#the addams family x you

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

"She's so beautiful, Mi alma." Wednesday muttered -for the first time ever- awed as he stared down at the little babe cradled safely in your arms. Little Blair Addams was a quiet baby, and there was no doubt she was the daughter of Wednesday, streaks of midnight hair and eyes black as coal. She barely cried when she came out.

"Would you like to hold her?" You asked softly, looking up at your husband, exhaustion bare on your face. Wednesday only nodes as he gently lifted his daughter from your arms, allowing you to give in to the tiredness of childbirth.

"il mio cuore, you only just arrived here and I will kill anyone who hurt you. You and your mother ruined me.." Wednesday whispered, his thumb ran over her cheek as she stared into his eyes. Blair cooed at his words as if she understood and a tiny smile on her little lips.

Life had gave him people he never knew he wanted and he would do anything to protect them. Anything.

Il mio cuore: my heart

Mi alma: my soul

[deadlynavigation]

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

Clingy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[madwomansapologist]

Can you do where reader goes out for the night with some friends and leave morticia and gomez at the house all night?

leaving Gomez and Morticia Addams waiting for you would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Morticia and Gomez Addams | AO3

synopsis: Love burns. Love hurts. Love maim. But the fear of not knowing if someone is safe... Oh, that fear is a bitch.

warnings: none.

ps: I loved that idea! I'm glad you requested it!

• Gomez and Morticia are used to pain. They are used to every single shudder of cells. Hurt them however you wish, and they will thank you gladly. But the oblivion, the indifference, that's not something they like to feel.

• Gomez was the first to worry. You told them you would be back late at night, but it was getting darker and darker, and no sign of you. It was a chill night, a breeze shivered his spine. He told Tish, but she asked him to ease his mind.

• At first, Morticia thought he was exaggerating. Morticia loves your discomfort, but she will never made you feel controlled in a way that diminishes your soul. She wants you next to her, but you have the right to expend time with your friends. But then the clock ticked 3 am.

• You're phone was dead. They called and called and you never answered. Even Thing couldn't stop walking around the street to see if you were near. After another hour, Gomez went out to smoke. They didn't even tried to sleep, both knew it wouldn't happen.

• Lurch announced your presence. He didn't say a thing, but Morticia understood him either way. At the kitchen, they found you completely drunk. You found a chocolate cake and orange juice, and eat it like it was the last thing you could ever enjoy.

• Gomez tried to fight with you, but you gave him such a honest smile that he wans't able to finish his sentence. He went back to smoke. Morticia was able to argue with you, but you were so tipsy none of her words made a difference for you.

• Mad at you, but relivied that nothing bad happened, Morticia helped you get into clean clothes and Gomez laid you down on their shared bed. That discussion can wait until tomorrow. Just like your punishment.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[poisonlove]

Proposal | w.a

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" I ask incredulously to the brunette in front of me.

Wednesday rolls her eyes at my request and merely stares at me with her usual apathetic gaze. We were sort of friends... well, I'm not entirely sure, given that a couple of times she told me she could barely stand me and refrained from taking my life due to my bright and optimistic attitude. Nevertheless, I enjoyed spending time with her.

"You know I hate repeating things," she says, maintaining a neutral tone, "but... I asked if you can pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents," she repeats, batting her lashes. "So, I didn't mishear," I murmur under my breath, and the long-braided girl rolls her eyes at my comment.

Wednesday and I are completely different: she's black, I'm white; night and day; yin and yang. My reaction is entirely justified! How can two people so different be together? Despite these internal questions, a part of me has been waiting for this proposal for a long time. Even though the gothic girl wasn't programmed for relationships, my heart couldn't help but beat faster for her over time. Wednesday remains unsettling, and her tastes are truly unique, but despite everything, talking to her is pleasant, and I adore the way she treats me.

In the end, the little brat cares about me.

"So?" she asks impatiently, and I blink, diverting my attention from my thoughts. "Why? Why do you want to pretend in front of your parents?" I inquire with curiosity, and Wednesday crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me seriously.

Wednesday sighs, lowering her head towards the floor, averting her gaze from mine. "You know I hate the human race, right?" she rhetorically asks, and I nod, attentively watching the gothic girl. "I don't want my family to know that I still feel this hatred. I want them to believe that I have social interactions," she says, almost with shyness in her whisper. "And besides, they already know you," she adds absentmindedly.

Analyzing her words, I smile widely with mischief. "You want your parents to believe that you're like them... Do you care about their opinion!" I say with emotion, approaching Wednesday more. I wrap my arms around her waist, catching the brunette off guard, and hug her tightly against my chest. "Y/n," she warns, her voice lowering dangerously. Seeing that I don't let go of her, Wednesday sighs heavily before tentatively reciprocating the hug, making me triumphantly smile.

"See? You've taken steps forward! You can endure hugs," I say, smiling widely.

Wednesday loosens herself from my arms and sighs heavily. "I can tolerate touching you for a few minutes before my homicidal instinct acts on its own," she says absentmindedly, tightening her grip.

Okay, her arms were around my neck, and I wasn't exactly sure if Wednesday was being serious. I loosen my hold on her body and step back, observing her brown eyes completely unreadable. "Alright," I say smiling slightly and Wednesday lifts the corners of her lips simulating a smile.

"Perfect," she declares, immediately wiping the smile from her face. The gothic girl walks towards her desk and sits in front of her typewriter, leaving me stunned. "Is that all?" I ask incredulously and Wednesday turns her head towards me looking at me seriously. "Yes. Now go, I need to write. See you tomorrow morning at the entrance, don't be late," she says with a neutral tone returning to her writing.

The sound of her fingers pounding on the keyboard fills the room, and I'm left staring at Wednesday Addams. "Stop looking at me, it's irritating," she says, sighing loudly. "Go away," she repeats and I smile unconsciously at her words. In the particular language of the Addams, stop looking at me seems to translate to if you look at me, I get distracted and can't continue writing and i have to talk to you

Exiting Ophelia Hall, I run into Enid returning from her date. "Everything okay with Ajax?" I ask with curiosity and the blonde laughs happily, nodding.

"And you? Has Wednesday already grown tired of you?" she says smiling and I nod my head, my enthusiasm slipping away.

"You know she likes you... she's just slow in these things," Enid encourages me and I smile with sadness. "Yeah..." I say doubtfully and sigh loudly. "I'm going to my dorm, goodnight," I say to Enid, who looks at me with sadness before walking towards her room.

(...)

"Good morning," I say with enthusiasm as I see Wednesday Addams waiting for me at the entrance of Nevermore Academy. The gothic girl looks at me impatiently.

"You're late," Wednesday says, looking at me seriously, arms crossed. "Sorry... Yoko didn't wake me up," I justify, and the brunette shoots me a glare. I unconsciously smile, seeing the tension in Wednesday's shoulders, her coffee-colored eyes brimming with irritation. "The usual silly vampire," she mutters softly, and I glance at the brunette, suppressing a knowing smile at her jealous outburst.

"Y/n!" I turn towards the voice and see the mentioned girl running towards me, holding my hoodie. "Yoko," I smile at the vampire, immediately feeling a piercing gaze behind my back. "You forgot your hoodie; thanks for lending it to me," she says, smiling widely and revealing her fangs.

"Thanks," I take the hoodie, and with the corner of my eye, I see Wednesday continuing to stare at us with irritation.

I walk back towards Wednesday, and she scrutinizes me with her eyes, shining with jealousy. "Did you lend her your hoodie?" she unconsciously asks, and I nod without any issue. "Good," Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks out of the iron gate, leaving me stunned and standing alone.

Every time Wednesday saw me with Yoko, she became impatient and stared at us with irritation, unable to avoid feeling uncomfortable. I knew Wednesday's jealousy was entirely different from romance; the gothic girl had confessed that I'm her only friend, not counting Enid, and Wednesday doesn't like sharing her things.

"Hey!" I chase after Wednesday, and the girl continues to walk with her classic elegant yet serious pace. "Wait," I shout at the gothic girl, and she stops, sighing loudly. "Move," she says irritably, and I roll my eyes at her childish behavior.

