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mikavlcs · 1 year

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Ricochet

Pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x fem!telekinetic!reader, platonic!Bianca Barclay x reader

Summary: An outburst ruins Wednesday’s relationship with you. The journey to reconciliation is long and hard, but she eventually finds her way there

Warnings: same as last time, ooc!wednesday

Word count: 6.2k

Notes: here is the semi-highly requested wednesday pov of my first story! i recommend reading the first part because i skim over some events to avoid repetition. hopefully you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist | Reader’s Pov

Wednesday was furious. No, she was well beyond fury at this point.

There wasn’t a word in any man-made language that could describe how fucking angry she was.

She had been throwing herself into her investigation for months now to try and find her stalker. He disappeared after the initial text at the end of her first semester, reappeared at the beginning of the second semester to taunt her for a few days, and now he had gone silent again.

Months of searching for clues and chasing leads only for them to go cold. Months of intellectual and emotional turmoil for absolutely no results. It was taxing.

Tonight was her last chance. The only hint she had left about her stalker’s identity. And it was a dead end. She had hit another brick wall while her stalker undoubtedly laughed from the shadows.

Her frustration couldn’t be put into words. It could only be felt as she stomped through the halls to her dorm. She could tell Thing felt it too by the way he lay still in her bag as if any movement would set her off. For all she knew, it would.

Her dorm came into view along with your withdrawn form. Instinctively, her eyes were drawn to your face, and she could tell by the drooping of your eyes and furrow of your brows that something had happened. Any other day she would be more than willing to listen to you and offer what little comfort she knew how to give, but right now she wanted to do anything but.

Electing to ignore you, she entered her dorm and threw her bag to the floor, barely registering Thing scampering off to her closet. The soft click of her door closing told her that you had followed her inside. Her fists clenched.

She wanted—no, needed you to leave. The white-hot anger in her chest was building steadily and she felt like a ticking time bomb. Any little thing would be enough to make her explode, and she wasn’t sure what she would do in the aftermath.

She prayed you would just leave her to suffer through her failure alone but you were far too kind for that. Instead, you spoke up.

“Do, um… do you need anything?”

During the many times Wednesday looked back at this moment, she could never pinpoint what exactly it was about the question that upset her. All she knew is that it was enough to detonate her.

The outburst itself was hazy to her, even while it was happening. She vaguely remembered turning around and yelling, but mostly she recalled the rush of relief she felt after expelling so much anger, how much lighter she felt.

But the moments afterward, she could still see clear as day.

The shock on your face, and the unmitigated hurt that crept in after. The tears in your eyes. The way her own relief mutated to horror when she realized what she had done.

She had turned her own world upside down in mere moments and she couldn’t collect herself enough to right it before you rushed out the door.

The only thing she could do was call out your name before the door slammed shut.

Wednesday was frozen. Somewhere, she could hear Thing feverish tapping something to her, but she paid him no mind. She couldn’t, not with the way her thoughts were racing. A million different things ran through her mind, but one thought kept rising to the surface.

She had hurt you.

She hadn’t meant to, but intentions meant nothing in the aftermath of a tragedy. And now she had to face the consequences.

Sleep eluded her completely that night.

She laid in bed for what felt like an eternity, replaying your conversation and yet it seemed as if she blinked and suddenly sunlight was shining through the window. She shook herself out of her reverie and got ready for class.

Thing was noticeably absent. He was most likely upset with her for what happened. She couldn’t blame him, not when she felt the same.

Throughout her first class, she couldn’t help but watch you. You were notably more quiet and almost standoffish, avoiding people more than usual. She hadn’t seen you smile once the whole day. It pained her to think that her words had wounded you so deeply.

She kept her eyes on you all day, monitoring you discreetly. Or so she thought. During your last class, you turned and glared at her with such rage, such vitriol that she had to force her eyes away.

She was used to being the target of people’s resentment. It usually overjoyed her to see how negatively she was able to affect people with her mere presence, but it was different this time. This time, it was you, and seeing you look at her with so much anger made something bubble up in her chest.

Guilt.

Guilt so devastating, so overpowering that she couldn’t at least try to act on it.

