Work Text:
The worksheet looked normal enough until halfway down, when the instructions abruptly switched from English into something definitely not English.
“Ugh, seriously? Who just switches languages in the middle of an assignment?” Eugene groaned in defeat.
Enid leaned over from across the table, squinting at the page. The motion nearly tipped her coffee cup over the stack of books, if Wednesday, seated at her side, hadn’t caught it and slid it away in time.
“I think it’s Italian…” Enid guessed, then frowned, “no, wait, maybe French? Hold on, I’ll get the translator”
She fished out her phone, but Wednesday cut her off with a sigh. She pulled the book closer, flattening it against the table. They’d only been in the library a few minutes at Wednesday’s idea of forcing Enid and Eugene to tackle their backlogged assignments and already the pair were drifting toward distraction. Wednesday knew the moment Enid’s phone lit up, it would be all over.
“Établissez la différence entre le spécimen original et le spécimen corrompu et énumérez-les dans l’ordre d’apparition attendu” Wednesday read smoothly, her voice steady and unbothered, “basically, you need to identify the differences between both specimens and list them on the order they are expected to appear”
She slid the book back to Eugene and returned to her own reading.
A phone dropped onto the table with a loud clatter.
Wednesday looked up. Eugene and Enid were both staring at her, mouths open. Eugene’s awe was expected, with how easily he seemed impressed at everything Wednesday did. Enid’s reaction was… stranger. She was pink-cheeked, wide-eyed, and visibly struggling to breathe.
“What?” Wednesday asked, genuinely confused.
“You… you speak French?” Enid swallowed hard.
“I speak many languages, Enid” Wednesday replied, her head tilted in mild curiosity, “why are you flushed? Are you ill?”
“I’m not flushed!” Enid squeaked, slapping her hands to her cheeks, “it’s just… warm in here!”
Wednesday’s unimpressed arch of her brow said otherwise.
“Wow” Eugene cut in, unknowingly and mercifully drawing attention away from Enid, “that’s so cool, Wednesday. Quickly, say something else! It sounds so… fancy”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
“Vous êtes tous les deux des enfants très paresseux et facilement distraits” she replied crisply, then darkened her tone in warning, “et je veillerai à vous faire souffrir si vous ne terminez pas vos devoirs dans l'heure qui suit”
Her r’s rolled, the vowels lingered, low and raspy at Wednesday’s usual guttural tone.
Enid made a strangled sound, half gasp, half choke, that could probably have carried all the way to the student quad, and it surely resonated on every corner of the library.
Eugene, who didn’t understand a word but understood Wednesday’s tone, immediately scrambled to reclaim the book and bury himself in work.
Wednesday, however, turned back to her girlfriend. She gently caught Enid’s hands, frowning at how clammy they suddenly felt.
“Are you okay, ma loup?” she asked softly, genuine concern slipping into her voice.
Enid whimpered, an honest to god, embarrassing whimper, at both the touch and the words.
“I’m… I’m fine, my moon” she rushed, squeezing Wednesday’s hand before ducking behind her own open book, using it as a shield to hide the blaze in her face.
Wednesday blinked once.
Whatever had just occurred was a mystery, but at least the mountain of overdue homework was finally getting some attention.
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When they stepped into their room just before lunch was over, Wednesday was already fuming. The crisp envelope in her hand was on the verge of becoming a crumpled ball under the strain of her grip.
Enid trailed in behind her, still clueless about the letter’s contents.
“So… bad news or really bad news?” she asked, nerves prickling at the sight of her girlfriend so distressed.
“Worse news…” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped with contained fury. She stopped in place, eyes flicking toward the door, “ferme la porte”
Enid didn’t know the words, but she didn’t need to.
The Addams command tone was universal. She rushed to shut the door and her fingers snapped the lock into place almost on instinct. The wolf inside her whined at how good it felt to obey.
Heat crawled up her neck before she shook herself.
‘Not the time, Sinclair. Hormonal much?’
