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wol-fica · 6 months

Text

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤- ℙ𝕋𝟙𝟘

pairings - wednesdayaddams x fem!reader

summary - sharing a lovely night together :)

warnings - face melting, fluff

an - missed these two, and i missed writing :D

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It was a hot day, the sun blaring so aggressively in New Jersey that even the concrete wanted to melt your shoes if you were to step outside. Inside a large mansion that overlooked a cliff in the woods, two people were curled up together watching a horror movie in their living room.

You hummed softly, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of your wife’s shirt. Her scent filled your nose, making you smile in contentment of being able to hold her so close to you. You both are laid on the couch, Wednesday sort of leaning up against the arm while she let you bury yourself into her stomach.

Your arms were hooked under her back, giving yourself something to hold while her legs were crossed over your back, her heels slightly digging into your lower back. Her fingers were threaded into your hair, nails absentmindedly scratching at your scalp while her focus was on the gorey film in front of her.

“Mmmph.” You huffed, turning your face into her stomach when you saw a murder scene show up.

“Pitiful, it’s just blood.” Wednesday murmured, still massaging your head, “You need to build up your tolerance.”

“I’m not a fan of seeing someone getting their face blown off.” You replied, voice muffled by her shirt, “It’s not my favorite pastime.”

“Technically it’s getting sawed off.” She teased, squeezing your sides with her thighs, “There are no explosives.”

“Sawed, blown, whatever. It’s still a face getting removed and I ain’t all for that.” You said, blowing hot air on her stomach, “I like my face on my….face I guess.”

She was silent, choosing to look down at you with a head tilt. She pondered for a moment, then nodded and turned back to the tv.

“I suppose that is reasonable.”

You chuckled, lifting your head to look up. Her side profile was beautiful to you, her sharp jaw and freckle-tanned skin causing your heart to swoon.

“I prefer romance films.” You said, staring at her with a love struck smile.

She cringed, her nose scrunching cutely and her eyes filling with disgust, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not Nes?” You asked, moving up until you were resting on her chest, “If I can respect horror, you can respect romance.”

“I don’t appreciate all of the extensive kissing and cuddling they put into those films, it’s mortifying.” Wednesday grumbled, letting her arms hang around your shoulders, “I don’t like seeing it, or hearing it, or any of it.”

You hummed with a nod, pushing yourself up on your hands so you hovered over her. She turned to look up at you, her black eyes meeting yours immediately. You giggled at her bored look, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You say you don’t like the cheesy stuff, yet here we are.” You murmured, looking at her lovingly, “Being all cheesy.”

“You are the exception, you’re my spouse.”

“So it’s just because we’re married? Not cause you love me or anything.” You teased, smirking at her annoyed state.

“Since you are my spouse, and I went through the horrendous process of marriage,” Wednesday started, fixing the neck of your shirt, “Then I would think that shows my affection for you.”

“Ehhhh…” You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m not feeling the affection.”

A scream from the movie caught Wednesday’s attention, her eyes snapping to the screen for a second. You rubbed your thumb on her side, trying to gain her focus back to what you wanted. She sighed, rolling her eyes before reaching up and pulling you down into a deep kiss.

“Mmm.” You said against her lips, slightly surprised from the force she produced, before gasping when she pulled you down to fully lay on her.

Her legs went around you, locking you in place while you both made out. Her lips made your body feel like it was on fire, her touch doing just the same. Her tongue prodded at your mouth, silently asking for permission to enter you. You complied, parting your lips to let her warm muscle explore your mouth. She eventually parted from you, toon soon for your liking, and gave you an unimpressed look.

“Is that enough to show you my affection?” She asked, fixing your ruffled hair.

You licked your lips, seeming to think for a moment before leaning in to kiss her nose.

“I dunno, I think you need to do a few more times to convince me.” You whispered, staring into her glossy-black eyes.

“Insufferable.” Wednesday breathed before pulling you back in.

So much for the horror movie.

—————————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

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danzaloreley · 1 year

Text

Indée Fixe

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x harpy!Reader

Summary: A moment to shut down Xavier’s ass. And a moment to calm down Wednesday.

Jealousy is not a word for Wednesday or Y/N. There was an undeniable trust between them that others were a bit envious of. No matter how many flirted neither would bother with said person. Many found it unfair that the goth could so easily reach out and caress the feathers that shone with the ray of sunlight. As if they ever had a right to.

Wednesday subconsciously traced the inside of the wing while they read on one of the benches of the quad. Her back as always straight maintaining her posture as the harpy was fully facing her. Head on the dark girl’s shoulder as a soft rumble of different chitters and purrs emanated from her chest. The hand stopped suddenly and she held it forward with a black feather between her fingers.

“It was already loose, don’t worry.” the harpy said as she saw Wednesday inspecting. A smile growing as she saw the girl hold it to her lips.

“Would you mind if I turned it into my quill, cara mia?”

“Not at all.”

Their quiet time interrupted by one tall boy, Thorpe. He stood infront of them and cleared his throat. “We gotta work on the project.”

Both sent a sneer his way, Wednesday and him had been paired for an assignment it was true. That didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying for them. Xavier had been grinding on Y/N’s gears, finding a way to always show up and interrupt time with her girlfriend.

While spending time with him wasn’t what the girl wanted she was always responsible to make sure to finish her work. They had gone to do their work, but not before you made a display of kissing her full lips. Just to rub it in, it was always fun.

“You definitely spend a lot of time with Y/N.” Wednesday had suffered through the ours of their assignment did he really need to keep conversation after. “It should be expected. Even before she became my lover we spent quite some time together.”

“Didn’t think you would be a sappy kind of person when dating.” His voice had a bit annoyance dripping off. “Not a subject I have to discuss. What I do or don’t is none of anyone’s concern.” Her jaw tightened, he had been throwing little comments here and there since the Rave’N.

“Just saying. You don’t seem to have time for your friends.” he pressed. “On the contrary, my schedule has not been derailed. I still have time to be dragged to Enid’s persistent outings, as well as meetings with Eugene.”

“Even then Y/N joins a lot on those. What—”Wednesday turned with a glare, patience running very low. “She has joined from the moment we met. If you’re trying to say something just get on with it as I am tired of you’re incessant whining.”

“You met her some months ago and for whatever reason you became obsessed with her. You had no time to hang out or even talk. I mean shit even when we went together to the dance you paid attention to her. And then suddenly you’re dating, you trusted her so quick, did you learn nothing from getting with Tyler.”

There was a moment of silence as the raven haired girl contemplated many violent scenarios in her mind. Her gaze fierce as she stepped forward. “From the very beginning I had been quite clear that going to the dance was repayment for last year nothing more. I have plenty of time for my friends, just not to coddle your feelings. Perhaps if you weren’t blinded by your unwarranted jealousy and skewed idea of how I should be you’d actually be more bearable to be near by. She has never demanded my attetion, I’ve given it freely.”

The only thing I will give you is that you are right, in that the boys who pursued me last year were quite a disappointment.”

The loud knock that reverberated on your door scared the hell out of you. Concentrated on meticulously expanding the wing of the ulysses butterfly accidentally tearing from it’s thorax. “Shit.”

Opening the door in came a furious Wednesday Addams. She walked right in without saying a word and just stood there fuming. Closing the door you stayed there. Neither of you moved or said anything. It was best not to push her when she was like this, letting her process her anger.

“Xavier seems to have issues with our relationship.” If you rolled your eyes any harder you might see your own damn brain. “Of course he does. Me telling him to have some dignity didn’t work. Probably cause there’s none left.”

You could tell she wanted to go and wreak havoc. The petty arguments were getting old and fast. Walking towards her you offered your hand out and she took it gently, even if she was feeling far from gentle. You guided her hand to your lips kissing each knuckle and her fingetips. She got closer to you, her body flush to yours. It wasn’t a hug, she didn’t want to feel caged but still wanted to be pressed up against you.

“I have some bugs that I was working on. Do you want to pin or tear the ones that are disposable?” She definitely felt like poking holes in something and she curtly nodded against you.

You sat down on the chair in your work station and guided her to your lap. She immediately started pinning the butterfly through the thorax, pin after pin riddling it. Her shoulders slowly becoming less tense as she abused the poor carcass and your soft lips hovered over her neck and thumbs rubbed small circles on her waist.

“Set a boundary, mi vida. If Xavier pestering you drives you to anger every time, it’s better to not interact with him for a while. Tell him that if he can’t behave maturely that you’ll cut him off. Like a tumor, a benign one people can live with. But if it becomes malignant then it’s time to go.”

