Too Sharp To Touch Pt. 1

Too Sharp to Touch pt. 1

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: slight language

Summary: After getting into another fight, Wednesday has no choice but to come and get you.

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

It was the second time this month, and you had somehow gotten into another fight?

At this point, Wednesday was beginning to think that you wanted another detention.

She had been on her way to drop off her botany assignment, finished early as usual, stopped by a familiar tap on the shoulder from Thing. 

Her eyes flicked to her shoulder, voice hinting at irritation

“What is it now?”

Thing signed a couple times, and Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, a frustrated sigh escaping her.

“Y/N is fighting…again?”

Thing responded with a couple more taps, and she closed her eyes, summoning what patience she’d be able to have for you right now.

“She isn’t my problem, Thing. I have more important matters than deterring yet another trivial dogfight.”

Thing tapped again, growing impatient, almost tumbling from her shoulder when she halted abruptly.

“I do not care for Y/N, Thing, I merely keep Enid from going hysterical over her well-deserved wounds due to her lack of fighting skills.” -she fixed the hand with a cold glare - “Suggest something like that again and I will be locking you out of the dorm again.”

The hand stubbornly continued to sign, causing the raven’s eyes to narrow.

“I agree that Y/N lacks self-control but that does not mean I shall be taking responsibility for it.”

Wednesday began walking again, trying to ignore the ever-frequent tapping on her shoulder, that of which was becoming harder and more insistent.

You couldn’t be that hurt yet. You were tough (though she’d never admit it to you or anyone else). Despite this…she couldn’t ignore the fact that your abysmal fighting skills would indefinitely cause yet another concussion. She knew that you’d never let her or anyone else hear the end of it if you were walking around for the next couple of weeks with a head injury, complaining and whining annoyingly as you always did, and she did not have the patience to go through that again. 

Wednesday also knew, irritatingly, that you would not listen to Enid, no matter what her roommate attempted to persuade you with; as close as you two were you tended to be infuriatingly stubborn at times, and now seemed to be one of them.

She turned and glared darkly at Thing, who was still tapping away insistently.

“This is the last time, and I will be doing it solely keep our sanity intact. Say otherwise and I will not hesitate to follow through on my threats.”

She was most certainly not doing this because she was concerned for your safety, which you obviously had no personal regard for. 

If she was lucky she’d at least get to see some bloodshed.

As expected, upon entering the quad, there you were, beside the fountain, locked in a fight with a boy almost twice your size; obviously another werewolf by the size of him, and the untamed hair that nearly every male werewolf possessed.

Enid was among the couple of students watching, glaring at you as she looked for an opportunity to step in and pull you away; not that Wednesday thought you’d listen to her.

Wednesday noted disapprovingly that your hits were clumsy; surely this wasn’t the best you could do? She continued to watch as you swung left when you should’ve swung right, and caught a blow to the side of your stomach, rolling her eyes in disgust.

other students looked on with concern, worry, or perhaps exasperation, whereas Wednesday watched as her roommate tried desperately to pull you away from her opponent, the blonde’s eyebrows furrowing with frustration as her attempts were repeatedly proved useless, the faintest of smirks hinting at Wednesday’s lips as she watched her try and persuade you away from the fight, even though your eyes were alive with adrenaline, and what she thought to be a hint of sadism, blood dripping from your nose, and a wonderfully nasty bruise beginning to form on your cheek. Blood could look good on anyone, she observed, somehow even on you.

After about five minutes of what was clearly a pathetic attempt at fighting on your end, she let out a sigh of frustration and swiftly began moving through the quad toward you, muttering under her breath. With one hand she neatly grabbed your wrist and with enough force neatly yanked you backward, placing her heel firmly behind yours, which caused you to trip backward and onto the ground.

Ignoring your look of indignance and surprise, she stepped forward and dodged a swipe from your opponent, kicking out into his stomach and sending him reeling backward, glaring at him so fiercely that he didn’t dare try and fight back.

Turning to you, she fixed you with an equally cold glare, grabbing your wrist once more and pulling you up to your feet. Her eyes darted to the blood dripping from your nose, and the growing bruise on your face, and an irritated sigh escaped her. “What was it this time?”

“He wolf-whistled me,” your response was breathless through your pants, as the faint animalistic glow began to leave your eyes, signaling you were beginning to calm down.

“So you decided to fight him?” the raven raised an eyebrow, annoyed - “The least you could do is fight decently.”

You frowned slightly and began to respond before you were interrupted by Enid approaching, a visible frown of exasperation, annoyance, and concern on her face. Wednesday released your wrist, fixing you with that same cold glare before leaving you with Enid and exiting the quad, returning to her original task.

It was about ten or fifteen minutes later when Wednesday returned from the greenhouse, and when she opened the door to her dorm found you on Enid’s bed, with Enid tending to your wounds..

Ignoring both of you, she sat down at her desk, placing a sheet of paper in her typewriter. As she began typing, her eyes remained locked on the words being type, although unfortunately she couldn’t drown out your occasional grumbles or huffs. 

*Smack*

“Ow! Enid, what the hell?!”

“Stop squirming!”

Wednesday continued typing, but the sound of your well-deserved little smack from Enid did bring a slightly sadistic hint of a smirk to her lips as she worked, though your already irritating little complaints were becoming more and more annoying.

“Silence would be appreciated,” she remarked coldly, still typing. 

“You’re not going to pay any attention to me?” your voice came out slightly congested; clearly the bloody nose was catching up to you.

*smack*

“I said hold still!”

Wednesday couldn’t help rolling her eyes, continuing to type. The steady hum of her typewriter became more of her focus as she honed in on the sound of it rather than your grumbles; although she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed hearing your soft winces of pain every now and then.

As she tore one of the finished pages carefully from the typewriter and aligning it in the box containing her novel, you complained.

“You’re taking too long on purpose.”

