Tyler Galpin x Addams!Reader, sort of filler/in between bit? but I like it so. Mentions of Wednesday and Enid, and... Gates/Thornhill...
Not proofread or beta read, might be errors.
WC: 689.
But anyways, I hope u enjoy <3
“I am harboring a fugitive.” You mutter to yourself, watching Tyler explore your things in your dorm. It had been a couple of days since he showed up in your window sill like an injured mutt, guilty like one too. You had also recently started your efforts to create a chemical to gain mastership over his Hyde, though for the moment, you were taking a break as your eyes and hands started to strain with your work.
"Serial killer and mental asylum escapee, technically" He retorts, looking over pictures, mostly of your family, and trinkets scattered around various surfaces.
"Even lovelier." You say, arms crossing over your chest and leaning back in your desk chair.
"Have you… Told anyone about this?" Tyler asks, gesturing vaguely at the air, referring to your current situation; hiding a, well, Hyde inside your dorm in Nevermore, a wanted murderer that had hurt your friends and family. Though, even under her control, he never did much damage to you.
"No. Though I do not know how long I can manage to evade Wednesday's scrutiny and eventual deductions," You answer, eyebrows furrowing a tad at the obstacle your sister provided.
"And Enid has been fussing over her ever since your little standoff at Willow Hill. She's fine, by the way; bruising and a sprain or two but other than that unscathed." You add, earning a sigh of relief from him. Last thing he wanted to do was mortally wound her, considering the tentative trust he'd managed to build with you.
"But probably still pissed at me," He says, and a soft laugh escapes your lips, warmth spreading in his chest at the sound.
"Oh, absolutely. Wednesday asked me my opinion on flayed exes, I had no answer for her." You muse before finally getting up from your desk, stretching in an almost catlike manner before slowly moving over to him, peering over his shoulder as he idly looks through your stuff.
"That sounds… Delightful," Tyler mumbles, instinctively leaning back into your touch, reminiscent of the way he used to before everything happened. You only hum in response, arms coming up to wrap around his waist loosely. "Any progress?" He asks.
"I believe so. It should hopefully be ready in a few days, given that everything is correct." You reply, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the way his body relaxes and almost becomes putty in your hands. He never thought he'd get to experience this again, after everything he had done. During his time under Gates' "ownership" of him, your touch was the only solace he had; a soothing balm where her touch grated.
"How are the aches?" You question softly; the side-effects of him killing his master started not too long after the deed, the sudden aches were one of said side-effects.
"Nothing right now. Don't know when they'll start again, though." Tyler answers, lids falling shut as he takes in the soft affection, starved of it for ages.
"Do tell me when they reoccur, I will try to help to the best of my ability." You murmur, placing a kiss to his shoulder, tentative and gentle. It makes his heart ache, the all so familiar longing and want that's tied to you.
"Careful, you'll make it sound like you love me," He attempts to tease, but your silence in response makes him tense. Damn it, he fucked it up, didn't he? Prodding at a sore spot for both of you, even if it was lightheartedly. Tyler swallows down an instinctive and frankly embarrassing whine when he feels your touch leave him, carefully turning him around.
You watch him, fingers brushing a lock of hair from his face before lowering to brush your thumb over his cheekbone. "It's getting late… You should try to sleep, Amata." You say, and with that you return to your desk, engrossing yourself back into your work rather quickly.
Tyler is left confused, slightly comforted, if only for the fact that you didn't react negatively to his mistake. But he listens, crawling into your bed, almost cocooning himself in the soft blankets and such to try to sleep.
Tyler might (probably) be ooc, but maybe he's slowly healing? Borderline Domestic-ish fluff, as domestic as you can get being Hydes and moving a lot.
WC: 825. A bit on the longer side, at least compared to what I've published. Not proofread or beta read, so... Potential errors.
As always, I hope u enjoy!
A couple of days have passed since you two arrived at the vaguely shitty motel, and it was going fine. Not great, but not horrible. For the most part, you had been lazing around and resting since sleeping in his dad’s truck wasn’t the most comfortable.
And Tyler had been doing much of the same, though he had been out more often than you to check out the area around the motel, and to stock up on supplies. Most people there minded their business, thankfully, so it wasn’t too difficult.
At the sound of the motel door opening, you snap out of your daze and sit up on the bed, relaxing when you see it’s only Tyler, hands full of bags. “Sorry… Did I wake you?” He apologizes, closing the door behind him and settling the grocery store bags on the bed.