Wednesday kept on putting pin after pin while she thought over your words. A reasonable ending to the conflict, sure. Not what she had in mind, she did not feel like being reasonable. “I was thinking of burning his shed. With him in it.”

You laughed and squeezed her. “Yeah, that is gonna put you behind bars. I prefer you here.”

The dark haired girl’s lips quirked. She definitely preferred to be here with you. But she was certain together you could remove any trace of evidence.

She’ll hold off only to try your idea first.

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #wednesday series #wednesday adams #wednesday fanfic #wednesday (2022)#wednesday addams #wednesday fic #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #xavier thorpe x wednesday addams #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe

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fleetingvow · 1 year

Note

Hello, I really loved your writing for Wednesday and was wondering if I could request something.

Reader was hurt badly on the final fight and Wednesday gets worried about her, gets emotional just as she did with Thing. She doesn't leave reader's side until she wakes up and when she does she can't help but hold her because she thought that was it for a moment, and maybe confesses her feelings? You can elaborate it as much as you'd like, I'd just like for that to be the general idea, love some hurt/comfort.

Much love. <3

‘ DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS .

Wednesday Addams x Female Reader.

SYNOPSIS. wednesday addams never cried for anyone, not until she held you fighting for your life, desperately trying to stay alive to return the whispered confession. ( 4.15k words )

NAVIGATION. part one - part two. masterlist.

WARNINGS. major angst. character death ( reader’s ). unproofread. english not being the author’s first language.

NOTE. written in second person’s point of view. another love by tom odell being the angsty essential to produce this fic.

REQUESTED BY. anonymous. thank you for your lovely words, and for trusting my writing to create a perfectly stomach churning plot! do enjoy this work.

LISTEN TO WHILE READING. optional. another love by tom odell.

TAGS. @ryver19 @danysflames

𝗜𝗙 𝗪𝗘𝗗𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗗𝗔𝗬 wasn’t worried about braving the ancient face of Crackstone before, she definitely was now. Not because she was scared of him. It’s because you were the most idiotic person she knew. What were you doing in a battle that you shouldn’t be in? Were you even aware of what you were getting yourself into? She wanted to know what was going through your mind when you marched in the courtyard without a weapon or anything to protect yourself with. Just a glare that wouldn’t do anything.

The fire burning so fierce dancing with the breeze turned slow. Everything seemed too leisure for her liking when she spotted you standing there. It was as if the world had stopped spinning, but it couldn’t possibly now, could it? Xavier was mad enough to try and help, and now you? What were you going to do? Why were you even here?

You weren’t glaring at the pilgrim. You were glaring at her. The blade that was in her possession had shattered and her attention was turned to you. That was the last thing you needed. You hated Wednesday for being the centre of everything because you knew it meant sacrificing so much, even herself.

She used to love seeing you angry and defeated, but not like this. Not this way when you were getting defeated by the monster that stood before her and not her. Not when your hair moved with the wind so slowly as she met your gaze while watching the fire burn in your eyes in the middle of danger. She felt weaker.

You were a vulnerability. A phenomenon in which she, herself, couldn’t even explain.

Paying attention to the movement in your peripheral view, your eyes darted to the figure, slowly coming to the revelation that it was Bianca, in all her grace, standing not so far away from the distracted pilgrim.

You heard a victorious crackle emit from the old man’s mouth, and that’s when you knew. You quickly turned to Wednesday who was trying her best to suppress her noises of struggle. It just made you angrier. Your heart skipped faster in your chest as your mind ran circles in your head, putting it all into shambles that made it difficult for you to think. This anger had neer been felt by you before. It was suffocating, restricting, and it tightened your chest to the point that you almost gasped for air. That’s when you recalled what you came there for.

To help Wednesday put Crackstone back to where he belongs.

You shut your eyes and found yourself a moment before opening them again. When the young Addams thought you had nothing as a weapon, she was wrong. Locking eyes with the siren, you nodded and lifted a hand to reveal the lustrous object from your back. Using your ability, you passed the dagger to the girl who took the blade, understanding the task that she now shouldered.

However, that didn’t provide you much comfort. Wednesday was looking at death straight in the face and your trembling body didn’t stop to just stand around and watch. Your feet dragged you hastily a few feet away from Bianca.

This caught Crackstone’s attention as he slowly turned his head to you, grinning like he faced the Devil in front of him and made a sacrifice for a deal. You couldn’t even describe the disgust and fear you felt as you saw his face fresh from the dead.

“Those who intrude shall join the abomination in the depths of hell!”

You stared at him, narrowing your eyes as you swallowed your spit cautiously to watch his every little move that could be used against you.

What were you doing? You looked stupid! Wednesday’s furrowed eyebrows already said it all. Her heart pounding in her chest almost ripped her open when she saw Crackstone raising the sceptre in his hand, about to conjure such a damage on you. She hated that she couldn’t do anything but look at you, mentally telling you not to do what it is that you’re going to do and run to safety.

You lifted your arm slightly and tried your best to pull the sceptre away, but all it did was drain your energy and create a tension that you couldn’t even control, yourself. You were pulling his source of power, but it seemed as though your telekinetic ability wasn’t enough to do anything. Crackstone was far more powerful. You didn’t stand a chance.

You raised your other hand and conjured an object to hit him in an attempt to distract his attention from the focus he had on his sceptre. He didn’t budge and destroyed it to pieces.

“Enough!” He shouted and with a move of the mace, you were thrown across the courtyard, your back hitting the stone pillars causing you to descend to the ground with an aching body and a sharp grunt.

“Y/N!” It was unrecognisable as to who yelled for your name, but you were tired.

You were shaking extremely now. The statics ringing in your ears became deafening to the point that you didn’t hear what the next thing was. Your vision got blurry, and dark spots started to patch up your vision. You closed your eyelids shut numerously in an attempt to recover, and as you did so, you caught the bits and pieces of what was occurring right in front of you.

Bianca groaned as she toppled on the ground just the same as her. Crackstone looked unfazed as he stood with a stab, the fiery blaze of fire appearing on his back to his lower chest. He turned and soon, it was your turn as you stood. He took the blade to make use of it, but you weren’t having it. Not to Bianca. Not to anyone in that courtyard, except him.

You swiftly got on your feet, ignoring the statics and the migraine that had formed once you stood up. Your limping feet dragged you in front of the siren as you stopped right there with the dagger whipping past the air at lightning speed.

You were getting sick of lifting your hand, but it was needed this time or anyone in this courtyard is dead. You tried to stop the blade from rushing towards you, and for a second, you thought you did.

That was when you caught the smirk on Crackstone’s face. You knew it wasn’t good. So did Bianca. Your eyes widened in fear, but you didn’t have much time to react.

When with that, the blade pierced through your flesh with the sound of the metal cutting through your skin and burying deep in your body as you let out a shortened gasp. With pursed lips, you looked down and saw the dagger on your lower abdomen. The blood was quickly seeping through your clothes, shining under the joined light provided by the moon, the stars, and the fire that Wednesday thought used to burn in your eyes.

Before you completely succumbed to the dizziness was the sight of Crackstone turning to Wednesday. Then, it blurred. All your eyes could gather was the fire getting fiercer in the form of Crackstone’s figure. Was it fire? You didn’t know, but you heard the low monstrous scream that almost made you let out a victorious cry.

But once the final disappearance of his body started in the blaze, it burst into a powerful surge of what his power once was, causing a strong wave that wiped the fire off the courtyard.

You looked at Wednesday who returned the gesture as she glared at you with her sharp narrowed eyes. You plummeted to the ground shortly after with Bianca rushing over.

Wednesday marched forward and pushed the siren aside in haste as she kneeled down next to you. Your breaths were hitching, your hand laid on the dagger, stained with the red hue of your metallic blood. Beads of sweat started forming on your forehead which felt odd to you as you began to feel colder each minute.

“Don’t you dare pull out the knife,” Wednesday’s command made you groan. You could feel the metal in you, and it was the most discomforting sensation.

Wednesday didn’t know how to act or feel. She didn’t even know what to think, but the fact that you laid there on the ground, bleeding out as you trembled made her lose her mind. She couldn’t have that or else she’d lose her composure.

“I’ll call for help,” Bianca proclaimed before running out of the courtyard.

But that wasn’t the end of it all when you and Wednesday’s ears perked up at the sound of a gun cocking in the distance. And lo and behold was Thornhill with a gun in her hand, aimed at the girl who slowly stood up to confront Laurel.

“You brought a gun to a sword fight. It’s probably the first smart decision you’ve made today.”

“I might not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I get to kill you, Wednesday.”