An hour was all she allowed herself before she went to your dorm.

The walk was familiar, one she could do in her sleep, but this time she was aware of every step she took. Every inch closer to you made her tenser. Her mind was turbulent, in complete disarray. She was anxious, she realized. She had no clue what she was going to say.

Thing had yet to make an appearance so she couldn’t fall back on his guidance or companionship. She was left to deal with this alone.

For the first time in her life, she had no idea what was going to happen next. And as much as she tried to deny it, that scared her.

And it turned out that she was right to be scared because you refused to listen to her. You didn’t even open the door. She couldn’t be upset with you, she knew this was her fault. But she had to try.

“Listen,” she started again, “it is truly urgent. I…”

There was so much she wanted to say but nothing came out. An apology was sitting on her tongue, waiting to be said, and yet the idea of really facing what she did and opening up to you held her back.

“Thing has something important to tell you.”

The words tasted bitter in her mouth. Shame bloomed in her stomach.

Coward.

A hard scoff sounded from the other side of the door.

“Yeah? Well, tell Thing that if he ever needs to talk about something then my door is always open to him.”

The finality in your tone told her what she already knew: she had failed.

The conversation had reached its definitive end, but she didn’t move. Her feet were planted in the hall outside your door, at odds with herself about what to do next. Part of her wanted to speak up, to tell you the truth. And yet another part of her, the one she let lead her through most of her life, wanted to just leave and avoid confronting her feelings completely.

She stood outside your door for minutes on end, a war raging between her emotions and her pride. But in the end, her pride stood victorious, and she walked away, heart heavier than it’d ever been before.

The following weeks were long.

She didn’t bother trying to talk to you again after her disastrous visit, knowing it would end the same way. You made it clear that you didn’t want to talk to her, so she wouldn’t force you to do so.

Despite that, she couldn’t bring herself to fully withdraw from you. After months of your constant presence, your sudden absence from her life was surprisingly difficult for her to deal with.

It felt as if everywhere she looked, there was an empty spot where you would usually inhabit. On her bed during her writing hour, the seat next to her in class, the space beside her at her lunch table—all places you should be. But you weren’t anymore.

There was an emptiness in her chest that she didn’t think even the joys of torturing Pugsley could fill.

So she resolved to keep watch over you from afar. She told herself that it was to make sure that no one hurt you or that you didn’t do anything stupid. But she knew better, and so did Thing.

He wasn’t on board with the idea at first, still mad about what Wednesday had said, but after she brought up the group of werewolves that bullied you, he hesitantly joined her. But they both knew this wasn’t about some stupid mutts.

Still though, he preferred to spend more of his free time with Enid, and she allowed it for the time being.

Enid herself had also been acting a bit differently. She was still bright, bubbly, and all-too friendly with Wednesday, but it was clear she knew something happened. The werewolf would cautiously avoid talking about you to Wednesday, quickly changing the topic whenever your name came up in conversation during lunch or class.

Sometimes, she’d catch herself staring for just a little too long and when she turned her attention back to what she was doing, she’d see Enid giving her a certain look. It wasn’t exactly pity, but it was close enough to make her vehemently uncomfortable. She tried to glare, cold and deadly, but her roommate had long since stopped being afraid of her, so she just let it be.

After school, she would look for you. Only to make sure you were safe, of course. If she wasn’t able to go for whatever reason then she sent Thing to keep an eye on you.

You spent a lot of time in the library for the first week, but then your schedule abruptly became more erratic.

She saw you head into the woods a few times after your last period and though her curiosity was peaked, she never had the heart to follow you. Some things deserved to remain private.

Days were long and arduous, but weeks passed, nonetheless.

Exactly one month after you stormed out of Wednesday’s dorm, Wednesday saw you use your powers for the first time. And it happened at lunch of all times.

She was sitting at her usual table, idly listening to Enid and her friends gossiping about something she didn’t care about. Her textbook lay open in front of her, completely neglected. She brought it along to try and distract herself from thinking about you.

Needless to say, it wasn’t working very well.

Her eyes were drawn to your solitary figure across the quad but she resisted. She had to study and she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle seeing you now. Especially given what day it was.

