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!

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.3

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: slight language, descriptions of blood and blood usage

Summary: you decide to ask Wednesday to teach you to fight, only to discover she has a different plan in mind

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“Teach me to fight.”

That’s what you were going to say. Simple. How hard could it be? Surely, Wednesday wouldn’t say no, right?

You had got out of your werewolf anatomy class early, dismissed with a homework assignment that you could work on later, but now your main focus was on working up the courage to ask Wednesday to teach you how to fight.

She had a soft spot for you. You were almost positive you weren’t making that up. Surely the fact that she threatened your bodily harm slightly less than others at Nevermore, or in general, was a good thing, right? And besides, she had helped you out after your fight. That has to mean something. And no, of course you weren’t looking for a reason to get into a fight just because you knew she’d be there, but… hey, it was a perk. 

It still made that little patch of fur on the back of your neck prickle just thinking about those eyes of hers.

Enid had deliberately said to you that all you had to do was ask. No tiptoeing about it, just ask her.

"Come on, Y/N, it's not that hard. She's not going to bite." "Hopefully," you responded dryly, swinging your heels as you sat on her bed. "I just don't want to have to go back to fighting instructors, they suck ass."

"Well, you'll probably have to you don't ask," Enid said with a small smile. "She likes you, Y/N. Just go for it."

Those words had been banging through your head for the past three goddamn days.

Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Worst case scenario you’d just have to get a werewolf fighting instructor instead… oh god, that would be embarrassing. Most werewolves were naturally good at fighting. Why couldn’t you be the same? It was definitely frustrating, to say the least.

You continued to pace the halls, brainstorming. Wednesday was at her Hummers meeting, but it wouldn’t be long before it was over. You had a little bit of time. Why were you even stressing it out this much? You were a werewolf! It’d be a piece of cake! Besides, Wednesday was only human, after all. Or maybe not; you weren’t entirely sure what the Addams’ were.

Perhaps you could get her something. Maybe some flowers and chocolate? To convince her to help you out? Well, you didn’t have enough time to run into town and get some chocolates, but the flowers you could definitely do.

You got up, scrambling down the hallway and hurrying down the stairs, ignoring the calls from an occasional teacher to slow down, headed for the greenhouse.

You arrived just as class emptied out, luckily, and you fought your way - literally fought; you caught more than a few elbows in your side - through the crowd of purple uniforms. Stopping by the door, you quickly checked to make sure everyone had exited before slipping inside.

You were welcomed by the cool temperature of the greenhouse, accompanied by the soft humming of the electricity, but you didn’t stop long, examining the different plants arranged around. Surely nobody would mind if you took a couple flowers? You peered at the different arrangement of flowers before your eyes caught on a lovely black dahlia, recognizing its spiky petals and dark hues to be the flower you wanted. Carefully pulling two or three from the planter, you held them carefully, exiting the greenhouse and closing the door carefully behind you as you hid the plant in the pocket of your blazer.

You hesitated briefly at the door to Wednesday and Enid’s dorm room, still catching your breath from your sprint. You could hear movement inside and you knew it wasn’t Enid; the blonde was busy working on an art project with Divina and Yoko today. You held your breath briefly before knocking your typical three knocks on the door before entering.

Quiet music came from the gramophone in the corner, signaling to you that your assumptions were correct. You turned your head to see Wednesday exiting her closet, dressed in her black and white checkered jumper with a jacket thrown over it. 

“Y/N.” She paused, the slightest hint of suspicion in her eyes when she spotted you. “What do you want?” The raven didn’t comment on the fact that you had entered the dorm without permission and you noticed. 

Now on the spot under Wednesday’s stare, you took a deep breath, forcing your hesitation down as you pulled out the black dahlia’s from behind your back, noticing too late that they were slightly crumpled; you had to bite back a frustrated huff at the sight of them. You knew you shouldn’t have put them in your blazer pocket.

“I was wondering if you’d teach me how to fight?” Silence.

More silence.

Too much damn silence.

You looked at her, feeling embarrassed about asking her like this. Her eyes slowly gazed from the flowers up to you as you stammered, “y’know, because I’m not the best at fighting, and well, you are, and I thought it could work out.” You forced yourself to stop talking before you could make yourself sound any more stupid than you already did. You were probably messing this up.

Wednesday seemed to examine you for a moment, eyes slowly moving to the flowers before back to you, staying silent for a moment longer before taking the flowers from you, depositing them on her desk. Before you could ask what she was doing, the raven turned and knelt by her bed, pulling out a semi-transparent jug filled with what appeared to be…blood? Confused, you didn’t have time to respond as Wednesday approached you, dumping the jug into your hands as she spoke.

“If you wish for me to instruct you, then you may first assist me, wolf.”

You looked down at the jug in your hands and then back at her, cocking your head slightly.

 “Is this real blood?” She ignored your question, placing a notebook inside of her bag as well as what appeared to be a sponge and some other materials.

 “I wish to begin implementing more realistic depictions into my novel. All you will need to do is act the part of a corpse for a bloodstain pattern analysis.”

“A corpse?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise and skepticism. The raven nodded, slinging her bag neatly over her shoulders.

“Correct” - she fixed you with that familiar glare you knew so well, already heading for the door. “And then I shall uphold my end of the deal.”

You hurried after her with the jug; despite it’s heaviness you carried it without a problem. “Where are you planning on doing this?”

“The woods,” came the reply. Once again you had to quicken your pace to catch up with her. How could a person so short move so damn fast? 

