Too Sharp To Touch Pt.5

Too Sharp to Touch pt.5

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, mentions of blood

Summary: After a painting session with Xavier you meet up with your friend group at the dining hall, and it seems as if everyone is talking about you and Wednesday

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

The quiet sound of a wet paintbrush slathering over canvas, paint dripping onto the tarp on the floor was the atmosphere for your slavery, taunting you as you remembered that this was all your fault.

Xavier was sitting atop his own painting stool, mid-paint, and looking at you occasionally to make sure you were still cleaning. Your pair of sweatpants was already getting coated in a layer of chalk dust as you knelt on the shed floor, scooping broken pencil shards into the Ziploc bag you’d been given with a very prominent pout on your face.

Sure, you could’ve been painting just like Xavier, getting the respect you very much deserved instead of being treated like a misbehaving child, but no. Here you were, on the floor, dirtying your second pair of pants this month, stooping under tables to reach the strayed paintbrushes.

And it was all the fault of Wednesday Addams.

Yeah sure, you’d gotten a few useful fighting tips a couple nights ago. Use your heightened senses, yadda yadda, don’t let anyone touch the fur on your neck, yadda yadda - but surely you didn’t deserve such a shove to the floor.

And no, you were not imagining the small glint of satisfaction in the goth’s eyes when you nearly busted the floor of the shed right open when the impact of your fall, a mess of paint brushes and art supplies flying around you. The hint of a smirk on her face? She took satisfaction in doing it, no matter what excuses you knew she would make.

“You done yet?” 

The scoff of the painting psychic broke you out of your thoughts when you realized you’d paused cleaning. Frowning softly, you sat back on your heels to look at the mess, or, more importantly, lack thereof. You’d cleaned up the pencils and paintbrushes and most of the chalks, but there was no way you’d be able to clean the stains of charcoal and chalk powder from the boards of the floor. You turned to Xavier and threw the bag at him, not caring if you hurt him or not (not that you put a lot of force into the throw anyway).

Your half-serious hopes of injury were quailed when Xavier chuckled at your throw, putting the ziploc on the table of art supplies, and turning back to painting. Without asking permission (which you both knew you didn’t need), you got off the floor and got into your worn painting stool, trying to dust the chalk powder off your sweatpants with a quiet grumble.

“I shouldn’t have had to clean that, I’m innocent.”

Xavier shook his head with a teasing smile as he dipped his paintbrush into his palette, continuing his smooth brushstrokes as he spoke.

“You know that when you’re in the shed alone whatever happens is your responsibility, Y/N.”

“I wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t my fault,” you insisted, eyebrows furrowing as you tossed him one last pout before turning to your painting you’d started the week before. “It was Wednesday’s fault, go and torture her and not me.” You didn’t comment on the fact that she wouldn’t mind being tortured. If you knew her she’d enjoy it.

“I don’t have a death wish, thank you,” Xavier chuckled softly again as his brush swirled around in his cup of paint water. “And what was Wednesday Addams doing in the shed last night?” The psychic leaned backward on his stool to look around his canvas and give you a raised eyebrow, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Fighting lessons. I already told you,” you grumbled, still in a bad mood from having to clean. “She pushed me.” You adjusted the lighting on one of the antlers of the stag, head tilting sideways as you tried to get the angle right.

“I don’t find that hard to believe,” Xavier muttered from behind his canvas. “She came up to me last night, asking about you, and she sounded pissed; more than usual, at least. Apparently, you didn’t show up.”

You scoffed slightly, trying to ignore the embarrassed heat starting to creep onto your cheeks. “I fell asleep trying to fix the heater, it was making funny noises again.” You paused a little bit, perking up slightly as you glanced at Xavier. “Wednesday asked about me?”

When you saw Xavier pause as well, glancing at you with surprise and a smirk, you froze. “Yeah, she did. Because you were late?” 

You felt the heat in your face get worse as you buried your face in the canvas again, trying to ignore Xavier’s stupid smirk as you felt his eyes on your back. 

“So how did the practice go, anyway? You were talking up a storm about it the other day.”

Oh, you knew exactly what he was doing. 

Deciding to humor him, you delicately painted a fine dark line to add a good contrast to your lighting, grinning in satisfaction as you responded, “Oh it went fine, I suppose.”

