Friends? (Part 4)

Friends? (Part 4)

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: After your encounter with your mother, you go back to your time, and to your girlfriend Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none (?) a/n: this might be the last partttt (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

When you opened your eyes again, you were back in your room, in your girlfriend’s arms. She was awake already but seemed lost in thoughts. You tilted your head up and kissed her jaw softly, letting her know you were awake too.

She looked down to you and pressed her lips on your forehead.

“Good morning”

“Wends, you’ll never guess what I saw!” you started, so excited to tell her about your mom

“What did you see, cara mia?”

You both repositioned yourselves on your bed in a more comfortable position to talk.

Your eyes were shining the whole time you talked. You looked so happy to finally know who your mother was…

“And you? Did you see anything?” you asked your girlfriend, a bright smile still on your face

Wednesday’s eyes scanned your face for a split second, as if she was taking in your features and traits. Again, she seemed lost in thoughts.

She woke up in a room, in Nevermore, but it was certainly not yours. The decoration had changed, and you were nowhere to be found. The raven frowned, confused. You were in her arms just moments ago, you couldn’t have disappeared like that.

She took a moment to examine the room with attention to try to understand what was going on. The decoration was quite pleasant to her; she could’ve decorated her room like that. But it was clearly not her room.

She was about to look at a picture on a shelf when the door burst opened. Surprised by the unusual discretion of the person, Wednesday jumped slightly, and took out the knife she always had in her pocket. A knife you had gifted her on one of your dates after hers broke.

The other person didn’t seem to have noticed her yet. It was a girl, who was looking for something into a drawer.

The raven took a few steps closer, silently, but the other girl seemed to hear it because she quickly turned around. Out of reflex, Wednesday’s knife found its place close to the other’s throat.

Surprisingly, the girl had a knife as well and it was also close to the raven’s throat. That was very unusual now.

“Who are you?” the girl asked

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Wednesday replied, unimpressed

“I asked first! You have to answer first, that’s the rules”

Wednesday held back a little smile. It was totally the kind of thing you could say.

“My knife is closer to your throat.” she simply said

The girl looked at the knife, and it was clearly closer to her. She rolled her eyes and mumbled:

“I knew I had to practice more” she then looked back at Wednesday “Truce? We put the knives aside and then we can talk?”

The raven considered the suggestion for a second, before giving her a slight nod. They both put their weapons down at the same time but stayed alert.

“So?” Wednesday said again, becoming impatient

“Yes, sorry. I’m Lilith”

“Do you have a last name?”

“Addams. With two D’s” the girl declared as if people made the mistake very often

The raven was surprised, to say the least.

“Does Fester have a child he never told us about?” she asked, raising an eyebrow

“What? Why are you- How do you know- What is happening?”

“I didn’t know there was another Addams in Nevermore…” Wednesday mumbled to herself

“‘Another’? What do you mean?”

“I’m Wednesday Addams.” she simply replied

Lilith’s eyes widen at her words, and her mouth formed a perfect O.

“That’s why you look so familiar! But- how- I mean-”

She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence and got cut off by the door opening again. Wednesday’s eyes shifted to the person who opened it. It was an older version of you in her mid 30’s.

“Honey, is everything okay? You’ve been gone for a long time, we-” Wednesday’s gaze met ‘yours’ “Wednesday…? What the-”

You turned to Lilith, confused, then back to Wednesday.

“What is happening here?”

“I don’t know! I just wanted to show you the snowball, and then she was in my room! I swear mom, I-”

“Mom?” Wednesday repeated with wide eyes

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do. Wednesday noticed a ring on your left ring finger.

“Lilith, baby, can you find your mother and tell her she needs to come right now?” you finally said

The girl looked at you, then nodded before going out of the room, not without a last glance towards Wednesday.

“Okay um… Hi? I guess?” you said awkwardly “Do you know how you got here, maybe?”

“… Y/n?” was all that the raven managed to say

You smiled at the sound of your name.

“Yes, it’s me. I take it as I didn’t age badly” you chuckle softly

“Oh, you clearly didn’t…” she looked you up and down “I have… no idea how I got here.” she then admitted

“What do you remember? Anything in particular?”

“We found a ritual in Goody’s spellbook but it didn’t work. And then we went to bed. That’s all.”

“The… the ritual? Oh god… Oh god…!” Your surprised expression soon turned into an offended one “So you didn’t wake up yet? I didn’t tell you anything about what I saw yet?”

The raven shook her head.

“Oh my god…” you put your hands on your hips

She was about to say something when the door opened again, revealing an older version of herself this time.

“Cara mia? What’s wrong? Lilith told me-”

“Wednesday Friday Addams!” you said, not letting her any more time, your index poking at her chest “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Confusion was visible on her face. Then she looked over to her younger self, and her expression changed to an amused one.

“Oh, so it’s today?”

“Don’t dodge the subject! You told me you saw nothing!”

“Sorry my love, I did not want to risk our future”

You rolled your eyes but had a little smile on your face.

“You were scared I wouldn’t marry you if you told me? I would’ve married you even if you had a third arm or something”

Her expression softened a bit more, and she kissed you softly.

“Let’s talk about that later, okay?” then she turned to her younger self “you have the answer you wanted, don’t you?”

“No. I didn’t see anything.” she gave you one of those smiles only you got to see “But it’s normal as I didn’t have any question.”