The Addams family's car appears before our eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. "So, shall we go in?" Wednesday Addams says, opening the car door and inviting me to get inside the vintage car. Lurch watches us from the central mirror, and his eyes make me uneasy.

Wednesday's hand delicately takes mine, and my eyes shift downwards. My heart races against my chest. The gothic girl's skin is pale and cold to the touch, but it's a pleasant sensation. Wednesday holds my hand in a peculiar way, loosely against mine, with a stiff wrist, as if she doesn't know how to hold hands.

Lurch looks away from the mirror and starts the car. "What are you doing?" I whisper as soon as the partition rises between us, and Wednesday quickly lets go of my hand. "We need to start the plan; play along," she apologizes with an authoritative and cold tone, surprising me.

"Well..." I say hesitantly, looking out of the car window. The landscape outside is shrouded in an eerie atmosphere, with a dense, dark-leafed forest standing against a twilight sky. The air is thick with mystery, and the road winding through the forest seems to lead to unknown places.

The car stops, and I, with a puzzled look, glance around. "We've arrived," announces Wednesday, quickly getting out of the car, and I follow suit.

The Addams' house stands imposingly before us, a Gothic mansion wrapped in an aura of dark elegance. Sharp spires pierce the sky, while intertwined vines give it an even more sinister appearance. The windows are adorned with heavy curtains and stained glass that seems to hide dark secrets within.

A sense of unease envelops the surrounding atmosphere, but at the same time, there's something fascinating in the decadent majesty of the Addams' abode. With uncertain steps, I approach the main door, ready to immerse myself in the enigmatic world of this unique family.

Wednesday rings the doorbell.

The gothic girl firmly grabs my hand again. "Calm down and act like a real girlfriend, or I'll kill you," she whispers in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the imposing door of the Addams' house.

The tension in the air is palpable, and when the door opens slowly, Mr. Addams, a man of imposing figure and mysterious air, appears behind it. His mischievous smile widens upon seeing his daughter Wednesday hand in hand with me.

"Stormcloud!" Gomez opens his arms, expecting a hug from his daughter. However, Wednesday looks at him with confusion, remaining fixed in place, not responding to the expected embrace.

"Darling! Our terror is home!" Gomez Addams exclaims with a playful smile, revealing the family's peculiar sense of humor.

At that moment, the house door opens elegantly, revealing the dark and fascinating figure of Morticia Addams. Her presence is shrouded in an aura of mystery and grace, with her long black hair and the form-fitting dress that emphasizes her sinister elegance.

"Welcome, my treasures," Morticia murmurs, her calm and measured voice adding a touch of seduction to the atmosphere. Her gaze, penetrating and magnetic, traverses the foyer as she observes the two of us with interest. A smile spreads across her lips upon seeing our intertwined hands.

"Our little one brought home a guest," announces Mr. Addams, and Morticia smiles slightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, y/n," she says, addressing me with a slight bow.

I met the Addams family at Nevermore, and it was the first time I saw their house.

"The pleasure is mine," I say with a smile on my lips. A guttural sound echoes behind us, and when I turn, I see Lurch walking strangely towards us, holding my hoodie.

Without saying anything, Wednesday takes the hoodie and wraps it around her waist. "Don't say anything," she whispers, tightening her grip on my hand, and I nervously smile. Lurch takes off his hat and mutters something incomprehensible before entering the house. "Thanks," I say, smiling widely and leaning towards Wednesday.

I had to play the role of a girlfriend, right? So, I had to thank her appropriately. I unconsciously smile as my lips touch her pale cheek. Sensing a strange movement near her, Wednesday turns towards me, looking at me seriously. Instead of a simple thank-you, my lips collide abruptly with hers. I immediately sigh at the contact with her soft lips.

Wednesday stiffens at the touch but shows no sign of rejection. The gothic girl extends her hand, intertwining her fingers around my neck, pulling me closer, our lips firmly attached.

I break the kiss and look at the family with embarrassment, Gomez smiling widely. My heart was pounding wildly, and shivers ran down my body, the ghost of the kiss still present on my lips. The kiss was fantastic, I must admit, and her lips were delightfully cold and plump, exactly as I had imagined them in my dreams.

Wednesday clenches her jaw and breaks the contact between our hands, entering the house. I was about to follow her when a hand gently grabs my arm. Mr. Addams looked at me, smiling but with a strange glint in his eyes. "You know how our family is, right?" he asks in a low voice. "Yes..." I say hesitantly, feeling a strange anxiety creeping in.

"If you dare to harm our little one, I swear I'll cut you into such small pieces that it will be impossible to find you," he threatens menacingly.

I nervously swallow saliva.

"Darling, don't scare our guest," Morticia intervenes with a small smile on her lips. "But the threat is real," she says before turning and walking towards the staircase, her husband following her with admiration.

"Well, I'm screwed," I say nervously, my eyes looking around with confusion, not exactly sure where the heck I should go.

Wednesday's Room

My eyes curiously scanned Wednesday's room: black curtains, a small guillotine, scattered weapons, and a canopy bed. I had the pleasure of meeting her little brother, Pugsley. The Addams boy had embraced Wednesday, begging her to play with him—games like burying him alive, shooting him with a crossbow, or tying him up somewhere.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, a strange silence enveloping us.

"Do you want to talk about the kiss?" I asked timidly, and Wednesday's shoulders tensed as she sat on the canopy bed. Her eyes looked at me with confusion, and with a slight nod of her head, she gestured for me to sit beside her.

I walked over with embarrassment and sat beside her.

"It was an accident," I confessed, feeling fear gradually grow in my body. Wednesday raised her head and looked at me attentively, her cold fingers touching mine.

"Okay," she said simply, her eyes looking at me in a strange way. "But we absolutely have to do it again, now," she said quickly, her eyes watching me closely. "I need to understand something," she added later, her eyes truly expressing curiosity.

I blinked in surprise and leaned towards her, shivering with excitement. Wednesday looked at me attentively and raised her chin, seeing how I was getting dangerously close to her face. I closed my eyes and bridged the gap between our lips, smiling at the moment of the long-awaited kiss. Wednesday melted at the contact and leaned further, her hands gripping my shirt with the urgency to eliminate every inch of distance between our lips. Wednesday sighed against my lips and tilted her head. With my tongue, I tapped her lower lip, shivering with pleasure as I felt the goth opening her mouth, letting me in.

Wednesday's hands tightened on my shirt, and then she pushed me away from her. I blinked incredulously, my eyes seeing her lips swollen from the kiss.

"What did you do to me? I like it," she said with confusion, pure panic in her eyes. "Nothing... maybe... you like me?" I asked rhetorically, and Wednesday turned her head abruptly in my direction.

"I don't feel anything beyond horror, disgust, and annoyance," she apologized, her tone completely irritated and cold. "I don't know, Wed..." I said tiredly as I looked at the goth. "I feel like insects are crawling on my stomach," she added, and I sighed at her words.

I quickly took her chin and kissed her abruptly, Wednesday sighing at the contact. "Do you like it when I kiss you?" I asked with curiosity, my heart beating recklessly. "Yes..." she affirmed coldly.

Wednesday leaned in, and our lips joined again. "And I want to do it again, your lips are delicious... and I want more," she confessed calmly, my cheeks blushing at her words.

"Do you like being with me? Does it bother you if I'm around you?" I asked with curiosity.

"Sometimes," she murmured weakly, her eyes looking at mine with concern.

"If I touch you..." I started, my hand resting on her arm, her muscles tensing at the contact. My fingers slid down her forearm, and Wednesday gradually relaxed, sighing as my fingers intertwined with hers.

"Does it bother you?" I concluded, and Wednesday shook her head.

"Do you like contact in general? Like, if Enid hugs you?" Wednesday raised an eyebrow with confusion and shivered at the thought, her lips curling in disgust.

"No," she confessed and tightened her grip on my hand.

"If I hug Yoko... does it bother you?" I asked, my eyes looking at the goth hopefully.

Wednesday Addams looked at me irritably and nodded.

"So, you're jealous," I said, smiling widely, and Wednesday looked at me with confusion.

"No, jealousy is for relationships," she confessed, and I sighed with frustration.

"All right... I've done the analysis... if you don't want to accept it, it's your problem," I got up from the mattress and walked towards the entrance of her room.