It had officially been a month since Wednesday’s outburst, an entire month without you.

She wished she could say it got easier with time, that the ache lessened with each day but that would be a lie. In fact, it was the exact opposite of Wednesday’s reality. Each day was more torturous than the last, the hole in my chest growing wider every day you were gone.

But she couldn’t think about that—about you now. She had studying to do. She was only two weeks ahead in her classes when she was usually at least a month ahead and that bothered her. So she forced her eyes down to the passages of text and made herself focus on her studies. And she succeeded.

Nearly.

A familiar, obnoxious voice cut through the noise, instinctively making her tense. She looked over and her fingers twitched.

Adrian. The pathetic werewolf that loved to make your life at Nevermore hell.

She couldn’t make out what he was saying but he was looming over you, his equally inept friends sneering behind him.

Her fists clenched. But they relaxed when her gaze settled on you. Because, unlike every other time she had witnessed this, you weren’t scared or resigned. No, you looked more annoyed than anything, either staring up at him blankly or ignoring him entirely in favor of your book. The sight made her brows raise slightly.

No matter how hard he tried to taunt you, you gave him no leverage—just a dead-eyed stare. Instead of just giving up, he riled up even further, his voice raising to a yell that echoed across the quad. The students began to quiet as they took notice of Adrian’s tantrum and Wednesday’s patience was quickly running thin.

She shared a look with a worried Enid, who looked ready to pop her claws out at any moment. Thing had also crawled out of her bag up onto the table, the three of them silently agreeing to step in if things went too far.

He reached for the knife on your lunch tray, and she had enough. She didn’t care if you hated her for interfering, she was going to kill him.

She went to push herself up when suddenly, Adrian froze. There was seemingly no reason for it, he simply stopped.

Puzzled, Wednesday observed the scene before her, trying to put the pieces together. They fell in place only moments later. Her mind flashed back to a few months before, when you finally mustered the courage to tell her about the powers you inherited from your parents.

Telekinesis.

You were doing that to him.

She watched as you leisurely read your book, ignoring Adrian’s friend’s pleas to let him go. The whole quad watched on as you finally stood and approached Adrian, like a predator stalking up to its prey. You threatened him like she did so many times before and she was positively mesmerized by the sight.

The boys ran off the moment you let Adrian go in a depressing flurry of cowardly panic. Wednesday felt her lips twitch.

There was only silence in the aftermath. All eyes were on you and Wednesday wondered if everyone was as entranced as she was.

You didn’t seem to care either way. You said nothing, only used your powers to put the knife back on your tray and turned back to your book. Not a care in the world for the dozens of stunned onlookers you left in your wake.

Hushed whispers began to engulf the quad as minutes passed, but Wednesday paid them no mind.

In front of her, Enid giggled and, much to her embarrassment, Wednesday nearly jumped at the sound. She had forgotten there were other people with her.

“That was amazing,” Enid gushed. A chorus of different positive answers rose from around the table and Wednesday couldn’t help but agree with them.

It was amazing. You were amazing.

Sure, she knew about your abilities, but she had never actually seen you use them—no one had until today. But now that she had, she was obsessed. That must have been why you spent so much time in the forest, she realized. To practice using your telekinesis in private. Suddenly, she wished she had followed you.

For the rest of lunch, she was left to marvel at what she had seen, dark eyes never straying from you as you read.

The incident remained on replay in Wednesday’s head for days.

It appeared that the rest of the school was in this predicament as well. Enid, of course, raved about your actions on her blog, informing anyone that hadn’t been in the quad of your power. Adrian and his pack of dimwits disappeared, much to Wednesday’s unending amusement.

Good riddance.

Overnight, you became the biggest gossip of the week. All eyes were on you and Wednesday couldn’t help but notice the similarities between your current situation and her when she first arrived at Nevermore.

She witnessed the students part like the Red Sea when you walked down the halls between classes. Loud conversations quieted to whispers as you passed and rose back up in volume when you left. Rumors, both bad and good, began swirling around you.

(Enid took it upon herself to try and disprove the bad ones on her blog. Wednesday just glared at anyone she heard gossiping about you. It was incredibly effective.)