You groaned and shut your eyes from the stinging pain, your eyes getting tired to keep wide open as yet another fight occurred. Laurel had her gun pointed straight on Wednesday, but it was as if you didn’t feel the pain when a bee appeared followed by Eugene with his bright smile that seemed to crack the tension into two, replacing the delight of the moon to the shine of the sun.

You could’ve exceeded the amount of the stars of thanking him for saving Wednesday, but your breaths were getting shorter, and you knew there and then that this was probably the last time you’ll ever feel your heart beating in your chest.

You swallowed the lump on your throat. No, you can’t cry. Not now. Not here on the ground.

“Eugene, search the school for an emergency medical kit. Make it quick before I dig a grave.”

Wednesday turned to you, not wasting another minute to rush next to you again. She put her hand on your chest to feel the pound of your hope inside. You didn’t like this weak profile of you in front of the girl you so badly wanted to defeat just because you saw a bit of yourself in her.

( Cue the start of the music )

You always hated your reflection, hence why when she attended Nevermore, she had become nothing but a walking mirror yet also an ironic form of what you despised.

She despised you equally. You always gave her that stare she didn’t like. Wednesday found you to be a scuff on the floor she’d walk past on, but you became addicting to defeat that even winning against Bianca had become pointless when she spotted you in the crowd and challenged you in the archery field.

“It hurts,” you mumbled shakily as you tried your best to hold a noise down your throat.

She hated that. She hated that it affected her. Wednesday shouldn’t care for you, not after all the pent up anger she felt when you were around. Not the anger that made her want to stick around you more in order to rub it in your face that she was so much better than you tried to prove yourself to be.

A noise escaped your lips.

That made her close her eyes. She never did that. She wanted to remove the sight of you in front of her, and she thought it was just because you looked so human — weak. Or was it because of the hurt that she felt in her stomach? She has had enough. She wanted cotton to block her ears from your noise. You had been suppressing the noises, but God, this noise was different now. You were suffering, and it made her stomach churn once she noticed that she knew that.

Why would she know that about you?

“Wednesday,” you called, your voice being something she couldn’t get herself to listen to but still tried.

She opened her eyes and clenched her jaw.

“You’re about to cry.” Wednesday remarked dryly, hiding the fact that it made her want to stab her eyes for noticing such a detail. “It’s unnecessary.”

Who was she kidding? She had an arrow that pierced through the flesh of her shoulder and it already stung. What more a stab that she knew what felt like? Especially twisted. It was an electrocution with tenfold the increased voltage on the maimed part of the body. It wasn’t just that. There was more to it than she saw from you now.

You chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that too.”

You didn’t want things to end like this. Wednesday wasn’t a mirror. She was a similarity that you had an opportunity to know and relate to. You had a chance for her to be your friend, but instead of taking that chance, you looked at her like a competition just because you hated the aspect of yourself that you tried to link with her.

Wednesday tensed up when your bloody hand found hers on the dirty ground. Your fingers touching hers making her head spin faster than the Earth on its axis. There was a sensation there. On the spot that your cold hands inflicted upon the place of contact. A slight feeling that caused her to look down at it, her eyes going from anger to something gentle and unexplainable. You were holding her hand. She wanted to process that in her head.

You were holding her hand.

Wednesday wanted to kill after the contact, because the look you had on your face mirrored hers. She knew it wasn’t a good sign.

“Can we pretend like we didn’t try to kill each other for the whole term?” Your voice was barely a voice. The question had become a whisper that only she could hear.

No, no. You weren’t doing this. She didn’t want it. She didn’t need it. The young Addams never asked for it but why were you doing it? God, you were stubborn. She hated you so much!

But you were you. There was nothing she could do about it. You were your own person, and that’s perhaps . . . Wednesday looked at your joined hands once again. It made her feel.

You made her feel.

Every aspect of you made her feel alive.

She thought she’d known thrill and the concept of romance all her life, but she was sure that every bit and piece of what she knew about it could be matched with this — this fluttery feeling in her stomach. The spark crackling on her skin that you were in contact with. Your eyes sending shivers down her spine. This state of you that angered her so much. Her knees shaking from fear of having no one in Nevermore to compete with once again.

Why did she feel this way?

She was supposed to despise you. Wednesday pursed her lips. She looked down at yours. There was a night that she pondered over why the first thing she kept seeing was your lips when she saw you. Then, after that one thought came the billions in her head when she lied still on her cold bed in the middle of the night that would sometimes even last until the light of dawn. She thought it was just because she hated you.

She thought it was just because you provoked such an emotion in her that was far too complicated for her to comprehend. Now, Wednesday wanted to test a theory, but was there even a theory to be tested, or was it the truth?

“I never hated you.”

She heard laughter from you. Was it funny that she said that? Was that statement pointless to you? Did it mean nothing? Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, her eyelashes doing that thing you usually found amusing.

You looked away and focused on the blanket of stars glinting so brightly above you. You let out a breath, “Huh.”

Should you tell her the truth? “Since I’m dying, I think you deserve the truth.”

That made her look up at you again, tearing her gaze away from your hand again. you almost laughed at her if you weren’t so badly injured now.

“I think I never hated you too, Wednesday.”

If an instrument was checking the pounding of her heartbeat, the machine would have gone crazy as the lines came in shambles. It was the same for you, but how would you know? You — why was she staring at you like that?

Why were her eyes the ones glossy now?

“You’re about to cry.” You commented, ignoring the sharp pain that started to become worse now that you thought was like the one before. You didn’t think much of it. Yes, it was painful, but why would you? “It’s unnecessary.”

You gasped at yet another pain. Your hands clutched hers, making her shift in her spot, her fingers squeezing you back.

That didn’t help your already dying heartbeat. There was more to what you said before, but you had to refrain yourself drom embarrassing yourself in front of her just in case this was the last.

And you were sure this was your last.

You vowed never to fall for the traps of love, most especially its romantic form. You saw and experienced many things that you never wanted to look back on ever again. However, you hated how your wall slowly crumbled down for Wednesday who almost shared the same perspective as you, although hers was more glum and grim. Yours was about the matter of love. Hers was about life.

Maybe this similarity was the reason you managed to be close to her. Not that close. Just this close. Just this in which you’d share the peace in front of the quiet lake without saying another word. Just holding each other’s gazes on occasions and looking away, with you clearing your throat and her bumping your shoulder to the point that it would ache later on for no reason. Just stealing glances at certain times while the other was accompanied by another at the Rave’N. Just fighting most of the time. Just acting like nothing happened the next. Just ignoring each other’s presence while looking back when walking past each other in the corridors of Nevermore.

“Y/N?”

You gasped, “I can’t — ” You panted for air again, “Breathe.”

“Don’t speak.” Her trembling hand removed its grip from yours as she stood up, frantic yet graceful when she spotted and obtained the blade she banished Crackstone with on the ground. The girl cut the edge of her long skirt and proceeded to take a long piece, careful not to make her own shorter than it should be.

She then proceeded to kneel down next to you. No, you weren’t leaving her hanging like this. Your truth was barely the truth, and she wnated to hear from you. She badly wanted to hear your voice again in full volume, in that pitch that she always knew.

Wednesday cried for Thing, but God, you? She knew she’d fill an ocean. This couldn’t be happening to her again.

She hated you now. She hated how scared you were making her feel in that moment. Were you even aware of what you were doing to her? She was supposed to be in her best composure, handling this in a graceful way that wouldn’t require her to shake so much, to curse in her head just because you were struggling.

Why did she care?! She cared so much it was too unnecessary, and her eyes were starting to water from this sight of you.

The girl wrapped the cloth around the knife that she couldn’t pull out. She put pressure on the spot but her heart dropped to her stomach the most when a tear escaped your eye.

Wednesday’s eyes widened. She quickly took you by the shoulders and laid your head on her lap in a hurry. Now was the time that she didn’t know what to do the most.

You couldn’t leave her like this.

She couldn’t bear it. She wouldn’t.

She wanted to spend another moment alone in the quiet in front of the lake, staring at your reflections and stealing glances over the water.

She wanted to ponder about you at night, questioning why it was your lips first that she captured when she looked back at you when you passed by each other in the hallways.

She wanted — no, demanded to see your annoying face that kept popping up in her nightmares and daydreams to show up beaming at her, laughing at some stupid joke someone told.

Your life story can’t just end like this.

What was she to do without you? Wednesday could imagine a world where it was just you and her living off the taunts of each other, competing to wind, but enjoying each other’s company.

She envisioned you laying your head on her shoulder after a long exhausting day, ranting to her about how your day went. She could envision herself just nodding, being the same old her that people often thought did not care enough.

Did you care enough?

