☆ V, Liz, or anything you wish to call me, really | She/Her
ⓘ Fyi: English isn’t my first language, so grammar mistakes can appear
⚠︎ DNI: Minors (or atleast like half, bc I know damn well ya'll reading fics anyways, so atleast stay away from the NSFW ones on my acc)
⚠︎ WHAT I DON’T WRITE: Incest, any bodily fluid | I will update this list as I go, so please be aware that changes may happen | I can (and will) delete your ask if it makes me uncomfortable
🃚 WHAT I WRITE/FANDOMS: Anything that has to do with Jenna Ortega + Emma Myers, Hotd, K-pop, Resident Evil, Assassin’s Creed, Mafia, Star Wars, Scream, DC, Marvel, Sweetpea, Yellowjackets, Ice Skating, Obsession, Transformers, Stranger Things etc.
🃖 HONESTLY JUST SEND AN ASK OF ANYTHING YOU LIKE. I’M IN TOO MANY FANDOMS, I WILL DECIDE THEN IF I WRITE IT OR NOT
🃁 Please don't copy/translate my fics, atleast not without asking
🂺 REQUESTS: OPEN (and empty.. pls send some) (⚠︎ can take a while to be written)
QUICK PSA: Generally, for everyone that wants to send asks but isn't sure: I personally think it's better to write diverse experiences with care than just to advoid them fully out of fear of doing something wrong. I'll try my best to always write everything thoughtfully and open for everyone (unless specified, but otherwise no description of skin tones or hair structure or anything else for reader), but if I do accidentally write something insensitive or inaccurate, please, please correct me. I would rather wish to learn and improve than be forever ignorant to my actions.
can you make a scenario with Bianca finding out that reader is WAY more dominant than she thought..? Preferably wlw please.
I hope this is what you wanted Anon... first non Weds Wednesday request 😭 a milestone yall
Info/Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
(Aged Up Characters)
Synopsis: What the ask says
The door to your shared dorm room clicked shut, and Bianca's confidence faltered for the first time this evening.
You'd been dating for three months. Three months of stolen kisses in the greenhouse, of her falling asleep on your shoulder during movie nights. Three months of building intimacy that somehow, despite everything, hadn't yet led here.
Bianca had planned this. Planned exactly how it would go, the lighting, the music, the way she'd guide you through it with the same effortless control she used over every other aspect of her life.
But now, standing in the center of your room with her heart hammering against her ribs, she found herself hesitating.
"Come here," you said softly, and something in your tone made her shiver. She crossed to you, and reached for the buttons of your shirt. "Let me.."
Your hand caught hers, gentle but firm. Bianca looked up, confused, and found your gaze dark with an intensity she'd never seen directed at her before.
"Not tonight," you murmured, and then your free hand was tilting her head back as your mouth descended on hers.
You walked her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she sat down hard, staring up at you with wide eyes as you stood over her, already pulling your shirt over your head.
"Take off your clothes," you said, and it wasn't a request.
Bianca's fingers trembled as she obeyed, stripping out of her clotheswith far less grace than she usually possessed. She'd expected to be the one giving commands, the one setting the tempo. Instead, she sat naked on the edge of the mattress, watching you with her breath coming in shallow gasps.
You pushed her back onto the bed and crawled over her, your body a warm weight that pinned her to the sheets. Your mouth found her throat, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, each kiss unhurried. When you finally closed your lips around her nipple, Bianca gasped, her back arching off the mattress.
"Easy," you soothed, your hand pressing her hip back down, holding her still. "Let me."
Your hand on her hip was firm, controlling, and Bianca found herself melting into the sensation, her usual need to dominate dissolving under the heat of your attention.
You worked your way down her body with patience, your mouth tracing patterns across her stomach, her hipbones, the insides of her thighs. When you finally settled between her legs, Bianca was already trembling, her hands fisting in the sheets above her head because she didn't know what else to do with them.
"Look at me," you commanded, and she forced her eyes open, meeting your gaze over the plane of her own body.
You didn't break eye contact as you leaned in, your tongue finding her with a slow stroke that had her crying out and trying to close her legs from the sudden intensity. Your hands caught her knees, holding them open, keeping her exposed and vulnerable as you continued your assault.
You were playing her body like you already knew it, reading every gasp and shiver, adjusting your rhythm to keep her hovering on the edge without letting her fall.
"Please," she heard herself whimper, the word foreign and desperate on her tongue. "Please, I need-"
"I know what you need," you murmured against her thigh, your breath hot against her oversensitive skin. "But you're going to wait until I'm ready to give it to you."
The authority in your voice sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and Bianca moaned, her head falling back as you returned your attention to her, your tongue circling her clit with maddening precision.
When you finally slid two fingers into her, curling them to find that spot that made her see stars, Bianca's orgasm crashed over her with devastating force. She cried out your name, her body shaking, her hands finally finding purchase in your hair, not to guide, but to anchor herself as she came apart beneath you.
But you didn't stop.