“Oh, right, sure” you said with a light chuckle, before your gaze fell on your alarm clock “Oh, shit! We need to go to class!”

You quickly got out of bed and ran to your bathroom to get ready.

Wednesday watched you from the bed, halfway between amused and exasperation, looking at the date on your phone: ‘Sunday 12 May’.

I am going to marry an idiot… My idiot.

[Previous part]

Luck Runs Out |Part 10|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Mabel paced around her apartment. You had just left not too long ago, left to go meet a bunch of drug dealers who would put a bullet in the back of your head the second they got what they wanted. She hated you; you were a selfless self-sacrificing asshole. She didn’t know what to do with herself, she would never know for sure if you were alive or dead, she’d never know if you suffered. You almost kissed her, she wanted nothing more than to close the gap, but you pulled away, going that extra distance would have meant something, she didn’t think she could handle it meaning something if you were just going to go off and die.

She kept glancing at the clock, every minute felt like hours. You might not have even been on the boat yet, you had to walk, so there was a chance you were just getting to the dock. Mabel kept glancing at her keys, it would be so easy for her to hop in her car, drive down there and pull you into the safety of her vehicle. Doing that would just mean, she, you, Charlie, and anyone else connected to any of you would be in danger.

Unable to take the unbearable silence Mabel grabbed her keys and jumped in her car. She turned the key and just sat there, the sun had just begun to rise, the rest of the world still wasn’t awake yet. She smacked her steering wheel until the palm of her hand began to sting. She really hated you for what you were making her do. She let out a scream that turned into more of a groan and let her head flop onto the steering wheel. Mabel lifted her head, putting on the familiar emotionless expression she used to always use before flipping on her turn signal and pulling out of her parking space.

Mabel drove, her surroundings a blur as she passed them. She didn’t even bother turning on the radio, her thoughts were solely filled with you. God, she really hated you, she hadn’t known you for very long and yet you had effortlessly worked your way into her heart. Part of her really wished she had met you before, then maybe the two of you could have been something, maybe the two of you could have lived out each of your dreams. Part of her felt that way, the other part of her was glad she met you when she did. If she had met you before, she probably wouldn’t have given you a chance. She would have written you off like every other dealer she’d known, like she almost did.

She glanced out the window at the condo complex and she parked her beat up red car on the street. She sighed, looking up at the tall building, even if she got her dream job, she still wouldn’t have even been able to dream about living some place so nice. The doorman glanced at her, wrinkling his nose as she yanked open the door to the lobby but didn’t otherwise so much as attempt to stop her. Mabel glanced around the fancy lobby as she waited for the elevator, seeing the leather couch and chairs by the window that didn’t look like they had ever been sat in.

Even the elevator was fancy, soft music playing as it lightly hummed, as it took her to the floor she wanted. A robotic female voice lightly crackled through the speaker, informing her when she arrived at the floor, then told her to have a nice day. When she stepped out, she looked from side to side, seeing a handful of doors stretched out on each side. As Mabel made her way to the correct door, she noted how the space from one door to the next was bigger than her entire apartment.

Mabel let out a sigh, shaking her hands as she put her game face on. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, her knock sounding louder than ever as it echoed through the quiet hallway. Mabel looked down the hall as she waited for an answer, the amount of people living in the building, and she doubted any of them knew each other. She wasn’t friends with her neighbors, but they all knew each other, these people probably couldn’t pick their doorman out of a line up let alone tell someone his name.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she finally heard the click of the lock being slid out of place. She knew the condo had to be big but that didn’t mean it had to take three minutes to answer the door. Mabel had a snarky remark at the ready, but the words quickly died in her mouth when the door opened.

“What are you doing here?” The doctor asked, glaring at Mabel. He stood in his doorway, using his body and the door to block her from seeing into his place.

Mabel stared up at the doctor, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. “What the hell happened to you?” Finally left her mouth.

The doctor’s face looked like it had been beaten in. There were dark bruises around his eyes and cheeks, his nose was smashed, he had a split lip and more bruising. He somehow looked even worse than you. Mabel might not have spent much time with the doctor, but she had never seen so much as a scratch on him. People begged to work with him, they bent over backwards to please him, he wasn’t some lackey on a random gang's payroll.

“Come to get an up-close look at what your little friend did?” he sneered.

Mabel furrowed her brow, she didn’t have any friends, she definitely didn’t have any that knew the doctor, besides Charlie, but she knew there was no way he had done that. “Y/N?” Mabel’s eyes widened.

“Nearly broke my fucking hand,” he said through gritted teeth.

He held out the hand he had originally hidden on the side of the door. Mabel’s mouth dropped open. The doctor was a surgeon, his hands were basically everything. His right hand wasn’t in a cast or even wrapped up, but Mabel could still see the impression of a boot. There was bruising all across the back of his hand, if whoever stepped on it had pressed down just a bit harder then surely, they would have smashed his hand completely.

He pushed off the doorway, leaving the door open as he walked back into his apartment. “Or did you come to finish the job?” he called out.

Mabel slid her foot forward, almost crossing the threshold into his apartment. In the hallway she was safe but if she crossed into the apartment anything could happen. Before she could think through her decision and why it was a bad idea, she stepped into the apartment.

“What happened?” she asked again. She looked the doctor up and down, he was favoring his left leg as he made his way to the kitchen island to poor himself a drink, despite it not even being eight in the morning yet.