Because she did. Enough to hold you in her arms, to embarrass herself in front of you.

How the mighty have fallen for the graces of someone like you? You thought.

“If you die on me, I will make history repeat itself just to bring you back and I'll stab you again myself.”

You used what bit of your energy was left to quirk your lips up to form a curve. You liked Wednesday.

It was clearer than the water you occasionally stared at for hours in her company.

“Out of all the people in the world, the ones I share the same blood with, used to tell my secrets to,” you quietly gasped for air to continue, “This, Wednesday Addams . . .”

Your clutch on her arm was starting to loosen as your eyelids started to slowly drop down to meet the darkness.

“This is the only time I feel given a damn about.”

Wednesday’s eyes didn’t know which to focus on. They darted on the dagger, the blood, the cloth, your eyes, your parted lips — “Y/N?” That was the first time her call for someone had a frantic frightened tone.

Your hand on the ground without another sign of movement was a touch of something that amde her feel as if someone had poured acid in her stomach. Her hand made its way to your cheek, not caring whether the blood on her hand got on your face.

Why weren’t you waking up? Why weren’t you opening her eyes and shooting up from the ground to tell her that you were just joking? She didn’t care if it was a fucked up prank, as long as she knew you were still there.

But no, God no, you weren’t.

“Wake up, Y/N.”

She shook you, but there was nothing. She placed two fingers on the side of your neck to check your pulse but she couldn’t get any sign of it.

A tear fell.

Wednesday halted. The girl touched her cheek, wiping the drop of what she vowed never to do again and leisurely examined her finger that shone with the wet surface because of the tear.

There she knew.

Wednesday wished she had realised it before, but no, it took you reaching the end of your own life story before she could even understand.

She knew a bit about you.

She knew you were Y/N and that you used to live in a small home in a small town in Romania where you had a family that pushed you around just because you were an outcast. That you had a gift that none of them could accept, for it was deemed to be witchcraft or that it made them insecure to use as a reason to make you feel small.

She knew you used to have friends who spilled all your secrets that made you fall from your grace. From being at the top down to the six foot level underground.

She knew you had a fling. She knew it didn’t end well. She knew your family put you in Nevermore to get rid of you and find yourself.

She knew that you cried yourself to sleep, knew that you believed that no one cared.

She knew what was going on in the back of your mind when you wiped away your tears in front of the lake.

Wednesday just wished she never looked away when she saw who you were. She wished she never resisted what it was that she felt.

Because what you went through? She knew it was that much of a cut and the stab that Crackstone had done to you was the thousandth.

Or maybe it was the words that were left unsaid?

AUTHOR’S NOTE. part two will be coming up soon! this will be edited tomorrow since it’s so late already and i have to wake up in about four hours again. if you want to get tagged for the next part, just leave a comment. thank you!

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday #fleetingvow #wednesday addams imagines #jenna ortega wednesday #wensday addams x reader #wednesday addams fic rec #wednesday addams request #wednesday addams netflix #wednesday x reader

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mrs-gucci · 7 months

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For the Hunt

{ werewolf!flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Werewolf Flip wanting to knock you up (or role play at it) and scenting when you’re ripe for him and chasing you down and pounding you

thank you for submitting this!!

warnings. SMUT (18+), werewolf in rut, primal kink (hunter/prey), breeding kink w/no intention of actually getting pregnant, dirty talk, outdoor sex, creampie, minimal aftercare.

word count: 995

🐺 written for werewolf wednesday 🐺

Your breathing is soft, exhilarated, creating little puffs of steam in the cold night air. A shiver runs down your spine, out of excitement or nerves, you’re not really sure.

You two have an agreement that on rut nights, he has full consent to use you however he wants or needs to. He tells you what he needs from you on a particular night and you give it to him willingly, whether it's being tied up on the bed down in the basement or up at his remote mountain cabin.

His absolute favorite thing, however, is when he gets to hunt you. Which is why you’re currently standing behind a big pine tree, trying to steady your breathing.

By now you’ve nearly perfected the art of giving Flip a good chase, having been with him for almost six years. And tonight is an extra special full moon because you’re ovulating, which gives Flip the ultimate prize in his werewolf brain: the chance to breed you.

He looks up at the full moon with his golden eyes, knowing it’s time to hunt, he lifts his snout eagerly.

Almost instantly, he picks up traces of your scent and his paws thud against the earth as he runs into the thick Colorado wilderness. He can already feel that this is one of his more mild ruts, but he's still just as desperate and tuned-in regardless.

Flip slows down and sniffs the air again, knowing that he's close. You can feel him nearby, sticks snapping and leaves crunching under his large paws.

You sneak a look around the tree and he doesn't seem to notice, so you quickly attempt to sneak to another tree. But of course, his head whips over and you freeze, then take off running.

He feels the familiar tingle of his primal hunting instinct creeping up through his body, but he still gives you a head start before taking off in your direction, eyes beginning to turn black with desire.

Your breathing is heavy as you sprint away from Flip, trying to give him a good chase. He growls softly out of sheer thrill and quickly dips to the side to run around you, then stands proudly. You come to a screeching halt.

Strands of drool hang from his jowls as he takes a step forward, then another, piercing you with his lustful stare. You let out a shaky breath and step back, not actually afraid but acting so anyway.

"Please don't hurt me," you say softly, eyes flickering down to his hard member for just a moment.

He grunts when he notices your quick downward look and stands a bit taller, eager to present himself to you.

"I have something else in mind," he says in his deep, gruff voice. "If you do your job correctly, then it should be pleasurable for both of us."

You bite your lip as he steps forward again, sniffing the air.

"You smell especially good tonight, little girl. I could smell your ripe, fertile pussy from back at the house. You're so ready to be bred."

"I don't--"

"Run," he says, interrupting you. "If I catch you, you're mine."

Immediately, you take off again and he gives you a moment before taking three long strides, catching you and causing you to fall over. He quickly catches you with a clawed paw, though.

He brings his mouth down to your ear as he lowers you to the ground.

"I got you," he says. "And now, I get to pound you until you're swollen with my seed."

You whimper softly as he holds your wrists down and takes a sharpened claw to your pants, tearing the crotch open to make room for his thick, pulsing cock. He lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your legs apart and lines himself up with your wet entrance.

Flip groans when he finally gets the wet, hot relief he's been desiring all night within your walls. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, his hips delivering sharp thrusts.

You moan unashamedly as Flip growls and fucks you from behind. Hearing his noises of pleasure only arouses you more and you clench, earning a surprised, breathy grunt from your husband.

“F-Flip…”

His noises get louder and he leans down again, beginning to lick at your neck and jaw, occasionally scraping his teeth lightly against your skin as an alternative.

“I need you,” he grunts, hips speeding up slightly. “I need you to h-hold all my cum inside, keep it a-all…give me pups…”

You gasp softly, eyebrows knitting in pleasure.

“I will,” you breathe. “I-I’ll keep it all f-for you, my love.”

His cock throbs and he knows he can't hold on much longer. He always feels guilty that more often than not, you don't get to cum like this. But he definitely makes sure to return the favor the first opportunity he gets.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna--" He cuts off as the intense orgasmic sensations suddenly rush through him. His eyes flutter shut and he rocks his hips desperately, spilling every drop he has deep inside of you. "O-Ohhhh god..."

You sigh softly as he lets go of your wrists and sits up a bit, still staying buried deep in your pussy. He helps you get up on your hands and knees, then licks your neck again.

"Are you alright? I wasn't too harsh?"

"I'm fine, honey," you reassure, looking back at him with a small smile. "I promise I'm okay. I would've used the safe word if I wasn't."

Flip nods and pulls out slowly, letting out a shaky huff as he does so. When you stand up, he gently picks you up and you rest in his large arms. You smile up at him.

"I love you, Flip."

His eyes soften and wishes he could return your smile. "I love you too."

You sigh softly and look up at the night sky as Flip carries you back to the house.

****

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lizpaige · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday 💭

here's a snippet of my declan outside pov of pynch (set of vignettes exploring declan's trust of one adam parrish)

Text from Ronan I need a ride to church

There were two baffling things about this text from his brother. One, Ronan texted him. Also, Ronan texted him without profanity, a middle finger, and with more than one letter. Declan often found the ever infuriating letter k more often than even a response from his brother. The second unknown was why Ronan was willing to spend time in the Volvo with Declan driving. Anytime they did have to travel together, Ronan was quick to explode in profanities about Declan’s A-safety rating driving habits before threatening to throw himself out while they were cruising at a respectable 65 on the highway.

