discovering the identity of Hyde and his master. And despite the time spent together, amid mysteries and dangers, risking their lives multiple times in the woods where Rowan had died, amidst the ruins and in the abandoned Gates house... Y/N could not overcome her fear of sharing a bed with Wednesday.

She had learned to remain still and motionless, almost holding her breath in hopes of not disturbing Wednesday’s sleep. But one night she could not avoid getting up: she needed to go to the bathroom.

She slipped out of bed silently, trying not to wake her roommate. The cold floor beneath her feet sent a shiver up her spine but it was still a relief to escape the tense atmosphere that dominated the room for a moment.

When she returned, she tried to be equally quiet. She placed a knee on the edge of the mattress to climb back in but suddenly a flash of steel brushed against her skin. A dagger embedded itself in the mattress just inches from her hand. The scream escaped her before she could hold it back, echoing in the silence of the room.

Enid, strangely, continued to sleep undisturbed.

Wednesday blinked awake, suddenly alert. Her black eyes locked onto Y/N, her face cold and impassive but her gaze intensely serious.

“What the hell was that?” Y/N gasped, her heart racing. But Wednesday didn’t seem remotely disturbed, as if her reaction was entirely normal.

“You interrupted my sleep. Don’t do it again,” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument. Not a hint of concern or apology, just that icy calm.

“I almost lost a finger!” Y/N burst out, her voice trembling with panic as she clutched her shaking hand still in disbelief at the dagger that had grazed her skin.

“I thought you were an intruder,” Wednesday replied, her jaw clenched, her sharp eyes piercing the darkness of the room. Her voice was harsh but showed no remorse.

Y/N stared at her, her eyes wide with shock. “If I had been next to you, you would have hit me!” she whispered, the fear evident in her voice. It was a chilling awareness: despite Wednesday’s dark allure being close to her always meant skirting constant danger.

Wednesday pressed her lips into a thin line, her expression one of frustration hardening her features. Her dark eyes remained fixed on Y/N, but fatigue weighed on her features: slightly swollen eyelids and deep shadows under her eyes were signs of a night that had been anything but peaceful. She ran a hand through her loose hair, a distracted, almost mechanical gesture in an attempt to shake off the weariness that burdened her shoulders.

“If I had really wanted to hit you, I wouldn’t have missed,” she finally said. Her voice was cold but there was a barely noticeable crack, a sign of how exhausted she was.

In that moment, Y/N realized the truth: Wednesday had calculated exactly where she would throw the dagger. It hadn’t been a mistake; it wasn’t a threat that slipped from her grasp. She had aimed to scare her but without causing her harm. The throw had been precise, deliberate, and she had narrowly avoided Y/N’s hand.

Y/N held her breath allowing the awareness to wash over her like a sharp blade. Behind that apparent indifference, behind the cold voice and controlled gestures, there was a particular way of showing concern. A warning, yes, but also a sign that, deep down, Wednesday didn’t truly want to harm her.

She cared about her.

The third time came the night after the chaos.

Y/N lay in bed, still aching from the injuries sustained during the confrontation. Her side was bandaged, a dull pain pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Beside her Wednesday was rigid and silent, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Despite her composed posture, her dark eyes seemed lost staring at the pale moonlight filtering through the window, casting sharp shadows across her face.

Y/N’s mind raced back to that night to how Wednesday had changed for a brief desperate moment. She had seen her cry, silent tears rolling down her face as she tried to stop the blood flowing from Y/N’s wound. The terror in her eyes when a bullet had grazed Y/N’s side. It was a fear Y/N had never seen in her before, a fear that revealed a hidden side of Wednesday—vulnerable, human.

She was terrified of losing her.

Now, however, a deafening silence reigned between them. Enid was not there; she had gone to Yoko for the night leaving the two alone in the room. Wednesday remained still, tense, as if every muscle were under control, as if she were trying to suffocate any emotion that threatened to resurface. But Y/N had come to know her well enough to catch the nuances in her glances.

An uncontrollable urge grew within Y/N, a desire to reach out to that side of Wednesday that had only been revealed for a moment. She was aware of the risk; she knew how much Wednesday hated physical contact, how her body would instinctively pull away. But that night felt different and Y/N clung to that singular possibility. With uncertain breaths, she extended her hand and brushed against Wednesday’s fingers.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

Y/N awaited the immediate withdrawal, the coldness that would creep between them. But Wednesday did not pull away. Y/N’s fingers remained intertwined with hers, the contact fragile yet present and her heart raced at the thought that perhaps, this time, Wednesday was hiding more than she wanted to show.

The moon illuminated Wednesday's face, highlighting her severe features but there was something indecipherable in her dark eyes, a vulnerability that was breaking through the cracks of that impenetrable mask. And then, with a quick and almost furious movement, as if she were fighting against herself Wednesday leaned closer to Y/N.

Her lips brushed against Y/N's, cold yet insistent, a touch that burned with contrast and emotions held back for too long. It was a kiss that had nothing sweet or delicate about it, but was raw and sincere, like an impulse that Wednesday could no longer restrain. Her lips moved with an almost desperate firmness, as if she were trying to hold onto that moment, to capture something that was slipping away from her.

Y/N felt a warmth explode in her stomach, a whirlwind that completely engulfed her. She wanted to respond to that kiss but it was as if her mind had emptied, leaving only the frantic beat of her heart.

When Wednesday pulled away, she did so with a swift gesture, almost in anger, as if she wanted to deny what she had just done. Her expression returned to being impassive, her face rigid but her cheeks were flushed, her jaw clenched as if she were holding back words she could never utter. Her breath was slightly quicker than usual, the only sign that this exchange had not left her entirely indifferent.

Y/N stared at her, wide-eyed and with still burning lips. It had been an unexpected, intense sensation.

In the end, she was dead… but yearning to repeat that kiss.

And in the silence that followed she understood that even Wednesday as much as she might want to hide it, was struggling against that new strange feeling that bound them together.

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