You gentled your touch but kept moving, drawing out her pleasure until she was oversensitive, until tears pricked at her eyes and she was begging you, actually begging, to let her recover.
"One more," you whispered, your voice thick with desire, and Bianca realized with a shock that you were enjoying this. Enjoying unraveling her, piece by piece.
The second orgasm built slowly, your fingers working her with relentless patience while your mouth soothed her trembling thighs. When it finally broke over her, her body bowed off the bed as you rode her through it, your grip on her hips keeping her exactly where you wanted her.
After, you crawled up her body and gathered her into your arms, pressing kisses to her temple as she trembled against you, her breathing ragged and her mind blissfully blank.
"Okay?" you asked softly, your hand stroking down her back.
Bianca laughed, the sound breathless and wonderstruck. "Better than okay."
"Your turn," she whispered, her confidence slowly returning as she pressed a kiss to your jaw.
You smiled against her hair, your arms tightening around her. "In a minute. I like holding you like this."
Gender neutral reader x Wednesday, and reader needs glasses, but never wears them. They can't read much without them, + other stuff I'm too lazy to name off
Info/Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
Wednesday didn't realize you needed glasses. At first, she only noticed little habits.
You always chose the front row in class, even when your friends preferred the back. You held menus and books a little closer than everyone else, then casually pushed them away after a minute as if you'd simply lost interest. When someone waved from across the quad, you hesitated just long enough to figure out who they were before waving back.
They were the sort of things most people overlooked.
Wednesday didn't.
She filed them away without thinking much of them, assuming there was a pattern she hadn't identified yet.
The answer came a few weeks later.
The two of you were studying in the library, sharing one of the larger tables. Wednesday had been reading uninterrupted for a while when she looked up and found you staring at the page you'd been on since you'd sat down.
You leaned closer to the book, frowned, blinked a few times, then rubbed at your eyes before letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh.
"You haven't turned the page once."
You looked down at the book and laughed awkwardly.
"I kind of... can't."
She closed her own book.
"What do you mean?"
You hesitated, the kind of hesitation that told her you were deciding whether this was worth admitting.
"I forgot my glasses."
Wednesday glanced around the table. "I've never seen you wear glasses."
"Because I usually don't." "Why?"
You shrugged, though it looked more uncomfortable than casual. "I don't know. I don't like them."
It wasn't the whole answer. Wednesday could tell. She waited.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The library was quiet around you, filled with the soft turning of pages and distant footsteps.
Then Wednesday reached across the table.
Without a word, she rotated your textbook so it sat between you instead of in front of you.
"I'll read." You looked up. "You don't have to."
"I know."
She simply began reading where you'd stopped, occasionally pausing so you could copy down notes or ask a question. She never made a comment about your eyesight, never sounded impatient, and never acted as though she were doing you a favor.
After that day, Wednesday noticed how much energy you spent pretending everything was fine.
You squinted at noticeboards instead of walking closer. You recognized people by their voices because faces blurred together from a distance.
You'd smile and nod through conversations where someone pointed at something across the room, hoping they wouldn't ask if you'd actually seen it.
Once, she watched you confidently wave at who you thought was Enid. It turned out to be Thornhill's replacement.
You didn't realize until they waved back with visible confusion. You laughed it off, but Wednesday saw the embarrassment settle across your face.
She didn't mention it.
A few evenings later, she stopped by your dorm without knocking. You were curled up on your bed with a novel, your glasses finally resting on your face.
For the first time since she'd met you, you weren't squinting. Your expression was relaxed, your eyes moving smoothly across the page instead of stopping every few lines.
You looked comfortable. You noticed her a second later and instinctively reached up to pull the glasses off.
"I don't understand why you remove them."
You looked down at the frames in your hands.
"They're not exactly flattering."
"They're- You can see."
"True."
She studied you for a long moment before speaking again.
"I prefer you wearing them."
That caught you off guard.
"You do?"
"You don't spend half your attention compensating for something that has a simple solution."
You looked at her for a moment before giving a small, almost shy smile.
"I didn't think you'd notice." "I notice everything."
You laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess you do."
Wednesday stepped closer and, after a brief hesitation that was unusual for her, gently adjusted the slightly crooked frames on your face.
"There." You blinked. "Better?"
"They were crooked." "I meant me."
Her hand lingered for just a second before dropping back to her side.
Could I request something where reader is pranking Wednesday, like Wednesday drinking out of something, and we just wipe it before drinking ourselves, I always find those funny 😂
This was requested at the beginning of March... I am so sorry Anon 😭
Didn't write for a while because I just moved recently and due to that I am adjusting to a new job.. being employed ugh 💔💔
Info/Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
The two of you were sitting in the greenhouse after classes. It was quiet except for the occasional rustle of plants and the scratching of Wednesday's pen as she annotated a botany text.
Beside her sat a bottle of iced black tea.
She picked it up, took a slow sip, and set it back down without looking away from her book.
You smiled, and an awful idea bloomed immediately. Without saying a word, you reached over and picked up the bottle.
Wednesday noticed from the corner of her eye but said nothing.