Enid responded with a hint of impatience.

“Then stop wriggling so much! It’s like I’m bandaging a child instead of a damn werewolf.”

“I can do it myself, you know.”

“No, you can’t. If you were in charge here you’d just “let it heal on it’s own” and do nothing. Now shut up and let me work, I’m almost done.”

Wednesday exhaled through her nose; she most definitely did not want to help, but she needed you out of the room so she could focus, and Enid was taking a ridiculously long amount of time to finish what could’ve been done in five minutes.

Standing stiffly and pushing away from her desk, she walked over to Enid’s side, approaching you on the bed; upon closer examination, the bruise on your cheek was beginning to swell, though luckily the bleeding in your nose had stopped. Rolling her eyes, she glanced at Enid, raising an eyebrow.

“You didn’t consider getting an icepack?”

The blonde looked back up at her with a small, indignant frown - “it took me this long just to get Y/N’s nose to stop bleeding.”

Wednesday gazed over at you, eyes narrowing slightly as she sighed

“Thing, go retrieve an icepack from the cafeteria.”

The faint scuttling of the hand obeying her command gave her the confirmation to move on, and she reached out, touching your bruise firmly but carefully, causing you to wince and pull away.

“Stop moving, you’re acting like a child. Even Enid is tougher than you,” she remarked, causing a huff of annoyance from the blonde. “If you hadn’t been fighting in the first place this wouldn’t even be happening.”

Her eyes briefly flicked up from your bruise to your eyes as you responded

“It’s not my fault. He started it.”

“Do I even have to ask?” She muttered, eyes returning to examining the bruise, which, although it was swollen didn’t look too serious. “He was nearly three sizes bigger than you; the least you could do is choose an appropriate opponent.”

“I’d call it brave, taking on a guy that size and leaving him with the marks that I did.”

“Foolish, more like.”

You rolled your eyes, and her lip curled into the faintest of smirks. Thing returned promptly, balancing an icepack on top of him as he hopped atop the bed. Nodding once in thanks, she took it and wrapped it in a handtowel that Enid had prepared, handing it to you and watching with another sigh as you pressed it your cheek.

“Y/N, you gotta stop getting into these fights. Learn to control yourself,” Enid said with a disapproving frown, causing you to scrunch up your eyes with indignance,

“I do control myself.”

“Wrong.” Wednesday glared at you. “You’re impulsive.”

You glared right back up at her. Bold of you. “So are you.”

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, “I’m starting to believe you want to become a rug.”

“I would make a lovely rug,” you muttered, eyes darting away. Good. 

You got to your feet, still holding the icepack in your hand, and looked down at Enid. 

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll try and ‘control myself’, better in the future, okay?”

Enid looked back up at you and her expression softened, as usual. She couldn’t stay mad at you for long. “Good. I don’t want you dying on me. Wolves gotta stick together, y’know?”

Wednesday could feel herself getting nauseous at the horrible cliche, and she frowned, eyes narrowing. “Just leave; I have work to do.”

You turned, a small smirk on your face as you mock-saluted, turning on your heel. “See you later, Dr. Addams.”

Rolling her eyes, Wednesday stared at the door for a moment, arms folded, before she noticed Enid with a huge smirk on her face, similar to yours. Raising an eyebrow, she frowned slightly, “what?”

“Nothing,” she said in her dreadfully sing-song tone, which the raven chose to ignore as she sat back down at her desk, returning to her novel, eyebrows furled in annoyance as it took her a moment to wipe the image of you covered in both your and your opponent’s blood from her mind. Odd. Blood really did look good on anyone.

—————

pt.2 here!

GO VOTE YOU GUYS 🥺

New Wednesday x Werewolf Reader fic NEEDS A NAME

Bad Mood

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: slightly ooc Wednesday?? angst - fluff, (not proofread I just threw it together 😭)

Summary: Wednesday has trouble figuring out your bad mood and decides to take it into her own hands

Pairings: Wednesday x GN!Reader

Wednesday was frustrated, to say the least. Though she would never vocally express her irritations towards you, you were surely a dilemma, and the fact that she was having trouble solving the puzzle that was you at the moment was most definitely the issue.

You had been moping all day, acting uncharacteristically sulky and closed off. Wednesday would’ve almost liked it if she wasn’t so put off by your sudden change of behavior. Sulking didn’t look good on you, she observed, as you sat beside her during class, not paying attention and absentmindedly twirling a pencil between your thumbs, the wood surprisingly close to splintering as you did so.

No, you had not given any reasoning to why you were feeling this way, and Wednesday did not like the sneaking suspicion that she might have had something to do with it. Though she couldn’t recall ever explicitly saying or doing anything to make you upset she knew that she was most certainly not one to know much about any sort of complex emotional drama, and therefore she was left outside of the tangled barbwire that was your emotions. Why must you be so confusing? Puzzles were supposed to be enjoyable to solve, not frustrating.

Wednesday let you be most of the day, silently hoping some time would improve your mood but you remained either irritable and snappy or moody and quiet, practically telling off Xavier when he came late to class and delayed it about ten minutes. Although the Addams had to admit that she found a sort of amusement in seeing you scold someone, it wasn’t followed by the playful roll of your eyes that you usually gave someone to indicate you were joking. Clearly something had upset you and she was getting increasingly frustrated.

The raven tried easing your irritably by placing a cold hand on your warm thigh, trying to practice the gentle rubs that she typically knew you liked, and though you stiffened as usual under her touch it did nothing to soften your mood as your eyes darkly flitted away.

But that didn’t worry her. Wednesday wasn’t used to being worried, let alone emotions themselves. To the Addams, emotions were a tangled spiderweb that once trapped in became a struggle to navigate, distracting one from common sense and rationality. Yet, she still felt the uncomfortable prickling of sickening worry in her chest when she saw you actually tear up. And it was almost without reason. Nobody had spoken to you unkindly or done anything physically immoral, yet your eyes glistened and you pulled your hood over your head, dark eyes disappearing behind its frame as you did so. You were crying? Wednesday briefly wondered whether or not she’d seen you cry before, most certainly she hadn’t without explicable reason.