Declan immediately thought the worst. He must have totaled the BMW. He tried calling Ronan once, twice, but gave up before the third time with no answer. He tried texting, knew that was useless, but tried anyway. No answer. Typical. He could feel the acid creeping up his throat, the anxiety of having to deal with the insurance mess, the unknown of what kind of deathtrap vehicle Ronan could dream up next.

So when he pulled up to their childhood home on Sunday morning, he was shocked to see the BMW sitting unscathed in the driveway.

“What the fuck,” Declan grunted under his breath, unsure if he was happy to see the vehicle or angry that Ronan put him through hell on the lead up to absolutely nothing.

“See?” Matthew grinned from the passenger seat. “The car is fine! You had nothing to worry about.”

“Sure.”

Declan shot off a text to Ronan, he did not want to get out of the car, and scrolled through a few work emails while he waited for his brother to show up. He let the anger simmer and slowly dissipate, working on breathing through his nose. He would not be the first to blow up today, and let Ronan paint him as the bad guy to Matthew. He could already see it now, Ronan shrugging innocently at Declan, a quiet and sarcastic I just wanted more time with you, bro, and Matthew would hear none of its irony.

Two or three minutes passed and Declan looked up at the front door just in time to see a shadow pass behind the glass. Good, kept them waiting long enough. The front door open and his brother wasn’t alone.

Behind Ronan, still in the shadows of the foyer, was clearly Adam Parrish, in wrinkled clothes, dark circles under his eyes, and a smirk. He was saying something to Ronan, who laughed genuinely, the kind of laugh Declan heard most often when Ronan was making jokes at Declan’s expense. Something else passed between them, a look Declan couldn’t quite place, it was too quick.

Ronan hopped off the top of the porch onto the gravel, heading toward the Volvo.

“Lynch,” Adam called from the doorway, stepping out and using his back to keep the screen door open.

Ronan turned, patted his pockets, and then tossed a set of keys, no doubt the ones that belonged to his BMW, to Adam, who caught them deftly.

What. The. Fuck.

#declan lynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #pynch #pynch fic #wip wednesday #trc #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fic #trc fic

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bestwenclairfics · 7 days

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Sweet Nothings - Chapter 1 - Hymenopus - Wednesday (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

I love when in a fic Wednesday showered Enid's with affection even Addams family.

---

Sneak peak:

She unfolded typewriter paper and read happily.

‘Dear Enid,

This reminded me of something that you would enjoy.

-Wednesday Addams’

She laughed, a large piece of paper and a fancy envelope for thirteen words. That was so Wednesday, proper and to the point.

Her heart swelled in her chest as she sat the paper aside and pulled out another small box, the same metallic silver shade as the writing on the first box. She opened it and almost started crying again, a beautiful golden necklace sat gently on velvet fabric. A small rosebud and flakes of gold encased in resin. Enid squealed, she thought of the time she told Wednesdays how receiving flowers made her sad because they would always die, she wasn’t sure if Wednesday was even listening but the necklace was proof.

+++++

This fic could have more episodes because I have a lot of questions about the other characters but it's ok

#wenclair #enid sinclair #wednesday adams #wednesday #wenclair fanfic #bestwenclairfanfics #wenclair fic #wednesdayaddams #enidsinclair #wednesday addams

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firawren · 21 days

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WIP Wednesday

My main WIP at the moment is "Rose Brides," a retelling of Disney's Beauty and the Beast with a different curse where Adam has been a beast his whole life and Belle is magically bound to his palace, and some aspects of the original fairy tale woven in.

The snippet below is the prologue:

Once upon a time, a young lord lived in a shining palace. Although his mind was strong and face was beautiful, his heart was cold and shriveled from his wicked ways. He cared for no one but himself. Instead of watching over his subjects' wellbeing, he laughed at their misfortunes, and made them greater through his greed and neglect.

One day, a poor peasant woman of infirm condition was admitted to his court to petition for his help. She explained the mishaps and afflictions that had led to her sorry state, and begged him for only a single bag of grain to feed her hungry children. The wicked lord sneered at her request and dismissed her without a penny. She warned him that his own body might one day be twisted and imperfect, and his own children might one day be desperate, and begged him again to consider her need.

When he laughed and dismissed her again, she transformed into an enchantress, beautiful and terrible in her power. The lord fell to his knees and tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart.

As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on his bloodline, cursing any sons he would sire to be beasts as well, for posterity. He ripped at his fur with his claws, raging about how he would ever be able to have a wife, let alone sons, in this loathsome form.

Perhaps this touched her heart, for the enchantress then softened her curse with a gift: a bag of enchanted rose seeds. She explained that if he planted one of these seeds, the old rose bush in the nearby village would bloom with a single rose. Any woman who plucked the rose would be compelled to come to his palace, and would then be bound there, and bound to him, a companion for all of his days. His rose bride.

Or perhaps this was not another gift from the enchantress, but rather, another part of his curse. Perhaps it was a test, or a warning, for she did urge him to consider what might bring him true happiness. But if it was a warning, the beast lord did not heed it, for before a day had passed, he had planted the first rose seed. His corrupt heart throbbed in wicked glee when a beautiful young woman appeared at his palace, holding a single glowing red rose in her trembling hand. He took her, but was not satisfied. His greed only grew, and he demanded payment of a woman from the village whenever it suited his whim.

The villagers quickly learned never to ignore the enchanted rose bush when it was in bloom. If no woman plucked the rose, he would descend from his palace and attack the villagers in a ferocious rage, tearing them apart with his inhuman strength, and no one was ever able to stop him. They tried to destroy the rose bush as well, but its enchantment protected it from their axes and their fire. And so they lived in fear of their beastly lord and prayed their daughters and sisters would not one day be compelled to become one of his doomed rose brides.

The first rose bride bore the lord a beastly son, and he too took rose brides, as did his son, and the next. None of these poor women ever lasted long, wasting away in the misery of their palace prison. With each life it claimed, the once beautiful palace sunk deeper into darkness and decrepitude, laden with a palpable gloom that oppressed all those within its dismal walls.

Such was the woeful home into which Adam was born, a strange and fearsome beast like his father and all the lords before him. Bitter and despairing at his lot in life, Adam became disgusted by his family’s lineage and legacy. When his father died, he burnt the bag of rose seeds, determined to never demand a rose bride and live his life in miserable solitude. He dismissed all but two of his servants and locked himself away, never appearing to anyone outside his palace. As the years passed, the young people of the village grew to nearly forget there was ever a curse on their hidden lord, as the rose bush had never bloomed within their lifetimes.

Until the day when it bloomed again.

#rose brides fic #beauty and the beast #fanfic #batb fanfic #beauty and the beast 1991 #disney fanfiction #belle x beast #belle #the beast #prince adam #fairy tales #fairy tale retelling #wip wednesday #my writing #my stuff

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nat-seal-well · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday <3

I was tagged by @evilbunnyking, who posted a snippet I devoured. You don’t even know

Tagging @pinksparkl, @agentnatesewell, @troubadour-malin, and @definitelynotagentm (whose fics I am currently working my way through and am absolutely in love with I’m like 💙💙💙💙) and anyone else who wants to share what they’re working on 🥰

Under the cut is a snippet from an old WIP I’m trying to actually finish, which will be titled hello my old heart (because it was what I was listening to at work when I got the inspiration for this fic). It will feature Adam and an unnamed, gender-neutral detective :)

His heart wakes up the day after he first sets foot in some sleepy little down in the middle of nowhere. It tries to start telling him the truth, but falls on unhearing ears, beating too softly after its near-millenium of silent imprisonment for Adam to notice. He is too busy being thoroughly unimpressed with his current surroundings; he can almost stretch out his arms and reach both sides of Wayhaven, it’s so small. How do people live in such a tiny place and not drive one another mad?

The office space he’s crammed into with the rest of Unit Bravo is just as suffocating. Adam has spent years with these people, and knows them almost better than he knows himself, but right now the cramped space and their proximity does not bring him any comfort. It just makes the lack of room all the more apparent.

…It also doesn’t help that he feels like he can still smell the sting of capsaicin. He’d rinsed himself off thoroughly after the encounter, but swears the stuff is clinging to him a day later. It had cost him a shirt he was particularly partial to.

Felix had laughed when it happened. He’d laughed harder after their handler gave them a photograph too, of their latest assignment. Their charge. He’d looked like he wanted to laugh as they all filed into Wayhaven’s police department, biting back the sound even when Adam gave him a look. And he still does now as Unit Bravo lines themselves up to meet the Detective—their human agent’s only child. Their mission.

And, of course, the pepper spray culprit. Though depending on how one looks at it, perhaps he and his team are the culprits instead, and not the Detective.