You pulled the sleeve of your sweater over your hand, and wiped the rim of the bottle. Right where she'd just been drinking.
Only then did you take a sip, and set the bottle back exactly where it had been.
"..."
"..."
Wednesday finally looked up, her eyes went first to the bottle, then to your sleeve, then to you.
"...Explain."
You looked up innocently. "Hm?"
"You cleaned the rim." "I did." "Why?"
You shrugged. "Germs." Wednesday stared. "You've stolen food off my plate."
"True." "We kiss." "Also true."
"So why," she asked slowly, "did you suddenly decide to wipe the bottle?"
You tried very hard not to smile.
"I guess I changed." "You don't change."
"I can." "No." She continued staring, deeply suspicious.
Finally, she picked the bottle back up. "You expect me to react."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You've developed an involuntary twitch beneath your left eye whenever you lie."
You instinctively reached toward your face.
Wednesday nodded once.
"I hate that you know that."
"I know many things."
She looked at the bottle again. "I am confused."
"Am?" "I concluded you are attempting to imply I possess objectionable hygiene."
You burst out laughing. "No!"
"No?"
"It was a prank!"
Wednesday's eyebrows rose a fraction. "An exceptionally poor one."
"You still fell for it." "I indulged it." "You absolutely fell for it!”
Im kinda new to this requesting thing so do try to ignore me oozing awkwardness out of your screen :D
But ive recently tripped and fallen back into the Wednesday rabbit hole, and I wanted to request a scenario where the female reader is, like, unintentionally flirty with everyone at Nevermore, and no one can tell whether she's being serious or and that includes Wednesday, and then one day she just has enough it and grabs her, pulls her into a closet and... yk
(preferably dom! reader)
Again, very awkward, but thank youu <3
Thank you for the request Anon! It's been resting in my inbox a long time... sorry for that, but it's finally finished. Hope you like it, if you even see it now 😭
And!!! Like I am a hairy Wednesday defender (where are the freaky anons man), I am also a subby Wednesday one.. ease her out of her shell mhmhmh
Info/Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
(Aged Up Characters)
Synopsis: What the ask says
The halls of Nevermore Academy had become a minefield of misinterpretation, and you were the unwitting architect of the shitshow.
It wasn't really intentional. You'd simply developed a habit of looking at people too long, of leaning in when they spoke, of touching their arms when you laughed at their jokes. You complimented freely, sharing your genuine observations about someone's aesthetic, their intellect, the way they carried themselves. But your warmth registered as something else entirely.
Bianca had cornered you twice, certain you were making a move. Xavier had spent three weeks agonizing over whether to ask you to the raven dance. Enid had blushed herself into a state every time you praised her color coordination.
And then there was Wednesday.
She watched you with the intensity of a predator studying prey that didn't realize it was being hunted. Her dark eyes followed you through the cafeteria, across the quad, into the library.
"You're playing a dangerous game," she'd told you once, materializing beside you in the greenhouse.
"I'm not playing anything," you'd replied, genuinely confused.
"That’s what makes it dangerous."
She'd walked away, leaving you staring after her, wondering if that was Wednesday's version of flirtation or a threat.
The truth was simpler and more complicated than anyone realized: you found Wednesday Addams fascinating. Not in the way the other students did, not as a curiosity or a challenge. You were drawn to her, her honesty, the structure of her mind. When you spoke to her, you weren't flirting, you just were engaged. Fully, completely, unguardedly engaged in the conversation.
And Wednesday couldn't parse your intentions.
Was this seduction? Manipulation? Genuine connection? The uncertainty gnawed at her. You'd find her staring at you during class, her pen frozen above her notebook, analyzing your every micro-expression.
It came to a head on a Thursday afternoon, rain lashing against the windows. You'd been helping Enid organize and your hand had brushed hers when reaching for the same box. You'd smiled, just smiled, and said something about how her energy made the room brighter.
Enid had practically combusted.
Wednesday had witnessed the entire exchange from the doorway, her expression carefully blank, her fingers white-knuckled around the handle of her cello case.
You'd turned, caught her gaze, and offered that same devastatingly open smile. "Wednesday. I was hoping I'd run into you. I wanted to ask about that theory you mentioned-"
"Not here," she'd said, voice tight.
You'd followed her, chattering about the reading assignment, completely oblivious to the tension coiling in her shoulders, the way her jaw worked as she led you through the winding corridors of Nevermore, away from prying eyes, away from the noise.
She'd opened the door to a supply closet, dim, cramped, shelves of cleaning supplies, and stepped inside, expecting you to keep walking.
You'd followed her in.
The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly the space was too small, filled with the scent of cedar and dust and Wednesday's particular perfume.
"Wednesday?"
"Stop it," she said, turning on you. Her eyes burned in the dim light. "Stop looking at everyone like that. Stop touching them. Stop saying things that make them think you-" She stopped, frustration evident in the rare crack in her composure.
"Think I what?"
"Want them."