Your quiet sniffles seemed to be the only thing her brain would allow her to hear amidst the sound of students around you.

Instantly she gripped your wrist gently yet firmly, pulling you into a dark corner in the hall as she searched for your eyes under the hood. That prickle in her chest started to scratch as you huffed out stiffly, in a voice close to cracking. “What is it?”

Wednesday silently brought her hand up to your hood, pulling it down carefully to see your dark eyes swimming in tears, and she felt her voice soften just slightly at the sight of them as she murmured, “I wish to know what has been bothering you throughout the day. You’ve been distant and irritable.” You tried to look away but she gently pulled your chin back to look at her, feeling you shake under her grasp. “Cara Mia, I would like to know whether or not I have been the source of your…” the Addams struggled for the right word. “Current emotional status.”

You shook your head weakly. God, she could tell you were fragile. It was as if the slightest poke could set you off, and she knew she had to tread carefully. Her brain raced to remember everything Enid had taught her on… comfort. The idea was a personal ick but with you she would make an exception. “Would you like to leave?” Your weak nod was all the confirmation she needed as she laced her pinky into yours to subtly pull you through the crowd. God, she was disgusted by pda but you weakened her, and she despised you for it.

In the privacy of her dorm, the gentle rain slapping against the large window, she watched as you shakily exhaled, clearly fighting off your tears as you closed your eyes and struggled to speak. “Today has just…been… a lot. It’s- I- I can’t-“ your voice finally cracked slightly.

Wednesday stood opposite you for a moment, in thought as the scratching of worry in her heart began to pulsate into more of a pain. Not a pleasant pain that she usually experienced, rather a more unpleasant one at the sight of the tear that fell from your eye, hitting the floorboards and disappearing. She felt as if she’d always remember that oddly specific place on the floor from now on.

Stepping forwards she shoved aside all of her disgust and apathy for touch and wrapped her cold arms around your waist to pull you in, your head falling atop of yours as she muttered into your neck, “from what I do know about emotions I have heard that it is a rather healthy way to deal with them by crying.” 

As if on cue from the touch and soft words she felt you slowly fall apart, quietly trembling as you cried silently, burying your face into her hair that she silently noted to wash later to get any snot out of.

She slowly brought you down to the floor with her, letting you cry as she tried her best to comfort you, tracing small patterns on your collarbone and neck, giving you small and delicate kisses here and there as to show that she was here with you. When your sobs began to ease she felt your weight press against her more, and she quickly put together that you were exhausted. She shushed you softly, letting you burrow into her as much as you needed. God, you were so warm, it was as if you were thawing the ice that she had worked so hard to freeze. 

Although still not inclined to show any major affection, she did press a small cold kiss to your temple, letting you rest in her arms as your head shifted into your lap and her hand threaded its way into your hair, slowly and softly stroking in an effort to calm you down, finally the nagging confusion and frustration easing as you both fell into a calm, the rain providing a soothing atmosphere. 

Perhaps Enid’s teachings had paid off.

Too Sharp to Touch pt.4

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Slight language, brief descriptions of blood

Summary: Late to fighting practice, Wednesday tries to find you

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

You were late.

What kind of ignorant fool could somehow be late to a meeting that they themselves had worked so hard to arrange? Of course, you, of all people, would be that fool.

Wednesday somehow found herself unsurprised. 

A glance at the clock mounted high above the door in the fencing hall would show that you were late. Half an hour late. Wednesday’s lips pulled into an irritated frown as she paced the wooden floors, her footsteps echoing loudly throughout the room as she did so. Wednesday, of course, was one who enjoyed silence, welcomed it even, always particular to the peaceful atmosphere of a wonderfully and eerily quiet room. 

The ticking of the clock accompanied the echoes of her footsteps as she continued to pace, occasionally glancing at the door or the windows, waiting for your arrival. Not hoping. Waiting. 

 The fact that you were supposed to be here and you weren’t was leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She hated the way that you could make her somehow unsatisfied with such a gloomy situation; what had you poisoned her with?

You had to have done something to her, surely. Consulted with Enid and Thing and injected her with a mind-altering fluid in her sleep. Slipped something into her coffee mug when she wasn’t looking. Cursed her with an ancient spell book discovered in the darkest reaches of the Nightshade library.

Wednesday was positive that you had done something to her, and she was not happy about it.

She continued to pace, frustration and, though she wouldn’t admit it, confusion. Where were you? Wasn’t this a priority to you? You had seemed so desperate to fight… you had offered her those flowers…

No. She was not going to think about the flowers right now.

The tip of her blade dropped slowly as she sighed, frustrated, and pulled the fencing helmet off of her head, tucking it under an arm as she fixed her messy bangs stuck to her forehead, a tinge of annoyance trickling through her as she arranged them once more.

If you had actually arrived on time like you’d said you would, she would’ve been able to follow through on her plans of terrifying you the second you stepped foot in the hall, scheming to jump you by the doorway with the tip of her blade pressed to your neck, to watch the thin line of blood she would be lucky enough to draw.

It would’ve been lovely to see some trace of fear in your eyes for once. Even a little. She would live for it. Especially if she could be the cause of it; she craved that moment.

But no, you just had to go and ruin her fun.

Neatly arranging her fencing gear back into her locker, that of which she closed and locked, Wednesday turned and promptly exited the dark and now empty fencing hall heading up the stairs and toward your dorm, boots clomping in the halls as the occasional group of students swerved to avoid her as she ducked into Dionysus hall, the one that you occupied.