The silence that followed your response made you grin wider, but you hid it as you turned your face further into your canvas and out of view, continuing to smoothen your strokes as he responded, “That’s it? Come on, Y/N, I know it was more than that.”

“Nope,” you muttered, still thinking that he deserved some sort of payback for making you clean up the mess. “Nothing at all.”

The silence dragged on, only filled by the sound of water swishing and paintbrushes dipping into the paint before you finally couldn’t hold back what you had to say.

“Wednesday cheated. She shoved me on purpose and didn’t warn me.” You continued to complain as you added a touch of green to your forest canopy background. “Not to mention the fact that she barely taught me anything-”

You continued to grumble and gripe about your night, pausing only to catch your breath as Xavier listened, before cutting in, “Sounds like you two had a good time, aside from breaking apart my shed. Next time keep it in the academy or the woods.”

You fixed him with a glare, shaking your head as you felt the heat return to your cheeks. “It was a fighting lesson, that’s all.” Turning back to your canvas, you muttered, “And I don’t think she particularly liked your crusty old shed anyways.”

“Keep talking like that and you won’t get to use my crusty old shed,” Xavier snarked, throwing a paintbrush at your head, which you dodged. “And clearly it wasn’t just a fighting lesson, you’ve been walking around in a trance all day. Did she, like, poison you or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” You turned your attention back to your canvas to try and get rid of the now very prominent blush on your face. 

You leaned toward the canvas, switching out for the smaller brush to hone in on the detail of the bloodstain. Yes, you’d used the pigs blood from the bloodstain thing you’d done with Wednesday. It made the piece more genuine, at least in your mind. 

When you leaned in you started to drag your brush delicately down the canvas when something made you freeze. You picked up a scent on your painting. No, it wasn’t the scent of blood, oils or acrylics. It was faint, maybe two or three days old, but it was a scent you knew. The scent of dead leaves and darkness, an underlying tone of death lingering behind it. 

Wednesday?

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you continued to hover right in front of your canvas, setting your brush down so you could focus. Not only had she been near it but she had touched it. That much you knew. Yet you were still confused. Had she been here some other time? Why would she touch your painting of all the paintings there were here?

“Uhh… Y/N?”

Xavier’s confused voice broke through your thoughts as you realized you had been hunched weirdly in front of your canvas for a bit, lost in confusion and still scenting the last traces of Wednesday on your canvas. Embarrassed, you straightened quickly, muttering out an excuse about seeing a bug, and tried to focus on your painting as you reached for the paintbrush again.

-

You stood and stretched, glancing outside at the sky that was beginning to darken, the last golden rays of sun fading out slowly. Your painting was definitely coming along nicely; you’d gotten a lot of the lighting done, and the background was nearly finished; you’d have to fix the bloodstain another time. Blood definitely wasn’t something easy to paint with. 

You put your brushes away and scooted your stool back into place as you glanced at Xavier, who had his headphones on. Walking over, you nudged him, gesturing outside to let him know you were leaving.

The psychic merely nodded at you in acknowledgment, handing you the Ziploc full of the broken art supplies for you to keep before turning back to his art, and you slipped out of the shed, leaving him to his devices as you threw your shoulder into the creaky door to close it fully.

Your stomach was growling by the time you arrived at the main building, jogging up the stairs as you made a beeline for the dining hall, weaving easily through students. God, you were starving. If they were out of yogurt cups again you were going to claw someone.

Upon entering the dining hall, your eyes brightened at the sight of a bustling room, tables full of chatting students, not to mention those studying in the corner. Fidgeting impatiently you got in line, grabbing yourself a Coke. You spotted the last yogurt cup in the cooler and reached for it, only for it to be swiped from your reach by someone ahead of you in line.

Growling with frustration, you had to stop yourself from literally clawing it out of the student's hands, reminding yourself to have some self-control as you watched the student walk off with what should have been your property. 

Damnit.

Your hands felt empty carrying only your coke (ignoring the Ziploc bag of broken art supplies), as you walked toward your usual table, Enid, Bianca, Yoko, and Divina were already seated and chatting together.

“Move,” you huffed, nudging the tip of the blonde’s blazer as your hands were full. You scooted in between Yoko and Enid, setting the bag of art supplies at your feet and cracking open the coke with a claw, shotgunning it.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Bianca observed from across the table, giving you a smirk as she took a bite of salad. “What was it this time?”