You stared at her, genuinely bewildered. "I don't, I'm not trying to-"
"Then what are you trying to do?" She advanced a step, backing you against the shelves. "Because Bianca is convinced you're in love with her. Enid can't sleep because she keeps replaying every conversation you've had. And I-" She stopped again, her chest rising and falling with uncharacteristic rapidity.
"And you?" you asked quietly.
Wednesday's mouth snapped shut. She looked trapped, cornered, and for a moment you saw something vulnerable beneath the mask.
"I can't tell," she admitted, the words pulled from her like teeth. "I can't tell if you're performing for me too. If this is another layer of the game. If you look at me the way you look at everyone else, or if-" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I won't be made a fool of."
All the confusion, all the misread signals, all the weeks of watching Wednesday watch you with those unreadable eyes.
"You're an idiot," you said softly.
Her eyes widened, affronted.
You moved before she could retreat, your hands finding her face, your thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. She went rigid, every muscle locking, her hands coming up to grip your wrists, but she didn't push you away.
"You want to know if I'm serious?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper. "You want to know if this is a performance?"
You kissed her.
Not the gentle, tentative brush of a first kiss. You kissed her like you were drowning and she was air, your fingers sliding into her dark hair, tilting her head back, claiming her mouth with a hunger that had been building for months. Wednesday made a sound against your lips, surprised, guttural, and then she was kissing you back, her hands abandoning your wrists to grip your hips, pulling you flush against her.
When you broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Wednesday's lips were swollen, her eyes blown wide, her usual composure in ruins.
"Still think I'm flirting with everyone?" you asked, your voice rough.
She didn't answer. Her hands were shaking where they gripped your waist.
You kissed her again, softer this time, coaxing her mouth open, tasting the black tea and something uniquely Wednesday. Your hands moved down her throat, over the collar of her uniform, finding the buttons quickly.
"What are you doing?" she breathed against your mouth.
"Showing you exactly how serious I am."
You dropped to your knees.
Wednesday's hands flew to your shoulders, her nails digging in through your shirt. "We can't!"
"Then be quiet," you murmured, your hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the heavy fabric of her skirt upward. "And let me show you what I've been thinking about every time you stare at me across the classroom."
She was wearing black lace, of course she was, and you pressed your mouth to the fabric, feeling her shudder against you. The scent of her arousal hit you, heady and intoxicating, and you groaned, gripping her hips tighter.
"You're-" Wednesday's voice broke as you mouthed her through the lace. "You're actually-"
"Mm." You looked up at her, meeting her wide, dark eyes. "I've been thinking about this since the day you told me my optimism was 'fascinating.' About tasting you. About making you lose that perfect control."
You hooked your fingers in the lace and pulled it down, revealing her. She was already wet, flushed, and you didn't waste time, leaning in to drag your tongue through her folds.
Wednesday's head fell back against the door with a thud, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a cry. You took your time, learning her. Soft, teasing strokes at first, circling her clit with the tip of your tongue, listening to the way her breath hitched, the way her thighs trembled against your shoulders.
"You're- oh-" She couldn't finish sentences, her hips rolling involuntarily toward your mouth.
You gripped her thigh with one hand, holding her steady, and used the other to part her, opening her to you completely. You licked into her, deep and slow, savoring the taste of her, the way she gasped and shuddered. You'd imagined this, God, you'd imagined this, but the reality was better, the way she responded to every touch, every flick of your tongue, her usual reserve cracking open to reveal the raw, needy woman beneath.
You focused on her clit, sucking gently, flicking rapidly with your tongue, feeling her tension build. Her fingers tangled in your hair, not guiding, just holding on, her nails scraping against your scalp in a way that made you moan against her.
"Don't stop," she whispered, and the desperation in her voice sent heat pooling in your stomach. "Don’t"
You slid two fingers into her, curling them, and she came apart with a silent cry. Her body arched, her muscles clamping down around your fingers, and you kept working her through it, licking and stroking until she was oversensitive, pushing at your shoulders.
You pulled back slowly, pressing gentle kisses to her trembling thighs, looking up at her with a satisfied smile.
Wednesday was wrecked. Her hair was disheveled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She stared down at you like she'd never seen you before.
"Well," she said, her voice hoarse. "That was... educational."
You laughed, rising to your feet, your knees protesting. You cupped her face, kissing her gently, letting her taste herself on your lips. "Still think I'm flirting with everyone?"
She was quiet for a long moment, her hands coming up to rest on your chest. "No," she said finally. "I think you're fixated."
"Good." You kissed her again. "Because you're the only one I look at like that, Wednesday. You just couldn't see it."
She rested her forehead against yours, her breathing still uneven. "I see it now."
"Yeah?"
"Quite vividly." A ghost of her usual smirk returned. "Though I may require additional... demonstrations. To be certain."
You grinned, pressing her back against the door. "I think that can be arranged.”
Haiii! I really liked ur Wednesday Addams works and would like to request one!!
I was thinking gender neutral reader or fem reader , and one day Reader is excitedly hugging an other girl, which Wednesday is jealous of. But it turns out its readers sister?