"Y/n," I turned at the sound of her monotonous voice and looked at her expectantly. "Can we keep kissing?" she asked innocently, her eyes looking at me with curiosity. A part of me wanted to refuse because I knew it would be my downfall, and I would suffer a lot, but my heart ardently desired contact with the goth.

"Okay," I said, smiling bitterly, and Wednesday nodded satisfactorily. "Can we do it... slowly? It's hard to assimilate," she continued, and I looked at her with surprise and confusion. "Slowly? Does that mean..." I started incredulously, a smile plastered on my lips.

"I want to discover my feelings with you," she confessed, and her eyes sparkled in a strange way, a dark desire mixing with her brown irises. "You're mine," she concluded, and my heart skipped a beat.

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Enid: Not that I don’t want to spend more time with you guys but my moms coming to pick me up soon so I should probably head back to the dorms and wait for her.

Morticia: Wednesday has told us much about your mother darling and we were very displeased to hear about how she treats you. So we’re going to bring you home with us.

Gomez: *locks the car doors*

Enid: …am I being kidnapped?

Gomez: No, no of course not.

Enid: So I can go?

Morticia: Well—

Gomez: The thing is—

Wednesday: No.

Morticia: It’s only temporary. We’ll bring you back with Wednesday for the new semester.

Wednesday: Thing has already delivered your mother the ransom note.

Gomez: A good fright will be exactly what she needs to appreciate her unique and most lovely daughter.

Enid:

Enid: This might as well happen. Can we get ice cream on the way back to your place?

Morticia: Certainly. Lurch! Take us to a parlour.

[khaotungthanawat]

just a typical morning in the huaibao household [ insp: ★ ]

@asiandramanet creator bingo: free choice

[home-of-renn]

Surprisingly enough, I think Sam and the Addams family would be at odds quite a bit. But Sam wants them to like her, and to some extent, she wants to be like them and fit in with them - which is a very weird first for her. So, she does her best to hold it all in - which is another very weird first. It ends up with her feeling somewhat self-conscious around them. They're more macabre than she is and a hell of a lot more extreme. Sam finds herself not wanting to argue - both for her own sake and Danny's - and for the first time ever, she hesitates over how she expresses her views.

Sam ends up having to reassess how she goes about conveying her beliefs to other people and is forced to take a different approach with the Addamses - one that's less pushy and condescending and actually broaches the topic in a somewhat open-minded manner.

Just imagine the trio getting back from a particularly long stay with the Addams family and the entirety of Amity Park is convinced they've been overshadowed.

Danny's chilled out and still running on the good vibes he picked up from the Addamses and now that inexplicable, foreboding sense of dread that seeps into the room whenever he's present has noticeably reduced.

Tucker, who'd been taken under the gracious wing of Mr Gomez Addams - who just so happened to be the smoothest man Tucker had ever met - had sworn off his creepy attempts at picking up every girl in Casper High. Suddenly he's opening doors in a completely polite and friendly manner, without a single uncalled-for pickup line. He's finally keeping a respectful distance from the girl's changing rooms, and worst of all he managed to make a tasteful joke that actually got a genuine round of laughter from the unsuspecting cheer squad.

Sam had had four separate opportunities to rise up and berate her classmates on various "controversial" topics but chose to remain quiet. And when Paulina had decided to poke the bear and jokingly asked if she was sick, she had replied with a polite, non-sarcastic, measured response that had asserted that she was in perfect health and had gone on to outline her stance in a logical, but firm and almost open-minded series of dot points that she delivered without a single scathing remark about Paulina's recently whitened teeth or 'superficial' personality.

It's safe to say that the entire student body of Casper High had been too afraid to comment on the situation and the Fenton's had been alerted to a code red situation.

[librababe99]

Moths to the Flame

Jason Todd x Female Reader (Addams Family AU)

Tags: Jason Todd, Female Reader, OOC, fluff, Addams Family AU 

Summary: Jason finds his heart captured by you whose haunting beauty and playful spirit ignite a passionate romance that dances delightfully between darkness and desire.

WC: 542 words

A/N: YALL just walk with me for a moment…this past weekend I watched the 1991 Addams family movie and it has become such a comfort movie for me. Like the love Gomez and Morticia have for one another warms my heart! And I couldn’t help but think…what if I wrote an AU with Jason x Reader? This could completely flop but I had to share it 😭🖤

The dim light of the candlelit dinner flickered as Jason leaned back in his chair, an amused grin spread across his face. The opulent dining room was filled with the intoxicating scent of rich, dark food—braised rabbit with black currant sauce, of course. Everything about the evening felt delightfully macabre, from the creaking of the old mansion to the echo of thunder rumbling outside.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched you across the table. You were the embodiment of everything he found enchanting: your long, hair cascaded over your shoulders like a waterfall of night, framing your skin and striking features. Tonight, you wore a deep black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, the lace details giving it a hauntingly beautiful touch.

Jason leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you with unfiltered admiration. "You know, my dear," he began, his voice smooth and low, "every time I see you in that dress, it’s as if the shadows themselves are drawn to your elegance. You could make the Grim Reaper himself hesitate."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "And what, pray tell, would you do if the Grim Reaper came knocking?"

His grin widened, and he leaned even closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Oh, I’d invite him to join us for dinner, of course. But only if you agreed to wear that dress. A fitting companion for our macabre soirée."

You laughed, a sound that danced in the air like a siren's call. It warmed his heart, sending a thrill through him. The way your eyes sparkled with mischief made him feel alive, as if he had stumbled upon a secret no one else could know.

"You're too much, Jason," you replied, shaking your head playfully. "But flattery will get you everywhere."

He feigned a sigh, clutching his chest dramatically. "Ah, but how can I not gush over the woman who makes even the darkness jealous? You are like a night sky full of stars, and I am but a moth, drawn to your light."

You couldn’t help but smile at his theatrics. Jason stood up from his seat, moving around the table with the grace of a dancer. As he reached you, he gently took your hands in his, his gaze intensifying. “Every moment spent with you feels like a dance—dangerous, delightful, and utterly thrilling. I would face any monster, any curse, just to see you smile.”

Your heart raced as you gazed into his deep, stormy eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. “And what if that monster is you?” you teased, unable to resist.

“Then I would be your monster,” he replied with a devilish grin, “if it meant I could keep you by my side forever.”

In that moment, surrounded by the flickering candles and the echoes of thunder outside, you realized you wouldn’t want it any other way. With a playful spark in your eyes, you leaned closer, your foreheads touching, the tension electrifying the air around you.

“Just don’t forget who the real monster is,” you whispered, lips curving into a playful smirk, and in that breath, Jason knew you were exactly where you both belonged: in each other’s darkness.

[pandapetals]

Cara Mia

The whole mansion is celebrating Halloween and you and Logan dress up as Morticia and Gomez Addams.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

"Now that’s a costume," you said with a grin, leaning against the doorframe as Logan stepped out of the bathroom. He looked the part of Gomez Addams, dressed in a sharp pinstripe suit that clung to his broad shoulders, a fake mustache meticulously glued above his upper lip. Of course, there was still something rugged about him, the rough edges peeking through despite the polished attire. Somehow, he managed to look like Gomez Addams who’d just finished chopping wood.

Logan grunted as he tugged at the tight collar of the dress shirt, his brow furrowed in irritation. "Remind me again why I agreed to this. And don’t say it’s for the kids," he grumbled, his voice low and rough. "You know damn well I don’t dress up for anyone."

You glided across the room, your long, black Morticia gown swishing dramatically around your ankles as you came closer. "Oh, I’m sure," you replied, your voice silky and laced with playful sarcasm. "You’re doing it because you love Halloween. Besides," you added, reaching up to smooth the lapel of his jacket, "you make a very handsome Gomez."

He huffed, but his lips twitched up in the faintest hint of a smirk as he took in your costume. "And you," he said, his eyes raking over your elegant black dress, "look like you were born to play Morticia." His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you in closer as he leaned down, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "What’s the line? 'Cara mia?'"

You laughed, lifting your hand to rest lightly on his chest. "That’s right," you replied, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "And I believe Morticia would respond with, 'Mon cher.'"