Either way, Fortuna clearly is not on Adam’s side. He suspects it’s likely she will remain elusive until Unit Bravo can finally put this place behind them, and focus on work that does not include tasks like being bodyguards. Glorified babysitters. This was not what he signed up for when he joined the Agency.

The Detective cracks their knuckles—a nearly unbearable sound even for him, and it makes Mason clench his jaw—as they try to smile as politely as they can. Their body language screams discomfort. For one fleeting moment, Adam wonders how things look from the other side; he knows he is often imposing, and neither he or his team have ever tried particularly hard to blend in with the human world around them. There was never any point to it before.

This temporary stay in Wayhaven will be quite the test for all of them.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #wip wednesday #twc adam #adam du mortain #twc detective #fic wip

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thegreatestsandwich · 1 year

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I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay (Xavier Thorpe x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x f!reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: There was one thing Xavier truly despise and that was you...so why does he feel bad when he sees you cry?

Warning: Enemies to lovers, but mostly for Xavier because you are a sweetheart and who could ever hate you?

A/N: At this point, my blog became a huge love appreciation for this little baby (and for Namor as well)

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

There’s some things Xavier truly despise about you, the way you always seem to know the answer to whatever question the professor asks, the way you always have that smirk on your face when you ace another exam, the way you never shut up or when you never take off the gloves on your hands, and the list could go and go and go.

So when the rumor about that normie that asked you on a date, he knew that was another reason to hated you.

Xavier couldn’t help to think that your ego was really high and even if you were a bit secretive about your personal affairs, the whole school loved to talk about you. I guess that was another fact of his hatred.

The fair had arrived a bit earlier this month and the school was happily giving passes to every student so they could go and enjoy it. It was Ajax the one who persuade him into going, but in reality he didn’t want to. He just wanted to go into his shed, close the door, put some music and enjoy the small quiet space while he painted.

But now he was sitting on one of the benches, cotton candy on one hand, a corndog on the other and a sour face. He was clearly enjoying this. Xavier sighed as he just wanted to do anything else than being here.

“Dude, dude, dude!” Ajax pushed him a bit as he sat on the bench. “Guess what I just saw?”

Xavier couldn’t help but sigh again. “What.”

“Remember the normie that asked (L/N) out on a date?” Ajax was getting so giddy with the story that Xavier decided to ignore him but nodded anyway. “Well, the guy never show up! She’s been there sitting all alone and creepy, isn’t it awesome?” He raised his hand and Xavier stared at it. Ajax moved it a bit. “Dude, high-five?”

Xavier frowned, “What?”

“Yeah dude, this is like your chance to go and laugh about it!” Ajax grabbed the corndog and the cotton candy. “Go, go.”

Xavier quickly stood up and began walking towards your location and he saw you there, sitting all alone. He sighed, placing his hands on his pockets and walked a bit slower. He stood next to you and stayed quiet.

“If you came here to make a joke, let me tell you that you are a bit late, the others already came to laugh about it.” You stared at your hands, not really having the strength to look at him. “Sorry.”

“You think I came here for that?” Xavier asked you, he was a little bit offended but when you turned to face him, whatever he was feeling just disappeared at how distraught you were. “Move.” His hand gently pushed you to make room for him.

You huffed but kept quiet, you began tapping the table with your fingers, trying your hardest to kept your cool. “Ajax told you?” You murmured.

Xavier nodded, placing his hands on the table and interwinding his fingers. “Did he show up?” He gently asked you.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “In a way.” Your voice wabbling a bit. Your hand quickly went into your purse, got your phone and unlocked. You put it on the table. “Took a photo and left.”

Xavier grabbed the phone and the anger he was feeling got bigger, he bit his cheek to refrain himself to curse in front of you.

There it was, a simple photo of you sitting here, waiting.

‘SIKE! Good luck next time freek!’

“He didn’t even spell freak right.” You laughed but Xavier could hear the tears burning on your throat. “Stupid right?”

“C’mon, grab your things.” He gave you your phone back and stood up, watching you.

“What?”

“C’mon, there’s a convenient store closer, it’s a bit of a walk but it’s close.” His hands went quickly into the pockets of his jacket, his head nodding to the side. “C’mon.”

You sighed. “What are you doing Xavier?” But still stood up anyway.

“I just told you, I’m hungry so let’s go.”

You sighed again and began following him, the walk was quiet as neither one of you were too comfortable to be in each other presence. Xavier glance at your direction, noticing how you were trembling for a bit. I mean it was quite obvious, you weren’t dressed for the cold but he understood, you wanted to make an impression. But you didn’t need to. He thought.

“You cold?” He broke the silence, you turned to face him but shook your head.

“Uh, no.” You paused. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” He shook off his jacket, he felt the cold but he didn’t care. His hand offering you his jacket, you stared at it and gently took it. Your gloved hands quickly putting it on. “Why the gloves?” He was curious.

“So I don’t accidently touch anyone.” You whispered, your eyes on your hands. “Um, principal Weems gave them to me after my parents transferred me here, after the accident.”

“Accident?” Xavier began wondering if he truly knew you if he ignored the rumors.

You nodded. “Um, a guy kissed me on my other school but he kinda…just…died, so that’s why the gloves.”

Xavier then realized that you actually never have a group on your own to just hang out, you were always alone and the reason wasn’t that you thought superior. You just didn’t want to touch the others. “I um, I make things come to life, mostly my paintings.”

You softly smiled at him. “Yeah, I know, um, my first day you made a cat spook me after I left principal Weems’s office.”

He smiled. “Kinda awesome, don’t you think?” And you nodded, still smiling and he smiled back.

“So,” You started, this is the first time he was talking to you and you didn’t want to fuck it up. “What are you going to buy?”

“Kinda craving some ramen.” He shrugged. “Wanna share?”

“Oh.” You paused. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Well, um.” You hesitated. “I don’t…”

“We are sharing.” He bumped your shoulders with his and you froze, stopping completely. “You okey?”

You stared at Xavier and waited for him to just drop dead.

He didn’t.

“Yeah.” You sighed in relief. “Totally,”

Xavier offered you a smile and nodded back to the road. “Cool.”

#xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday netflix #wednesday adams fic #wednesday adams imagine

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wol-fica · 10 months

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-ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℙ𝕣𝕖-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤-

pairings - wednesdayaddams x elemental!reader

summary - in which reader has a crush on a certain goth…

warnings - angst, pining, rude Xavier (sorry), happy ending

an - i miss writing for Nessy, so i think this would be a good addition to my bliss series; this is before they got together :) shit writing btw

—————————

Shit.

That is the word you would use to describe yourself right now.

Mornings have never been your thing, you hated getting out of your warm bed just to immediately go and sit in a boring class for a ninety minutes learning about the anatomy of a mythical horse or whatever the lesson plan was. School was an agitator for you, but you still valued your education so waking up on time was a need-to-do.

Usually though, you at least get yourself ready and look decent enough for the day, but this morning was different. See, yesterday during lunch in the quad, you were writing the final draft of your confession letter to a certain raven haired goth. Your crush had been festering for a few months now, and you had decided to write a little something for her to let her know how you feel.

Everything was going perfect, you were just about done with the letter and was going to slip it under her dorm after folding it up, but a gust of wind ruined your whole plan. The letter flew across the quad and into the hands of Xavier Thorpe, who happened to despise you.

He read the whole thing in one go, snorted at it and stared at you with a little condescending smirk before walking it straight over to his friend group. Everyone, including Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Eugene Ottinger, Ajax Petropolus, the twins Kent and Divina, and Wednesday Addams herself all read it collectively.

Xavier was laughing his head off while they did, and Kent joined in once he finished. Ajax chuckled while Enid giggled with a little blush of her face, Eugene looked confused to who wrote it, Yoko and Divina smirked and shared a look before squinting at you, and Wednesday just looked blank.

You watched in pure horror, your body shrinking into your seat while the whole thing unfolded. You felt sick to your stomach, and to top the whole thing off, Wednesday took the letter and crumpled it into a little ball, tossing it into the trashcan next to her.

Your heart shattered, mouth dropped open in shock. Xavier turned to look back at you, pointing and leaning on his knees while laughing at your expression. Tears formed into your eyes, and with one last look at the girl you so badly liked, you snatched up your things and ran.

Fast forward to now, where you just looked dead. Your hair was disheveled, there were dark bags under your eyes, and you barely made any effort to make your uniform look fit and well kept. Your tie was loose, your jacket was unbuttoned, and your shirt was wrinkled and dusted at the collar. You had no socks on, and you didn’t even bother to put a belt on your pants.