You paused mid-shotgun to groan. “I was so close to getting that yogurt cup I could taste it.” Your words came out more of a whine than a groan. 

“Don’t be late next time, then! What took you so long?” Enid elbowed your side, almost causing you to spit your coke out all over yourself as you kicked her back under the table with equal force.

“I had to clean up this giant mess in Xavier’s shed,” you grumbled. “Leftovers from fighting practice.”

“Fighting practice! Everyone’s been talking about your fighting practice and I want the tea, so spill.” Enid raised an eyebrow at you, taking a sip of her own tea as she grinned. 

“Not everyone.” Yoko scoffed from across the table, rolling her eyes as she chuckled a little at the blonde’s exaggeration. “Us, Enid. We’ve been talking about it, not the whole school.”

“Yeah, because we want to know how in hell you managed to not only get lessons with her but somehow not get killed in the process,” Bianca raised an eyebrow, pointing her plastic fork at you for emphasis as she spoke. “She must be using you somehow.”

Enid jumped in to defend her roommate quickly. “Hey, Wednesday doesn’t use people-!”

The table burst into conversation and argument, nothing too serious, and you just listened as you chugged the rest of your coke, the sound of it melding quite nicely with the noisy chatter of the dining hall.

You clearly weren’t paying attention because one second everyone was fighting and the next Wednesday was standing right behind you and Enid, and this time you did choke on your coke, the soda going down the wrong pipe and causing you to cough as you covered your mouth, embarrassed.

“Speak of the devil,” Bianca muttered, rolling her eyes at the sight of Wednesday.

“Don’t flatter me,” came the response, the raven glaring at the siren with such a gaze that could make a grown man cry. Addressing nobody else, she turned to Enid. “I’d appreciate your assistance using this.”

Wednesday handed the blonde her phone. It was the one you knew Xavier had given her and not once had you seen her use it, not that you assumed she knew how. 

Enid tapped on it a couple times, adjusting some things on screen before handing it back to Wednesday, who frowned in slight distaste at the phone. nodding her thanks and turning on her heel. 

As she walked past you she placed a yogurt cup in front of you, not even making eye contact as she did so.

“Addams’ giving gifts?” Bianca snickered, raising an eyebrow to tease Wednesday, who glared coldly in response, hissing. “Thing retrieved the yogurt cup for me. Seeing as I have no regard for anything slightly sweet it was of no use to me and I was to get it out of my hands.”

The raven locked eyes with you at the end of her sentence and you felt a very noticeable blush ride to your face as you met her glare. 

“Suggest anything personal such as me giving anyone a gift again, Barclay, and I’ll filet your scales out one by one.” Wednesday threatened the siren coldly. Her eyes met yours once more, something flickering within them before she turned and left. As you watched her go, no you did not see Thing anywhere near her, nor could scent him.

Liar.

You dug your spoon into the yogurt, mixing the berries together, suddenly aware of the silence around you. You paused and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What-?”

“Nothingggg!” Enid said in a singsong tone, giggling as she looked at you. “I just think that someone maybe has a little crush?”

The blonde’s words were met with a chorus of agreement and laughter, save Bianca who still looked pissed from her conversation with Wednesday, to no surprise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed as you spooned your yogurt, the blush on your face getting darker. Damnit. Yoko slammed her palm on the table, pointing at you.

“Your tells don’t lie, Y/N. I’ve never seen your face that shade of red before. Something’s up.”

You groaned, glaring at her without a retort to fire back. You were going to get her back for it. You kicked her shin underneath the table, smirking with satisfaction when the vampire winced.

“Look, all we’re saying is that first off you totally do have a crush,” Yoko pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “But aside from that, you could get murdered. Seriously, Y/N, I’m worried for your safety. Do all werewolves have a death wish?”

“Nah, just the hot ones,” you responded sarcastically, draining the last of the yogurt cup and standing up. “I’m gonna bounce, I’m headed out for a run.”

You were met with a couple goodbyes, a nod from Bianca, and a raise of an eyebrow from Yoko, but Enid stood up with you, nodding, “Yeah I’m going with you.”

You started to speak up, confused; Enid had never shown interest in going on a run with you before - but when you saw the blonde's face, telling you to stay quiet, you did as told and nodded, walking with her out of the dining hall.

As soon as the two of you were out of sight the blonde pulled you aside in the hall, holding both of your shoulders.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, Wednesday totally likes you,” Enid said with a grin. “It’s not like many people can tell, but seeing as I’m her roomie I can see when she’s got a soft spot for someone and you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.”