“So, is this real blood?” You repeated your question again; you didn’t have an issue with blood - after all you were a werewolf - but even you had to admit that if Wednesday so casually had a large jug full of real blood in her dorm it was a little concerning. The scent of it was a little different than human blood; your sensitive nose picked up a slight taint to it.

“Does it really matter?” She responded with a slight roll of her eyes. “It’s pig’s blood.”

You fell into a quiet silence as the two of you walked over the uneven terrain, the hushed silence of the woods engulfing the two of you as you entered. It was calming.

“So I’m going to be a corpse?” You said to fill the silence.

Wednesday nodded, adjusting the bag around her shoulder as she walked. “Indeed. I’ve played the role numerous times for my own amusement in the Addams Mansion. Consider yourself fortunate I’m even letting you in on the act.” With a sigh, you followed her as she led the way, the jug making swishing noises as the thick blood sloshed around inside. 

“And how long will this take?” 

“If your performance suffices, then not long.”  - Wednesday slowed her pace slightly, her gaze fixed on the woods - “we’ll find a suitable clearing where I can conduct the analysis. You’ll lie down, I’ll do my work, and then afterward you’re free to do as you please.” The raven eyed your clothing for a moment. “I assume you won’t mind dirtying your clothes.”

“Of course not,” you muttered sarcastically. “We werewolves love bloodied clothing.”

“Yes, because impeccably clean clothing is such a priority in the middle of the woods,” Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes in response. 

Eventually she seemed to reach the spot she wanted, a gloomy clearing shrouded in shadows. It fit the vibe - or Wednesday’s vibe at least - the shadows encompassed most of the main clearing and the sounds of the Academy were too faint for even your heightened hearing to pick up on.You looked at Wednesday for instruction and she merely gestured for you to lay down on the forest floor. You set the jug down and awkwardly arranged yourself over the ground, wincing and plucking out a few uncomfortable rocks under your spine.

Once you had gotten comfortable enough to be in the position for a good amount of time, you watched as Wednesday set down her bag on a log, retrieving her materials and standing there for a moment as she examined you, dark eyes roaming over your body. Was she scanning you for imperfections? Observing you to give you some tips on how to act more corpse-like? Or was it something else entirely?

You started to speak before you were cut off by the raven kneeling down at your side, bringing the sponge, an already slightly bloodied handkerchief, and the jug of blood over to begin. You didn’t flinch once as she began to carefully and precisely dab the blood onto specific spots of your clothing or skin.

You held as still as you can manage, save your baited breath as Wednesday delicately smeared a nice glob of thick blood over your neck, pausing only when she saw your muscles tense slightly. Her brows furrowed just barely as her hand hovered right above your neck, not moving.

Now, Wednesday Addams was certainly not a person who blushed; in fact you seriously doubted that she even had the capability to blush; you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. Instead you watched as her nose scrunched just the slightest bit, the freckled skin over her nose darkening faintly, eyes flickering to yours once as she muttered, “don’t move.”

You forced your muscles to relax, watching as she smeared another good portion of blood on the side of your neck, feeling the cold thick liquid slowly running down your collarbone as she hesitated yet again, seeming to get stuck watching the blood on your neck before continuing, acting as if it never happened, arranging the blood in a pattern that appeared to be extremely specific to what she required.

Once done she prepared her notebook and began writing, pencil moving at impressive speeds with expert precision as she occasionally glanced back at you for reference, muttering once in a while under her breath, eyebrows furling in concentration as she recorded her observations before she repeated the process all over again.

When you were receiving a nice bloodstain on your lower calf you felt a raindrop on your nose as the sky darkened further, a low rumble of thunder making itself heard throughout the woods. You glanced at the sky and felt your body tighten a little at another soft echo of thunder throughout the woods; you never liked storms but you definitely weren’t going to seem like a coward in front of Wednesday. Especially not now. So you bit your tongue, laid your head back against the moss and let her work, trying to ignore the precise, somewhat gentle touches accompanied by the sound of pencil on paper.

You found the whole situation odd yet fitting.

After a bit longer, Wednesday sighed and stood, taking down a last few notes before starting to pack up her bag, replacing her materials neatly.

“You may get up now.”

With relief you sat up, looking down at the new bloodstains on your leg and neck. You reached down to try and wipe it but it stained. You huffed slightly, realizing you were going to need a good shower when you returned. Your clothes could use a good wash too if you managed to wash the scent of pig blood out of them.

You sat up, brushing the loose dirt and forest debris off your shirt and pants, stretching your aching joints; somehow some tiny rocks had managed to find you spine nonetheless.

“Meet me in the fencing hall tomorrow night,” Wednesday stared at you for a moment, not bothering to thank you as she abruptly turned and started walking again.

You hurried after her, catching up easily as you were used to the forest terrain; when you caught up you huffed, “no thank you for my service?”

“I will display my regard for your work by improving your fighting skills instead of supplying you with empty compliments,” the raven looked up at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

You couldn’t resist a little roll of your eyes but you nodded. You never acknowledged the fact that you both knew she wouldn’t actually refuse to teach you how to fight. 

Or so you hoped.

As the two of you walked, a faint rumble echoed through the sky as a soft downpour began to rinse the forest. You felt the sprinkle wash away some of the lesser dried blood and you instinctively shook out your neck and hair a little bit, not a fan of wet hair or fur.

You continued walking, suddenly aware of Wednesday’s eyes on you once more. Observing you. Not with that same interest that she did when she was working. To you it appeared more inquisitive… slightly curious. Like you were a puzzle she was determined to solve. You pretended not to notice.

But you did. 

—————

pt.4 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.

Down on my knees