OH, Black Cats

163. Wednesday Addams | Finally Hers II

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|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Genre|: Fluff 💞

|Warnings|: Stalking, mentions of gore, Wednesday being mean, mouth-on-mouth kissing, ooc Wednesday Addams.

|Summary|: You're caught in the act (in a library no less), now what?

|Word count|: 1.2k words

***

Shit.

How could this happen?

The following two weeks since your last encounter with Wednesday Addams had been peaceful--or suspiciously uneventful--you thought to yourself. You had feared for your life, half-expecting for the raven-haired girl to confront you after the last time she caught you approaching her with a creepy stare in your eyes.

But nope, the weeks passed, and you continued with your unusual schedule, mostly consisting of you stalking the girl of your nightmares from afar. At least, that was the case until today--you've settled yourself in one of the hexagonal tables in the school's library with stacks of books around the table to hide your figure--when Wednesday took a seat across the table. Your table.

Wednesday always seats at the same table--the one in the dark corner of the room, every week at the same hour; a piece of information you've successfully gathered after extensive "research" on the girl. And you use this information to admire her every week at this very hour from a safe distance, only to find her seating at your table directly across from you today.

You had observed her movement when she entered the room--with a book in hand, her stride full of confidence, no trace of hesitation to be found.

...and then she walked straight in your direction, and you swear to god you've never ducked your head so fast in your entire life.

When you dared to peer through the gaps of your heavily stacked books, the girl in front of you already had her nose stuck in her book, her lips pursed in concentration. With Wednesday sitting closer than ever to you--suddenly blessed with the breathtaking sight of her figure--you can't help but notice her features; the ones you never get to see because you've always been watching her from afar.

Strays of light hit her face, sharpening her features in all the right places. Her eyes dart over the pages, and you can't help but admire the brown in them. Her lashes are full, eyebags adorning her face giving her a deliciously daunting look. Her lips are a dark color--a beguiling burgundy. She has freckles softly scattered across her nose and cheeks, and soft strains of her hair fall to the sides--framing her face perfectly.

Your eyes trailed down to her sharp jaws, then to her slender arms, and to the fingers that are gripping the edges of her book firmly. Your heart skips a few beats at the sight--everything about her is so mesmerizing. And as you take a deep slow breath, you could smell a hint of sweet alyssum--the flower vaguely resembling the pattern on her coat.

As your line of sight trailed back up to her face and her eyes, you yelped back in your seat--her gaze piercing holes right into your own--your books falling off the table at the impact of your motion.