You don’t have to do this but thank you if you do!! 🎍
I don't even know anymore 🎍 Anon 💔💔 this is so short but I cannot use my braincells anymore. And thank you so much !!
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
Wednesday never really felt jealous, she found it inefficient, primitive. A really annoying distraction from more productive pursuits, like her investigations or strategies.
Which is why she knew, immediately, that something was wrong, because when she crossed the courtyard of Nevermore, her gaze landed on you, and you were wrapped around someone else.
Arms tight around another girl’s shoulders, face buried against her neck, laughing, laughing, in that way you didn’t do for just anyone, and the girl hugged you back just as tightly, spinning you once like she had every right to.
Wednesday stopped walking, students moved around her, voices carried, but all of it dulled to her, sharpened down to a single, irritating point of focus.
You.
And her.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
The girl was unfamiliar. Not a Nevermore student, but she was too comfortable, too familiar and too close with you.
You didn’t notice her at first, since you were too busy grinning, pulling back just enough to cup the girl’s face, still talking too fast, too bright.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!”
“Because I wanted to surprise you,” the girl said, laughing. “Clearly, it worked.”
“It did, you idiot!”
You shoved her lightly, only to pull her right back into another hug, Wednesday arrived within earshot just in time to watch that happen.
And she could feel her patience thinning.
You turned then, and finally saw her, your face lighting up"
“Oh, Wednesday!”
The warmth in your voice did nothing to improve her sour mood, and she approached, gaze flicking once more over the stranger. Maybe a little assessing, and unimpressed.
“You appear occupied,” Wednesday said.
You blinked, then laughed softly. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t see you. This is-”
“She didn’t,” the girl cut in, looking between the two of you with immediate, unmistakable interest. “You’re Wednesday.”
Wednesday chose to ignore her, instead, she looked at you. “You neglected to inform me of this… visit.”
“Because I didn’t know!” you said quickly. “She just showed up.”
“Unannounced arrivals are rarely benign.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered. “She’s not a threat.” “That remains to be seen.”
The girl laughed under her breath. “I like her.” “I’m not trying to be likable.” “Even better.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly.
You sighed, stepping between them just enough to defuse the tension. “Okay, pause. Wednesday, this is my sister.”
Wednesday’s expression didn’t really change, only a bit of her posture. A small tension relief in her shoulders.
Can I get a Wednesday x stoic vampire reader pls. Fem! Preferably
Sorry that this took so long 💔💔 hope it is what you wanted, even if it's super short
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
I can see Wednesday immediately becoming interested because, for once, she's met someone who makes her feel like the more expressive one!!!
Like, your first conversation lasts seven minutes 😭 and six of those minutes are silence.
Her trying to figure out what you're thinking>>
But unfortunately for her, your face remains exactly the same regardless of whether you're happy, annoyed, sleepy, or plotting murder (her favourite).
The first time she manages to make you laugh, it is barely visible, maybe a tiny smile, or a slight huff of amusement. And she’ll feel so prideful!!
Her unconsciously matching your pace.. and you both communicate largely through eye contact, with everyone else finding it deeply unsettling.
Wednesday loves that you're difficult to impress, like she can show you a centuries-old murder case and get a nod. A crypt full of skeletons? A nod. Her becoming determined to earn stronger reactions.
Being secretly amused by how transparent Wednesday becomes once she develops feelings.
The two of you spend an absurd amount of time together in silence, just reading, studying, like there’s no pressure to fill the silence.
When she gets injured during an investigation, you're the one who patches her up.
Her trusting your judgment more than almost anyone else's. If you tell her something is a bad idea, she'll actually reconsider, even if just briefly.
Your relationship is so low-key that some students don't realize you're together 😭
I had a Wednesday request but I understand if you don't want to write it. Sometimes people don't like writing about disabilities they don't have because they're worried about being offensive on accident.
Could I request Wednesday x goth female reader? She's her legally blind girlfriend who's always wanted to learn cello, but her eyesight is 20/200 and even with glasses on it's hard to see sheet music.
For reference: One of my eyes is 20/200, the left one is 20/400, I don't have peripheral vision, and I barely have depth perception to the point where I've almost fallen off the curb outside of stores multiple times. I've also got glasses with a small telescope at the top of them. So when I tilt my head down I can look through it and see stuff closer from farther away.
Hi Anon, sorry that it took so long to write this. I hope I wrote it in a way that's fine, but I'm not sure. Please tell me if I did anything wrong there 🙏
ANYWAYS!!! All the other anons I swear I'll do your asks, I've just been very stressed since I'm in the middle of exam season.
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
The first time Wednesday heard you mention wanting to learn cello, she assumed it was hypothetical, a passing interest, and maybe an aesthetic fascination.
The thought came from most people who liked the idea of instruments more than the discipline required to master them.
Then she found you alone in one of Nevermore’s unused music rooms at nearly midnight, sitting cross-legged beside a borrowed cello from the school with your glasses slipping down your nose and a sheet music stand pulled so absurdly close to your face it was almost touching you.