The best part was that you didn’t care, at least not outwardly. Only a month ago, you would’ve hidden from this much attention, but now you seemed not to even notice. Disinterest was a good look on you, she noted.

The only downside of this was that it made any efforts to get close or approach without you instantly noticing her much more difficult. Wednesday didn’t want to risk it since she now knew that she had gotten a glimpse of your abilities.

She didn’t think you would use your powers on her, but it was still something she had to consider. So she elected to wait for a natural opportunity to get close to you.

And that opportunity came in an unexpected place: Botany class.

Wednesday despised Botany class. Both because it brought up bad memories from last semester and because the new teacher, Mr. Emerson annoyed her. Badly. His general happy demeanor and gratingly chipper voice made her want to commit unspeakable offenses. Worst of all, the overexcited imbecile loved group projects.

When he announced that he would be assigning another one, it was met with a predictable amount of displeasure from the class. Usually, Wednesday would be among them, but not this time.

One of the only tolerable things about Emerson’s group projects was his tendency to pair students with similar grades together. Given Wednesday’s immaculate grades, she was always put with someone with similar educational prospects.

You weren’t normally one of those people since you always had average grades in the subject. But your scores had risen over the semester, meaning the chances of you being paired with Wednesday were high.

Wednesday sat up straighter in her chair. This was possibly the best situation she could have found herself in now.

You being bound to her by educational obligation meant that she would be given ample opportunity to finally talk to you. It was perfect.

She impatiently waited for Emerson to announce the pairings, eyes instinctually drifting back toward your table.

For just a moment, she dared to believe that the stars would align for her here—just this once.

Then Emerson announced that you would be paired with her ex-archnemesis, Bianca Barclay.

Her jaw clenched as she stared into the space in front of her, not bothering to acknowledge her partner sheepishly approaching her table. She was foolish to waste her time with something as flimsy as hope.

She grimly watched you and Bianca nod at each other. You seemed satisfied with the news, probably because you hadn’t been paired with her.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you was as dissatisfied as she was.

Something unexpected happened after the project.

Wednesday had noticed you were spending time with Bianca but thought nothing of it. You two were partners after all. It was most likely just for the class project. Then, with no apparent reason to Wednesday, Bianca was suddenly everywhere with you.

She sat next to you in class, you joined her table at lunch, you could both be seen hanging around campus together after classes. She had even dropped Wednesday as her fencing partner to partner with you.

It hit Wednesday unexpectedly hard.

It was utterly maddening to watch you use your powers to get a pen Bianca dropped in class or see you laughing together without a care in the world at lunch.

And it was even worse because Wednesday knew she had no right to be upset about it. You weren’t hers anymore, so she had absolutely no say in whom you chose to spend time with. She knew that. She really did.

But something about seeing you so close to Bianca of all people—someone she couldn’t exactly call a friend but also certainly wasn’t an enemy—was too much for her.

Watching the two of you in fencing class was especially difficult. You had never been the best at fencing, having little to no interest, but now you seemed engrossed in the activity as Bianca helped you get into the on guard position. Her hands were on your arms and legs as she got you into position and Wednesday could do nothing but grip her sabre in her ire.

The other students avoided her, and they were smart to do so because she likely would have found a way to maim them now, even with their protective gear on.

She lasted about three classes before she cracked.

You were smiling and laughing in a way she hadn’t seen for nearly two months now and while she was glad to see you in higher spirits, she did not like that you were happier because of her.

As soon as the bell rang, she was on her way over to you, her determination and anger likely apparent in every step she took.

For a brief moment, your eyes met hers and Wednesday felt electricity course through her veins. It had been so long since you had truly looked at her. The eye contact was invigorating. But unfortunately, it didn’t last long because Bianca followed your line of sight and immediately jumped into action.

She watched Bianca drag you away, a new, unpleasant burning sensation making itself known in her chest. As if she had ingested acid and it was eating away at her insides slowly.

It was jealousy, she realized with an internal jolt.

She was jealous. Of Bianca fucking Barclay.

The epiphany nearly made Wednesday break out into hives. This had gone on too long, she decided. Whether you wanted to see her or not, she would find a way to make this right.