“It’s my editor” Wednesday resumed her storm, now pacing across the room, “they dare request I… perform. Stand before a hoarder of simpering sycophants, reciting my own words like some parlor trick”
“Oh…” realization dawned on Enid, “so they’re asking you to do a reading of your book? The first one, or the new one?”
“The new one…” Wednesday wasn’t as angry at the request, as it was to the attempted conditioning, “they won’t publish unless I appear at the presentation”
“But babe…” Enid tilted her head, thoughtful, “you like your readers. The ‘De la muerte squad’ just hit nine million on Insta! You’ve got more followers for your book than Katseye!”
“The problem is not the readers. I respect them for their exquisite taste. And that last word you said means nothing to me…” she pinched the bridge of her nose, then let out a sharp sigh, “le problème, ce sont les éditeurs. Ce sont des vautours, des charognards avides, obsédés par les ventes et la célébrité, et ils ne comprennent rien au respect des auteurs ni à leurs livres!”
Enid couldn’t follow a word, except maybe ‘problem’, even if her life depended on it, but she didn’t need to. She felt every bit of Wednesday’s fury and indignation. Every precise flick of her tongue, every consonant as daggers, rolling into smooth vowels that made her knees weak.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Wedns…” her voice broke at the only heads up she’d give.
She crossed the room in two steps, caught her girlfriend mid-rant and pressed her mouth hungrily against Wednesday’s.
For a fraction of a second, Wednesday went rigid with surprise. Then her hands flew up to cradle Enid’s cheeks, kissing back with equal ferocity.
The tension of anger transmuted into something else entirely. Wednesday didn’t hold back of bitting Enid’s lips hard, with desperation to taste more. Demanding more.
Enid whimpered into the kiss, clutching Wednesday’s waist and forcing her back against the spiderwebbed window. Her pulse hammered, French still echoing through her head like a spell.
Wednesday had just parted her lips, allowing entrance to Enid’s insistent tongue when the shriek of the school’s bell vibrated through the walls.
Enid jolted as if waking from a trance, but before she could pull away, Wednesday caught her wrists, trapping her hands firmly at her waist.
She drew back slowly, eyes still dark. Her expression unreadable but her lips very much flushed.
Enid swallowed hard, face burning.
“Um… I guess we should…” her voice trailed off, her usual blue-gray irises almost entirely drowned in black, “uh… class…”
Wednesday arched a brow, mind already parsing the puzzle of her girlfriend’s impromptu attack.
They had long since passed kisses and the occasional wandering touch, but Enid Sinclair was always considerate. Always careful. Always asking.
This sudden desperation was… new. New and suspicious.
And Wednesday Addams never left suspicion untested.
“Yes, class…” she agreed, finally releasing Enid’s hands to retrieve her messenger bag from where it felt after being tackled.
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The next class should have been one of those boring lectures Enid usually spent gossiping with her girlfriend. Or more precisely, delivering gossip while Wednesday sat unperturbed, taking immaculate notes for them both.
Except this time, it wasn’t just boring. It was torture. Torture 2.0, courtesy of Wednesday Addams.
As always, they sat together, Wednesday’s notes already immaculate and her gaze fixed forward.
But when the professor began to drone, Wednesday leaned slightly toward her girlfriend, just enough that Enid paused mid-sentence about Nevermore’s latest cheating scandal.
“Écoute attentivement, ma loup” Wednesday whispered.
Enid jumped.
Wednesday’s mouth twitched, the barest ghost of amusement. She turned her attention back to the board as if nothing had happened.
Then a few moments later, when Enid hadn’t even recovered to begin with, added.
“C'est un sujet très intéressant, n'êtes-vous pas d'accord, ma loup?”
The blush was instant, blooming high across Enid’s cheeks.
She shifted in her chair, tugged at her jacket sleeves, and stared very hard at her notebook. Her completely blank notebook.
Wednesday, of course, noticed everything.
Enid’s twitching ears. The restless shuffle of her legs. The small, strangled sound she made when Wednesday bent close enough that her breath brushed the shell of her ear.
