#wednesday addams icon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i984 · 2 years ago

Text

I MISSED YOU TOO DARLING! and I am quite content with how this one turned out. Thank you for reading! 🥺💘

Wounds, Not Dreams

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: Soft ooc! Wednesday Addams as usual, Hurt/Comfort(?), crying but it's okay cause crying is good, mentions of gore and death, let me know if there's more.

|Summary|: Wednesday doesn't like bad nightmares.

|A/n|: Requested by Sam! See end of post for more notes.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The night feels cold and lonely—much like the fingers trembling and gripping your shirt to the point of ripping. You wake up in the middle of the night with alarms blaring in your head, as only one person would sneak to your dorm in the middle of the night, and she wouldn't tremble.

"Wednesday?"

The girl in question didn't respond. Instead, she presses her face closer to your chest, clinging to you tightly. The fabric of your shirt may muffle her sniffles, but you know your girlfriend has been crying and is currently trying to hide the fact that she still is.

You carefully wrap your arms around the Addams girl. She didn't refuse your touch.

"What's wrong? You know you can talk to me."

Your question is left unanswered again, but that doesn't discourage you. You know how Wednesday is; intelligent, forbidding, and sadistic. But she is also solemn and emotionally reserved. She's a strong human capable of expressing her thoughts, and if any of her past actions are any indication, she's never afraid to do so.

But sometimes, Wednesday is also fragile. She's continuously guarding how she presents herself to the world—not wanting to appear vulnerable. But here she is, grasping at you urgently, almost like she's afraid of letting you go.

So, you hold her. You cradle her tight—Wednesday doesn't like soft hugs; she refers to it as a worthless attempt at strangling someone—and the girl melts into you more.

Wednesday likes warm hugs.

You whisper sweet nothings to her—simple I love you's, and I'm here muttered into the room. The trashing beats of her heart slow into a calm rhythmical one; your now damp t-shirt still muffles her quiet sniffles.

Both of you stay like that in the uncountable moments, you calming her as best as you can with the occasional forehead kisses and Wednesday breathing more evenly with each one you give.

The space is filled with something resembling silence—the whir of your air conditioning and the occasional cricket noises are the only sound heard. Neither of you says a word because they're irrelevant. You know what Wednesday needs.

She needs you.

They say silence is gold, and maybe that's true for now. The girl finally lifts her head, eyes trained at the hands bunching up your shirt. You take them in yours and caress her knuckles gently. The fingers feel warm.

"I had a nightmare," the ravenette says. "A bad one."

Wednesday stares at you through her bangs. Her eyes are swollen, and her lips quiver so subtly that nobody would notice, but you do down to the faint furrow of her eyebrows and her jaw clenching slightly.

You nod, signaling you're listening and ready for her to continue.

"I went looking for you after the battle with Crackstone because you were nowhere to be found. And then, I got to your room. When I opened the door, I saw you on this bed."

Wednesday stops and squeezes your hand. She takes a deep breath.

"There was blood everywhere— The floor, wall, and sheets. I immediately ran and saw you gasping for air. There was a cavity in your chest— Your rib cage is drilled, and the lungs p-popped out of with every single breath—"

Her sobs cut through her words before she could even finish her sentence. You hurriedly wrap your arms around Wednesday, her wails once again muffled into your t-shirt. Stroking her head gently, you sit up to hold her properly, comforting her as she wills her stutters away.

"I thought I was too l-l-late. The ripped bedding and the claw marks on your body made me furious. And then you stopped gasping, and I thought I lost you—"

You pepper sloppy kisses on her cheeks, nose, and jaw, anywhere you can reach to hush her words. "I will always be here for you, Wednesday," you assured. Her cries pierce the warm air, so you rock her body with you while hugging her as tightly as possible.

"It looked so real..."

You don't need her to continue; you know why she's so afraid. Wednesday has seen people die in her visions way too many times. She fears your death even though the event would've happened in the past. What she saw was just a dream, and the girl obviously knows.

But right now, she doesn't need a reality check. She needs to know you're well and alive, even if it means breaking down her well-built walls and presenting herself to you as vulnerable as is. You're going to do just that.

"I'll always be here for you, Wens. Now and forever, in this life and the next. Do you know why?"

Her crying ceases a little, and a tear rolls down her cheeks as her glassy eyes blink to look at your tender ones.

You smile. "Because I'll always be yours as you're mine," you place your hand on her cheek and wipes the tears away. "Because I love you."

Her face starts to warm up.

Yours has been since the very first day you met her.

