Too Sharp To Touch Pt.2

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!

Down on my knees

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!

👌

get to it

Summary: Lorraine is the only one who won't cause a scene when you go to the gym. Well. You thought Lorraine was the only one who wouldn't cause a scene at the gym.

Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: implications of smut, language, suggestive themes Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (Birb Cinematic Universe Masterlist)

“I’m heading out to the gym!” You called out from the entryway. A range of acknowledgements echoed down the stairs and you nodded to yourself as you grabbed your keys.

“Hang on.”

You froze, your head swinging around to see Lorraine grabbing her jacket from the hall closet. Well, clarification, she grabbed your jacket from the closet and slid it over her head. It swallowed her, almost dropping to her knees and hanging far past her fingers. With a barely concealed sigh, you offered her your hand and led her out of the house.

There was no way you were getting that jacket back.

It was a nice walk to the gym; late enough in the evening for most people to be at home, but not too late where it was pitch black outside. The spring air was full of pollen that had Lorraine sneezing nearly the entire walk. An adorable little kitten sneeze that you made sure to tease her for, leading to an even more adorable blush to dust her cheeks.

“Evening, kids,” Travis said when you and Lorraine stepped into the warm gym.

“Evening,” you both said in unison with small waves.

“Looking beautiful as always, Raine,” he said with a smile before turning around to continue sanitising some of the equipment.

“Thanks, Travis,” Lorraine said softly.

“Thanks, Travis,” you mocked as you pulled her in the opposite direction. “Don’t accept his compliment.”

“You can not be jealous of him,” Lorraine said with a raised brow and arms crossed over her chest. She stepped aside to let you start setting up for your first workout. “He says it every time.”

“I know he does,” you grumbled. The plate slid a little too fast and squashed your finger. And oh did it sting. “He needs to quit.”

“Don’t you think I’m beautiful?” She asked once you sat on the bench.

“Of course I do.”

If you hadn’t known Lorraine as well as you did, you would have missed the change. It was in the way she held herself, the slightest tilt at the corner of her lips, her eyes locking with yours. She stepped forward and rested her small hands on your shoulders, her smile growing a little bigger as she sat in your lap, one leg on either side of your hips.

“Then you have nothin’ to worry about,” she said before leaning forward to give you a quick kiss. Her hands pushed against your shoulders until you were laying flat on the bench. “Now get goin’.”

“I haven’t warmed up yet,” you said, but you really didn’t care. Not when Lorraine’s hands were starting to move from your shoulders down to your stomach.

“I think you’ll be alright,” she said as she slid her hands under your shirt to rest on your hips. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Oh. Oh, you shouldn’t have brought Lorraine.

With an audible gulp, you nodded to yourself and did your best to focus on the bar above you. If you could just get your workout down quickly, then you could go back home and give Lorraine what she wanted. Easy, right? You could probably even cut it short, claim to be too tired.

And once you felt Lorraine’s nails scratch lightly against your skin, your mind was made up. You were definitely going to cut it short. Your breath left you in frustrated huffs as she did everything in her power to make your workout an impossible task.

It started with her deciding to hold onto your waist and lean her weight on you when you attempted to push the bar up for your final rep. Normally it would have been too bad, but you felt the slightest movement of her hips against yours. Your breath caught in your throat at the action, but you thought nothing of it.

Until she did it again.

She gripped your waist to help her grind down into your lap. It was subtle - clever girl - but you felt it. Felt her nails lightly dig into your skin and her thighs tighten around your hips. Any control in your body vanished and the bar fell onto your chest, forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Focus, baby,” Lorraine said with a tilt of her head. “Just one more.”

It took everything in you to push that damn bar up and wrack it.

For the most part she behaved for the other few, though that didn’t mean you actually made any progress. Because no matter which one you decided on - whatever plan you had made beforehand had long been forgotten - she was there to be a distraction. Shamelessly letting her eyes roam over you, or running her hands over you when you were resetting, or even pulling you down into kisses that left your stomach in knots.

“How many more?” Lorraine asked when she let you go after kissing you so hard you couldn’t breathe right.

“I- uh-” you tried to blink the haze out of your mind.

“Use your words,” she whispered.

“Just- just- uh, just a finisher,” you managed to get out. “Then I’m done.”

“Then get going,” she said with a smile and a light pat on your chest.