It took Wednesday nearly three days to reach an embarrassingly simple conclusion.

She had been searching for a previously unthought of solution. Goody was a witch, so she thought perhaps an incantation or spell of some kind would be of use.

When, in reality, the answer had been in front of her the entire time. Or, more accurately, it had been staring at her from atop her desk.

Wednesday was a writer (still unpublished, but that wasn’t important) so it made the most sense for her to translate her complex feelings into written words.

The letter took two days to finish. She dedicated as much time to it as she could, even putting aside her novel for the days it took to complete, but she struggled much more than she anticipated.

Narrating Viper’s woeful adventures and hardships was easy, but something about transcribing her own feelings and thoughts into words evaded her. It just didn’t come naturally to Wednesday, and it showed.

Countless attempts ended up crumpled in her overflowing garbage can. She grimaced at the amount of paper being wasted, but it needed to be perfect. And eventually, she wrote one that was as close to perfection as she believed possible.

The moment the letter was finished, she put it in an envelope and called Thing to help her deliver it, ignoring the inquisitive look Enid was giving her from her side of the room. She didn’t want to waste another second.

She made the trip to your dorm in record time, pausing before your door. You were rarely in your dorm after classes these days, but she wanted to be safe.

She knocked. No answer. She nodded at Thing, who was resting on her shoulder, and extended her arm for him. Thing crawled down her arm and grabbed onto the doorknob but hesitated. Wednesday gave him a look.

“You wanted me to apologize, now I’m apologizing. I’m not going to take anything, I will simply leave the envelope on the bed and we will leave. Breaking and entering isn’t even a serious crime anyways,” Wednesday muttered, fishing the lockpick out of her pocket and giving it to the appendage. “Now hurry up, we don’t know when she’ll be back.”

With that, Thing got to work, fiddling around with the tool until the lock clicked, and the door opened. He hopped off the knob as Wednesday walked inside, immediately climbing up to your bed. Wednesday took a moment to look around the familiar room.

It had been a while since she’d been there, but it looked relatively the same. Little things were moved here and there but it remained mostly true to her memory. She took a step toward your bed when something on her right caught her eye.

On the wall just above your desk was a piece of paper. It was rather crudely hung onto the wall by what looked like a pen.

The reasonable part of her told her to leave it alone, but the detective within her couldn’t dismiss a possible clue.

She crept forward and braced her hand on the wall, careful not to touch the paper as she swiftly read through its contents. The letter, it turned out, was from your parents and it was appalling. How any parent could say such abhorrent things to their child, she didn’t know but it made her want to pay them a visit and test out her favorite torture methods on them.

Wednesday read through it again, committing every word to memory to quote back when she got her hands on your parents, but her eyes kept getting caught on one word.

Pathetic.

It was repeated a few times in the letter, making it stand out but it resonated with her for another reason. Because when she read it, she was taken back to that night when she hurt you so badly and she realized why that insult made her pause.

She had said that. She had called you the same thing your parents did.

Startled, Wednesday stepped back, her mind racing. This explained a lot—the recent change in your behavior, your willingness to use your powers, why you avoided Wednesday so intensely.

Suddenly, the letter in her hands felt inadequate. With this new information in mind, Wednesday made a decision.

“Change of plans. We’re leaving,” she marched to the door, envelope held so tightly in her grasp that it began to crease. Thing remained on the bed, confusion apparent in his stance. Wednesday looked back, exasperated. “I will tell you what’s going on later. Come on.”

Thing hurried off the bed and over to Wednesday, taking his rightful place on her shoulder as she walked out of your dorm.

Enid was gone when she reentered their dorm, likely off with Yoko and Divina. Wednesday was admittedly thankful for her absence. As much as she had grown to care for the multi-colored werewolf, she could still be a lot at times and she needed peace right now.

Silently, Wednesday stationed herself in her chair in front of her typewriter. Thing jumped off her shoulder and rounded on her, about to ask what was going on, but one look at her face had him running off to her bed.

Wednesday never liked unexpected developments in her cases and that remained true now. Your parents’ letter took her completely by surprise. It recontextualized everything.