“Nah. People in the room next to us did” You shake your head, already starting to rifle through the plastic to see what he got.
“Ugh, the couple again?” Tyler grimaces, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching your movements idly.
“Yeah. I think they’re affair partners or something, heard one of them say ‘your wife’.” You shrug, a small smile quirking your lips when you see he got your favorite candy. "Either that, or they're having a really questionable honeymoon. But I prefer the scandalous one." You add.
“I like them even less now,” He mumbles, earning a soft huff of laughter from you. He's found that he quite likes the sound, and it always feels strange to recognize the fact.
"Did you see anything?" You ask, already starting to dig in to the candy.
"Uh, not much, newspaper column about the last place," Tyler answers, shaking his head. "Police are bewildered and torn between foul play and major freak accident involving wildlife."
"… The bears are crazy recently," You mutter, slightly muffled by your chewing.
"Tell me about it," He chuckles gently, laying back against the bed, warmed by the early summer sun filtering through the blinds and you.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, glancing over at you. It was a common question between you, making sure the other was relatively stable.
"Fine. You?" You raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze.
"Fine." He mimics, opening his mouth for you to plop a piece in, which you do with a soft eye roll.
You two are quiet for a while, basking in the comfortable silence and candy, each other's presence calming your Hydes, subduing them enough that you could ignore your predicament. Despite the circumstances, it felt almost domestic, the thought makes his heart ache for some reason.
You were sat in your sleep shirt and shorts, hair still messy from tossing and turning in your previous attempt to sleep through the noise from the other room. And he was still wearing the clothes he went outside in, jeans and a tank-top with flannel, making you scrunch your nose slightly at the reminder.
"No outside clothes on the bed, Ty," You grumble, gently and only a bit annoyed, and he remembered your particularity on 'outside clothes', disliking the smell or something similar.
"Sorry, sorry," Tyler sighs, getting up to shed them, knowing you didn't really care if he changed while you were in here. You both had seen worse things, and after so long on the road together, it wasn't much of a problem anymore. He grabbed new pair of sweats from the—at this point, shared—duffel bag of clothes, as well as a faded graphic tee that he recognized as yours.
"… Nice ass." You quietly comment, and when he pauses mid-pulling-the-sweatpants-on to look at you, you're already looking at the old TV again, flipping through channels.
"Uh, thanks?" He says after a moment, not put off by it, just a bit confused. You didn't exactly give compliments, aside from occasionally telling him he did a good job on something. The only response he got was a soft hum of acknowledgement, attention preoccupied with some renovation show as you enjoy your treat.
Tyler lets out a gentle huff of amusement, finally finishing putting his clothes on and crawling back onto the bed. It was a motel bed so it wasn't the greatest, but it was miles better than the truck's seats and truck-bed. He comes up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and carefully looping his arms around your waist, gaze flicking between your side profile and the TV.
The only reaction you give to his touch and closeness is a brief tensing, before you relax and lazily offer him another piece of candy, to which he accepts.
The rest of the day goes by quite the same; changing channels when it got boring, trading snacks, napping some more, making quiet comments on shows or your motel neighbors. All while cuddled close together, relatively content and basking in whatever your bond was, or whatever it meant.
Been having Finn Bennett brainworms since last month, might make stuff for his chars... I wanna gnaw on him lowkey.
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!”
A little part 2, I'm incredibly grateful to the people who liked it, and my other little works.
679 words, there's like a single use of—something like this—but no AI, just trying out grammar and I felt like it flowed better. Also, maybe/probably OOC, but... I like my men like this, so
Anyway, hope u enjoy! <3
That night. That night might’ve been the most peaceful of sleep he’s gotten since this whole nightmare started. You had scrounged up whatever oversized clothes that would hopefully fit him while he showered, eventually returning less dirty and grimy, smelling like you and your shower products. A fact that something deep inside of him loved.
And you, after a moment of contemplation, let him sleep in your bed while you sat against your headboard, already beginning your research into his affliction.
Tyler had tried to stay awake, both to keep you company of sorts and to attempt to soak this moment in, just in case it'd leave. But between the soft sounds of your breathing and note taking, along with the warmth of your bed and the way your scent envelops him, he conks out sooner than he would've liked.