The doctor spun around, drink still in his hand, tilting his head as he watched Mabel. “You don’t know?” he asked, letting out a humorless chuckle.

Mabel could only shake her head. You visited the doctor, but you had barely even met him, she didn’t know how you could possibly know where he lived or worked. You beat the shit out of him, Mabel hadn’t even seen people who were late on payments suffer such a beating. Maybe you knew the doctor from before, because clearly this was personal for you. Mabel didn’t think you were much of a fighter, not in that way, but she hadn’t known you very long, so many the truth was she didn’t know you at all, maybe this was exactly who you were.

“Your friend,” the doctor spit, Mabel could hear the disgust in his voice. “Paid your debt.” He chuckled loudly, sloshing his drink as he waved his arms around.

“What?” Mabel whispered, her eyes widening at the implication of those words.

“Your debt,” he said bitterly. “Paid off!” he threw his hands in the air, sloshing more of his drink, not that he seemed to notice. “Warned me to stay away from you,” he pointed at her. “Completely paid everything,” he pointed across the room. Mabel followed his finger to a duffel bag next to his couch. “Said if I ever contacted you again, they’d kill me.” He threw his head back, downing the rest of his glass.

Mabel ignored him as she walked to the duffel back. She held her breath as she slowly unzipped it. She pushed the bag apart, her eyes landing on stacks upon stacks of money. She brought a hand to her mouth, the only way you could get access to that much money that quickly would be if you used your savings, the money you had been saving to get a sailboat so you could follow your dream.

“When?” Mabel asked, turning back to the doctor.

“Yesterday,” he said, shrugging. “Had to use my vacation time. Now, get out,” he pointed towards the door.

Mabel didn’t need to be told twice; she was out the door before the doctor could pull himself away from the kitchen island. On her way down to her car she kept trying to figure out how you knew about the doctor. Mabel had never told you about her debt to him let alone mentioned how much she owed him. She didn’t tell you because though you were the one he was helping it wasn’t your problem, she was the one who called him.

Based on the timeline you had visited him before going to see your boss. You grabbed your life savings and paid Mabel’s debt before you went to try and save the life of her ex and his friends. You really were selfless, god she really hated you. When she got in her car, she turned her key and sped down the road, already knowing where she was going. If you thought you could just go off and secretly pay her debt and then go get yourself killed, you were wrong.

Mabel sped down the street, ignoring most traffic laws, she didn’t have time to stop at things like red lights and stop signs. She slammed on her breaks when she got in front of her destination. She got out of her car, slamming the door before she started her march up the walkway, to the house she had become very familiar with in the last year.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, coming out the front door before Mabel even got to the first step. “Did something happen? Are you okay?” He rushed down the steps, reaching his arms out as if he were going to touch her but stopped before he could.

“We’re going to rescue Y/N,” Mabel said.

“What?” Charlie took a step back, his eyes widening.

“Call Tommy,” Mabel gestured impatiently. “We don’t have a lot of time, they’re probably already on the water.”

“Are you insane?” Charlie held out his arms, his eyes darting all around Mabel’s face.

“They paid my debt.” Charlie scrunched his eyebrows before his shoulders relaxed, his mouth dropping open at the reveal. “I can’t just let them die.”

“What do you expect to do?” Charlie asked softly. Mabel clenched her jaw, it took everything in her to not snap at Charlie, she knew he was just looking out for her. “These guys are bad news, you said that yourself. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know!” Mabel ran her hands across her face and through her hair. “But I can’t just do nothing! Please,” she begged, looking up into Charlie’s eyes.

Charlie held her gaze, his eyes searching for something before they widened slightly as if realizing something. Charlie nodded but there was a small frown on his face. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.”

Charlie called Tommy from the car. Mabel didn’t waste time as she sped her way down to the docks. She caught Charlie out of the side of her eye as he argued back and forth with Tommy until he tossed his phone onto the dashboard when the conversation was over. Charlie had his elbow resting on the door and his head propped up in his hand. He looked focused, his eyes never leaving the road.

“Tommy letting us take the boat?” Mabel asked, she quickly flicked a glance at Charlie, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah,” Charlie sighed. “He’s already there, we’ll be ready to go as soon as we arrive.”

Mabel nodded, opting not to say anything else. Charlie called Tommy and he was willing to come with her and help try and save you. Charlie’s mood was close to how it was after they broke up. Mabel couldn’t be sure what Charlie saw when he looked into her eyes but whatever it was it seemed that he finally accepted that they were truly over and that she was ready to start moving on.

Mabel whipped into a parking spot, slamming on the breaks as soon as she could. She didn’t even look to see if she was between the lines before she jumped out of the car and ran down the ramp to the docks. She heard Charlie right behind her as they rushed to the boat, seeing Tommy on the deck, Nunes, and Costa beside him. Costa grabbed her hand, helping her onto the boat.

“This is stupid,” Tommy said, locking eyes with Charlie.

Charlie shrugged. “We can’t just do nothing.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hat before flicking a glance at Mabel then back at his brother. “You better have a plan,” he shook his head.

“Figured we’d gameplan on the way.”

Tommy grumbled something incoherent before making his way to the helm. Charlie tapped Mabel’s arm, nodding at her to follow along. Mabel joined Charlie, Costa, and Nunes around a table behind Tommy and began planning out exactly how they thought they could save you while also taking on a bunch of drug dealers.