“Ne soyez pas distraite”
When the bell finally rang, Enid looked wrecked. Flushed, jittery, pupils blown wide. There was no way she could survive another class like this.
She bolted from her seat before Wednesday could even close her notebook, catching her hand in a desperate grip.
“Come on” Enid muttered, voice trembling but determined.
Wednesday allowed herself to be dragged, dark curiosity gleaming in her eyes as Enid stormed down the hall pointedly in the opposite direction of their next class.
They didn’t even stop as two sharp snaps of her fingers later, the Poe statue groaned open, and Enid shoved her girlfriend through the gap.
Her chest rose and fell in rapid bursts while closing the heavy door behind them.
“Enough” she burst out, spinning on Wednesday, “you… you can’t just…”
“Je ne peux pas?” Wednesday smirked.
That was the last straw.
Enid surged forward, fisting both hands in Wednesday’s collar and kissing her like she’d been starving all period long.
The kiss against the door was frantic and messy. All teeth and heat.
Enid pressed Wednesday back hard enough that the door rattled on its hinges.
Wednesday allowed it, lips moving in precise counterpoint, not fighting for control this time and letting Enid pour out all that pent-up fire. But when the wolf’s grip tightened pleasantly painful on her shoulders, Wednesday broke the kiss just enough to whisper, dry amusement threading her voice.
“Wouldn’t this…be more… comfortable…” she tried between relentless kisses, “… in our room?”
Enid tore back just enough to pant, eyes wide, blue replaced by yellow, cheeks flushed scarlet.
“Too far” she blurted before capturing Wednesday’s lips as if they were water, and she was in the dessert.
Breaking the kiss again, and before Wednesday could protest, Enid tugged her by the wrist, dragging her down the stone steps into the cool shadows of the Nightshades library.
She stopped just short of the couch, spun, and all but stripped the jacket off Wednesday’s shoulders before pushing her into the cushions.
Her breath hitched.
Wednesday was always beautiful to look at, but right now she was a vision. Just sat there, with unnerving composure, tie, and vest still immaculate, dark eyes glinting in anticipation. She was devastating.
Her lower belly twisted with an unfamiliar sensation.
“Have I…” Enid swallowed hard, “have I told you how handsome you look in just your vest, tie, and blouse uniform?”
One brow arched, the faintest smirk tugging at Wednesday’s lips.
“Really?”
Enid’s hands were already on the buttons of the vest, fumbling, desperate.
“Really” she insisted, straddling Wednesday’s lap as the last button came free.
Wednesday leaned back slightly, gaze heavy on her.
“So then… you wouldn’t want to remove them, right?” she said, smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Enid whimpered.
“Wedns…” she said with half a laugh, half growl, but clear desperation in her tone.
Wednesday didn’t answer. She simply lifted her chin, offering the line of her throat and the perfect symmetry of her collar.
Enid’s fingers worked clumsily loosening the tie until it draped uselessly down Wednesday’s chest.
Wednesday did not move to help or hinder. She simply watched, eyes dark cataloguing every tremor of Enid’s hands, every ragged breath, every flush spreading down her neck.
Then came the blouse, buttons slipping free one by one until warm brown skin and the faint outline of a bra peeked through.
Enid froze. Mortified.
Adjusting herself and settling onto Wednesday’s thighs, she leaned back for a second to take in the sight.
The wolf in her whimpered in awe. Her pulse raced so fast it almost hurt, and before she could stop herself, her fangs slid down, sharp and ready.
Wednesday only tilted her head, gaze flicking to the glint of ivory in Enid’s parted lips. Fangs had never looked more inviting.
“Interesting” she murmured, as calm as if she were noting the time of day. Her hands rose, first to gently push her thumb against the sharp fang, testing, then to rest, steady and grounding, at Enid’s waist, “proceed…”
Enid stopped breathing at the word.
She did want to proceed.
She didn’t want to stop.
God, she wanted to.