When he wakes, it's already midday and he hears your door open and shut as you return. You pause briefly when you see him awake, sitting up on your bed with his hair all mussed and eyes vaguely resembling an innocent animal in headlights, but you and him both know he's quite the opposite.
"You were sleeping… Peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you. I had to attend my classes, and gather more material." You explain after a moment, continuing to your desk and emptying your bag of its contents onto the dark wood.
"Thank you," Tyler mutters, his sentence was for a multitude of reasons in actuality, but this would work too. "What'd you manage to get?" He asks, noticing you imperceptibly hesitate.
"I stole some books from the recently deceased," You answer, starting to read through one of said books.
"Gates, to be specific. She had an old study on Hydes, and her notes." You add, eyebrows furrowing in distaste at the feeling of her name on your tongue. At the sound of your sheets shifting, you glance over your shoulder, watching him slowly get up and move closer. Tyler pauses briefly about a foot from you, as if waiting for permission, or for you to react badly, either one.
You do neither, gaze returning to the task, letting him inch a bit closer and peek over your shoulder at the book. "Well… She was successful in making one, at least," He mutters, disliking it just as much as you.
"So far, all I've found in my endeavors is that without a master, or a pack, you'll die," You say, flipping through the notebook, eyes scanning the ink and occasional diagrams.
"Oh, great." Tyler replies, focus shifting from the book to the side of your face.
"But, I have seen ramblings of possibilities for a Hyde to… Attain a new master," You continue, lingering on a page in Gates' notebook detailing the chemical concoction she used on him, along with notations on his 'unlocking'. Once you were done with this, you were definitely burning it. Maybe you'll create your own Hyde compendium, although much less ethically concerning. Probably.
"A new master." He repeats, watching you shut the book and toss it onto your desk.
"Yes," You confirm, turning to face him, meeting his gaze. Both of you searching the other, trying to decipher each other's feelings about it without explicitly saying it.
"You?" Tyler asks, hopes, wants. The thought of anyone else controlling him like that—not that you would, he knows that—makes his skin crawl.
"If that's what you would allow," You answer, head tilting slightly as you examine his face.
'Allow'? The fact that he'd probably let you do anything to him, so long as he remained by your side, scares him a bit. But anything regarding you and whatever you two have does, and he doesn't think he'd have it any other way.
"Yeah, that… I would want it to be you." He swallows thickly, fingers twitching with the urge to hold you, or kiss you, something.
"Then I'll figure out how to make it happen." You nod, hand carefully coming up to cup his cheek, and he practically melts into the touch.
A thin trickle of blood stained her right temple, the warm, thick liquid sliding down her skin to her jaw.
Y/N was breathing shallowly, forcing herself to keep walking despite the throbbing pain hammering in her head with every step. How had things come to this? She squeezed her eyelids shut, desperately trying to stay focused and not lose consciousness, then entered Uriah’s Heap.
“My God, dear, are you alright?” the shopkeeper asked with evident concern, following with her gaze the bloodstains that dirtied the Nevermore Academy uniform.
The corners of her eyes filled with tears at the realization that she had her friend’s blood on her, as well as her own. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the emotions rising in her throat like a suffocating knot.
Y/N ignored the question and let her gaze fall on the basket, desperately searching for a One Wish Willow. She clung to the edge of the counter, slowly inhaling through her nose.
No. No, no, no...
Panic tightened her chest.
I need it, she thought.
She wrinkled her nose. The nauseating smell of copper flooded her nostrils, persistent and suffocating. She clenched her jaw in an attempt to stay on her feet, while another wave of dizziness washed over her from head to toe.
“I need another one Wish Willow.” The request came out weak, her voice muffled and hoarse. Her fingers clenched around the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white.
The shopkeeper blinked, still visibly shaken by her appearance.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital.”
Y/N shook her head slightly. The movement caused a pain so intense it made her knees wobble. “The box,” she repeated, more stubborn than convincing. “Please...”
It had all started so well
A week earlier
Y/N arrived at Nevermore Academy ten minutes late. The weight of the call still lingered in her head like a dull pain, and the desire for that strange cylindrical object had left her with a strange unease, accompanied by a silent expectation.
She knew it was stupid.
After all, it was just a collector’s item.
She deviated her destination toward Ophelia Hall, heading to the room Wednesday shared with Enid. Her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing her and Y/N found herself smiling slightly.
I just hope she doesn’t ask about the call, she thought.