She was having too much fun with the whole situation, that’s what she was doing. You grabbed her hand and took her over to the pullup bars hanging on the far wall. Travis waved to you both when you walked by, and Lorraine made it a point to wave and smile back. She could be such a dick.

You locked your fingers together and held your hands steady for Lorraine to step up on. It was a joint effort, but she quickly found herself sitting atop the pullup bars, her legs hanging over and swinging carelessly. With the hood of your jacket now firmly pulled over her head, she looked adorable. Nothing like the minx she had been for the past hour.

With a deep breath in, you wiped your hands on your sweats to get them nice and dry. Then, without any chance to change your mind, you jumped up just enough to grab the pullup bar. Only a second of readjustment, and you pulled yourself up, feeling the burn of your muscles from the past hour of workouts.

Lorraine leaned forward and gave you a peck on the lips when you were up all the way, and for a moment, you were rejuvenated. Your pulse was racing and the fatigue in your body disappeared when you lowered yourself back down. The second pullup, she gave you another quick kiss, and you smiled at her before lowering yourself back down.

But then she made you suffer.

You pulled yourself up for the third time and expected nothing more than a quick, light kiss. Nothing scandalous, nothing distracting, a welcome encouragement to keep going. Something that she usually did when she came to the gym with you.

But this time was different. The moment your head popped above the bar again, you felt Lorraine’s hands grab the collar of your shirt and hold you tight. Your back and shoulders and arms already started to ache when you felt her lips on yours. It wasn’t a quick kiss, it was much hungrier, more needy.

Her tongue swept across your bottom lip and without hesitation you parted your lips slightly. She sighed into your mouth and leaned closer. Your arms started to shake when she let her hands trail up your neck and to your cheeks where she held you just as steady.

Lorraine overtook all your senses. The smell of her body wash, the warmth of her fingers on your skin, the taste of her on your tongue, the soft sighs she let out. She had you completely captivated and all you wanted to do was pull her in, envelop yourself in her.

Your muscles didn’t agree.

With a whispered yelp, your grip gave out and you fell back to the ground. You could feel your upper body visibly shake from fatigue as Lorraine climbed down without a care in the world. Her feet hit the foam ground with a soft thud before she walked over and placed her hands on your chest.

“Seems like a good workout,” she said, letting her eyes roam over you again before meeting your own. “We should head home.”

“Gonna reward me?” You asked with a raised brow. Her smile gave her away.

“Of course,” she said. “I think you’ve earned it.”

“I think so too,” you said. You reached out to grab her hips and pull her closer to you, the smell of her shampoo becoming all-encompassing once again.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

She grabbed your hand and started pulling you out of the gym. You made sure to wave to Travis - taking note that Lorraine gave a half-hearted goodbye - and let her lead the way. Your hand was still shaking, and your arms felt like jello, but her hand felt warm in yours.

It was almost comical how quickly Lorraine walked to get home. She didn’t tell anyone hi when she walked into the house, barely even giving you time to shut the door before dragging you up to her room. Her foot closed the door as she shoved you to the bed and quickly climbed on top of you after removing her sweats.

“I forgot to tell you something,” you said when her hands found their way to your bare waist once again. She cocked her head to listen without taking her eyes off the small expanse of skin she had exposed. “I think I’m a bit too fatigued to help you out.”

She froze.

“Beg pardon?” She asked, her eyes wide and searching yours.

“That finisher killed me,” you said with a shrug. “I can’t be of any help tonight.”

She blinked rapidly twice.

“But-”

“-Don’t let me stop you though,” you interrupted. You sat up and placed your own hands on her hips; it always amazed you how soft her skin was. “Go on. Get your reward.”

She looked into your eyes before looking down to where she was straddling your thigh. Her hips moved against your thigh experimentally, a soft sigh falling from her lips as her eyes fell shut. It was mesmerising, watching her grind against your thigh in practically nothing more than your jacket. She was definitely a beautiful sight.

You were brought back to the present when she let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s not enough,” she practically whined, staring you down with her beautiful brown eyes. Usually that worked.

But not that time.

“If you wanted help, you shouldn’t have worked me so hard,” you said with a shrug. Her jaw dropped.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

“As a heart attack,” you answered with your own smile. You lightly pinched her hip and gestured to her with your head as you waited for her to continue. “Guess you better get to it, sweetheart.”

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!