Logan smirked, his grip on your waist tightening as he dipped his head, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not making it downstairs," he whispered, his voice a low growl.

"Downstairs now, " you scolded, swatting his shoulder playfully. "The kids are waiting, and I’d rather not be responsible for a riot because we kept them from their candy."

He let out a low chuckle, releasing you but letting his hand linger on your waist a moment longer. "Fine, fine. Let’s go entertain the little monsters," he muttered, but there was a glint of warmth in his eyes that said he didn’t really mind at all.

As you descended the stairs together, the sound of excited voices filled the air, and you could see the kids gathered in the mansion’s grand entryway, most of them already bouncing with anticipation. The room had been transformed into a haunted wonderland, complete with cobwebs, flickering fake candles, and eerie decorations hanging from the ceiling.

When you and Logan reached the bottom of the staircase, Jubilee let out a dramatic whistle. "Well, look who finally showed up," she teased, grinning from ear to ear. "I guess Logan’s not too cool for Halloween after all."

Logan rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, standing a little taller as though he were playing up the role. "I ain’t here for the costume," he grunted, though the faint curl of his lips betrayed him. "Just here to make sure you all don’t eat so much candy you get sick."

Rogue laughed, stepping closer with a smirk. "Well, Gomez, " she said, giving his suit a once-over, "I have to say, this is the most put-together I’ve seen you in a long time. You clean up nice."

Logan shot her a look, his brows knitting together as he grumbled, "Watch it, kid."

You slid your arm through his, leaning in with a smile. "Oh, come now, darling," you said in your best Morticia impression, "don’t be modest. Everyone knows you’re the most dashing man in the room."

A few of the older students snickered, and Remy, who was wearing a pirate costume that looked like it had seen better days, chimed in with a grin. "You know, Logan," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you really do have that whole Gomez thing down. You’re all protective and swoonin’ over your 'cara mia.' Next thing you know, you’ll be speakin' French."

Logan grunted, shaking his head. "Not a chance, Cajun. But keep talkin’, and I’ll show you how Gomez handles an unruly houseguest."

You laughed, giving Logan’s arm a gentle squeeze. "Now, now, mon cher, let’s not start any duels tonight," you said, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eye. "We wouldn’t want to frighten the children."

As if on cue, a group of the younger kids came running over, already decked out in costumes ranging from witches to superheroes. "Mr. Howlett, look at my costume!" one of them shouted, holding out his arms to show off his vampire cape.

Logan gave a faint, almost begrudging smile as he looked down at the child. "Not bad, kid," he said, giving the boy a nod. "Got the fangs and everything, huh?"

"Yep!" the boy said proudly, flashing his plastic vampire teeth. "I’m gonna get so much candy!"

"Just don’t go biting anybody," Logan replied dryly, ruffling the kid’s hair as he rushed off to join the other trick-or-treaters.

You watched the exchange with a smile, a warmth spreading through your chest. Even in his gruffness, there was something endearing about the way Logan interacted with the kids; he was always protective and watchful. 

You leaned in close, your voice a low whisper. "I think you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, his lips twitching upward as he slid his hand into yours. "Maybe," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Don’t go tellin’ anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold."

"Your secret’s safe with me," you said, squeezing his hand. "But only if you do the tango with me later."

He chuckled, pulling you closer as the two of you made your way toward the candy station, the sound of laughter and squeals filling the room. "Deal, cara mia, " he whispered in your ear, his voice rough and affectionate.

You and Logan spent the better part of the evening wrangling the kids through the whirlwind of activities. There was pumpkin carving, where half the children ended up with more pumpkin guts on themselves than in the actual pumpkins, and a frantic candy-sorting session that resembled a mini stock exchange, with kids trading chocolates for lollipops and debating the merits of sour candies versus chocolate bars. The grand foyer echoed with the sound of squeals, laughter, and the occasional shriek when someone popped out of the fake cobwebs for a scare.

By the time the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed nine, the sugar-fueled chaos began to show signs of fading, and it was time to herd the little monsters off to bed.

Logan watched as you gently nudged a yawning witch and a sleepy vampire toward the staircase. "I doubt they’ll even sleep," he grumbled, arms crossed as he followed you down the hallway, his rugged features softened just a bit by the evening’s festivities.

"Well, if they don’t, at least it’s the weekend so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning,” you replied with a wink, shooing the last straggler up the stairs.

As the kids finally trudged to their rooms, dragging their candy bags behind them like little zombies, Remy appeared at your side, still dressed in his pirate costume, hat tilted at a jaunty angle. "Well, now that the little devils are out of our hair," he said with a grin, "it’s time for the real fun to start. I didn’t dress up for nothin’." He tipped his hat at you, then at Logan. "Hope you’re ready, chérie, ‘cause I brought out the good whiskey."

"About time," Logan grunted, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Might as well make this night worth the effort."

The moment the kids were safely tucked away, the main floor of the mansion transformed yet again—this time into a proper Halloween party for the adults. The common room was lit with a warm orange glow from jack-o'-lanterns scattered about, and cobwebs hung in the corners while a spooky playlist crackled from an old record player in the corner. A variety of drinks were set up on the bar, along with bowls of snacks and trays of cookies shaped like ghosts and bats.

"Alright, folks," Rogue called out from the center of the room, holding up a shot glass filled with something dark and ominous. "Let’s kick this thing off with a drinking game! Rules are simple—if you get caught in a lie, you drink. If you admit something embarrassing, we drink. And if anyone complains about their costume," she shot a glance at Logan, "they drink twice."

Logan smirked, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bar and pouring himself a glass. "Looks like you’re all gonna get real drunk, then," he said, taking a swig.

"Please," you teased, sidling up next to him and giving him a playful nudge. "I’m pretty sure I could outdrink you in my sleep."

His eyebrow shot up, a spark of challenge lighting in his eyes. "That so?" he drawled, setting his glass down. "Guess we’ll have to see about that, cara mia. "

Remy, already leaning into the spirit of the game, handed out shot glasses to everyone. "Alright, first question," he said with a mischievous grin. "Raise your hand if you’ve ever used your powers to cheat in a game."

Several hands shot up—Bobby, who was dressed as Frankenstein, wiggled his fingers. "I mean, is it really cheating if it’s just a little bit of ice to cool the drinks?" he said with a grin.

Jean, who had come as a flapper girl, laughed and raised her glass. "Guilty," she admitted. "Scott and I may have used telekinesis during Twister once or twice."

You glanced over at Logan, who hadn’t raised his hand but was watching everyone with a hint of amusement. "And what about you, Mr. Howlett?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. "Ever used those heightened senses to win at cards?"

Logan’s lips twitched. "Don’t need to cheat to beat you," he shot back, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "But if I had used 'em, you’d never know."

"Oh, I see how it is," you teased, stepping closer to him. "Big talk from a guy who almost lost to me in poker last week."

"Almost doesn’t count, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning in, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "And if I remember right, you owed me a drink after that."

Remy cleared his throat loudly, cutting through the tension. "Well, well, look at these two," he said with a smirk. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were gonna re-enact that tango scene from Addams Family any minute now."

Rogue let out a laugh, grabbing another drink from the bar. "I’d pay to see that," she said, raising her glass toward you and Logan. "C’mon, Logan, show us your moves."

Logan rolled his eyes but reached for your hand, pulling you closer. "Fine," he grunted, "but don’t say I didn’t warn you."

You grinned, placing your other hand on his shoulder as you let him guide you into an exaggerated, dramatic dip. He held you there for a heartbeat, his face close to yours, a teasing smirk on his lips. "How’s that for a start?" he whispered.

"Not bad," you replied, your voice a playful purr. "But I think we can do better."

The music shifted to a slower, sultrier tune, and Logan pulled you upright, twirling you once before drawing you close again. The room around you faded into laughter and clinking glasses as you let yourselves get lost in the moment, your bodies moving together in time with the music.

As the night wore on, the drinks kept flowing, and the banter grew even more ridiculous. Someone—probably Bobby—had rigged up a costume contest for "Most Ridiculous Outfit," which ended up going to Logan while Hank, who’d put on a fake nose and glasses over his already blue fur, won for "Most Dedicated Effort."