Tommy put in the location they found originally and used weather patterns to determine where and how far you drifted from, giving them a solid area to start heading towards. With Tommy at the wheel, they began making their way to your location, Mabel was just hoping she had moved fast enough and that you wouldn’t already be on the ocean floor by the time they got to you.

everyone but her pt.38

Summary: You invite everyone over for a dinner and get roped into going on a hunting trip with Yoko, set up by Enid and Divina, of course. It would be nice if something went as planned for once.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, injury, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of trauma, hunting (not graphic), murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Yoko would never admit it to anyone, but you were acting a bit odd, even for you.

She didn’t know what you had been doing the other weekend when you disappeared with Wednesday. Not that she cared all that much, you and Wednesday were both odd enough that the disappearance itself was… pretty on point, actually. Sure, she had checked with Enid to make sure it was normal, but when both Enid and Divina had given her a look that said “are you serious?” she gave in.

But after that, you had both acted a bit off. You weren’t quite as outgoing as usual; she had noticed it immediately after Nicky’s death, obviously, but you would go through swings and she thought you had been getting a bit better. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Instead of teasing her and everyone else, you seemed distant. Like you weren’t entirely present with everyone.

That didn’t even touch on the moments of panic you had when you thought no one would notice. Maybe most people didn’t; Yoko had no doubt that Wednesday noticed, obviously, but who knew about the others. All Yoko knew was that at the most random times, you would freeze. Just enough for her to notice. It only took a touch and some whispered words from Wednesday for you to come back to your senses, but she noticed.

Not that she was going to mention it to you. Yoko truly considered you her best friend. There were few people she cared about more than you, and that consisted of Enid and Divina. She loved you, and seeing you so distraught over something she didn’t know about was devastating. It made her dead heart ache.

Which was precisely why she took you up on your offer of a “family” dinner with everyone.

“Please hurry,” you said when Yoko, Enid, and Divina knocked on the apartment door. “Wednesday is trying to get Bianca to fence with her in the living room.”

“I’m on it,” Enid sighed before walking past you.

“The Ambiguously Gay Duo?” Divina asked.

“They snuck some weird looking bag into my room,” you mumbled.

“I’ll make sure they don’t have shrooms,” Divina said. “Again.”

“Thank you,” you said when she walked past you, leaving you with Yoko.

Who could very well see the bags under your eyes.

“You okay?” She asked as she stepped into the apartment, keeping her eyes on you as you closed the door. “You looked tired.”

“I’m not sleeping well,” you said. “Nightmares.”

Yoko… didn’t really know what to tell you. Honestly, she had expected you to lie to her like you had been for the past few months. You would usually tell her you were fine, or tired from work, and she would press a meagre two times before accepting that you wouldn’t tell her the truth. But this… was unexpected.

“What kind?” She dared to ask.

Your hand froze on the doorknob. “Later?” You turned to look at her with those big eyes that you used to have when you were far younger. “Please?”

“Of course,” Yoko said with the best smile she could muster.

She looked around to make sure Wednesday wasn’t coming around - she didn’t want to cause her to ask questions - before pulling you into a hug. You stiffened underneath her for only a moment. Her head was tucked into your neck - you still smelled lovely - when you relaxed, wrapping your arms around her waist and holding her just as tight.

It was no surprise that Wednesday wasn’t as physical in her affections, and everyone very much respected it. Sometimes Yoko wished she would show you a little more physical affection, but it wasn’t her place. But you were acting like you hadn’t even been touched in weeks. You clung to her as if she would disappear the moment you let go.

Underneath her fingers, she could feel the raised scars littering your back. She had never gotten to see Nicky’s scars from the accident, but she had seen yours. Rough, large, scattered scars that would always serve as a reminder of the worst day of your life. It had been a while since she had remembered them; it didn’t evade her that you had to live with them.

“Come on,” you said, finally pulling away. Reluctantly, Yoko noticed. “I don’t want dinner to burn.”

“Wednesday doesn’t help?” Yoko asked, leaving a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t talk so loud,” you said quickly, waving your hands to shush her and peeking around the corner. “She might hear you.”

“Pussy,” Yoko said as she did her best to hide her smile.

Your hand rested on the small of her back while you guided her down the short hall to the rest of the apartment. “She helps, she just doesn’t need to.”

Yoko cackled. “She’s going to kill you.”

“She can’t cook, Yoke,” you whisper-shouted before you entered the kitchen. “It’s horrifying.”

“Like I said,” Yoko whispered back. “Pussy.”

Everyone was in the living room; she was even surprised to see Joel and Ash as well. Yes, she knew Ash was with Bianca, but she also knew you considered her a mortal enemy. She supposed she owed Divina $25. Enid didn’t get anything, she had figured you would keep at least Joel out of the apartment.

Yoko was so proud of you. That was growth.

Wednesday was still facing Bianca, who was similarly holding a foil at the ready. Enid was off to the side with her head in her hands; a clear sign of failure. Not that anyone was truly surprised, if Wednesday had done what Yoko thought she had, then there would be no way Bianca would turn down the challenge. Which, judging by the look on Bianca’s face, was exactly what had happened.

Everyone watched in awe as Wednesday and Bianca started their duel. Without suits. Or helmets. Yoko turned her head to see you still finishing up dinner. Thankfully. She could only imagine the fear on your face if you saw what was currently happening in your living room. How you didn’t hear it was beyond her.