The normally busy hallway was quieter than usual, most students already headed out for the weekend or in town for the evening, which was, admittedly, appreciated, but Wednesday was more focused on your whereabouts than the volume of the hall.

The raven didn’t even hesitate at your dorm door, opening it and storming inside as she looked around. On quick inspection she promptly discovered that you were nowhere to be found, surprisingly. She had expected you to be here, listening to music, drawing, or whatever you did in your free time, which she most definitely did not have memorized. Your bed, as usual, was messy. Empty. Your deskspace, equally messy and scattered with art supplies and assignments. Empty. The small space under the bed she’d discovered that you yet had to tell her about? Empty. 

Where were you?

Sighing in annoyance, Wednesday whirled around and exited your dorm, closing the door carefully behind her as she set off for the quad, determined to find you. You were not getting away that easily.

The student population increased dramatically as the goth entered the quad, eyes scrunching slightly at the sudden lack of darkness.

The quad was lit well with string lights illuminating the space as a handful of students lingered around, chatting and laughing and mingling amongst one another - a nauseatingly cheerful scene. Wednesday scanned the small crowd carefully, eyeing each person with a precise eye. You were quite the social student, so she expected you to be here, laughing and goofing off as you typically did when you could be avoiding work.

But, as she observed the students, not seeing you with any of your friends, she realized that no, you were not here. Frowning, Wednesday approached Xavier, who was, as usual, buried in a sketchbook at one of the tables, scribbling away. 

Stopping in front of him, she waited impatiently for the psychic to notice her. After a couple minutes, she realized he was too absorbed in his work and huffed, delivering a rough kick to his shin to make him look at her, arms crossing over her chest as she glared at him.

“Hello to you too, Wednesday,” Xavier groaned, rubbing his now-sore shin as he looked up at the raven, rolling his eyes. “What do you w-“

Wednesday didn’t even let him finish his sentence, cutting him off - “Y/N. Where is she?”

The psychic sighed and returned to sketching as he muttered, “she’s in the shed, last I saw her. She was working on some sort of art project I left her with. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She didn’t mention any plans that she had tonight?” Wednesday’s eyebrows furled. 

“Oh, right, Y/N couldn’t stop talking about how you two were going to fight tonight. Sounded like a death wish to me,” the psychic chuckled, returning to sketching. 

Sighing with irritation, Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest, sighing and turning away without thanking him, already on her way into the woods for the second time that week; you were really trying her patience, weren’t you? 

The incessant sounds of the academy faded into the background as the sound of faint birdsong and the whistling of wind through the trees welcomed her, and Wednesday felt herself relax as she embarked.

The faint light of Xavier’s shed in the woods led her way as she stepped through the wooded area, easily reaching the doors at the pace she was going, completely unbothered by the sounds of the woods at night as she knocked on the door once. Twice. Three times. No response. 

Frowning, Wednesday abruptly opened the door, inviting herself in as she looked around the shed; the lightbulb was illuminating the place as well as it usually did, coloring the shed a faint yellow as the paintings on the wall were suspended in shadow; the vibe overall was a more moody one that she found herself partial to.

She wouldn’t have minded it if she wasn’t so annoyed with you right now. She took a moment to look around; the shed wasn’t that big. You had to be in here somewhere. Passing by Xavier’s most recent canvas, she glanced at your usual spot; a paint splattered stool facing a large canvas, which, this time, was somewhat painted.

In the center of the canvas was a rough painting of a stag, head proudly raised, it's fine eyes peering out of the canvas as if observing for danger, scanning its surroundings. Wednesday took a moment to raise her hand to touch the dark paint strokes, running her fingers down the image as she took in the messy style you had adopted in the piece. 

And atop it all, one broad, dark red stroke slashing across the face of the stag, dripping down to the bottom of the canvas, in what she thought to be blood

What you had done… she couldn’t help but find the darkness you had perfectly captured in the creature’s eyes…impressive. You did have some talent.

And, upon bringing herself closer, she could tell from the consistency of the dried blood that you had, in fact, used real blood; it looked like the blood she had used on you the week prior for her bloodstain analysis in the woods.

Dragging her eyes away from the painting, Wednesday noticed movement in the corner of her vision, slowly turning to see what it was as her eyes fell under one of the tables in the back

And there you were.

In the darkest corner of the room, partially hidden by large canvases and other tables full of art supplies, you were asleep on a couple of blankets piled on the floor, practically buried out of sight. Soft breaths escapes your mouth as you let out a small incoherent mumble.

Wednesday’s step faltered slightly.

Never once had she seen you asleep. Not that she wanted to, no. But you were always the type to be snarky, retorting her insults and cracking jokes of your own instead of genuinely vulnerable. 

And now, here you were, curled up in a pile of blankets under a table in a shed, completely forgotten about what you had been so excited to do.

Wednesday watched you for a moment.

And then another.

Studying every inch of you. The way your chest barely rose and fell with every breath you took. The way your eyes fluttered as if you were dreaming. The way your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you dug yourself deeper into your nest of blankets, as if in a dream…

Wednesday considered it to be… almost… adorable.

What had you done to her? Here she was, staring at you like a nauseatingly obsessed teenager, thinking…affectionate thoughts toward you? Wednesday didn’t know what the demons of hell had found in her that was unworthy, but she was going to figure it out before she turned into some disgusting version of her mother.

To snap herself out of it the raven edged her way through the tables, stopping at you and crouching down on her knees to be at your level as her dark eyes flickered over you before she reached out and gave your ear a light flick. Nothing too hard, and not because she knew your ears were sensitive, merely because she didn’t want you to wake up in pain, although you were missing out - waking up in pain truly was a wonderful feeling.

You were awake almost instantly; Wednesday wasn’t surprised as you sat up straight and banged your head on the bottom of the table, groaning and hand lifting to rub the sore spot.

“What the hell…Wednesday?”

Wednesday huffed and straightened, folding her arms as she glared down at you, not giving you your answer as she waited for you to figure it out yourself.