The damage she had done was unforeseeable and she saw now that a letter alone, no matter how beautifully written, would be insufficient. You deserved more than a piece of paper after what she’d done.

Wednesday looked down at the envelope in her hand. It contained so much of how she felt and yet it simultaneously said so little in the grand scheme of things.

Because even apart from her regrets, she had so much she wanted to tell you now. She wanted to tell you how proud she was to see you stand up to Adrian and his friends, how incredible your abilities were, how good you looked while using them. But before she could do any of that, she knew she owed you an apology—a real one.

One delivered from her own mouth rather than through stationery.

But you were still avoiding her like the black plague. Approaching you herself had already failed. Deep down, she knew what she had to do. If she wanted an audience with you, she would have to do something she despised.

Ask for help.

A firm knock cut through the silence of the hallway.

Wednesday waited patiently, sparing another look around the corridor to make sure nobody she knew was around to see her. The sound of approaching footsteps brought her attention back in front of her.

The door opened to reveal a casually clothed Bianca Barclay, whose expression instantly hardened at the sight of Wednesday.

“What the hell do you want, Addams?” Bianca asked, an aggression she hadn’t been on the receiving end of since her first semester present in her tone. Wednesday paid no mind to it.

“I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

Bianca laughed. “No.”

The siren began to shut the door but Wednesday shoved her foot in the doorway to prevent it from closing.

“Move, Wednesday.”

Bianca tried to kick her foot out of the way. Wednesday didn’t budge.

“No. I need to talk to you,” Wednesday said, moving to make eye contact with the taller girl once more. Bianca tried to push the door closed. When she gained no traction, she sighed.

“You’re not going to leave me alone about this are you?”

“No,” Wednesday deadpanned.

Bianca stared for a moment, then opened the door. Wednesday strode inside and stood by Bianca’s desk, hands poised behind her back as Bianca sat down on her bed.

“What do you want, Wednesday?”

“I have a feeling you already know what I’d like to discuss with you,” Wednesday stated, unblinking eyes boring into her former adversary. Bianca was giving Wednesday a hard glare. Not nearly menacing enough to compare to Wednesday’s own, but an admirable effort, nonetheless.

“You know she doesn’t want to see you.”

“I simply need to speak with her.”

Bianca snickered mirthlessly. “Yeah, because that went so well the last few times, right?”

Wednesday bitterly swallowed the myriad of insults on her tongue. She supposed she deserved that. And pissing Bianca off further wouldn’t help her case.

Bianca was about as resistant as Wednesday expected her to be. The siren was almost as stubborn as she was.

The logical part of her knew what needed to be done, no matter how much she dreaded it. In order to get her counterpart to listen, she would have to do something downright deplorable: tell Bianca the truth.

She took a deep breath. God, emotions were embarrassing. But even just the chance to talk to you again made it worth it, so she pushed the lingering humiliation down and opened herself up. Just a little bit.

“Listen, I know that I hurt her badly. What I did—what I said has haunted me in the weeks since it happened. My intentions are not nefarious. I truly just want a chance to apologize to her in person,” Wednesday’s fists clenched, fighting every instinct to roll her eyes as she forced out a final, “Please.”

Bianca stayed silent even after Wednesday finished her plea. Seconds turned to minutes and Wednesday was nearly about to walk away when Bianca sighed and pulled out her phone. Wednesday’s brows furrowed, curiously regarding the siren as she typed something out.

Bianca set her phone down and met Wednesday’s questioning gaze. “I asked her to meet me at the library tomorrow at 4:30. You better give her the apology she deserves.”

“I will,” Wednesday asserted, resolute. Bianca nodded.

“Good. Now get out, I have things to do besides listen to your begging.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched, but she spun on her heels without comment. She paused by the door, turned back. “Thank you, Bianca.”

Surprise flashed in the siren’s eyes but her expression remained stony. “This is your only chance, Addams. If you fuck it up, I’m not helping you again.”

Wednesday gave her a sharp nod and left the dorm.

Wednesday was at the library thirty minutes before your scheduled meetup.

She tasked Thing with keeping the door locked and standing guard. Wednesday herself lingered behind some shelves in a corner of the library, awaiting your arrival.

