Wednesday (One Shots and Imagines)

Book [Wednesday x Male Reader]

Wednesday loved literature, from Shakespeare to Donne to Nabokov- whether it was poetry or a novel. She loved literature. For the longest time, she thought that there was nothing better than reading and by that logic writing. That was until she met Y/N- until he moved in on her and swiftly swept her off her feet.

Ever since the day she laid her cold, dead eyes in him, she found she could hardly concentrate on anything other than his face or his voice. To make matters worse, she spent a lot of time with him. She sat next to him in creature anatomy class and he was an avid duellist so it was only natural that they would often match up in fencing lessons (to varied results).

No matter what, it seemed Wednesday would be near him. She hated it. In the last few weeks she hadn't even written more than 2 chapters to her book, terribly little by her standards- and even then the quality of her work could be questioned. She tried reading books, fiction or not and she would read the same two pages over, and over, and over but the words never seemed to settle in her brilliant mind. Even when she read the books she loved- Pale Fire, Scream all Night, The House of the Spirits- she had tried to read them all but there was no real passion to do so. A passion that had disappeared because of Y/N.

She sat, her arms folded on her desk, her head rested on her arms. The door was in her line of sight. She waited. Earlier that Wednesday, she had slipped a small black note card into his fencing kit bag. An invitation. One that she almost hoped he never found. The thought of being alone in a room with him made her small heart jump against her ribcage- like a caged animal trying to break free before it is put down. She had left the door unlocked in the hopes that if he had found her written invitation- and if he bothered to give it any thought, she wouldn't have to bring herself to let him in. It had been three hours since she last saw him, and hope was become a dwindling necessity.

Her finger tapped on the hard, cold wood of her desk to the rhythm of Hotel California- something of a guilty pleasure of hers ever since she overheard Y/N listening to it a week or so ago. She'd even tried learning how to play it on her grand cello but once again, she was distracted by a greater looming desire. The tapping came to an abrupt stop. She sat up straight and stood from her writing seat, swapping one seated position for another as she planted down on her bed- arms around her knees, knees tight to her chest. He wasn't going to show up.

She felt something warm and wet run down her cheeks. She pressed the end of her middle finger into the trail of moisture it left behind and inspected it. Tears. Salty and painful. All because of Y/N. Her usually controlled and calm breathing was broken up by subtle sobs and whimpers.

Her forehead dropped to her knees as she closed her eyes. She could hear his voice in her head- haunting her like some sort of spirit- "Wednesday." She heard as she closed her eyes tighter. "Wednesday!" The voice got louder and the stream of tears grew more abundant. "Hey, Addams-"she shook her head, clasping her hands tight over her ears in the desperate hope that she could escape the voice. It worked. She furrowed her brows. It actually worked, that couldn't be right. A gentle hand settled on her shoulder. She flinched and backed into the corner of her bed as the hand pulled away, her eyes too blurry from the salty tears to see anything but an outline of whoever was there.

The backs of her hands shot up to her tender, reddened eyes to rub away the excess of tears. She blinked a few times as her eyes refocussed. Her heart panged, her cheeks grew red and her lips pursed together. It was Y/N. She cursed herself for not locking the door- she didn't want him to see her in this pathetic state.

"Are you alright?" Y/N asked, his voice soft and unsure. Wednesday hated that he seemed to care, her jaw clenching tight as her fists balled up the fabric of her pants- why should he care, she was nothing more than a stranger to him. She didn't answer. He smiled sadly as he slowly, carefully sat on her bed.

She seemed to cower a little. She was unsure of herself, she had no idea why one person had made her feel so worthless and afraid. She was clueless as to why it was Y/N that had made her cry so hard. Perhaps she was just becoming a pathetic, sappy, creepy person. At least the tears had seemed to have stopped. She sniffled.

Her mind still racing, all she could think about was his embrace. She needed his embrace. She wanted to take what she needed. In the blink of a teary eye, she was latched onto him. Her arms wrapped tight around him as she tried to hide her shaky breathing by burrowing her head into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry..." She whispered, her wavering voice further muffled.

Seemingly every muscle in Y/N's body seized up at her sudden embrace. He was unsure whether it was safe to hold her back like he wanted to. He didn't know if that's what she wanted or if it was what she needed- but hearing her voice down his ear, hearing how desperate she sounded, he wrapped an arm around her back while his free hand settled on the small of her back, tapping every so often. He drew a sharp breath as he made contact with some of her cold skin- unintentionally inhaling her scent. She smelt distinctly like patchouli and lavander, both scents heavy and thick, filling his lungs. It was addicting.

A few minutes passed where neither of them moved- Wednesday was too scared that she had pushed their boundaries and Y/N was fearful of what Wednesday might do to him if he pulled away too soon. But, Y/N sucked up his fears and broke the silence. "So are we just going to sit here or are you going to tell me what is wrong- not that I'm not enjoying this." He spoke, his voice still soft.

She didn't move or say anything back, instead she buried her head deeping into her comfortable hidey-hole. He gave a gentle sigh before looking to his left and at her bedside table, noticing a thick white book. "Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov." He read aloud before flicking a few pages in until he found where her bookmark lay. He cleared his throat before he began reading. Wednesday listened, hanging onto his every spoken word. She turned her head so that she sat in his side- so she might read along with him.

He read and read and read until the sun was replaced by the moon. He furrowed his brows as he turned his head. It was an odd book. Wednesday noticed this and with heavy eyes looked up to him. "It's a poem." She explained. "999 lines long." She added before a small yawn escaped her neat lips. She tried to stay awake- she really did, she wanted to hear Y/N read to her for the rest of eternity but sleep caught up with her.

Y/N only noticed that she had fallen asleep by the time he reached the end of the long chapter. A little smile curled on his lips as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face before attempting to escape her bed- but something stopped her. He looked down to see Wednesday's hand had been gripped tight on his t-shirt and refused to let him leave. Instead, he untied the laces of his shoes and quietly kicked them off. He tugged back the covers from beneath where they sat, pulling the warm fabric over the both of them. He wrapped an arm around her slight waist and manoeuvred her body so that she was lay down properly beneath the covers. He did the same, facing her as he lay.

Her eyes were still puffy and red from earlier but he still thought she was beautiful. A hand moved to caress her cheek to which a small, smile became clear on Wednesday's lips. Y/N couldn't help but smile too before he moved his hand and closed his eyes.

By the time the sun had reappeared over the horizon, Y/N was almost pleased to discover Wednesday looking up at him with adoring eyes. Her arms were wrapped around him and their warm legs were entangled in a sleepy mess.

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Man I really slacked off yesterday huh? Thank you so much for 20,000 reads! You people are so cool! 🥹 enjoy:))