Wednesday stopped in the doorway, which you didn’t notice.
Your telescope lens caught the low light as you tilted your head down, trying to focus through it. One hand held the edge of the stand steady while the other awkwardly traced over the notes with your finger.
You sighed, pretty frustrated.
Wednesday watched your shoulders slump slightly.
“You’re struggling,” she said. You startled so hard the bow nearly slipped from your lap. “Jesus Christ-"
You pressed a hand to your chest. “You move like a ghost.” Wednesday stepped closer, gaze flicking over the setup. How the stand was pulled close, the enlarged photocopies scattered beside you.
The way you kept tilting your head downward to catch the notes through the tiny telescope in your glasses.
And the cello itself, held pretty carefully. Like something you desperately wanted to love correctly.
“You’re still awake,” you muttered. “So are you.”
You huffed softly and looked back toward the music. “I was trying to practice before everyone else started using the rooms tomorrow.”
“Your left hand positioning is wrong.”
You looked up at her flatly. “I literally haven’t even started playing.”
“Yes, but you’re still doing it incorrectly.”
Wednesday moved beside you before you could argue, and her fingers adjusted your wrist with care.
“You’re compensating for your depth perception,” she observed quietly, and you blinked.
Most people noticed eventually, but Wednesday noticed everything quickly. “You can tell?”
“You nearly walked directly into Xavier’s easel yesterday.”
“In my defense, he puts those things everywhere.” “You also missed the last stair outside Ophelia Hall.”
You groaned. “Okay, enough evidence.”
Wednesday ignored that. Instead, she focused on the music stand, studying the sheets.
“These copies are too small.”
“They’re enlarged already.”
“Insufficiently.”
You watched her carefully. “I can usually manage if I use the telescope lens.”
As if to demonstrate, you tilted your head downward slightly, peering through the tiny magnified section at the top of your glasses.
Wednesday’s gaze followed the movement.
“You hate doing that,” she said suddenly.
You paused.
“…what?”
“The angle strains your neck. And you lose awareness of your surroundings while focusing.”
You stared at her. That was kinda true.
“I mean,” you said carefully, “yeah, kinda.”
Wednesday straightened. “Then we’ll eliminate the problem.”
You blinked. “We?” She dragged a chair over and sat closely beside you, her knee brushing yours. “Play the scale you were attempting.”
You laughed weakly. “Bold of you to assume I know how.” “You know the basics.” “Barely.”
“Play.”
There was no escaping that tone.
So you adjusted the cello awkwardly against yourself, trying not to think too hard about how embarrassingly inexperienced you were under the scrutiny of someone who’d been playing since childhood.
Your fingers found the strings uncertainly. The bow trembled slightly.
You missed the angle. The note screeched.
You physically recoiled.
“Again.
“That sounded like an animal dying.”
“Yes.”
You glared at her, Wednesday stared back, perfectly calm.
And then her hand covered yours on the bow. And your breath caught.
“Your pressure is uneven,” she said quietly. She guided your wrist slightly lower.
“There.”
Her other hand adjusted your fingers on the string. “You’re overcompensating because you can’t judge the distance visually,” she murmured. “So stop relying on your eyes.”
You looked at her. “Huh?”
“Feel it instead.” Her fingers tapped lightly against the string positions.
“Memorize spacing. Tension. Vibration.” Her eyes met yours. “Your body can learn what your vision struggles to confirm.”
Wednesday adjusted your grip again.
“Try now.”
You swallowed and pulled the bow across the strings once more, the note still wasn’t perfect, still sucked, but it was cleaner..
Your eyes widened slightly.
Wednesday noticed immediately. “There,” she said softly.
The weeks after that turned into a routine.
She started modifying sheet music for you without being asked, in a large print, with high contrast.
Sometimes she memorized entire pieces so she could recite the transitions quietly beside you when you lost your place.
One evening, long after midnight, you finally caught her watching you instead of the music.
“What?” “You’re improving.”
You snorted softly. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“I am.” “Oh, wow, rude.” “You were bad initially.”
You laughed despite yourself, and admitted quietly: “I almost gave up before you started helping.”
Then you asked softly, “Why do you care so much?”
For a moment, silence stretched between you. She reached forward and adjusted your glasses gently where they’d slipped down your nose.
“Because,” she said quietly, “I enjoy hearing you play.” “Even when it sounds terrible?”
May I request Wednesday x Reader, where Wednesday basically starts acting like Gomez without realizing it? She is totally very down bad for the Reader like how Gomez is for Morticia ( The Forsaken Addam's curse /silly )
There anon, I hope it's okay. It's a fun concept, I think I'll write a story sometime bout this
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
It starts subtly, with Wednesday beginning to linger, to stand closer, to watch you longer than necessary.
She starts complimenting you (pretty badly though) “Your presence is less intolerable than most.” or smth like that.
Somewhere along the way, she develops a habit of kissing your hand.
Wednesday begins orbiting you. She appears wherever you are, in the library, courtyard, hallway, as if summoned.