Eventually, Rogue called out for another round of questions. "Alright, last one for the night—who here actually believes in ghosts?"

Several hands shot up, including Jean’s and Bobby’s. Logan remained still, his expression unreadable as he took a sip from his glass.

You nudged him playfully. "C’mon, Logan," you teased. "You’re not afraid of a few ghosts, are you?"

He glanced at you, his eyes steady and serious for just a moment before a grin tugged at his lips. "Darlin'," he said, his voice low and rough, "after all the things I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure a ghost would be the least of my worries."

The room erupted in laughter, and you raised your glass, clinking it against his. "Fair enough, Gomez. If we ever run into one, you’d better protect me."

Logan’s smirk deepened, and he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you in close. "Always," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "But I think you can handle yourself just fine, Morticia. "

Eventually, the party began to wind down. One by one, people drifted off to bed, the laughter and chatter fading into the quiet hum of the mansion. The candles burned low, casting flickering shadows on the walls, and the faint strains of the last song played softly in the background. It was just you and Logan now, standing together in the dimly lit common room, the lingering warmth of the evening settling into a comfortable silence.

You stifled a yawn, your lids heavy with sleepiness as you leaned against Logan for support. "I’d say this Halloween was a success," you murmured, letting your head rest against his shoulder. "The kids had a blast, no one went into a sugar coma… and I think Hank’s costume might’ve actually caused Bobby to laugh to death."

Logan chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that you felt more than heard. "Not bad," he agreed, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. "Though I could’ve done without the 'Most Ridiculous Outfit' contest."

You tilted your head back to look up at him, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. "Come on , you know you secretly enjoyed yourself," you teased, reaching up to brush a stray piece of lint from his jacket lapel. "I even saw you smile a few times."

He scoffed, but the corner of his mouth quirked upward in that way that told you he wasn’t actually denying it. "You must be seein' things," he said, his tone gruff but warm. "Maybe it's the whiskey."

"Or maybe," you replied, your voice softening as you ran your fingers along the edge of his collar, "you’re just getting sentimental in your old age."

Logan’s eyes flicked down to meet yours, his gaze dark and steady. "Careful, darlin'," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low growl that sent a pleasant shiver through you. "You keep teasin' me like that, and I might start thinkin' you actually enjoy my company."

You tilted your chin up, closing the distance between you just enough for your breath to mingle with his. "And if I do?" you whispered, your lips barely brushing his as you spoke.

Before you could blink, his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his mouth met yours in a kiss. It was like the rest of the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in the warmth of each other. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you slid your hands up the front of his suit, fisting the fabric as if you were afraid he might pull away.

Logan didn’t pull away. If anything, he kissed you deeper, his other hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you against him. His lips moved over yours with a hunger.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your forehead resting against his as you struggled to catch your breath. "We should… probably head upstairs," you murmured, a teasing lilt in your voice as you glanced toward the darkened staircase. "Before someone comes down here and catches us."

Logan smirked, the warmth in his gaze tempered by that familiar spark of mischief. "Guess we wouldn’t want to ruin our reputations," he drawled, his hand slipping into yours as he led you toward the stairs. "C’mon, Morticia. Let’s continue this in private."

The two of you made your way upstairs, your footsteps quiet against the wood floor as you stole glances at each other, the anticipation building with every step. When you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn’t resist pulling him aside into one of the quieter hallways, your back pressing against the wall as you tugged him close again.

Logan didn’t waste a second. His hands slid to your hips, lifting you slightly as his mouth found yours once more, this kiss slower, deeper, as if he were savoring every second. You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, your body arching into his as a soft sigh escaped your lips. It wasn’t just the kiss that made your pulse quicken—it was the feeling of being completely wrapped up in him like he was the only thing that mattered right then.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with a mix of affection and desire. "You look damn good in that dress," he murmured, his voice low and rough as his thumb traced along your jawline.

You smiled, your fingers toying with the collar of his suit jacket. "And you don’t look half bad in a suit," you teased. "But I think I like you better without it."

Logan’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of challenge. "Then I guess you’ll have to do somethin’ about that, won’t you?"

Your laugh was soft and breathless as you kissed him again, tugging him toward your bedroom with a playful urgency. 

[temporary-tats]

Well… finally watched Wednesday.

Guess what I’m gonna be fucking insufferable about for the rest of my life?

Surely not the Black Cat x Golden Retriever ship that has burrowed itself into my bones and imbedded itself in my DNA in the past 2 days. Pshhh… nooo….

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Can you do a male wednesday on what it would be like on their wedding day

Wednesday's cold and frozen heart, came to life, beating wildly against his rib cage as his coal eyes took you in. Your wedding gown hugged your figure in a way that had Wednesday itching for the moment he would have you alone and your long veil trailing behind you in a graceful puddle. Everything slowed down once you finally stood in front of him, with a happy but nervous smile as you stared into his eyes through the lace veil. The words of the priest (who you insisted on) Wednesday could hardly hear him, nothing else mattered to him besides you.

The audience cheered, Addams with your family alike as he pushed back your veil and your lips meshed against his. Sealing your fate forevermore

You were now an Addams. And you will be forever.

[deadlynavigation]

Season’s Greetings

Warnings: swearing. reader has straight hair in this one.

Author’s note: yall when i tell you school has been kicking my ass. like i expected a challenge but this is just straight evil. anyways, so so sorry for literally no writing these past three months. i’m going to work on stuff i swear.

(Addams Family Masterlist)

(Full Masterlist)

“Cara mia, it’s barely November.”

No response.

“Amore mio?”

Still nothing.

“Y/n.”

A muffled “here!” comes from the pile of christmas decorations scattered on the floor. Wednesday slowly walks over to where the little voice emerged, taking in the garlands and ornaments that spring from half-opened, dusty boxes. He carefully sidesteps the multiple throw blankets and pillows strewn about, admiring your eye for such things whilst also trying to recall where he hid the matches and gas. Vinyls, unlike the decorations, are placed neatly on the sofa, one already removed from its case and sitting on the record player waiting to be played. Finally, Wednesday reaches the small bump in the mountain of holiday cheer.

Your head pops out. “Need anything, baby?”

Wednesday has to place a hand over his mouth to contain his smile. You do this every year, and it somehow becomes even more endearing to him. “Halloween was yesterday, cara mia.”

“...Ok?” You fail to grasp his point, blinking up at him as innocently as possible.

“We have months to do all of this, Y/n.”

“Time is ticking, baby. We gotta get a head start on this.”

He sighs, dropping onto his knees and accepting his fate. “Then you must need help, if we’re running on such a tight schedule.”

Your eyes dart from the dried flowers you’d been fiddling with to his face, which, although rare, held no signs of deception or teasing. “You’d really help? You’re not just fucking with me?”

Wednesday chuckles, reaching up to brush back a piece of your hair that had fallen loose in the chaos. “Of course, cara mia. It’s important to you, is it not?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Then I shall help.”

Hours later, Wednesday isn’t regretting that promise in the slightest. Or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself. He’s sorted through pounds of decorations, had dozens of arguments over what to trash or keep, and gone back down to the basement at least a dozen times to grab even more boxes. It’s now past midnight, and he can clearly see your eyes drooping.

“Amore mio, perhaps it’s time to put this away for the night,” He murmurs, reaching for the ornament you hold and gently pulling it away. It’s placed right back in its box, set on top of the pile for tomorrow.

You try to conceal a yawn, reaching for the ornament. “But we’re so close, baby. Just a couple more minutes, we could finish.”

“See, normally, I would agree with you,” Wednesday smirks, memories of last night running through his head, “but you’re exhausted, cara mia. What type of partner would I be if I didn’t chase you up to bed right now?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, pushing at his arm with no real intent. He snatches the opportunity, grasping your arm and bringing it up to his lips. Kiss upon kiss is imprinted on your skin as Wednesday moves from your wrist to your shoulder and back down again. He takes his time, holding eye contact with you as he kisses every individual vein of your arm, appreciating each little indent and bump, even burying himself into the warmth of your shoulder once he draws close enough.

“M’still not tired. Your tricks don’t work on me, baby.”