But a part of her knew that probably wouldn’t happen. Wednesday wasn’t the type to take interest in emotional matters. Nothing involving emotions could really capture her attention.
She smiled ironically at that thought and knocked before entering.
With a quick glance she noticed Enid wasn’t there. Instead she saw Wednesday standing, her back turned, one hand resting on the back of the chair at the desk.
“What are you doing here?” Addams asked in her usual monotone voice.
Y/N watched her for a few seconds. She swallowed loudly and nervously scratched her chin. Wednesday began to turn and Y/N frowned slightly. For a moment it seemed like she was about to comment on her lateness with one of her venomous remarks, but something changed. Wednesday’s body relaxed all at once, and the tension that normally stiffened her shoulders seemed to melt like snow in the sun.
“Wednesday?” she said with a hint of concern.
Addams smiled.
Y/N remained still.
It wasn’t the smile itself that surprised her, but the way it appeared on her face. It was unusual. Foreign. Almost unnatural. A dimple appeared on her right cheek and for a moment Y/N found herself staring at it more than she should have. She realized she found it cute when she smiled. Cute always, actually. She was just used to her impassive expression. One corner of her mouth remained slightly more rigid than the other, creating a crooked, asymmetrical smile that somehow made it even stranger.
“Hello, Y/N.” Her voice came out soft.
Too soft.
Y/N felt a chill run down her spine.
Her black eyes were staring at her, deep as always. She found them… intense. Too intense, as if they were truly looking at her. A part of her suddenly felt at the center of something.
And she liked it.
Wednesday’s jaw tightened slightly and her fingers curled into a fist for a moment, then relaxed.
“Stop it,” Wednesday whispered angrily to herself. Her posture stiffened and the smile wavered for a fraction of a second before returning to its place, impeccable and unsettling.
“Are you okay?” Y/N asked, laughing slightly at the strange scene but unable to hide her skepticism.
A subtle hint of fear tightened her stomach.
Things became strange when she invited her out
That afternoon the Weathervane Café was semi-empty. Some chatter mixed with the sound of coffee machines, the clinking of cups, vibrated in Y/N’s bones like an annoying constant background noise. She twisted her hands in embarrassment, her posture rigid, fully aware of Wednesday’s proximity.
Wednesday Addams was sitting in the same side of the booth, her thigh lightly pressing against hers in a sign of silent presence. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N looked at her and caught her staring at her.
Anxiety tightened her stomach.
Something strange swirled in Wednesday’s black eyes, but at that moment Y/N didn’t notice it. In fact, she didn’t want to notice it. The black seemed to swallow the pupil, giving her chills.
Wednesday tilted her head and smiled faintly, her bangs brushing her forehead during the movement of her neck. “I missed you this summer,” her voice sounded serious but tinged with something strange. Mechanical.
Y/N felt her mouth go dry and her heart flipped, happy to hear those words. But an annoying part of her brain suggested that Wednesday would never say something like that. After all, she had had the chance to in the car, but had chosen to ignore her, even hanging up on her.
Wednesday was never this… exposed.
That thought flashed through her mind and Y/N clenched her fists against her shirt, frowning as she tried to find the right words. She slightly parted her lips, about to ask what was happening, but she was interrupted by Wednesday’s sudden contact.
Y/N stiffened, surprised by the sudden kiss.
Her facial features slowly relaxed and her mouth trembled with the restrained feeling of having always wanted that moment.
Addams’ lips were cold and firm against hers, pushing strongly, as if they wanted to merge. Y/N exhaled shakily and clung to Wednesday, kissing her back with more intensity. A hand rose and placed trembling fingers on Wednesday’s cheek, completely surrendering to the sensation. The kiss tasted like coffee and something so Wednesday she couldn’t identify. Her tongue slipped between her lips, pressing the tip against Addams’ lower lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss.
pain in her lower lip made her pull away slightly, and she hissed between her teeth at the sudden pain.
A look of confusion appeared in Wednesday’s eyes, then her gaze flickered, softening for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Wednesday said, her incisors slightly stained with Y/N’s blood.
Y/N shook her head and licked the blood from her lower lip, trying to ease the pain. Wednesday leaned in again and reached a hand toward her face.
Her thumb pressed against her lip, exposing her gums.
Y/N remained still, almost submissive.
The tip of her finger brushed the surface of her wet canine, tracing its edge. Wednesday bent her finger downward, pulling the corner of her mouth to expose the pink inside. “I like you... already... I like you... already,” she muttered in a strange way.