Maybe the salt on her lips was from the tears. Her small hand grips yours while the other rest on your chest. Wednesday feels so delicate, like the flowers on your window sill, and you want to protect her with every touch of your lips. Her nose nudges yours, and if you open your eyes, you'll see her lush eyelashes gleaming in the stray moonlight.

You pray with every kiss a single thing: to be the wound that nestles into her flesh and soul, stubbornly refusing to heal. Because then, you'll stay intertwined with her until the very end, allowing her to remember what it feels like to be loved.

To be Wednesday's very own pleasant, warm wound.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/n2: Hello! I've been MIA for the past week or so, and for that I apologize. I do have news though, gonna take a break this month so in the meantime, do feel free to revisit old posts :( I'll make a follow up post regarding the situation but right now I just wanna thank you guys for the overwhelming amount of love and support. I can't be grateful enough 💗

829 notes · View notes

wol-fica · 7 days ago

Text

-Bliss PT 11-

summary - reader would do anything, anything, to protect wednesday…

warnings - punching, blood, nose broken, SAPPY

an - missed wednesday and r, (mostly wednesday), so i thought id get back into bliss before season 2 comes !!

—————————

It was a beautiful Monday afternoon in New Jersey, golden rays of sunlight bathing the mansion floor in a beautiful blanket of bronze. The windows were open to the outside world, a warm breeze flowing through the house and invading the walls with the scent of pine and apple pie.

You were in the kitchen, humming along to one of your favorite songs while you stirred ingredients together to make a sugar glaze. Your pie was in the oven, almost ready to be taken out and admired for how damn talented you were at baking, but it needed a few more minutes to reach perfection. It’s crust was a delicious looking light brown, dusted with a bit of salt for flavor, that covered the mouth watering apple filling that was crafted from your great grandmothers secret recipe.

Your cooking and baking skills were a great blessing, especially since your wife has a bit of a sour tooth when it comes to entrees. You always made sure to craft each dish to the exact perfect condition of what she was craving in that moment, and every time, without fail, she would praise you in her gothic ways about how delicious each meal was.

Speaking of your wife, she was currently typing away on her typewriter in the office, working on a new book series since finishing her last collection. Becoming such a well respected writer had boosted her confidence a lot, which in turn helped open more doors to new plot lines and perspectives of storytelling and imagery for her to explore. You had been her biggest supporter throughout her journey and definitely earned the title of “#1 Wednesday Addams Fan” after showing up to every conference and book signing wearing her face on your shirt.

She scolded you for it every single time.

“Doing okay, babe?” You called out, whisking the icing gently.

The ‘tap tap tap’ of the typewriter abruptly stopped, and the sound of footsteps ranges out softly in the house as your partner approached the kitchen. You turned your head just in time to see her round the corner, your breath catching in the back of your throat from the sight of her.

Wednesday Addams was a glorious view, and just so easy to look at for you even after all these years. Her skin was supple and pale, almost ghostly white from lack of melanin in her cells. Her eyes, black as ever, were filled with a sense of warmth that to others, would be discomforting; to you, it was home. She was dressed in a knee-length black skirt that held her checkered sweater tucked in at her waist, with a thin silver chain hanging loosely from the front of her hip to the back. She had white, shin-length socks on that hugged her calves in such a way that it was almost hypnotic to stare at her. Her hair was in her usual duel braids paired with her beautiful bangs that you loved oh so much, and she wore an expression of admiration on her face when she spotted you.

“Hey you.” You said, setting your whisk down to fully turn to her, “Finished the third chapter yet?”

“Not yet.” Wednesday replied, stepping into your personal space and tilting her face up to you, “I am stuck in the torturous prison of what the people call ‘writers block’.”

You chuckled, taking her chin in your hand and leaning down to kiss her. She stood up on her toes to meet you, her hands resting on your hips while you cupped her jaw. She tasted divine, her lipgloss flavor consisting of black cherries and dark chocolate with a hint of eucalyptus to complement the sweetness.

“Hi.” You murmured to her after pulling away, staring into her dark eyes.

“Hello.” She whispered back, her hands slithering around your waist, “I missed you.”

“We live together.” You teased, smiling when she undid the tie of your apron.

“You have been baking all morning.”

“Could’ve joined me.”

“And suffer with the nauseating effect of home life and domestication? I’d rather be nailed to a post.”

You giggled, moving around her to hang your apron on the pantry door hook before coming back over to the oven to peak at your pie. It seemed to be done, so you grabbed your black mittens and carefully took the hot dish out and placed it on the stove. The aroma of apple hit you like a warm pillow to the face, and you felt your whole body physically relax from the touching smell.