He snorts, face still tucked safely into your shoulder. “Of course not, my love.”

You almost let your eyes flutter shut at his voice, but remembering all the work that must be done, you shoot awake almost instantly. “No, baby, I mean it–we gotta finish this.”

“And we will–tomorrow. Let me take care of you, Y/n. Let yourself rest.”

You stare at the back of his head for a moment, narrowing your eyes as you run through your options. One: stay here, fall asleep on the floor, wake up with a broken back. Two: let Wednesday take you to bed, where you’ll then end up sleeping for at least fourteen hours. Three: refuse through yawning fits and insist that you’re perfectly fine to handle breakable decorations at one in the morning.

Only one of those options will end up working. You’re still in denial about which one it may be.

Wednesday can practically feel the gears turning in your mind and eventually tires of it, rising from your neck and standing. “Come on, amore mio. Time for bed. I will hear no more of it.”

“Okay,” you grumble, because as much as you’d like to stand your ground, you can feel the exhaustion creeping through your body. It becomes much more apparent as you step forward, legs half-asleep and shaking from the hours spent crouching in uncomfortable positions. “Carry me?”

Wednesday looks down at you, shaking his head. “As if I would allow anything else, Y/n.” With that, he scoops you up, adjusting for a second before maneuvering around the scattered decor and into the foyer. You bury your face in his neck, all too eager to be surrounded by warmth after the sunset brought frigid temperatures into your home. Wednesday plants a short kiss on your hairline before climbing the stairs, steadily guiding you both into the master bedroom.

He stops, and you realize it’s an indication that you’ve reached the bed and have to get down. You cling to him, refusing to jump down.

“Cara mia,” Wednesday cooes, pressing another peck onto your head. “How are we supposed to get ready for bed if I’m carrying you the whole time?”

“You’ll figure it out. I have confidence in you.” Your words are barely there, fading with your sleepiness. Your grip on his clothes slackens, and that’s the final straw for your partner. He gently lowers you onto the pillows, quickly spreading a blanket over your form.

“As much as I appreciate your reliance on my strength, I cannot live up to those expectations,” Wednesday laughs, strolling into the adjoined bathroom to quickly brush his teeth and rinse his face. The splashes of water reach your ears, spurring you to blearily rise and join him over the sink.

“M’tired,” you mumble, grabbing your toothbrush. You run it over your teeth for a time most dentists would consider unacceptable, rinsing and flossing afterwards to make up for your rush. Wednesday smiles softly, handing you your cleanser after you’re done.

“You coat your face in chemicals, I’ll worry about your hair.” He leans down, laying a cold kiss on your collarbone before getting to work. The brush glides through your hair as you rinse your cleanser off, reaching for a serum as Wednesday reaches for the soft little elastics you seem to prefer for nighttime. He combs his fingers through your hair, watching in fascination as the color catches the soft copper lights of the lamps in the bedroom. Over and over again, he watches it fall from his fingers and envisions a future where he combs through your graying hair with weathered hands. Yes, he’ll sleep well tonight with that in his mind.

He’s knocked from his train of thought as you plop your moisturizer back onto the counter, finished with your routine and now just waiting on the braids you were promised. Wednesday smiles sheepishly, kissing the back of your head as an apology before getting started. He manipulates the strands with expert fingers, years of practice on his sisters and mother proving useful.

“M’sorry I yelled at you about the mistletoe. You wouldn’t have known where exactly I wanted it, that was my fault.” You lean back into his chest as he works diligently, the motions lulling you to sleep.

“Amore, I would hang the moon and stars for you if you asked. The mistletoe will go exactly where you need it tomorrow.” He holds back a laugh as he recalls the argument, a five-minute long discussion involving door frames, rulers, and a silly little piece of the plant.

“I’m also sorry for the wreaths. I didn’t even know we had that many.”

“It’s ok, Y/n,” Wednesday whispers as he ties off on a braid, moving to the next one without jostling you from where you practically lie on him. “We all have passions. You support mine. These next two months, I will support yours.”

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you too content to break the silence. He finishes the second braid quickly, trying to get you both into bed before you end up in a heap on the bathroom floor.

“There we go, amore. All done, you did so well for me.” Wednesday rubs your arms up and down, trying to rouse you from your almost meditative state.

“Bed?” You whisper, rubbing an eye while trying to stay attached to him.

“Yes, come on.”

“What time is it?”

“Late,” Wednesday whispers back, checking the clock on your nightstand. He’s right–it’s almost 1:30 in the morning, an hour that he isn’t sure qualifies as late or just incredibly, wickedly early.

You fall into bed, rearranging the pillows until you can comfortably lie on them. Once Wednesday climbs in next to you, you forsake them, instead nuzzling right against his chest as he pulls you into him. It’s so warm and familiar that you fall asleep almost immediately, all the caffeine, disagreements, and upcoming holidays forgotten.

Wednesday almost laughs at how quickly you managed to fall asleep, proving him right that the decorations were a matter for another day. He’ll have to rub it in your face tomorrow, but for now, he envelops you with his arms pressed tightly against your back and dreams of many more holiday seasons to come.

[madwomansapologist]

i gotta say, your gomez/morticia/reader work is just soooooooo *chef's kiss* it's honestly some of my favourite poly works because it's so fluffy but so THEM. might i request some headcanons of how the poly relationship starts, with all the angst and yearning that entails? 👀

meeting the Addams

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Gomez and Morticia Addams | AO3

synopsis: Didn't you knew that the best place to find love is in a cemetery? You live under a rock or what?

warnings: if only they loved me back (reader) x why do I love they? (morticia and gomez). read this listening to bad kind of butterflies by Camila Cabello. a lot of jealousy (we all love that lets be real). i want a relationship like this (reader) to i want to be in this relationship (reader).

ps: that ask made me so happy (((: i spend a lot of time on their stories because i want it to feel like their stories made me feel, so thank you for that compliment 🥺🤍

• A storm as strong as that hasn't happened in years. Trees were falling, blocking the streets. That night, as dark as the immense chaos, just keep on shuddering with thunders. And it was so cold. They could feel it on their bones. In short: it was the perfect night.

• Seeing how Morticia was sinking into worries about their children, Gomez couldn't just observe that perfect landscape. Kissing her body, making her melt into his arms, Gomez invited Morticia to a walk in the cemetery.

• What they couldn't expect was to found someone else there. Walking through the lanes, a lighting lit a silhouette among the ash trees. Someone was dancing on a grave.

• They couldn't help but to stare. The delicate movements, full of feelings, hypnotized them. Gomez took Morticia into his arms, trying to start a waltz, but she didn't payed attention. Morticia only had eyes for that person, and without noticing she started walking towards the anonymous dancer.

• Gomez followed her, a hint of jealousy spreading through his body.

Gomez hold Morticia's waist, stroking gently her skin. His eyes were already accustomed to darkness, so Gomez was able to read the name carved on the tomb. "Was he your nemesis?"

Interrupted, you stopped dancing. Morticia was disappointed, she enjoyed watching you. Sliding your hands through your hair, the rain had already drenched you, you walked through them. Your sweet scent didn't go unnoticed. "He was one of my dearest friends."

Gomez felt his heart race at the asnwer. He followed your steps with his eyes until you were far enough to camouflage among the ash trees. That didn't go unnoticed by Morticia's eyes.

• The next time they saw you was a few days later. A old house on the end of the street, empty since way before they bought their home, was finally sold. Some workers were tooking the furniture out of the truck.

• As good neighboors, Morticia and Gomez decided to welcome the new resident. But when they heard a voice commanding where everything should be, they immediately knew who was their new neighboor.

• Nothing weird was said (unless you were a commom person, but for the three of them it was just a normal conversation) but Gomez felt something strange the entire. The way Morticia look at you, the words she used, it just feels so similiar to how she act around him when they first meet. Gomez was polite, but he wasn't comfortable.

• Morticia couldn't understand why Gomez was uncomfortable. She didn't do anything wrong. Of course, now that Morticia knows that he is jealous she won't be around you, thats not the way she like to torture him, but she still couldn't understand. She was behaving as she always do, he was the one acting weird.