Physical affection increases in very specific ways, not really soft or clingy. Grabbing your hand and pulling you away mid-conversation, kissing your knuckles.
She starts staring at you like you’re a piece of art she’s trying to memorize before it’s destroyed.
Thing notices immediately and encourages it. This only makes it worse.
She gets offended when you’re not near her.
Wednesday begins to monologue about you without realizing it.
She becomes fiercely, almost theatrically loyal, like if someone insults you, she reacts like it’s a personal attack on her entire bloodline.
If you encourage her even slightly, it escalates fast. Compliment her once and suddenly she’s looking at you like she’d burn the world down for you.
She starts doing small, obsessive things: memorizing your schedule, adjusting her routine to match yours, noticing when you’re even slightly off.
Sleep becomes a shared activity whether she admits it or not. She just ends up next to you more often.
She doesn’t realize how obvious it is until someone points it out, probably Enid.
ILL RN SO NEED THIS, Wednesday x sick reader PLZZZZ #tonselitusisnotfortheweak
Get well soon Anon.. for the other Anon's it's the usual, I'm on it 😭🙏 (jst made hcs bcus Anon ily but I just cannot, hope it's still enough)
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
Wednesday initially assumes you’re exaggerating. “A sore throat cannot possibly incapacitate you this thoroughly.”
Then she sees you attempt to swallow water and physically wince.
She’s so gonna research tonsillitis like she’s preparing for war (if she doesn’t already know everything). She returns with concerning amounts of information.
“You’ll live,” she says flatly while handing you medicine and tea she somehow made perfectly.
She acts deeply inconvenienced by your illness while taking care of you with terrifying dedication.
If you lose your voice, she secretly likes it a little. Not because you’re suffering, honestly just because your tiny croaky responses amuse her.
You try to say something and it comes out sounding like a dying Victorian child.
She absolutely forces you to rest.
If you complain about not being able to eat properly, she quietly starts bringing you softer foods without asking what you want.
Wednesday pretends she doesn’t care when you cling to her more while sick, but she never moves away. If anything, she stays longer than usual.
She sits beside your bed reading while you doze off, occasionally checking your temperature with her fingers against your forehead.
She does not tolerate other people bothering you while you’re sick. Enid bursts in loudly once and Wednesday practically materializes behind her.
You catch her watching you sleep at least once.
Physical affection becomes strangely constant during this time. Her hand on your back while you cough, fingers absentmindedly rubbing your wrist, letting you lay against her chest because it “keeps you still.”
The moment you start feeling better, she becomes annoying again immediately. “Good. Your whining was becoming repetitive.”
Meanwhile she still hands you water before you ask.
Afterward, she denies being worried at all. Thing exposes her by revealing she checked your temperature sixteen times in one night.
Plsss do Wednesday Hcs for a girly reader! I just think it’d be interesting to see how’d it play out ☺️
I hope this okay, I dont know. Wrote this after a shit night on the trip and am too lazy to reread
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
At first glance, you make absolutely no sense to her. With your pastels, perfume, soft laughter, Wednesday assumes you’ll be shallow. She is wrong, and she hates being wrong.
And the moment she realizes you’re not fragile, just expressive, her interest spikes immediately.
You will call her “pretty.” and she stares at you like you’ve committed a crime. “I am not pretty.” “You literally are.”
Your worlds clash aesthetically but blend emotionally, because you’re her warmth, she’s your stillness. You’re her color in the world, and she’s your shadow.
One thing I can see is doing her hair and she pretends to tolerate it. Secretly, she enjoys you doing her hair even more than when she does it herself.
If you put something pink (or honestly, anything non black) on her (a ribbon, a clip, lip gloss as a joke), she will threaten you, but she won’t take it off immediately.
Wednesday doesn’t understand your love for things like romance, gossip, or cute aesthetics… until she starts associating them with you.
You ramble, she listens. It’s not always visibly, but she remembers everything you say.
She learns your routines: your favorite lip gloss, how you like your nails, which outfits make you feel confident. She will never comment directly, but she will (!!) notice when something changes.
If someone underestimates you because you’re “girly,” Wednesday takes it personally.
You’re physically affectionate. She is not, or atleast, not at first.
She lets you hold her hand in public eventually which then becomes your thing. She won’t initiate, but she won’t pull away either.
She grounds you when your emotions get overwhelming, with the calmest voice.
Absolutely keeps something of yours with her. A ribbon, a hair tie, a note.
In private, she’s more affectionate than anyone would believe, with her seeking you out, sitting close, letting herself exist near you.
You say “I love you” freely and she says it rarely, but when she does, it’s impossible to doubt.
Possible request! Wednesday and reader go to a dorm party together or something like the raven if you prefer, readers more social, Wednesday just sort of sticks with the people she knows as she would and you’ve got all the characters there mingling. They eventually leave together when’s Wednesdays clearly had enough and go back to the dorm. Something like that
I hope this kinda fits, I dont know anymore. Just came back from the trip and yall, I wish I never left, this shit sucked... For the other Anons (and users), I'm at it to write the requests!!