You took a moment before realizing the situation, and Wednesday had to suppress a smirk at the look of surprise and frustration on your face as you shuffled out of the small space, straightening and stretching with what she thought to be a very childish pout.

“Goddamnit, Wednesday, I’m sorry for missing it, I was painting with Xavier and I fell asleep” - you glanced out the window at the dark sky - “look, I’ll make it up to y-“

You were cut off as Wednesday sighed and grabbed your wrist, yanking you backward and watching you stumble. As you fought for balance she firmly wedged her heel behind yours, causing you to trip and take a tumble to the floor, the shed rattling with the impact of you hitting the ground.

“What the hell?” You panted a little bit, pushing yourself up by the palms of your hands as you glared up at her. “What did I do?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest and glared right back at you as she deadpanned.

“You said you wanted to learn to fight. Get up.”

The raven watched as you stumbled to your feet and without hesitation she hooked her leg around yours and yanked, watching in satisfaction as you crashed to the ground again, a couple pencils hitting the floor along with you.

“I wasn’t ready,” you complain as you struggle back upright again, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you let out a small whine.

“The point isn’t being ready, Y/N,” Wednesday rolled her eyes as she studied you. “As a werewolf you have heightened senses. Put it to your advantage.”

Without warning, Wednesday stepped forward, taking the offensive as she kicked out toward your stomach. She felt a tinge of satisfaction when your hands caught her boot, pushing her away, but she wasn’t done yet.

She ducked your swing, stepping behind you and reaching up to your neck, touching it lightly and smirking when she saw you freeze. Her fingers lightly brushed the small patch of fur you had on the back of your neck, just under your head. 

“If your opponent knows about your weak spot they will take advantage of it.” She released you, watching you relax. “Do not let anyone touch it.”

As you turned to face her she scoffed slightly and gestured for you to strike first, deciding to take assessment of your offensive skills, which surely would be abysmal at best, if you were lucky; maybe you were right to come to her.

It was almost comical, the look of concentration on your face, and Wednesday was caught slightly off guard when you struck out with your foot. The raven dodged, getting out of the way in time, but your shoe did manage to graze her side as she did so. A flicker of focus in her eyes, Wednesday stepped under your arm, pushing herself against your back, forcing you to stumble forward.

Now that you were off balance she decided to test what she had just told you, reaching for your neck. She felt another glimmer of satisfaction as you dodged away immediately, ramming yourself against her stomach so that your weight and momentum was to your advantage, causing her to stumble backward a little bit. 

You were panting, definitely focused now as your eyes flickered up to meet hers, sparkling with pride at managing to unbalance her so quickly. Wednesday wasn’t too surprised, though. Sure, you were definitely a poor fighter, but you still had that werewolf fighting instinct, no matter how much you complained.

When you swiped again the raven merely stepped aside, smirking as your fist swung through the air. Before you could hit again she gave you one good shove, kicking the crook under your knee. You tumbled backward, hitting one of the canvas and tearing through it with a crash, art supplies flying through the air and adding to the new mess of the shed, a cloud of dust now rising into the air as you groaned.

As you sat up the mess of paintbrushes, acrylics, and torn canvas fell around you, and your jaw fell in shock before looking back up at Wednesday.

“Xavier’s gonna kill me.”

Wednesday smirked at your words, turning on her heel and shouldering her bag, already on her way out. She didn’t stop as she heard you exclaim from behind her, “you’re not gonna help me clean this up?” 

Both of you knew she wouldn’t.

“Consider this your payback for being late. Next time I won’t be so generous,” Wednesday tossed you a glare before opening the door of the shed and disappearing outside. She could hear another crash from inside the shed, as you tried to follow her, but she knew that you’d have to stay and clean the mess, otherwise risking losing your shed privileges completely.

It was completely fair, and Wednesday was willing to sit through your complaints about the paint that you had most definitely gotten on your clothes, throughout the week.

She felt a prickle in the collar of her sweater and paused, brow furrowing in annoyance as she reached around to try and find the source of what had been bothering her, pulling out a few tufts of your fur. The raven rolled her eyes with a scoff, shoving it into her pocket and heading back toward the academy.

—————

pt.5 here!

Down on my knees

Too Sharp to Touch pt.7

Word Count: 4.2k (I gotcha covered besties)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of guns, vomit, violence

Summary: After a long week of back and forth between you and Wednesday you have to go into the woods in search of your hidden textbooks.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

When you sat down at the dining hall for breakfast the first thing that happened before you even got to take a bite of your cereal was that what appeared to be a freshly-sharpened dagger was thrown with deadly accuracy straight at your shoulder. 

Of course, you were able to dodge it; you were a werewolf - you basically had spidey senses thanks to your heightened hearing and sense of awareness but you still practically jumped out of your seat as you did so, your eyes landing on the hunk of metal now embedded in the wooden support behind you. When you glanced at the exit to the dining hall for the culprit you saw nobody there. Though you knew exactly who it was.

Your week had been a living hell. Wednesday knew. Of course she had found out. You knew your acting had been shit. And you had been an idiot to think you weren’t going to pay.

You had started out your lovely morning the day before, awaking to a hissing sound in your dorm room. It was subtle, and definitely not something you noticed at first. You had sat up in your tangle of blankets and looked around with groggy eyes, checking your watch and looking out your window to try and estimate the time, trying to figure out what had woken you in the first place. You’d slid out of your bed, and that’s when you heard a sickening rattling sound from right under the bedframe, knowing enough from your time in the woods exactly what it was. 

You had performed what you personally thought to be a ninja skill level dodge, twisting on your heel in that new move Wednesday had shown you during lessons the other day, jumping out of the way and over onto the other side of the creature, grabbing the rattlesnake firmly behind the head while it thrashed about, hissing furiously and snapping at air. You had planned on disposing of it outside in the woods where it belonged but when it almost bit one of your fingers off you simply cracked it in half with a huff. 