“Are you sure about that?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the prickling on your neck at the thought of what she was suggesting. “She seems to hate me.”

“Oh please, Y/N, wake up and smell the roses.” Enid rolled her eyes, shaking your shoulders a little. “I’m trying to help you out here.”

You sighed and muttered, “Fine. Enlighten me, oh great sensei.”

“Don’t be a dick, and listen.” Enid shook you harder. “You need to get her attention, more so than already. Show her you’re bold.”

“And how would I do that?” You said in a bit of confusion as to where this was heading.

“Maybe go out and kill something and bring it back to her? As like- to show you’re a good hunter?” The blonde didn't even notice your eyes scrunching up in distaste.

“Or I could steal something-“ You went completely off the rails, eyes sparking at your own idea as Enid frowned. “She deserves payback after making me clean up her mess.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-“ Enid shook her head, face going slightly pale. “No matter what feelings Wednesday might have towards you, she'll literally murder you if you take any of her stuff.”

“Too late!” You were grinning now, eyes alight with mischievous intent, hopping a little on your toes with the excitement of it all. “She totally deserves it.”

You were already starting to scramble down the hallway, your run forgot, but Enid grabbed our arm, speaking seriously. “Y/N, no matter what you do, just - be careful and don’t mess anything up. The fact that Wednesday likes you already means you’re on thin ice, so be careful.”

You looked at Enid and nodded impatiently. “Thanks for the advice, E, I owe you one!”

With that you turned and raced down the hall, your mind set on the prize to snatch. Something the Addams treasured, cared for, loved, even. 

The typewriter.

—————

pt.6 here!

Too Sharp to Touch pt.2

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Summary: After your fight last week you've been sentenced to community service in Jericho, and you take a break at the Weathervane for some peace and quiet

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“This stinks,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled a discarded paper cup from the sidewalk and placed it into your bag. 

After your so called ‘dogfight’ a week before, you’d been sentenced by Weems to go out and do some community service in Jericho. On a Saturday. So unfair. So while you could’ve been drawing with Xavier and Eugene in the shed, instead you were stuck outside in the unusually hot September sun, picking up bits of trash, surrounded by normies, a few of those who’d give you dirty looks as they passed.

It wasn’t the act of simply cleaning up discarded trash and whatnot that bothered you; it was the fact that it was boring, hot, and unfair. Since when did a little fight deserve this cruel of a punishment? And on a Saturday? That was just cruel. 

Grunting slightly, you moved your trash bag over to your right shoulder, kneeling slightly to grab a broken plastic spoon from a crack in the sidewalk. This punishment was stupid; there was barely any trash anyway. You’d been out here for nearly an hour and a half and yet your bag was barely half-full; was Weems just trying to make you suffer? Deep down you knew of course she wasn’t, but still. It felt good to complain about something while you were forced to endure this.

Your muscles still felt uncomfortably tight from your fight. Sure, you had given the other guy a pretty good whooping but even you couldn’t deny that he had beat the shit out of you; your bruise lingered on your cheekbone and jaw, and every time you moved too sharply your side ached. You could definitely go for a nice cool shower right now, but no. Today was not a good day. 

Maybe Wednesday was right though. You weren’t the best at fighting, especially for a werewolf, which was pretty odd even to you. Sure, you could throw a decent punch, but couldn’t anyone? You wouldn’t admit it to her but you wished you were as good at fighting as Wednesday was.

Every time you thought of that fight you remembered the feeling of her eyes on you, examining you, thoughts and focus only on you.

It made that little bit of fur on the back of your neck rise and tingle, embarrassingly enough. 

You were walking by Uriah’s Heap when you heard the bell at the door signaling someone exiting the shop, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder to see a young-aged man in a plaid button up with a gun slung over his shoulder exit the store. Eyebrows furling in slight disgust, you started to move on, trying to hustle away from him, but you weren’t fast enough and felt a hand clamp on your shoulder, followed by his voice

“Hey, you’re that Lyall kid, right?”

Eyes rolling with a little bit of disgust, without even looking behind you, you muttered, “you’ve got the wrong person,” stepping forward and away, but the man hurried to catch up beside you.

“No, no, I’ve seen you before, I swear.” The man’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Aren’t you some kinda wolf freak?”