“I hope to get a slice later.” Wednesday said, sliding her hand into yours once you took the mittens off, “It looks divine.”

“I thought Wednesday Addams didn’t like sweet things?” You asked, scrunching your nose at her.

“I like you, isn’t that enough proof?”

You hummed, pressing your lips to her forehead as a loving gesture. The radio sounded light static before Foolish Girl by Marjorie filled the room. Your unoccupied hand slide to rest on your wife’s waist, gently beginning to sway to the music with her. She let her head rest against your chest, her eyes falling shut at the sound of your heartbeat.

“Twenty-five years old and you still dance like you’re fifteen.” You mumbled, smoothing the wrinkles out of her sweater.

“I need to perfect my skills, I just haven’t had the time.” She replied softly, burying her nose into your hoodie, “Fifteen year old me would be devastated.”

“No.” You said, lifting her head and reaching to cup her face, “She would be so proud to see what you have achieved; you’re incredible, baby”

Wednesday blushed, shamelessly letting her eyes run over your features with pure admiration. You both stayed like that for a while, content in swaying in each other’s embrace whilst occasionally sharing little kisses here and there. The moment was perfect, until a sharp knock at the front door startled you.

“Who could that be?” You wondered aloud, knowing you weren’t expecting anyone today.

“A spokesperson maybe.” Wednesday grumbled, turning and heading towards the front door, “I’ll tell them to leave.”

“It’s not like we get solicitors.” You said, knowing it’s a pretty long walk from the road to your front door, “Be nice, please!”

She waved you off, rounding the corner out of sight but not of earshot. You heard the front door open, and a male voice respond to your wife’s question of his presence.

“I’m here for you, actually.” The person said, his words slightly slurred.

“Sorry, not available, please leave.”

“Seem pretty available to me; pretty cute too.”

“Use the word ‘cute’ to describe me again and i’ll remove your finger nails with my pliers.”

“No need to get attitude with me, gorgeous. How about I come inside and we chat a little?”

You tensed up, dropping the plate you were drying onto the counter and briskly walking to the front door. There was a tall man in the entrance, holding the door open with his hand so Wednesday couldn’t shut it on him. He was scruffier looking, his greasy hair long and his wiry beard unkept on his bumpy skin. He had a smirk on his face that was unsettling and gross looking, like something that came out of a shitty thriller from the 60’s or something of the sort.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man drawled out, seeming to size you up when you approached.

“Her wife.” You deadpanned, standing to slightly in front of Wednesday to block him from entering your home, “And I’m pretty sure she asked you to leave.”

He laughed, his breath reeking of scotch and beer when it hit your nose. You recoiled slightly, mistakingly taking a step back in disgust. The man saw that as an opportunity to strike, and shot his hand out to grab Wednesdays arm.

It felt like everything happened in a millisecond; one minute you were pinching your nose to block the smell, the next you were swinging your fist into his face, his nose breaking with a satisfying ‘crack’. He fell backwards onto your concrete front porch, his hand immediately covering his injury. You breathed heavily, your chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not many things angered you, but if someone ever put their hands on Wednesday, you would see red.

Call it your wifey instinct.

“OW! What the fuck?!” He screamed, cradling his face, “Son of a bitch!”

“Never, ever, touch her again.” You growled, squaring your shoulders to make yourself appear bigger, “Now get the hell off of my property before I call the cops.”

With that you slammed the door once he retreated down your steps and to the street, locking the deadbolt with a grunt of annoyance. Blood coated your knuckles from the impact of the man’s nose breaking, but you could honestly care less as your focus was on the women standing in front of you.

“Are you okay?” You asked, reaching for her arm to make sure she wasn’t scratched or bruised.

“I am fine.” Wednesday reassured, a glint of love in her eyes as she stared at you, “That was the most attractive thing I have ever seen.”

“Wednesday, I just punched a man in the face.”

“And it was divine.” She replied, biting her lip in a teasing way, “The way you spoke to him; impressive.”

You sighed with a smile, wrapping your arms around her and kissing her softly. She responded with leaning into you, titling her head to the side to welcome you in as much as she could.

“I’m glad to have you.” You whispered against her lips, “Truly.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She whispered back, tugging you forwards with her as she walked backwards.

“The pie is still on the stove.” You reminded her as she began to run her hands down your chest, “Didn’t you want a slice?”

She pulled back from your embrace, nodding in the direction of your shared bedroom. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, a small smirk coming to her face.

“I can think of something sweeter to eat.”

—————————

🫦

taglist: @cartierdreamx @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess0 @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn

135 notes · View notes