People stared in class, whispering amongst themselves while pointing at you. At one point, you thought you saw Enid shoot you a look of pity, but you shrugged it off to being your sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on you.

You looked depressed, because you were, and it did not help when you crossed Xavier in the hallway and he said loudly to Kent, “Looks like a dirtbag!”

You sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky before hurrying to get to the quad for dinner. You planned on eating, and getting back to your dorm as soon as you could so no one would have to endure looking at you any longer.

After standing in line and grabbing your tray, you trudged to an empty table and sat down, slumping in your seat. You were exhausted from lack of sleep and crying all night, and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you leaned your forehead against the table and tears started to form again. Your tray of food was left untouched while you cried to yourself, and the stare from a certain goth went unnoticed by you.

Wednesday was watching you, her black eyes burrowing into the side of your head while your body shook slightly with each painful sob you produced. She felt a weird feeling in her stomach, one of pity and remorse she didn’t understand. Her heart was telling her to go to you, to pull you into her arms and hold you close while she comforted you, but her stubbornness refused the idea.

“Wednesday.”

She turned her head away from you, choosing ti look at Enid now, “What.”

Enid sighed, glancing at you before looking back at her roommate, “You should talk to her.”

Wednesday furrowed her brow, “There is no reason for me to.”

“Yes there is.” Enid replied, bringing her fork to her mouth and chewing on a piece of steak.

“Just because she sent me a confession letter, doesn’t make me obligated to take care of her.”

“Wednesday c’mon!” Enid said, giving her friend a look, “You read that letter, she really likes you!”

Wednesday glared back, “And? I still see no reason for me to go talk to her.”

Enid sighed, glancing around before leaning in to whisper lowly, “What Xavier did was unacceptable and rude, you should at least make sure she is okay.”

Wednesday turned to look at you for a moment, the pang of guilt returning when she saw you had lifted your head. Your face was stained with tears, eyes heavy and tired from crying. You meekly picked at your food, not even bringing the utensil up to take a bite.

“I suppose I could check in to see how she is.” Wednesday murmured, her heart beating slightly faster at the thought of talking to you.

“You should.” Enid said, turning back to her steak, “It’s the right thing to-.”

“But her sadness is not my problem.” Wednesday finished, sparing you one last glance before picking up her book and continuing to read.

“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, “Really? You won’t even ask her how she is feeling?”

“She’s clearly sad Enid, I don’t need to ask to see that.”

“Wednesday.” Enid growled, gaining her roommate’s attention, “Go talk to her, now.”

“You cannot make me-.”

“I see how you look at her.”

Wednesday’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes locking with Enids.

“I see how you stare in class,” Enid said, “I notice how you have her schedule in your desk, and how you blush when she walks by.”

Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You like her, it’s clear as day. But you can’t break her heart just because you don’t want to accept your feelings for her.”

Wednesday glared at Enid, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. She wanted to respond, a little clap back about how she barely even knows you, but nothing came forward.

“Go to her, before it’s too late.” Enid finished, nodding her head at your retreading figure as you left the quad.

Wednesday huffed, giving her roommate one last silent threat before slamming her book shut, stuffing it in her bag, and quickly following after you. Her steps were quick and quiet, not wanting you to spin around and see her before she could get to you.

She eventually followed you to your dorm, coming up the stairs right as you shut the door. Her breathing was strained, and her face was slightly flushed with color from moving so fast. She slowly approached your door, apprehensive and suddenly nervous for the first time in her life.

What should she say to you? How should she speak? Should she be defensive? Or should she just confess her own feelings and see how you react? The consequences of all the outcomes were dreadful in her mind, but she had no other option than talking to you.

So she did what she does best, lost all expression from her face, sucked in a deep, and knocked on your door. She waited an antagonizingly long moment before stepping backwards when the lock clicked.

The door swung open, revealing you in black sweatpants, a white tank top, and still looking as depressed as you were during dinner. You froze when your eyes locked with Wednesday, your lips parting and eyes widening when you realized who was in front of you.

You both stood there for a moment, the world seeming to stop while you stared at each other. Wednesday was waiting for you to move or speak, while you were thinking the same.

“Can-.” Wednesday swallowed, clearing her throat, “Can I come in?”

You closed your mouth, eyeing around behind her, and nodded. She walked past you, turning when you closed the door and locked it. Her eyes scanned all over your walls, taking in the movie posters and tapestries that you had taped up. She awkwardly placed her bag at the foot of your bed, choosing to sit on the end of it while watching you move around and clean.

“Y/N.” Wednesday said, slightly irritated with how you were trying to ignore her with doing a spontaneous house-keeping.

“Yeah?” You replied timidly, still sweeping over by your closet.

“Come here.” She requested softly, patting the spot next to her.

You gulped, your shoulders tensing before you dropped the broom and sulked over to her. You plopped down next to her, leaning back until you laid flat on the mattress while she sat next to you.

“I read your letter.” Wednesday said after a moment of silence, “It was…passionate.”

“Oh my god just say you felt uncomfortable.” You groaned, putting your hands on your face.

Wednesday paused, letting you ramble and complain about the incidents from yesterday’s lunch fiasco. She listened until she had enough, slamming her hand onto your thigh to silence you.

“I actually found your confession to be quite exceptionally written for someone like you.” She murmured, her thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, “You should consider a writing class.”

You eyed her warily, skeptical of her words. Slowly, you sat up, trying your best to not cause her to move her hand, “You really think so?”

“Yes, and I also have some of my own things to confess…” The ravenette said, tearing her eyes away from yours to look at the floor.

You placed your hand on top of hers, a silent encouragement to speak her mind.

“I have realized that I myself have my own feelings I need to share.” Wednesday started, her hand twitching under yours, “It has come to my attention that I have gained something called a “crush” on you-.”

Her sentence was interrupted with lips crashing into her own, salty but soft and welcoming with warmth. She instantly reciprocated, her hands sliding around you neck while yours grabbed at her waist.

Her lips were plump and tasty to you, flavored like black cherries and stale burgundy lipstick from this morning. You pulled at her, guiding her into your lap so you could kiss her more properly. Her tongue slid against yours, a small whimper passing through your mouth and into hers from her hand scratching at your neck.

You soon parted for air, giggling when she chased you. She huffed, but sighed in satisfaction when you tucked your face into her neck, pressing a few kisses there that made her stomach all fluttery.

“Your heart is beating super fast.” You noted, hugging her closer when her fingers wound into your hair, “Do I make you that flustered-?”

“Be quiet.” She whispered, smirking when she heard you purring from her fingers scratching your scalp.

You complied, leaning back with her in your arms when she pushed you slightly. She murmured soft praises to you, guiding you into a deep sleep that you so desperately needed.

“Sleep Y/N.” She cooed in your ear, humming when your eyes fluttered shut, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You felt your brain drift off into slumber, a smile etched on your face while you held the girl of your dreams.

What wonderful bliss…

——————

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danzaloreley · 1 year

Text

Calm Storm

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x harpy!Reader

Summary: Secret hideouts

Warning: None

A storm was to pass through, the sky was darkened by the second. There weren’t any chirping birds early in the morning and that pleased the pigtailed girl waking up. A silent bliss interrupted by Enid’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Wednesday sat up in alert looking for an intruder only to see her girlfriend cackling as she perched on top of the blonde’s headboard.

“What are you doing?!” Enid shrieked while throwing pillows at the harpy. “I’m just waiting for my sweetheart. We gonna have a day for just us.” “Never call me that again.” the dark hair girl grimaced and stood up to get ready. “How long have you been there? Whyyy Y/N?” “Hour and a half give or take. Thing has been tickling your foot, but all that managed to do was make you growl. And Wednesday is never fazed so” the afformentioned hand scurried off to Wednesday’s bed. “Thing, you betrayed me.” the blonde put a hand to her chest and gawked with faux indignation.

“If you’re through with Enid’s morning torment I would ask that you wait for me out by the gates, mon cher.” the harpy turned to her lover and swiftly left with a beaming smile, not before stealing a kiss from her.

Wednesday saw the growing smirk on her roommate. “Stop it.”

The howling of the wind and swaying of branches brought peace as you both walked. You had led Wednesday deep into the woods, the trees becoming thicker, large roots protruding from the ground. The canopy obscured most of the sky plunging into darkness. Both stopped infront of a giant tree before you turned around holding the girl’s hand.

“Is this where you have planned my demise, uccello rapace?” Wednesday had her usual stoic expression, but there was a soft smile on the edge of her lips.