Rumor was the teachers were horrified to discover a dead snake in the trash cans.

You knew who it was the second you had seen the snake anyways. It wasn’t like you had left your window open and a rattlesnake so happened to somehow slither up a two story building to slip inside, half a mile away from where most snakes inhabited the woods. 

No, you knew better than to think that.

And sure, you knew that you deserved this but you were never one to pass by some competition. 

You had gone to YouTube on a search for some things, and after a painfully long day of watching multiple tutorials, with the help of a newly vengeful Thing (still mad over being falsely accused), you managed to not only replace Wednesday’s cello strings with guitar strings but you also managed to un-tune it, screwing the knobs not to the point of breaking, just enough to annoy the Addams. Thing had reported detail by detail that night his dramatic recollection of Wednesday’s annoyance and slight confusion when she picked up her bow to play the cello and was met with the realization that not only was her instrument untuned but somehow replaced with the wrong kind of strings.

You knew it was suicidal but you loved it. 

After classes that same day you had headed back to your dorm to finish up a paper for tomorrow but when you sat down at your desk to start working, upon pulling open your drawer for your school supplies, not a single piece of paper or notebook was to be found. And instead, all that you saw were dog toys. The drawer was packed top to bottom with squeaky toys, tennis balls, and rawhide bones. You had been in surprise for a moment and honestly you thought it was a little funny, not really that offended. You’d been able to get rid of most of the toys, (you gave them to a thrifter in Jericho later on), but you did end up keeping one of them for yourself, though you didn’t tell anyone about it.

Your retaliation in response to the dog toy stunt was to put creamer in her coffee when you were sitting beside Wednesday at the study group, waiting giddily for the raven’s return from the shelves of the library. The goth had returned a few minutes later and sat down beside you at the desk, returning to her work. You had to wait a couple minutes before you saw her glance at her coffee to take a sip, and the look of disgust from the now sweet taste of what once was such a bitter coffee was quite enjoyable to you. Maybe you were a bit of a sadist, but you still had to pinch your inner thigh to keep yourself from giggling at the sight of the raven’s glare slowly shifting over to you. The rest of the group, if they’d noticed, would surely be confused but both you and the Addams knew exactly what was going on.

It honestly wasn’t too bad of a week now that you thought about it. Sure, you had to be on alert constantly but that was what your relationship with Wednesday typically consisted of. Just with a slight bit more murderous intent. Which, honestly, you didn’t mind. It felt good to be enjoying yourself, even if what you did consider ‘revenge’ was a little watered down compared to what Wednesday did. The only real time you had been in serious danger was yesterday.

You had been in botany class, doodling on your notes as you half-listened to the teacher, when you’d spotted a granola bar left discarded in the section under your desk, much to your relief. You hadn’t eaten much that day so it was a pretty damn lucky coincidence. You were completely unaware when Wednesday watched you eat the granola bar, eyes trained on your every move.

You’d been awake all night that night throwing up. Although the goth didn’t actually make an appearance that night you knew that Wednesday had tampered with the sealed granola bar you’d eaten, although when Thing arrived in your dorm with a bottle of water for you and some lame excuse that ‘it was his idea’, you had felt a little bit better. You had sent the hand back with a couple spare inks you had laying around as a thank you. That night overall had been somewhat of a trainwreck though. Only Wednesday Addams of all people could somehow tamper with a sealed granola bar. It was still puzzling to you how in the hell she’d managed to do that.

Not many students knew about the ongoing ‘war’, so you called it. It was a loose term and you didn’t take it very seriously. Enid and Thing knew, of course, and they just stepped back and let you two do whatever it was you were doing. As for the others…well…it was also funny to see their reactions. For example, when you were playing the game Mousetrap with Ajax, Bianca, and Divina in the quad the other weekend. It was your turn, and you’d accidentally set off the trap. Much to the others surprise the traps that’d been set up throughout the game were rigged, and when you turned the crank a small blade shot out from one of the plastic pieces, taking out a small chunk of flesh from your finger. It wasn’t deep but it still stung like a bitch and you had to go bandage your hand before you even considered playing the game again. A small compensation, though, was the look of horror and shock on the others’ face when the whole ordeal had occurred. Oddly enough that night you’d found a small tube of some sort of mystery cream on your bed, which, when smeared on your wound instantly took the pain away. You had no clue what was in it or where it’d come from.

So, today, you had to go and find where in the hell the vengeful Addams had put your school stuff. Although you had gotten all of those dog toys out of you way after a quick search of your dorm your textbooks were nowhere to be found, which, admittedly was a problem. Sure, you didn’t like to do schoolwork but it wasn’t like you didn’t need to do it. You were already late on a couple assignments so if you didn’t get your ass in gear you were going to be in trouble. You’d already looked in all the places you’d thought of but had come up dry, and you had no clues or context as to where they could be so you gave up and decided to just go to Wednesday and ask.

You knew that since it was early morning the Addams was awake. You had time before class to talk. Especially since you had just had a dagger practically thrown at your face. Well…your shoulder. Odd, considering you knew that a dagger in the shoulder definitely wouldn’t be a fatal wound. 

After yanking said dagger from the plank of wood it was embedded in, you carefully held it so you wouldn’t accidentally stab yourself as you walked quickly out of the dining hall, cereal left behind and uneaten. The hallways weren’t as crowded as usual due to the early morning so it wasn’t hard for you to manuever through them, headed for where you knew Wednesday was. The Addams always sat every morning in the quad with a cup of bitter coffee, either writing in one of her notebooks or reading. And when you entered the almost gray area when you eyes fell upon the familiar spot, there she was. 