You started walking faster, getting irritated; you needed to control yourself or you were going to get into another fight and get punished even worse.

“I’m not supposed to be talking to people right now, okay?”

Completely ignoring what you had just said, the man walked alongside you, tone prodding you for information.

“You know, I’ve heard some pretty wild shit about you,” he grinned, showing a single gold tooth replacing one of his canines. “Aren’t you rolled up in that weird-ass school, Nevermore?”

Not wanting to seem rude, you just stared straight ahead as you walked, muttering, “yes.”

The man smiled, seeming pleased to get some sort of information out of you. “So what are you doing all the way in Vermont instead of in New Hampshire? With your daddy?”

“This school fits me better,” you responded stiffly, rolling your eyes again.

“What, because you’re a freak?”

Clearly this man was just trying to provoke you. And, annoyingly, it was working. You could feel that familiar bubble in your chest that made you want to get mad. Punch someone. Especially him. Yet, you knew that if Weems heard about you beating up a normie in town, your punishment would surely be so much worse.The man continued to pester you as you passed the antique shop, your eyes flickering to the gun strapped over his neck as you muttered, ready to be out of this conversation, “look, I gotta go.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned sharply and crossed the street, garbage bag thumping repeatedly against your back. Skirting around a parked car, you paused on the sidewalk, looking over at the man on the other side of the road, wondering if he was planning on following you. Relief flooded you and your stiff posture disappeared as you watched the man turn the corner and disappear.

Still a little on edge, you noticed that now you were right in front of the Weathervane. Hesitating, you debated your options. It was hot, you’d already been out there for a while, and you had to admit that what little trash there had been around town was now safely tucked in your bag. Surely you deserved a break at least? 

You let out a long exhale of relief as you entered the shop, the air conditioning soothing your sore muscles from bending over all morning. The smell of coffee grounds was particularly strong and you felt yourself untense further as your fear started to melt. You headed for the counter, and then stopped short, immediately recognizing a familiar goth seated in one of the booths in the corner, eyes focused on a book in her hand as her mug sat beside her, seemingly untouched.

It took you a moment to pull your eyes away from Wednesday before you walked over to the counter, ordering yourself a hot chocolate as you let your bag drop to the floor. Pulling off your tight latex gloves, those of which you shoved in your pocket, you paid for your hot chocolate, thanking the kid working there, and headed straight for the table in the back.

When you approached her, you watched as Wednesday’s eyes didn’t move from what she was working on as she spoke. “Done already?”

“I should be,” you huffed, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “It’s too damn hot.”

The raven raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes. “So you’re not done.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “I’ve been working for like three hours; it’s a cruel punishment.”

“Lucky you,” she muttered, turning back to her work as she spoke, writing a little bit more. Without asking, you slid into the booth opposite her, not noticing her turn on the page faltering slightly as you did so, adjusting yourself comfortably as you placed your hot chocolate down.

Not feeling much of a need to say anything, you just stayed silent, laying against the cool cushioned padding of the booth and taking a well deserved break, the sound of customers murmuring, coffee cups clinking, and the turning of pages doing well to add to the comfortable atmosphere.

You two both sat there in silence; Wednesday never once speaking as she worked, you relaxing with your eyes half closed, not noticing the raven’s eyes flicking up to observe you every now and then. 

It was the most peace you had gotten the whole week and it felt good.

And you couldn’t deny that you were maybe watching Wednesday too. You weren’t being creepy at all, but you were just always drawn to those dark brown eyes, always filled with focus and concentration, and the sea of freckles dotting her cheeks. The way she read every single line as if she truly wanted to understand it; how she took notes every now and then, muttering under her breath as she did so. Hadn’t you ever called her pretty before? Because she definitely was.

The silence lulled on until it was broken by the ringing of the bell to the entrance of the shop, you turning your head to see Enid followed by Yoko enter; as the blonde spotted you and Wednesday, immediately that stupid grin came over her face; the one that you knew too well; she was up to something.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, returning to drinking peacefully and reluctantly realizing that this peace wasn’t going to last as long as you hoped.

You heard the sound of Enid skipping over to where you and Wednesday were sitting as Yoko approached the counter, with a cheerful “hiya, Willa! Didn’t know that when you left this morning you were going out for coffee with Y/N?” The blonde waggled her eyebrows suggestively, a smirk on her face as she looked between you two. Oh, she was so dead.