On the other hand, Joel was watching Wednesday with the most impressed look Yoko had ever personally seen on someone’s face. That was another reason it was good you were too busy cooking. The poor boy would be dead before he had a chance to realise what he did wrong.

“Done!” You said as you turned around triumphantly.

And literally shrieked when you saw Bianca best Wednesday with a point to the chest.

“One day, Addams,” Bianca said with a smile.

“Your skills are still impressive,” Wednesday said in reply. “Though I believe I could do without you “humbling me,” as Y/N says.”

“That was amazing,” Joel said, eyes wide with wonder.

“Great job, babe,” Ash said with a smile and a quick kiss pressed to Bianca’s cheek.

Yoko swore the siren blushed.

“Crisis averted,” Divina said as she literally pulled Kent and Ajax into the room by their shirt collars. “It wasn’t shrooms.”

“Can we please sit down to eat?” You asked, your voice tense and high pitched.

It didn’t take long for everyone to mumble their agreement before sitting down in one of the many seats around the table. Yoko didn’t think she had ever seen it in the apartment before. No doubt it was new; Wednesday would never willingly agree to host a dinner party.

The apartment filled with talk and laughter as everyone started eating. Conversation came easily for everyone, whether it was about gossip from Nevermore, or something to do with classes, or complaining about family. Even Wednesday chimed in, offering her opinions and thoughts. Which, to everyone’s surprise, were almost… kind. She had definitely been spending too much time with you.

“How’s Thing?” Enid asked. “He hasn’t texted me in a while.”

“His phone was confiscated,” Wednesday answered simply. “An intervention was necessary.”

“He wouldn’t quit playing Among Us,” you explained.

“I was wondering why he disappeared,” Kent mumbled.

“He was a cheater anyway,” Ajax said just as quietly.

Everyone resumed their conversations, and Yoko didn’t bother keeping track of what everyone was saying. It was too difficult, with 10 people chiming in whenever they felt necessary. Instead, Yoko kept her eye on you. You and the way your smile fell slowly until it was little more than a grimace.

With her leg pressed up against yours, she felt you start to bounce rapidly. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your nostrils flared with short, quick breaths. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do; she knew your panic attacks, but it had been a while since she had done anything to help. Was it even her place? Or was it Wednesday’s? Surely it had to be someone, right?

It was. She did her best not to stare, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Wednesday lean closer. Not enough for everyone else to notice, especially if they weren’t paying attention. But she was close enough, and her lips were moving near your ear, and slowly your leg stopped bouncing and your eyes opened.

Yoko had vastly underestimated Wednesday. She was aware that the goth girl was good for you, there was no good in even trying to deny it. But she hadn’t thought Wednesday would ever truly learn what you needed or what was best for you. Not for lack of trying, but it wasn’t an easy thing to do. You had problems, you had trauma, you had so many things that worried and concerned you. As much as she loved you, she knew you weren’t easy to be with romantically.

And yet, there Wednesday was, easing you down from a panic attack and proving her wrong yet again. She had never been more pleasantly surprised to be wrong.

“Yoko, you’re hunting in a few nights, aren’t you?” Divina asked, pulling Yoko out of her thoughts.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Why?”

“I’ll go with you,” you said as if you hadn’t just been pulled from a panic attack.

“You sure?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I can get Alex and Grandpa a bit more too, they’re always running low.”

Yoko thought about it for a moment. It wouldn’t really be the worst thing in the world. She hadn’t hunted with you in years, probably since before the accident. You had always been rather good at it, probably better than she ever had been. Which was insulting, but she would keep her mouth shut.

“I guess it can’t hurt,” Yoko finally said.

Enid gave Divina a high-five. “Yay.”

She started to think her girlfriends had staged this hunting trip, the sneaky little bitches. Oh how she loved them.

—---

The night was perfect for a hunt, Yoko thought. She followed behind you as you stalked through the densely packed forest. The nearly full moon shone beautifully through the trees, illuminating the space around you. There was still plenty of time before the sun was supposed to rise, which left ample time to find what you had both ventured to find.

In a hilarious twist, you had borrowed Yoko’s sunglasses to keep the animals from spotting your bioluminescent eyes.

“How many tags do you have?” You asked; your voice would have been inaudible to anyone without heightened senses.

“Six left,” Yoko answered with the same volume. “Should last until the next replenish date.”

“Mind if I snag one for Alex?” You asked. “I’ll give you one of his after I visit them next.”

Yoko mumbled an agreement. Your love towards your siblings had grown more harsh since Nicky. Not in terms of you being mean to them, hell no. She was convinced you would die if you were ever mean to them. But you didn’t go about things as sweetly as you used to. Now it was “I have to do this” instead of “I want to do this.” Your love was cold, but it was still love, and you made sure everyone knew it.

The forest was quiet as you both continued to walk. Each step was taken with careful consideration, leaving as little space for detection as possible. Yoko absolutely loved hunting with you. Thanks to your time with your Grandpa, you knew how important silence was. And after plenty of practice, you were the perfect partner to go with.

“To the left,” you said, gesturing your head in the proper direction. “Yes or no?”

She looked where you were pointing to see a single buck standing in a small clearing. He wasn’t the biggest she had ever seen, but he wasn’t weak by any means. His antlers were fairly large, a bit unsymmetrical, but they would have taken a decent amount of blood to grow.