Y/N widened her eyes and looked in horror at the goth girl’s finger lingering in her mouth, as if weighing what to do. Addams pressed her lips flat and chose to let go, sitting back against the booth. She remained still, staring straight ahead, as if the world had suddenly lost all interest.
Y/N breathed heavily, with difficulty. Panic tightened her stomach as she kept staring at the right side of Wednesday’s face: high cheekbone, tense jaw, sharply defined, perfectly still.
Wednesday’s hands rested on the surface of the table.
Y/N swallowed.
Say Something. Anything. She forced herself.
“Did you… want to tell me about the vision you had about Enid?” Y/N suggested, her throat dry and her heart still racing from what had just happened.
She needed to distract herself immediately.
Something strange crossed Wednesday’s features and disappeared in a blink, as if it had been suppressed before it could even form. Y/N frowned slightly.
Wednesday was behaving in a… particular way.
Addams stiffened her posture and slowly tilted her head. Her eyes darted over Y/N’s face, lingering for a moment on her lips. The blood still stained her incisors and, for some reason, that sight made Y/N uneasy.
A pale hand lifted. Wednesday brushed her bangs away from her face and her black nails grazed her forehead during the movement.
“What vision?” she asked.
...And it got worse in the following days
Wednesday Addams depended completely on her.
At first it had been gradual. She would meet her in the library, in the cafeteria, in the corridors between lessons. Y/N hadn’t thought much of it. Nevermore was full of students and, despite everything, Wednesday was her… girlfriend?
Then she started appearing everywhere.
She would turn a corner and find her there. She would look up from a book and Wednesday was already watching her from across the room. She enrolled in classes she had never shown any interest in attending and, inevitably, Addams would appear among the desks with the same absorbed expression.
The situation had stopped feeling like a coincidence long ago.
It got even worse during fencing practice. Y/N was talking to Bianca when she felt a familiar sensation on the back of her neck. She looked up and found Wednesday a few meters away. Motionless. Silent.
Staring at her.
She alternated her gaze between Bianca and Wednesday, missing half the conversation. Every time she checked, Addams was still there.
Watching her.
The next day Bianca ended up in the infirmary under rather suspicious circumstances.
No one managed to link the incident to Wednesday.
Y/N, however, had her doubts..
Wednesday was always there. Present in a suffocating way.
She would take her hand without warning. She would grab her arm. She constantly sought contact as if simple proximity was not enough. Addams clung to her with a silent desperation that hurt to see, as if she couldn’t breathe without her. She would drag her into secluded places simply expecting her to follow. She would sit beside her during meals, during classes, during free time. And when she didn’t speak, which happened often, she would simply watch her with absolute attention. Was this what she wanted? No, she found herself thinking. At least in part. She simply wanted Wednesday to go back to how she had always been: cold, detached, sarcastic to the point of apathy.
The other students had inevitably started to notice.
Conversations stopped when Wednesday passed. Some threw nervous glances in their direction. Others avoided approaching altogether.
Even Enid seemed worried.
More than once Y/N had caught the werewolf watching her roommate with furrowed brows, as if trying to understand where the Wednesday she knew had gone.
“I love you.” Wednesday said it with her chin slightly raised and her eyes fixed on hers. She didn’t blink. She didn’t look away. She just stayed there, vulnerable in a way Y/N had never seen her before.
Y/N felt a knot tighten in her throat every time.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Enid look away. The werewolf tried to act indifferent, but her concern was impossible to hide. In her blue eyes it was clear how disturbed she was. Her ears lowered slightly, her eyebrows tensed every time Wednesday started behaving like that. The blonde nervously bit a painted nail.
But Wednesday didn’t seem to notice; she was too busy staring at her.
A part of her should have been happy. For months she had wanted to hear those words, imagining that moment in the smallest fragments of her days. And yet, when they came from Wednesday’s lips, something inside her tightened.
They didn’t sound right. Not completely.
She knew Wednesday Addams: her pride, her reserve, her disdain for any display of affection. She was the kind of person who would rather swallow glass than expose herself like that.
“I love you too,” Y/N found herself saying.
The words came out fuller than expected, carrying something she couldn’t hold back. And for a moment she ignored that subtle feeling, that doubt she couldn’t name.
At least a little longer.
Wednesday’s immediate, beautiful smile made all her hesitation collapse before it could take shape.