You had to bite down a smirk of your own as you saw Wednesday stiffen even more than she usually was, slowly looking up from her book to glare at Enid. Oh, if looks could kill the blonde would be six feet under right now, although both you and Enid knew that she’d never follow through on any threats she might make. 

“I’m merely reading. I had no intention on Y/N being here, nor is this any form of…” - the raven paused, her eyes scrunching up slightly in disdain as she refused to say the word - “affectionate interaction. Y/N was fulfilling her assigned punishment and happened to interrupt me.”

This time you actually smirked when you saw Enid’s smug smile disappear and you stuck your tongue out at her, though that promptly resulted in you catching an elbow thrown into your side, you letting out an ‘oof’, and doubling over as Wednesday smirked slightly.

“You’re skimping out on your service?” Enid asked, tilting her head slightly in exasperation. “If Weems catches you…”

You cut her off, “even if she does find out, she’s got a soft spot for me. At the least I’ll get a detention. Simple.”

You heard Wednesday scoff softly, though she stayed silent otherwise.

Yoko shortly returned, with two drinks in hand, giving one to Enid. You watched as through her shades the vampire’s eyes studied both you and Wednesday, a tiny smirk appearing on her face, eyebrow raising slightly as she glanced between you two. Nodding once at the raven, who didn’t respond, as well as you, she gave Enid a little nudge on the shoulder. “Come on, E, let’s give ‘em some space.”

You watched as Enid gave you and Wednesday a wave goodbye, the latter of which met both Yoko and Enid with a glare that could’ve easily frightened any grown man. Both Enid and Yoko exited, leaving you and Wednesday alone.

“Idiots”, she muttered under her breath, eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance. You chuckled softly and leaned back in the booth, resuming your own little trance of being comfortably aware of everything around you, your sensitive hearing picking up every single noise. The clinking of coffee cups. The sound of the machine whirring and hissing every now and then. The turning of pages. Soft murmurs of conversation. 

It almost made you forget about the conversation you’d had earlier with that man.

It was after another good thirty minutes that you glanced down at your phone as it pinged, receiving a text from Weems notifying you that she would be picking you up in estimately thirty minutes.

Which meant that you had to leave. 

Damnit.

Sliding out of the booth, you glanced at your phone and then at the door, sighing with disappointment as you grabbed your hot chocolate and downed the rest of it easily. You noticed how Wednesday’s eyes briefly flicked up to you as you started pulling your gloves on. “Going to complete your procrastinated duties?”

You nodded grimly with a small sigh, “I’m sure as hell not getting another detention this week.”

She hummed ever so softly, eyes falling back to her paper as she deadpanned, “if your behavior isn’t corrected than you surely will be.”

You didn’t even hesitate to give her a small kick to the shin, which was met with a harder one to yours in response, you groaning “don’t be a dick.”

Finishing with pulling your gloves on, you rubbed your sore shin with a grimace, shooting her a dirty look, though you had to look away to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes at her smirk. You walked backwards with your bag, sticking your tongue out at her, causing her to roll her own eyes in response and return to her book as you exited the cafe, a grin on your face and the heat of the sun on your back not as prominent in your mind as it was before.

In your mind, you could still hear her turning the pages

—————

pt.3 here!

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!

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.

Usually, in werewolf lore, it's predetermined. Like the wolf already knows who it is like Enid with Ajax. The Alpha, Beta, and Omega only happen in werewolf packs and don't mainly deal with romance, but are viewed like regular wolf packs. You have the Alpha wolf who leads, The beta who is second in command, and the omegas are seen as the youngest or weakest members.

Gotcha gotcha gotcha I’m getting it now. So thinking about it R already knows it’s Wednesday… senses that she’s in danger (or like stated earlier is in the woods at the time) and comes to the rescue?

Thinking about that I also want to make sure that Wednesday doesn’t completely turn around and chases after R… I mean she’d never do that no matter what she’s feeling in my opinion.

I can also just move it so all of the Hyde stuff happens before this fic so maybe it’s just the original Wednesday plot line and then R enters the story later on

A little drabble for my lovelies while I’m writing. This has been stuck in my drafts for like a year and a half and I lost motivation so go nuts. This could possibly be a TSTT au?