But was he really worth a tag?

“Keep going,” Yoko said after a bit of consideration. “We can find better.”

“Then let’s go,” you said.

You hoisted the gun higher up on your shoulder and kept trudging through the forest ahead. If it hadn’t been for the glasses, you would have looked like a professional. For the first time in a while - at least to Yoko’s knowledge - your wings were out and free. As free as the birds that nested above your heads.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked, not even bothering to turn around.

“Sure,” Yoko said. Your voices were still so quiet they didn’t even echo.

“Did Nicky ever tell you anything about Casey and Devan?” You asked.

Yoko nearly stumbled. “No,” she said, “at least not that I can remember.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” You asked. There was a lilt in your tone that she couldn’t quite pick up on.

“I wasn’t his keeper,” she said with a shrug that you didn’t see. “He didn’t tell me anything about them.”

“Isn’t that weird though?” You kept going. “Like, they’re supposedly his loves and no one knew about them?” The smallest twig broke under your feet. “Not you, not me, not anyone, as far as I can tell.”

Yoko kept quiet, pondering the train of thought you were verbalising. She supposed it was a bit unusual. Though, there hadn’t really been any occasion to talk about significant others during school. Nicky had always been more focused on you and trying to keep you from remembering the neglect. That was a full time job in and of itself. If he kept one little secret to himself, one source of happiness, she supposed she couldn’t blame him.

“To the right,” you said, pulling Yoko from her thoughts. “Yes?”

She barely had to see the oversized buck before mumbling a rushed “yes.” You nodded once before lifting the rifle that she hadn’t seen you pull from your shoulder. It was humiliating, but she turned her head before you pulled the trigger. She may have needed blood, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the process.

“Perfect,” you said a little louder. Almost enough for a normal person to hear. “Excellent tag usage, Yoke.”

“Just get it over with,” she said. She refused to turn around until you were done.

“Pussy,” you said with a teasing tone.

She liked hearing you tease again, even if it was at her expense. You had gotten far too serious, and not in a good way. Yoko couldn’t even blame Wednesday for it, because she had even started to lighten up! It wasn’t your fault, anyone would have broken under all the stress of your life, but she didn’t like it.

“Done,” you said, popping up beside her. Thankfully, she kept her cool.

“Then let’s go,” she said, “I want to get this over with.”

“You make such a bad vampire,” you teased. You weren’t sneaking the way you had been earlier; it must have been a good buck. “How did you survive before me?”

“Easily,” she answered instantly.

You laughed lightly but kept walking. “We may as well head back,” you said.

“Why?” Yoko asked. “We only used one tag.”

“Anything nearby would’ve run at the sound,” you said. You turned around with a sheepish smile. “My bad.”

“It still works,” she said as she patted you on the shoulder and gave you a smile. “Let’s go.”

With no need to be quiet any longer, you both started walking normally. Which was wonderful, because sneaking was hard on the knees. She may not have been as old as most, but that didn’t mean her knees didn’t hurt. It was just part of growing up, everyone knew that-

-something creaked behind you both.

“Hang on,” Yoko said, reaching out to grab your shoulder. You nearly fell backwards as your feet kept moving but your top half stayed still.

“What?” You asked.

“Did you hear that?” She asked, her voice lowering again so only you could hear.

You straightened up and looked around, even daring to take your glasses off. The glow of your eyes would surely scare someone away; at least it usually did. Her ears were stilled trained for any sort of sound that would indicate something coming close. 

Or someone, though she didn’t think that was possible. You were both deep in the woods, how was someone supposed to trek around and find you both? It was still deep in winter, and though there wasn’t snow on the ground, no one would even want to be out if they didn’t have to. Hunting season was over, holidays were over, and everyone should be nice and cosy in their beds at home.

Something loud thumped to the ground.

Again.

Again.

“Yoko?” You said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah?” She answered. Her eyes zoned in on your paling knuckles as you tightened your grip on the rifle.

Another thud.

“Run.”

Yoko barely watched you lift the rifle before she turned around and started running. Oh Wednesday was going to kill her! A shot rang out behind her, and her hands flew to her head. Oh, Wednesday wasn’t going to kill her because something else was!

A soul shaking sound echoed around her.

Something hit Yoko’s back.

Everything had gone dark before she even hit the ground.

—---

Yoko’s eyes burned.

She tried to sit up and stopped. Scratch that; everything hurt. Her back felt like Enid had scratched the hell out of it, leaving it sore and stiff and throbbing. A spot above her eye burned nearly as bad as her eyes, which were still squeezed shut. And none of that even included the killer migraine that felt like someone was trying to claw their way out of her skull.

She was never going hunting with you ever again.

The sun was out; that much was clear. Without her glasses she wouldn’t be able to see hardly anything. Her hand lifted to shield her eyes, and though it still burned when she looked around, at least she could see. That was a start. A mediocre one, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Y/N?” She called out, her voice raspy and painful. It was like she was looking through a haze. If you were anywhere near, she couldn’t see you.

A groan came from her right, and she didn’t even hesitate. She took off in that direction, taking long blinks to ease the burning as much as possible. Her back burned with each step, and even her knee started to throb, but she wouldn’t stop. If there was any chance you were nearby, she needed to find you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, and Yoko finally got close enough to see you leaning against a tree, wings outstretched and… brown?