The raven was seated stiffly on one of the benches by the wall, a book in hand and a cup of coffee at her side, still steaming and clearly fresh. She hadn’t been here long. And the second you stepped into the quad you didn’t miss her glance over in your direction. You had to stop yourself from starting to long as you shook your head and approached the goth, your eyes narrowed, huffing with frustration as you halted directly in front of her. Frustratingly enough, she didn’t make eye contact with you, purposefully ignoring you as she slowly and delicately turned a page in her book.

“Tell me where they are.”

“What a warm welcome,” Wednesday quipped with a raise of her eyebrow as her dark eyes never strayed from the pages. “It’s quite early for you to be awake. I expected worse of you.”

“Cut the shit and tell me where my books are, Addams.” You tapped your foot impatiently, silently debating whether or not to push her book away. “I don’t have all day.”

“Oh really?” Wednesday turned another page, perfectly manicured black nails lingering for a painfully long amount of time. “I assumed that you had an interest in playing games, Y/N. And though you might be somewhat adequate at playing your trivial…amusements on others, I, on the contrary, can assure you that you are inferior when it comes to being the subject of my dissatisfaction.” A hint of a smirk passed over her deadpan expression as she tilted her head slightly to finally look up at you. “Besides, I assumed you would appreciate my…tokens of appreciation towards your stunt.”

A small huff of annoyance passed your lips as you frowned slightly at the raven. “Look, we’ve been going back and forth all week and I just need my stuff back. Would it make you feel better if I said that I forfeit?” 

Another page turned slowly, making your fists clench as Wednesday responded, “it was inevitable that you would accept defeat. Your blows were remarkably inferior.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee before her eyes once more met yours. “Seeing of your abilities I assume that you should be able to track out your possessions; I might recommend searching the north-western quadrant of the woods.”

Your eyes widened in frustration and annoyance. “That’ll take me half the day to search, how much ground to you expect me to even cover in the period of time that I have to work with?”

“Your senses are more than satisfactory for uncovering your works. If you use what you have of a brain then you should be fine.” The raven gave a slight roll of her eyes, returning back to her book, muttering. “Just don’t do anything foolish.”

“Yeah, yeah, glad to know you care so much.” You were poking at her now but you weren’t really paying attention when the Addams shot you the deadliest of glares, jaw tightening with frustration before returning to her book. You exited the quad, swerving down the hall. How in the hell were you going to do this alone? You had a lot of area to cover and only so much time before class started. Huffing, you picked up the pace as you powered through the halls. Your ears picked up a familiar scuttling sound from somewhere behind you, followed by a small tugging of your pants leg, making you turn and see none other than Thing.

“What do you want, Thing? I don’t have much time.” You paused your walking so the appendage could tap rapidly without having to move at the same time. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll deliver your lotions tonight, okay? I can’t right now but I promise I will.” An idea sparked in your mind before you started to walk again and you slowly glanced down at Thing. “You want another nail filer, right?” A couple of taps easily affirmed your question as you brightened. “Perfect. Then help me find where the hell Wednesday hid my books in the woods, and you’ve got a deal.” Thing paused for a moment before rapidly tapping again. “You weren’t with her when she hid them…” you slightly deflated before shaking your head and continuing. “Doesn’t matter. Two heads are better than…” you trailed off before trying again, “two hands? Two hands are better? Wait…” you counted your own hands for a moment, feeling extremely dumb for a second. “Three- three hands are better than one.” You were met with a couple smug taps and you bristled. “Shut up and help me look.”

The hand grabbed hold of one of the straps of your backpack to pull himself atop it, and you took that as a sign to continue, weaving through the halls until you hopped off the back steps and onto the lawn. The early morning sun was just starting to tip over the trees that still somehow bore leaves, though the grass was scattered with said foliage, crunching underfoot as you made your way across the lawn, shivering slightly as you silently wished the sun would just hurry the hell up.

The protection of the woods dimmed the light further, despite the lack of protection from the trees, what little light there was quickly darkening as the cover of the forest encapsulated you. It wasn’t as peaceful as usual. The woods had an almost eerie vibe, one that you couldn’t place but one that you could sense. That little patch of fur on the back of your neck? Standing on end, like your spidey senses. You caught yourself looking around on multiple occasions, having to shake off the wariness as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Wednesday had said it was in the north western part of the woods. Perfect. You were already there. But how would you be able to track down textbooks? What kind of scent trail would that even be? Sure, you’d maybe spilled a tad of soda on a page or two but surely that wasn’t anything strong enough to track down. You let your bag down so that Thing could emerge and the hand was instantly scuttling off into the woods, searching one section so you could continue yours. 

No, you were not going to get on all fours like an animal and sniff. The mere idea sent a shudder of repulsion and disdain down your spine, as you simply crouched down on the balls of your feet, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on what you were honing out. All that you could scent at the moment was pine, fir, durt, and the regular must odor of the forest, overlayed with old scent trails of animals that’d passed by long before. Underneath it was a scent you couldn’t quite place. It was almost a sulfuric scent; it was definitely faint and you had to really focus to even get a good whiff, but it was there. 

You started half walking half jogging around to try and get some sort of scent trail, rolling your eyes as you silently regretted your action of stealing the Addams’ typewriter. How in the world did she even expect you to-

A faint hint of vanilla.

You caught the scent abruptly when you passed a particularly large clump of undergrowth, stopping in your tracks as you slowly backed up to confirm what you’d just detected. Sure enough there was the scent of vanilla - a good strong whiff of it. Easily scentable. You crouched down again, not caring for once about dirtying your pants as you tore aside a couple clumps of pine needles and dirt, revealing a cardboard box, slightly bigger than a shoebox. Upon opening said box your books were revealed, and you let out a sigh of relief. As you pulled the box from the undergrowth you realized that the box had been lightly doused in vanilla extract, explaining the source of the trail.