• But it wasn't a big city. Of course they would see you anywhere. And they saw how you were treated just like them. You were so lovely, so polite, so beautiful and gentle, and people still look at you and thought you were mean. They know how it feel to have boring people thinking they didn't deserve to be treated with respect.

• Gomez said to Morticia that you were welcome in their house. Morticia knew that if at the start it was so uncomfortable to him that he asked for her to stop talking to you, something really changed. What it was? Did he realized he was being a fool? Did his opinion about you changed? And for what? Why?

• Spending time with you, they saw who you really are. Not short and polite conversations, not hearing you talking to others because you were at the same place, or just observing you from far away. The both of they saw you. Your strong morals, your opinions on important matters (like the dark forces and the hellish cruzade), your humor.

• And then Morticia understood why Gomez was so uncomfortable at the start. He saw something she didn't. You were... Perfect. You love raining days. And dancing. And fighting. And you didn't mask your inteligence. The way you were gentle with people that wouldn't offer you water. See? Even your flaws seeing perfect.

• Morticia understood Gomez, because now she felt the same. You were so sweet. You could be mean, she know that, but nothing comparable to her. And Gomez didn't deserve someone kind? Gomez is his favorite person in the whole world, but what if he deserve more than her? One time, during a ball, she saw you both dancing. And it feels like the world had ended and you both didn't care.

• And even tho Gomez tried to be the bigger person, he couldn't just stop himself from feeling. Everytime you were around Morticia... you both seen made to one another. Morticia is a goddess, a being deserving of the best the world has, and you are perfect. How could he compete with you?

• After a brutal night, a night when Morticia was like a cruel animal, Gomez woke up after her. It wasn't commom for that to happen. Looking for her, Gomez only found Morticia in the greenhouse. And he saw her reaping a different flower. And she didn't cut their heads. It wasn't for him, and he knew for who it was.

• But it wasn't easy for you. They were so... familiar. You didn't knew then for that long of a time and it still feel like you knew them for your entire live. They were so kind, and fun, and charming. What a dream to have a relationship like that.

• But as it goes, you realized that you didn't want a relationship like that. You wanted to be in that relationship. What kinda of person fall in love with a married couple? Morticia would laugh if she knew you thought that. Of, fuck. You need to stop thinking about them.

• But how could you? They were your neighboors, your friends. They made you feel seen. You would never act on this love. They were your friends and you would try to mess with that relationship? You knew what to do: you would pretend to not feel a single thing a friend shouldn't be feeling. Simple.

• But another storm, just as a strong as the last, Interrupted you three. Inside your house when you heard the first thunder, you couldn't help your body from running to the middle of the street to enjoy the rain.

Watching you from a window, Gomez and Morticia didn't mean to say the same thing: "Everything they do remind me of you."

"What?" Morticia was the first to say something. "How could you?"

"I can see your bravery. And your humor, cara mia. Everytime they are gentle, all I can do is think about how you deserve someone like that."

"Oh, Gomez." Morticia caress his chest, hugging him slowly. "I already have someone like that. And he is right in front of me." She waited a second before puting her thoughts into words. "But I think the same."

"Oh, how I wish you were a liar."

"No, mon cher. I think you deserve more than me. I was never a kind person. You deserve someone that only hurt you on the ways that matters."

With a loud laugh, Gomez started kissing her whole body. Morticia laughed, how could she not? She married a crazy mean. What a luck. "And what do you think you are? What do you think you do to me? Since the first time I ever saw you, I knew you would be the reason of my death."

Looking at the window, they both understood what was happening to them. "The last time I meet someone that hurted me so bad... I married him."

And without any more words, they knew what to do. For now, all they needed to do was to dance. In the middle of the night. In the middle of the street. In the middle of the rain.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[poisonlove]

You⁴ | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Part 1 part 2 part 3

Getting used to it had been more difficult than expected.

It had been almost a month since that kiss and the proposal to see where things would go. Since then, everything between Wednesday and y/n had stayed the same, at least on the surface. Neither of them had put a label on what they were, but the brunette had realized that it was okay. She liked spending time with her, and the only real difference from before was the kisses they exchanged in secret within the walls of their respective dorms.

The real problem, Wednesday realized, was that y/n kept receiving numerous declarations of love from others. Because everything they did remained hidden, she couldn’t openly claim y/n in front of everyone at Nevermore. And that was deeply irritating her.

“Mmmh...” y/n mumbled from Wednesday's bed.

Y/n’s y/c eyes stared with annoyance at the back of Wednesday’s head, half-closed, almost as if she was trying to send her thoughts into Wednesday’s mind, hoping she would stop writing and come to bed with her. Wednesday could feel her gaze.

“Stop staring at me,” Wednesday snapped, her eyes glued to the typewriter in front of her.

Lately, y/n had become very clingy, wanting to spend lots of time with her. Despite tolerating her presence, Wednesday needed her space. She loved writing, loved wandering alone, and enjoyed spending some afternoons in the arms of her... y/n. But that was it. Sometimes she found herself spending time with her and Yoko, and that disturbed her.

“Are you coming?” y/n asked in a small voice.

She had had a horrible morning. She lost in fencing to Bianca, got a terrible grade in English literature, and misplaced her favorite headphones. If that wasn’t enough, she arrived late to the cafeteria and couldn’t eat anything.

She wanted to feel Wednesday’s presence; she needed comfort.

“Is it necessary?” Wednesday asked in a cold tone, her fingers diligently typing away. Her eyes were fixed on the sheet of paper, slowly taking shape as her thoughts were put into words, her character's actions drawing her deeper into the story.

“I need you,” y/n murmured in a soft voice. She was fully aware of Wednesday’s distant attitude, but she hoped she could make an exception for her this afternoon.

Wednesday had to stop writing.

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, trying to remain calm. You want to give this a try, she thought to herself, then help her out. Addams slowly turned toward the bedroom and saw y/n looking at her with puppy-dog eyes.

She’s... cute, Wednesday thought, a small smile threatening to escape her lips.

Y/n opened her arms and gave an awkward smile, her cheeks reddening under Wednesday’s piercing gaze. Addams blinked and stood up from her chair, walking with a determined step toward y/n. In a way that felt awkward and mechanical to Wednesday, she complied with y/n’s request, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Thank you,” y/n whispered against her neck.

Wednesday resisted the urge to break the hug, letting herself be overtaken by the emotions that had been chasing her for weeks. The scent of lavender from y/n flooded her senses, making her relax. Addams tightened the embrace, her heart pounding in her chest.

She had grown used to y/n’s affectionate gestures, but part of her still felt as tense as a board. Y/n’s hand moved along her back, noticing how rigid her posture was.

“Are you okay? You’re so stiff,” y/n asked with concern.

Wednesday pulled slightly away from the hug and looked at y/n without blinking. Y/n’s y/c eyes gazed into hers with worry, and Wednesday felt an unmistakable warmth in her cheeks. “I... I need to get used to it,” she stammered.

Wednesday frowned... Since when do I stammer?

Y/n smiled broadly and let out a timid laugh, amused by Wednesday’s reaction. Her hands rested around Addams' waist, giving her a light squeeze. “How about...” y/n began, biting her lower lip, looking thoughtful.

Wednesday’s eyes dropped to her lips.

“We practice a little?” y/n asked in a husky voice. In the weeks they had spent together, y/n always asked for permission before kissing Wednesday. The reason? They weren’t officially a couple, and y/n was terrified of scaring Addams with her emotional intensity.

She was well aware of how clingy she could be.

Wednesday slowly nodded her head, and y/n grinned widely, leaning in toward the goth girl’s face. Y/n’s hands gripped Addams' waist as she gently pressed their lips together. Wednesday sighed and returned the kiss, her cold, full lips melding with y/n’s.

Y/n was careful, keeping her tongue in check.

Wednesday bit y/n’s lower lip and broke the kiss, her dark brown eyes studying the girl next to her with curiosity. Her breath was uneven, and a warmth spread through her chest at the sight of y/n’s tousled appearance. Every time they kissed, a spark ran through her body. Is this what they call love?

“When are we making things official?” y/n suddenly asked, causing Wednesday’s blood to freeze. She had promised herself she would respect Wednesday’s timing, but part of her hoped to be able to call her girlfriend soon. Addams pressed her lips together.