“Are you okay?” Yoko asked. She kneeled down beside you to check you over. Her glasses were still hanging from your shirt; she carefully took them back and put them on. It was like an instant flood of relief.

“I feel like I got run over by a truck,” you grumbled; you still hadn’t opened your eyes. “And I’ve got the worst hangover in the world.”

“Not a hangover,” she said. Thankfully, aside from some missing feathers and a swollen wrist, you seemed to be okay. “But you might be right about the truck.”

“Do I still have the blood?” You asked.

Yoko froze. “Your blood?”

“No, dumbass,” you said, finally opening your eyes. Slowly, but still. “The blood.” She didn’t answer. “The one thing we came here for.”

“Are you serious?” She asked as she stood up, leaving you leaning against the tree. “Wednesday is going to kill me and you’re worried about blood?”

You groaned as you pushed yourself up to your feet. “Yes, Yoko, because if I’m going to get hurt then at least it’s worth it.”

“I hate you so much,” she mumbled to herself.

You stretched your arms high above your head, and Yoko could hear the pops coming from your joints. The noise you let out was ungodly, and she wondered if Wednesday had heard it yet. Usually you kept your stretching noise reserved for private, but you did love Wednesday so. Maybe.

You two were so disgusting.

“We need to get back,” she said. “I can’t have Wednesday kill me for getting you hurt and kidnapping you.”

“So you admit this is your fault?” You asked.

She dignified your question with a slap to your stomach. You doubled over and mumbled a few “fucks,” but then stood back up as if nothing had happened. Good for you.

“Let’s go, bloodsucker,” you said. “If Wednesday will kill you, Enid and Divina will bury me.”

“Lead the way, bird brain,” Yoko shot back, entirely fed up with you already.

She wasn’t going to comment on the fact that you grabbed her hand and pulled her along with you. Especially when it meant she didn’t have to walk alone through the woods, going in a direction that might not guarantee getting back to the apartments.

And maybe it helped that she could use you to help ease the limp from her ever-increasing aching knee.

“What’s your problem?” You asked after a few minutes of walking.

“My knee hurts,” Yoko admitted.

She really shouldn’t have.

“Poor baby,” you teased, “want me to carry you?”

“Touch me and I’ll bite your head off,” she answered instantly.

You hesitated. “That’s kinda kinky.”

“Oh my god shut up,” Yoko sighed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Wednesday.”

“Well she is my girlfriend-”

“-Just get us out of here,” she cut you off, wanting nothing more than to just get back, take a shower, and take a long, long nap.

You were both still walking when the sun finally finished peaking above the horizon. That meant the air would start to heat up and Yoko could finally ease some warmth into her stiff fingers. She may not have had blood circulation but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the outside cold-

“-Holy shit.”

Yoko ran into your back - or rather, your wings - and sputtered a few feathers out of her mouth. She nearly scolded you, asking you why you were stopping when you were (hopefully) so close to civilization, but she followed your line of sight and froze. And not from the winter air.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered.

A mangled body was leaning against a tree, similar to how you had been when Yoko had found you. The only difference was, while your wings had been outstretched, his arms were stretched in the same way. His clothes were tattered and hanging off a decomposing frame.

And he was missing a foot.

“That’s Shaun,” you said softly.

Oh fuck.

“We should call the cops,” Yoko said when you either wouldn’t or couldn’t move.

“We can’t,” you said with a shake of your head.

“It’s a dead body, yes we-”

“-They already think I did it,” you interrupted her, finally turning your body to face her. There was a look on your face that she hadn’t seen since Nicky. A look of pure fear.

“Something happened to us too,” Yoko said, “maybe that’s reason enough to believe we’re innocent.”

You shook your head slowly and looked back at the body. “I can’t go to jail again,” you whispered.

Yoko stood there, looking between you and the body that she was starting to smell. She didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, the police needed to know there was a body in the woods. Especially one they had been looking for for a few weeks at that point.

On the other hand, she couldn’t bear to see you arrested again. Especially for something she knew you hadn’t ever done before.

“Did he have any family?” She finally asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well,” she sighed, “then I guess it’ll die out.” You blinked, long and hard. “We can come back and bury him later.”

You still didn’t move, but at least you opened your eyes. If Yoko was to put a word to it, she would almost say you were the true definition of catatonic. She squeezed your hand once before pulling you with her, leading you in the (hopefully) right direction. The best thing to do would be to get home. Everything else could be discussed later.

There was nothing she could say to bring you out of your thoughts. You weren’t in the middle of a panic attack, you were just… gone. It was evident in the glazed over look in your eyes and the way your hand rested limply in hers. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be the subject of just near every nearby murder for the past two years.

Maybe she just needed to get you back to Wednesday; she would know what to do. The past four years had done nothing but prove her loyalty to you, even though Yoko had been worried about it at the start. But time and time again, she had been proven wrong, and she knew the Addams girl - and her family - would take good care of you if given the chance-

-Yoko froze.

She felt you bump into her back, almost the same situation as when you found your therapist. Except this time, you still gasped first. Pools of mostly-frozen blood littered the ground, looking like crystals in the morning sun. Following the trail, she felt her dead heart beat painfully in her chest.

“That’s Joel,” she said.

“And Ash,” you continued, dropping her hand instantly and rushing forward.