‘What are we doing? Are we ready for this?’
Her chest heaved, her fingers twitching against the loose fabric of Wednesday’s blouse.
Wednesday tilted her head, assessing, eyes dark and patient.
“As-tu peur, chiot?” she said very softly.
‘Puppy’, that one she knew, somehow.
The word wrapped around her like velvet and chains at once.
She didn’t hesitate again.
Her mouth crashed back onto Wednesday’s, famished and unrestrained. Her hands slipped inside the parted blouse, tentative at first, then bolder, caressing the curve of ribs, the sharp cut of the waist.
Then she felt it.
Her nails skimmed the defined planes of Wednesday’s stomach.
‘Abs. Actual fucking abs…’
Enid nearly came undone right there.
The startled moan that escaped Wednesday’s lips at the drag of Enid’s nails only fueled the fire.
“Holy shit…” Enid whimpered against her mouth, dizzy with want.
Wednesday shifted slightly beneath her, adjusting their position, and the movement pressed their cores together.
Sparks shot through Enid’s body, her hips jerking without thought. The sensation made her whimper, sharp and high.
‘Okay…okay… that’s the direction, huh?’
Her body took over.
She rocked against Wednesday, helplessly, instinctively, chasing the friction like her life depended on it.
Wednesday, ever collected, murmured between kisses. Soft, lilting French. Words Enid couldn’t understand, but somehow felt.
Praise.
Adoration.
Endearments that melted her bones and burned her skin all at once.
“Wedns…” Enid gasped, half a sob, “I don’t… I don’t know what to…”
Wednesday’s hands tightened at her waist, grounding and guiding.
“Just let it go, ma loup” she whispered, calm in the eye of the storm, “whatever you’re feeling… don’t hold back”
That was all it took.
A few more desperate rolls of her hips and Enid broke apart, trembling, every nerve lit up in white heat. She collapsed forward, forehead falling to Wednesday’s shoulder, panting raggedly as the world spun.
Wednesday’s arms encircled her at once, steady, pulling her close. She pressed her lips to Enid’s temple, holding her wolf until the shudders subsided.
Enid’s breathing gradually evened, though her forehead stayed pressed to Wednesday’s shoulder, as if moving might undo her completely.
Her fingers curled weakly in the open fabric of Wednesday’s blouse, clinging like she might float away otherwise.
“What… oh my god… what was that?” she managed finally in a hoarse whisper.
Wednesday, filled with the warmth of Enid’s body still pressed against hers, leaned in and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth.
“La petite mort, ma loup” she murmured.
Enid made a strangled little sound and slapped a palm over Wednesday’s mouth.
“English, please. Give me a break or I’ll go crazy”
Wednesday’s smirk curved slow beneath her hand. She peeled it away, dark eyes gleaming.
“The little death” she translated, “I felt your consciousness leaving and your soul escaping from your body, my sun. It was… delicious to witness”
Enid’s jaw dropped.
“You mean…that’s that?! But… but we’re fully clothed! You didn’t even touch me!”
Wednesday’s fingers trailed idly down her waist, teasing, before she drew them back with restraint.
“Then imagine how much fun it will be once we make it back to the room” she said in a playful challenge.
Enid’s cheeks went scarlet. She didn’t fight the image that immediately flickered through her head.
She scrambled up from the couch, brushing at her hair and trying to get her legs back under her to functional state again.
“Oh my god” she muttered, more to herself than anyone.
Wednesday remained seated, calmly buttoning her blouse one by one, adjusting her vest back into place.
“So” she said finally, standing up and slipping her arms back into her jacket, “would you like to tell me again what was that about you thinking I’m ‘handsome’?”
Enid swallowed, heat rushing to her face all over again at the sight of her girlfriend putting the jacket back on.
‘So… so hot…’
She met Wednesday’s gaze, eyes bright and wolfish.
“Please accept my soul” she pleaded.
Wednesday’s smirk deepened, slow and predatory.
“Je l'ai déjà, ma loup”