“No,” Wednesday said coldly.

“No what?” y/n asked in confusion.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wednesday said simply, her heart pounding violently in her chest. Coward, Wednesday thought to herself. You’re a coward.

Wednesday was terrified of being seen with y/n. Not because she was ashamed of her, of course not, but because she feared people would think she had softened. She wanted to maintain her character in front of Nevermore, while being herself in y/n’s arms.

Was that too much to ask?

“Fine,” y/n muttered monotonously, getting out of bed. She needed to get out of there. Wednesday blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction from her.

“Fine,” Wednesday replied coldly.

She watched y/n leave the room and immediately felt guilty. She wanted to spend time with her, to be together. But she was too proud to run after her and ask her to stay, so she returned to her writing, hoping her thoughts would focus on something other than y/n.

“Hey Wed, I saw y/n storm out of here completely mad... What happened?” Enid asked curiously as she entered the room. She had run into y/n in the hallway, and she had barely greeted her, too angry to say much. She was sure it was because of Wednesday. She and Yoko were the only ones who knew about their relationship.

“Nothing,” Wednesday responded monotonously, her eyes still fixed on the typewriter. Enid sighed resignedly and lay down on the bed, flipping through a magazine to pass the time.

She’d meet up with Yoko later.

(...)

Wednesday couldn’t write.

She could no longer ignore the unease tightening her chest. Even though her pride urged her to let it go, she knew she had to talk to y/n. Walking down the hallways, she took her phone out of her jacket pocket and dialed her number, but there was no answer. Again, no response.

Leaving the dormitory, she spotted Ajax leaning against a column near the dorms.

“Have you seen y/n?” she asked in her usual cold, detached tone.

Ajax, surprised by the question, raised his eyebrows. “No, I—”

She didn’t even give him time to finish before turning on her heels and walking away, leaving Ajax perplexed, his mouth still open. It wasn’t unusual for Wednesday to act like that, but this time she seemed a little colder than usual.

She walked through the gates of Nevermore with a determined step, her dark eyes scanning her surroundings. As she made her way through the gardens, she noticed the students' gazes on her, quickly looking away as they clearly sensed her foul mood.

A little further ahead, she saw y/n.

Y/n was sitting under a large tree, away from the other students' eyes. A stick was slowly burning between her hands, smoke rising in thin curls, and her eyes were fixed on the wood, focused on controlling the flame’s intensity.

Despite her heart pounding hard, Wednesday kept her usual impassive expression as she approached. The sight of y/n, immersed in her bad mood and that almost hypnotic gesture, struck her. The fire reflected in y/n’s eyes as she continued to deliberately ignore her, too absorbed in her anger or silent torment.

Wednesday stopped a few steps away, the sound of her shoes on the damp ground breaking the silence. “Y/n,” she said firmly, trying to get her attention but not raising her voice too much. She wasn’t used to apologies or pleading, and even now, she wasn’t sure if it was right to ask for forgiveness. However, her presence spoke for her: she was there, and that had to mean something.

Y/n didn’t respond immediately, continuing to watch the flame slowly consuming the stick in her hands.

Y/n didn’t look up right away, still turning the stick between her fingers as the flame slowly moved from one end to the other. The silence between them became palpable, filled with unspoken emotions and unresolved tension.

Wednesday stood still, her gaze fixed on y/n, but with that typical unreadable expression. She wasn’t used to taking the first step, let alone chasing someone, but with y/n, everything felt different, more complex.

“You should be more careful with that fire,” Wednesday finally said, her gaze shifting slightly to the side, almost as if she was trying to control her words. “It could get out of hand.”

Y/n scoffed, stifling a sarcastic smile. "I handle it just fine, thanks," she replied with a sharp tone, finally lifting her gaze to meet Wednesday's. In her eyes, there was a spark of defiance, but also something deeper—a hidden vulnerability that only someone who knew her well could detect.

Wednesday let out a small sigh, lowering her gaze for a moment. She wasn’t good with words, especially when it came to expressing her feelings, but she knew she had to say something. "Come to the dorm," she then proposed, almost nonchalantly, though the tension in her voice betrayed her. "We can... talk."

Y/n remained silent for a moment, weighing the offer. She was angry and wanted to keep her distance, but the truth was she couldn't resist Wednesday. There was something about that coldness, that way of appearing impassive and controlled, that made her cave every time.

"Talk?" y/n repeated with a slight hint of irony, letting the now-charred stick fall to the ground. But deep down, she already knew her answer.

Wednesday, without looking directly at her, gave a slight nod. "Or whatever else you want."

That small glimpse of vulnerability in Wednesday was enough to break y/n's last bit of resistance. Slowly standing up, she tossed the stick aside and approached, arms still crossed in a defensive stance. "Okay," she finally murmured, avoiding her gaze. "Let's go."

As Wednesday and y/n were walking toward the dorm, a girl approached them with a determined stride. Her eyes were fixed on y/n, completely ignoring Wednesday's presence as if she didn't exist.

"Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment?" the girl asked, blocking her path with a confident smile. Wednesday immediately stopped beside y/n, scrutinizing the newcomer with suspicion.

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately," the girl continued, ignoring the tense silence around them. "And I can't hold back anymore. I really like you, y/n. I'd like to go out with you." Her tone was direct, with no hesitation, as if she were sure of y/n's response.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, Wednesday intervened.

"I think you've made a mistake," she said in her icy voice, stepping forward and positioning herself between y/n and the girl. "Y/n is not available."

The girl stared at her, surprised by the interruption. "That's none of your business," she replied provocatively, finally acknowledging Wednesday’s presence. "Y/n can speak for herself."

Wednesday didn’t move, her cold, dark eyes piercing the girl. "She doesn't need to answer you because the answer is already clear. Y/n is my girlfriend," she declared, with a calmness that hid a silent threat.

The girl laughed, incredulous. "Your girlfriend? Really?" she asked, skeptical, glancing at y/n as if seeking confirmation. "I don't believe it."

The smile on her face, however, quickly faded when her eyes met Wednesday's again. Wednesday’s expression was icy, impenetrable, filled with an absolute certainty that made it clear she wasn’t joking. The chill in Wednesday’s gaze seemed to freeze the air around them, making it hard for the girl to find words.

"Try questioning what I said again," Wednesday added, her voice dripping with cold menace, "and I promise it won’t be a pleasant conversation."

The girl swallowed, visibly uncomfortable. Without another word, she turned and walked away quickly, her confidence evaporating in the face of Wednesday’s intensity.

Once the girl was finally out of sight, Wednesday turned to y/n, saying nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Y/n looked at her, still a bit surprised by the whole situation but with a small smile on her lips, appreciating how Wednesday had handled it.

"So... it's official?"

It was a question that touched on something delicate, something she had never had to confront before. Y/n’s words made her feel slightly out of her comfort zone.

"If official means I don’t tolerate anyone else hanging around you... yes, it’s official," she replied with her usual icy calm, though the tension in her eyes betrayed her effort to stay in control.

Y/n chuckled softly, surprised by Wednesday’s straightforward answer. "That’s not exactly what I meant," she said, stopping so that Wednesday would also turn toward her.

For a moment, their eyes met. Wednesday felt her heart beating faster than usual, but she would never allow her emotions to show too much. Yet, she knew she had to face this situation because losing y/n was not an option she could consider.

Yes," she finally said, her tone softer, though still restrained. "It’s official. You’re mine, and I’m yours."

As difficult as it was to admit it, Wednesday knew it was the truth. Acknowledging that reality was hard, but losing you would have been even harder.

[brenshor]

Wednesday: With adequate vacuuming systems, the human body can be devoid of blood in 8.6 seconds.

Enid: Oh, cool?

Wednesday scuffing her foot: Y-you could do it quicker. It's - it's good.

Enid blushing: Thank you Wednesday

[imagination-phantom]

Day 25! That Gomez and Morticia love~

“ When we are together, darling every night is Halloween~” then he blows a raspberry on your neck because Stan can’t take anything seriously for more than point five seconds xD

@nyx-universe thank you so much for the ask! I had so much fun with this!

I’m new to making gifs/animations be nice! lol