“If I was to come up with a way, I would hope to think of something better then a murder in the woods. Pretty basic.” your hand held her by the back of the neck while the other held her close to you around her waist. A wicked grin on your face before-

Whoosh

Without warning you flew to the top of a strong sturdy branch. Wednesday’s hair tussled and angry look your way. “You should consider yourself lucky I’m not strangling you right now.” you walked her back carefully to the trunk with a sultry look. “You know that I’m not against it one bit. Getting down would be hard though and to think I was sharing my hideaway.” she tilted her head asking for elaboration while you put on the enchanted ring to make the wings meld and just shoved the trunk behind her forcefully.

There was a carved hole and inside lay a nest. It was arranged with hay, twigs, yarn, ribbons and on the edges vertebraes and skulls of a menagerie of small creatures adorned it. There were blankets and pillows for their comfort and scattered black feathers. Some books, and crumpled paper in a corner.

“It’s not much, but this is where I go when I’m overwhelmed. I enjoy the solitude in it.” the smaller woman sat cross legged and took it all in. Her love’s sanctum and she was sharing it so willingly. “Cozy. How long did it take to carve in?” You secured the entrance as the rain picked up.

“Hm. Well, I spent every day here last year. Safe and unaware of the going-ons of a certain little detective.” you quipped sitting down beside her.

“I’m glad that you were not involved.”

Only a few words that moved your heart immensely. The way her gaze fixated on you, the softness that was reserved for you alone. “If any harm comes to you in a such a way again, know that I will destroy Jericho without remorse.”

There were so many emotions swirling together, but the most prominent the devotion and love for one another. Wednesday slowly straddled the girl’s hips without breaking eye contact. The movements were slow, tentative as she leaned to capture your lips.

Wednesday Addams was feared for the destruction and coldness same as the storm. Wednesday Addams was not soft, vulnerable or delicate, but as the stormed raged outside, she became it all for you.

#wednesday series #wednesday adams #wednesday fanfic #wednesday (2022)#wednesday addams #wednesday fic #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader

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wednesdaysgun · 1 year

Text

snow is fallin, all around you (wednesday x tyler)

Tyler’s mother had loved Christmas, always forced his excitable young self and his grouchy father out into the snow to play for hours on end. One of the rare times he’d seen his father truly smile, playing with him and his mother as snowflakes fell. But now those memories washed over him like a bucket of ice water, drowning any warm feelings that he may have felt. Christmas was a time of dread in the Galpin household, his father bought him presents that he would pretend to enjoy out of sympathy, which would then never be touched again after Boxing Day. They’d sit there in silence as ill-fitting Christmas music played over a shitty stereo, his father drinking as Tyler looked at the pictures on the wall for a way out. Morticia and Gomez’ invitation to the Addam’s Estate for the winter came at the most excellent time. His father had been cold, excuse the pun, since the investigation was closed and he had been protected from the authorities. Maybe his son committing such atrocities, or even him having to go against his own law book, had been enough for him to somewhat disown Tyler in his mind. Let alone the sheriff’s distaste for a certain black-haired beauty that may or may not have been his new master.

So, he went to the Addams’. For a family so backwards in the most eccentric way, their celebration was truly wonderful. Seeing Wednesday’s parents under the mistletoe, watching Pugsley wrap fairy lights around Thing so hard he lost circulation on his index. Even Wednesday got into the spirit for her family. “Christmas is the celebration of false religion and commercialism. Nothing says Happy Birthday to God like buying out the Christmas decoration section at Walmart, or making silly little gingerbread men you’re bound to decapitate. I’d simply rather cut out the middle man, the middle man being Jesus, and decapitate the Ginger bastards on my own time.” Wednesday ranted, pacing back and forth. Tyler simply watched this outcry occur, noting this may have been the most she had ever spoken at one interval. Enid would’ve piped up if she’d been there, stepping in to at least try and defend the Christmas Spirit that laid dormant in her until November. Tyler hoped it was Wednesday becoming comfortable around him, but he assumed she simply really hated the Holidays. Probably as she was destined to return home, without him.

Then seeing him turn up after Lurch had vanished for a few hours, collecting him from Jericho and landing him on the doorstep like a present from Krampus himself. Wednesday refused the smile that begged to take her lips, simply grabbing him and pulling him into the house and into her arms. He looked beautiful, his face and skin tinged red from the cold. She smelt intoxicating, he thought to himself in her embrace, like gasoline and cinnamon. He’d pay for not telling her Morticia’s plan sooner, but right now she just wanted to bask in his presence without thinking of homicide. Satan, he had changed her. She loved thinking of homicide at the holidays. Waking up in Wednesday’s coffin, he noticed the heat that radiated from her form. Curled up around him, like a black cat. Arms still crossed over her chest, like that would change regardless of her sleeping state. A soft grin formed over his face, bringing his digits to unplait her hair from the night before. He’d had much practise now with her iconic braids, how to gently untangle them so he could redo it soon after. Standing behind her as she watched him in the mirror, instructing him what part of hair needed to go where. He got the hang of it, a self-proclaimed quick learner when it came to her commands. Nothing got her more than watching him focusing so heavily on her hair, then seeing his head duck to her neck, nipping and biting in a way that makes her positively shudder. She wakes up at his fingers grazing her scalp, and as soon as her eyes open to meet his he is back at square one again. Even the Hyde is humming in content, his Master looking up at him. The Hyde felt protected, safe. All because of the small little human.

“Morning, monster.” He said affectionately, voice still dripping with sleep. It was a low rumble in his chest, next to his love’s ear. Tyler felt her shift at the nickname, making him feel somewhat more secure. “Morning.” Wednesday replies curtly, still not breaking the eye contact. She still couldn’t bring herself to call him a nickname, blaming the PTSD from her parents. His hands run through her long hair, coming up to rest behind her nack and cradle her face. Giving her a soft kiss, both their hearts skip the same beat. Suddenly, the door to Wednesday’s childhood room breaks open. Uncle Fester and Pugsley run in, babbling excitedly as their heavy footsteps reverberate through the wood of the coffin. Tyler jumps. Wednesday hides a grin. “Do you mind? Pugsley, if you forget your manners again when coming in here I will not hesitate to reteach you.” The little boy grinned at the thought. He’d missed their waterboarding sessions while she was away. “Excuse the intrusion, stormcloud!” Fester booms, “It’s snowing and the little blister wanted you and Tyler to play.” Play? Who does Pugsley think his sister is, defective? Before a word can come from her lips to send the two on their way, Tyler pipes up with a look Wednesday had not yet seen in his eyes. “It’s snowing?” He questions Pugsley, all but vibrating with excitement. Tyler jumps to his feet from the coffin, leaving Wednesday feeling suddenly cold, and runs to the windows. Her brother and her boyfriend rip either windows’ curtains apart, pulling a hiss from Wednesday at the sudden light in the room. So many distractions at the Addams’ house, she noted. The three boys are jumping in excitement, and Wednesday’s heart does melt. Only a small bit. Her uncle and brother run to find Gomez and Morticia, leaving the two in the room alone once more. “I never knew you liked the snow so much,” Wednesday questioned. “It makes sense.” He truly was a little golden retriever, it should have made her stomach churn. Standing up and slinking her way to his standing dorm, she watches his stance reduce to fit hers. His cheeks reddened in a way she adored, so sweetly. “Our family used to be really big on Christmas.” She didn’t need to know how deep the scar ran. “I missed it, is all.” Understatement of the year, and she can see it. Of course she can, she can feel it. Every-time he lies or tells a half-truth, she gets it out of him in record time. Wednesday chose not to pry for once, instead wrapping her arms around his waist and watching him fully sink into her form. Feeling his warmth once again. “It just so happens that your new family is just as big on Christmas,” Tylers eyes lit up, “So you make me a coffee, we’ll get ready, and I’ll run you through the rules of the Addams Graveyard Snow Fight.” She instructed. He litters small pecks all over her face and she tries desperately not to let the skin flush. Her efforts are in vain. “Yes Wednesday.” He smiles, eyes flashing a second of golden yellow at the command. And for a second, just a small one, Tyler feels at home again. In this strange house that creaks like its breathing, with his girlfriend who has slowly let the ice of her exterior melt for him. It’s not what he was used to, but god was it needed.

“Good boy.” The nickname awakes death moths in his stomach, clawing their way through the skin. Tyler smirks, simply scooping the smaller being into his arms and running through the house. Wednesday protests, hitting his chest and demanding to be let down, but he just laughs. Carrying her bridal style through the family home’s twisting halls, past her parents room. The elder couple do not say a word, sharing a look they know all too well. Their little storm cloud has found her thunder.

#wednesday x tyler #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #tyler galpin #fester adams #pugsley addams #christmas fic because fuck you

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