Sleep

Word count: maybe 500 idk

Warnings: uhhh sickies

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

You're sick. Not just your average run-of-the-mill, common cold sick either. You're sick. You have a high fever, and the worst chills you've ever experienced in your life. Luckily for you, you have someone to take care of you. And it's the person everyone would least expect.

Wednesday Addams; your girlfriend, had 'begrudgingly' agreed to take care of you, but you knew otherwise. You could tell from the way that she would sit by your bedside for hours at night, watching you to make sure you actually slept, that she did in fact care, despite her claims. Her twist on this was this; you were her partner. She needed you to get better simply because not only did Enid miss your sickening presence in their shared dorm, but you were missing classes, as well as having the worst self-care she'd ever seen. Wednesday repeatedly told herself this; not that it was because just the sight of you sitting in bed looking pale and helpless made her dark heart twist. Sure, she was your girlfriend, but the need to take care of you and make you better makes her miserable. So it wasn't too bad.

Most of the time she didn't need to be there; you took your pills when needed, drank plenty of water, and got rest. You should've been fine. What she didn't expect was for your fever to somehow get worse.

The fact that you had a lack of self-care already made her want to snap at you, to make you admit to yourself that you needed to get better. That you needed to take some responsibility. That you mattered.

But for the most part, she just told you to take your pills, rest, and eat the soup that she would bring occasionally. It wasn't too bad, since most of the time you were reasonable and compliant.

But tonight, Wednesday simply could not tolerate you.

You woke from fever, grimacing and head swimming; deliria was the most common symptom these nights. You take a minute to drink in your surroundings. You had been moved to Wednesday's dorm a couple of nights ago; she had claimed that it was because you couldn't be trusted alone, but you knew otherwise.

Your vision was screwed up too; all peripheral vision was out the window, and dots flashed in your vision every time you moved.

Had you been thinking normally, you would've gone back to sleep.

But with a 103 degree fever, and delirium sinking faster than the Titanic, you only have one thought. One need. Water. You turn to the nightstand, but only a small bottle of Tylenol sits there. And no water? Grimacing with frustration and pain, you slowly peel back the hot covers, letting out a faint sigh of relief at the coolness that encompassed your flushed skin. You were wearing...Wednesday's pajamas? The material was surprisingly soft, and black. Typical. You looked around for Wednesday, assuming she'd be in the room, but she was nowhere to be found. Enid isn't present either. Odd.

You slowly push your way out of the bed, body shaking from being too hot and cold all at once. Your nerves feel alive. Tumbling as soon as your legs try to hold your weight, you let out a startled and hoarse cry, cursing softly as you find yourself face down on the floorboards.

You push yourself upwards, groaning with pain and dizziness to find yourself face to face with Wednesday, looking at you with her typical deadpan that is laced slightly with annoyance. "In bed. Now." Normally you'd oblige to this request; you've known not to get on Wednesday's bad side. But the delirium is refusing to allow you to see common knowledge, and you sit there on the dorm floor, frowning slightly as if trying to remember who she is. "What?"

Sighing with frustration, Wednesday grabs your wrist, hauling you onto your feet. Shaking, you find yourself leaning on her so much that she almost stumbles, but she regains her footing quickly and pinches her eyebrows together. "Y/N." Turning your head to look at her, you shake your head slightly, pulling away from her, though her grip is too tight. Not painful, just tight. As if to ground you. "I have to...I need the um..." You're stammering now; you needed something. What was it again? That's why you had woken up, wasn't it? Looking mildly upset, you try to pull back again, but she simply sighs, as if this has happened before (which it most certainly has), and pushes you gently back onto her bed, though there is a bit of annoyance to the action. "Go back to sleep, now.”

You let out a delirious groan, not budging as you once more tried to leave the bed, only to be met with yet another refusal.

“Your fever is what’s affecting your common sense right now, you need to rest.” Wednesdays voice was tinged with irritation now as she placed a cold hand on your chest, making you flinch as she pushed you down into the covers. “I shall have no other choice than to watch you like a petulant child if you cannot refrain from disobedience.”

Your eyes were glazed, she could tell that there was simply nothing going on behind them. She couldn’t blame you; you were making it hard for yourself to heal and that was the issue at hand.

The Addams took a seat on her chair, watching you lay limply in her bed. If any good came out of this it would be the opportunity to scold you, which you absolutely deserved.

Her eyes never left you the whole night.

(Requests are open now, go shoot me some requests and I’ll crank them out. ✊)