Info / Masterlist (two different links, requests open)
⚠︎ Minor's DNI
Synopsis: What the ask says
Nevermore always had a talent for turning even its most questionable traditions into a spectacle.
And this Dance was no exception.
Colored lights fractured across the walls, music pulsed just a little too loud, and the air buzzed with the kind of chaotic energy that Wednesday Addams typically avoided on principle.
And yet she was there. Kinda, well, specifically, she was standing just inside the entrance, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment.
Beside her, you looked entirely too pleased.
“This is fun,” you said, scanning the room like you were about to claim it.
“It’s overstimulation,” Wednesday replied flatly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is.” You grinned. “You’ll survive.”
“I always do.”
You didn’t wait for her to argue further, you were already moving, weaving into the crowd with an ease Wednesday found both impressive and deeply unnecessary.
For a moment, she remained where she was, simply watching and cataloguing. How the students dance with reckless abandon. The lights flickering in nauseating colors. The faint scent of punch that was certainly spiked.
Then she heard a loud:
“Wednesday!”
A bright blur collided into her periphery.
Enid Sinclair, glitter dusted across her cheeks, because fucking of course, beamed like this was the best night of her life.
“You actually came!” Enid grabbed her arm. “I told everyone you might, but no one believed me, oh my god, where’s your girlfriend?”
“Circulating,” Wednesday said.
Enid followed her gaze, spotting you laughing with a group near the dance floor.
“Aww,” she said, nudging Wednesday. “Look at you, being all mysterious and broody while she socialises for both of you.”
“I am not broody.”
“You’re literally standing in a corner in all black watching people have fun.”
“I’m observing.”
“Uh-huh.”
Before Wednesday could respond, another voice cut in.
“Well, well. Addams at a party.”
Barclay approached, drink in hand, expression sharp with amusement.
“I assume there’s an ulterior motive,” Bianca continued. “Blackmail? Reconnaissance? Assassination?” “Don’t tempt me,” Wednesday said.
Bianca smirked, then glanced toward you. “Your girlfriend seems comfortable.”
“She’s adaptable,” Wednesday said. “Unlike you.” “I adapt when necessary.”
Bianca raised a brow. “And this is necessary?”
Wednesday didn’t answer immediately.
Her gaze drifted back to you again.
You had somehow gathered a small orbit of people, laughing, talking, moving like you belonged in the center of things. Every so often, your eyes flicked across the room, checking and looking for her.
Your eyes always finding her. Wednesday looked away first. “…apparently,” she said.
You found her again some time later. Or rather, you returned to her. Sliding back into her space like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You okay?” you asked, slightly breathless, energy still clinging to you. “I’ve been better,” Wednesday said. “That bad?”
You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
“But you are.” Wednesday’s eyes flicked to yours.
“I said I would attend,” she said. “I did not specify duration.” You smiled at that. “Give it a little longer?”
She considered it.
Then, reluctantly: “…ten minutes.”
“Deal.”
Ten minutes turned into thirty.
Then forty-five.
You drifted in and out of conversations, occasionally pulling her along, occasionally leaving her with familiar faces, Enid, who kept trying to drag her to dance; Bianca, who seemed entertained by her continued presence; even Eugene, who nodded at her like they shared some silent understanding, which they kinda did, she guessed.
Wednesday endured. But even her endurance had limits.
By the time you returned again, cheeks flushed, smile softer now, she was done.
“You’ve had enough,” you said quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
Wednesday looked at you. There was noise all around you. Music. Laughter. Movement.
“Yes,” she said.
You didn’t tease her and just nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The walk back to the dorms was quiet.
Cool night air replaced the heat. The noise faded behind you, leaving only the sound of your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves.
Wednesday walked beside you, posture as composed as ever, but something in her shoulders had eased. “You lasted longer than I thought,” you said.
“I am capable of resilience.” “Mm. You even talked to people.” “I was interrogated.” “That’s one way to put it.”
“You enjoy that environment,” Wednesday said. You glanced at her. “Yeah. I do.” “Why?
You shrugged lightly. “It’s easy. Being around people, talking, laughing, it’s not complicated.”
Wednesday was quiet for a moment.
Then, more quietly: “You make it look easy.”
You smiled a little. “You make everything look hard.” “That’s because most things are.” “Not everything.”
She didn’t argue.
Back in your dorm room, you shut the door behind you, kicking off your shoes. “God, that’s better.”
Wednesday stepped inside, gaze flicking over the room, before she made quick steps towards your bed. She sat down, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from the blanket.
“…you were tolerable,” she added.
You laughed, crossing the room. “High praise.”
You sat beside her, close but not crowding, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Wednesday said, almost like an observation: “You stayed aware of me the entire time.” You blinked. “Yeah?”
“Your line of sight shifted every few minutes.” “Oh.” You shrugged. “Habit.” “Why?”
You met her gaze. “Because you don’t like being there,” you said simply. “And I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Something in Wednesday’s expression shifted, something sweet and almost soft appearing.