Tucking your box safely under your arm, you started to pull your backpack back over your shoulder, dusting dirt and forest debris from your uniform when you suddenly heard the sound of multiple birds taking flight. Your head snapping upward you saw briefly through the thick trees a good number of said birds startled into the air, flying away with what to you sounded like a loud flapping of wings and an alarm call.

A faint scuttling broke through your thoughts as out shot Thing from the undergrowth, clearly scuttling as fast as he could as the hand dashed over to you, trying to sign through his scampers toward you. 

“Thing, what’s wrong?” You glanced at the appendage, worry thick in your tone, trying to understand what he was trying to say, but before you could try and make sense of anything a sudden sound broke through the woods, causing you to jump.

A gunshot.

The sound cracking through the still early morning forest air was enough to make your stomach curl as the fur on the back of your neck instantly stood up, your fingers gripping your backpack strap so tight that your knuckles began to whiten as your eyes widened. Thing leapt atop your bag, signing rapidly, but you were in too much of a daze to even process anything he was saying, practically frozen on the spot like a deer in the headlights as you tried to work through the current fog that was your mind at the moment.

You couldn’t hear anymore gunshots, thank god, but now dread hung thick in the forest air, tension strung tightly from branch to branch as if it was something palpable you could touch. A thick stench of sulfur returned to your nose and you recoiled, taking a step backward that broke you from your daze, instantly reminded of the sulfuric scent you’d smelled earlier. You were backing up now, Thing clutching tightly to your bag as you turned and ran.

You knew there was nothing, nobody behind you but you were beginning to hear things, imagining the rapid footsteps and the crunch of dry leaves underfoot other than your own as you strained for every ounce of speed your body possessed. You were in flight mode. 

Lungs aching and mind focused only on getting out of the forest, you burst from the cover of the forest, racing across the lawn as Thing held on for dear life just so that he wouldn’t fall off. You weren’t paying much attention as your feet got tangled up, and you took a tumble to the ground, skidding a couple feet in the grass as you felt the dry autumn terrain tear at your clothes, most definitely skinning a knee in the process. Thing went flying, landing a couple feet away from you as you stilled on the ground, taking in short breaths.

Your breathing was hurting. God, it hurt to breathe but every second you didn’t it felt like your lungs were going to shrivel and die. Struggling, you huffed in short, cut off breaths as you tried to register everything at once and calm yourself down.

Your body stilled when you heard the dreaded crunch of dry leaves underfoot growing closer. Weren’t you just imagining things? You were supposed to be safe here, Nevermore was supposed to be safe.

“Y/N.”

You slowly dragged yourself to a sitting position, trying to force an expression of calm on your face despite the icy panic you were still experiencing as you slowly looked up to see Wednesday, dressed in uniform with her bag over her shoulder standing beside you, eyes examining you as if you were a scientific experiment. Were you? Was that was this whole… treasure hunt in the woods had been? 

“What happened?” The Addams tone was neutral but oh so barely softer. Her glare wasn’t as piercing as usual. She could tell. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, she could somehow tell how panicked you were? Was it the fact that that damn patch of fur you had was still sticking straight up and bristling like a hostile dog? Was it your struggling to take in breaths as you groaned at the new pain in your muscles from the fall you’d taken? It definitely wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been but it still stung.

You struggled to answer as your voice came out much softer than you intended, “I- it- there was-” you had to drag in a couple more breaths as the raven slowly knelt down beside you, cold knuckle coming under your chin to lift your face to meet yours, her eyebrows furrowing as she met your eyes. “I would suggest attempting to control your breathing and refraining from talking until you do so.”

Instead of responding with a witty remark you simply took her advice, trying to do a breathing exercise as you silently counted in your head, closing your eyes to help your focus as your chest began to rise and fall in a less erratic pattern. Slowly, you regained your focus and the panic seeped away, and you were able to speak regularly, though your voice had a slight shake to it. Damnit, you were supposed to be better than this. You didn’t want Wednesday’s pity.

“I found the books but when we were about to leave we heard a gunshot in the woods.” Wednesday’s hand was gone almost as soon as it had come; you hadn’t even noticed. The Addams raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Thing and I. We were together,” you stood up painfully, rubbing your skinned knee as you retrieved your fallen items, gesturing to Thing who was on the ground still, dazed. You silently promised yourself to bring him an extra nail buffer for the appendage as an apology later that night, watching him slowly crawl over to the two of you. Wednesday straightened as her eyes flicked from Thing to the woods, clearly in deep focus as she remained silent for a moment. “Approximate the distance between where the gunshot originated and the academy.”

You thought for a second, math racing through your brain as you tried to make a connection. Damnit, you were sucky as hell at your math. After a moment you responded uncertainly. “I’d say two miles. The sound wasn’t as sharp as it could’ve been.” You were pacing now, mind racing as you recalled the sound itself. “I think it was a shotgun.”

“I see.” Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly and you noticed her jaw tighten slightly as she glanced at Thing again. “And what did you witness?” The appendage began tapping slowly at first, shaking off the daze of his own fall before his signs became more rapid in pace. The Addams sighed slightly as she folded her arms before muttering, “at least you made a wise decision in splitting up to cover ground.” She paused before turning to you, eyes glancing up to meet yours. “If I may offer a suggestion, I’d recommend that we bring this to Weems.”

Your eyes widened slightly and you felt a small flutter in your chest as you spoke, trying not to sound too hopeful. “You mean we’ll work together?” Wednesday gave a roll of her eyes, muttering something under her breath with gritted teeth before finally glaring at you again. “Yes, but only for the fact that half of this school are incompetent adolescents who would perform quite poorly compared to… you.” The Addams reluctantly admitted, her voice becoming strained at the end of her sentence. “Strictly a professional relationship shall be required. Understood?” She offered her perfectly manicured hand to yours, waiting for you to shake with a raise of an eyebrow. 

You didn’t hesitate one moment, grasping her cold, stiff hand in hers and shaking it.

—————

pt.8 here!