The seconds felt like hours as she stood in waiting, the hard bookshelf against her back grounding her. She felt as if all of her nerve endings were attached to live wire. Wednesday couldn’t remember the last time she was this nervous about anything. Perhaps she never had been.

You showed up at 4:20, early as always. She used the extra ten minutes to further prepare herself for the conversation. She couldn’t mess it up this time. This was her only shot.

At exactly 4:30, she walked over and revealed herself to you.

It started as catastrophicly as she feared it would, but somehow, she got you to stay. You gave her five minutes of your time and she wasn’t going to waste it.

So she swallowed her pride, tore down her walls, and apologized to you with everything she had. Her speech went above and beyond what she initially wrote out. Once she started, she just couldn’t stop. The floodgates were open, and all of her emotions came pouring out to you.

By the time she was finished, she could only hope that she didn’t go over the allotted five minutes.

You were quiet after she finished speaking, enough to daunt her. She offered you an out, convinced you would take it and never talk to her again. But that wasn’t what happened.

Against all her expectations, against all odds, you forgave her.

One more chance was what you told her and she took those words to heart. This was her last chance and she refused to squander it.

In the moment, she had no real reaction to your forgiveness, she couldn’t muster one truthfully. The intense bout of emotional honesty had drained her. When she finally regained a modicum of her composure, she hesitantly wrapped her arms around you, resting her head over your heart.

Later, she would be embarrassed by the tears that gathered in her eyes when she felt you return the embrace, but in the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The feeling of your arms around her erupted a wildfire within her and for the first time in months, she basked in the flames.

Eventually, she let go of you and you both reluctantly left the library with promises to see the other the next day.

Thing eagerly approached her the moment she opened the door, tapping out “what happened?” the whole way back to her dorm but she stayed quiet.

Expelling so many emotions in such a short amount of time drained her. She decided to just tell Thing and Enid at the same time so she wouldn’t need to talk any more than she had to.

Enid was ecstatic that you were back on good terms, as was Thing. The hand wasted no time scurrying off to your dorm, giving Wednesday a gentle pat on the way out. Enid on the other hand jumped on Wednesday, wrapping her in a tight hug. Wednesday rolled her eyes but allowed the contact. If Enid noticed the extra five seconds Wednesday waited before shoving her off, she didn’t say anything.

The next day, she woke feeling lighter than she had in a while.

It was a Tuesday so unfortunately, your schedules didn’t intersect much. She went about her day as usual, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit distracted.

She was finally on her way to lunch—on her way to see you—when someone fell into step beside her.

‘I heard your talk went well,” Bianca said, perfectly matching her strides. Wednesday nodded.

“Indeed. I suppose I should thank you again for your assistance.”

Bianca said nothing. The siren stopped just before they reached their destination, pulling Wednesday to a halt as well. Wednesday looked up at the taller girl questioningly.

“I’m happy for the both of you. Really, I am. But, Wednesday, if you hurt her again, I will use my siren song and make you tear your heart out of your chest with your bare hands.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched, slightly impressed by the threat. She stepped toward the siren.

“If I ever do, I will tear it out myself. No siren song required.”

Bianca stared for a long moment then nodded, and they went their separate ways.

Wednesday stepped into the quad and saw you at her table, listening to Enid’s overly excited rambling about something. Thing sat on the table between you two, apparently also invested in whatever gossip was happening.

Your eyes met hers over Enid’s shoulder and you gave her a small smile as she rounded the table and settled in her usual spot beside you.

“Wednesday,” Enid exclaimed in greeting, “you’re finally here! You have to hear about the drama going on with the Fangs. It’s insane. I’m working on a post for it now-“

Wednesday immediately tuned her out, instead focusing on the way your thigh lightly pressed against hers. Her eyes were drawn to the hand resting in your lap. She fought the urge to reach for it, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

You saw her eying your hand and subtly placed it on your thigh. An offer. Wednesday graciously accepted, gently linking your pinkies, the ghost of a smile on her face.

It wasn’t the same, and it likely wouldn’t be for some time, but what mattered was that you were back by her side. And as long as Wednesday could help it, you would never leave it again.

#take a shot every time i use the word watch #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega

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