She was quick behind you, going to check on Joel while you practically fell to your knees next to Ash. Their blood smelled slightly bitter, indicating they had been out there for at least a few hours. The only good sign was she could still hear their pulses. Faintly, but they were present.

“Call 911,” Yoko said.

Your hands were still hovering over Ash, attempting to find the best place to put pressure. You finally settled on a gash on her shoulder, and you pressed down as hard as possible. The smallest whine fell from Ash’s dried and cracked lips. Another good sign, in a way.

But you still weren’t listening.

“Y/N.”

Your head snapped up. There were tears in your eyes and your bottom lip shook.

“I’m calling 911.”

You looked at her hard before looking back down at Ash.

You didn’t stop her from pulling out her phone and dialling the number.

everyone but her pt.39

Summary: Everything is starting to play tricks on you, and all you really want is for Wednesday to swoop in and fix it. Even if only for a moment.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, injury, shock, grief, suggestive themes at the end Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Ringing echoed in your ears. It felt so deep that you could almost feel your teeth vibrating. At least it was a feeling. Something other than the unusual mix of numbness and the heavy weight that had settled in your stomach. The ringing was some sort of distraction from the stench of the hospital.

Underneath the dried blood, your skin itched. A nice contrast to the way it usually felt like it was crawling. Your dirty nails peeled the dried flakes of blood off your skin subconsciously. Piece by piece, falling to the floor like rusted snow. Beneath your hands, resting on the ground, a tiny horrific winter wonderland was being born.

You couldn’t see it. The blackness had crept upon your vision, leaving you with something that was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope. A small pinprick of the spot in front of you, distorted and distant and looking like nothing more than a speck of light in the pitch black.

The doctors were saying something to Yoko. You wouldn’t know; you hadn’t been able to hear anything aside from the ringing for… you didn’t know how long. Time moved both too fast and too slow. Existence seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace, and yet it felt like you were ageing with each shaky, pained breath you took.

That grounding hand on your knee disappeared, leaving you with nothing but the small speck of light and the itching of your skin. The ringing started to dull, slowly becoming overwhelmed by muffled voices. It started off low, almost inaudible, growing into what could almost be recognised. Something familiar.

Something angry.

You blinked hard once, twice, squeezing your eyes shut the third time. When you opened them, the tunnel vision started to pull back, revealing two tiles on the floor, then four, then letting them take over your vision. There was something powdery beneath your hands. Had it come from you?

Two sets of shoes stepped into your still-growing field of view. A pair of boots and a pair of heels. Both black. Neutral. Safe. It was like Wednesday. Black was safe. Your eyes slowly raked up from the shoes to the legs, to the waist, then finally up to the face.

Bianca. She was safe too.

“What did you do?” She asked, demanded, her voice ringing crystal clear in your ears.

Maybe she wasn’t safe.

She’s accusing you, the voice said, almost sounding more clear than Bianca. You killed her girlfriend. You blinked hard again. You’re a killer. No, that couldn’t be right. Right? No, of course not. No one could have died. Why would they have died?

Everyone around you dies.

“We didn’t do anything,” Yoko said. In contrast to Bianca’s, her voice sounded far weaker, almost uncertain. That couldn’t be right. “You should be happy we even found them at all.”

“Are you here for-”

“-Yes,” Bianca said quickly, interrupting whom you assumed to be the doctor.

You tried to see who they were, to finally get a firm grip on what was going on, but it was like you were moving through molasses. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t move fast enough. It was like a bad dream, one of the ones where you tried to save someone but you just couldn’t get your feet to run faster.

“You can all come with me,” the doctor said by the time you finally managed to look at her. “We put them both in the same room.”

Bianca didn’t wait for either of you to follow. You didn’t blame her. A pale hand reached across your gaze before resting on your arm. It slowly slid down until it cupped your elbow and gently pulled upward. Oh. Oh, of course, you should follow. The creak of your knee was horrifically loud in your ears. You wondered if the entire hospital had heard it.

Yoko’s hand never strayed from your elbow as she helped you down the hallway to the room. Did she think you were incapable of getting there on your own? She may have been older, but you weren’t a child. Even as you tripped over the floor when the toe of your shoe scuffed the tile.

You’re incompetent, the voice chided. A feeble killer.

“They’re stable,” you heard the doctor saying when you walked through the doorway. “They should wake up soon.”

She politely pushed past you then, leaving you alone in the room with Yoko and Bianca. And two corpses. No, they were alive, the doctor had said so. Stable even. As long as you didn’t have to look at them, they would be okay. Your mind couldn’t play tricks on you if you didn’t look.

“What happened?” Bianca asked after a few moments of tense silence. “I need the truth.”

“I already told you,” Yoko started with a sigh.

Her hand vanished from your elbow while she rambled on, talking about what had happened out in the forest. At least you assumed that’s what she was saying; each word from her mouth was melding with the next, leaving nothing but a constant stream of noise.

Look at them.

You didn’t want to.

Look at what you caused.

Your eyes raised from the hole you were attempting to stare into the ground. All of your insides were screaming, telling you something was wrong. The usually pristine white bed sheets were soaked, dripping steaming blood onto the sterile tile below. Yoko’s voice was drowned out by a flatline that grew louder with each heartbeat from your own chest. Bandages were soaked through and they were looking at you with ghastly white eyes. You wanted to scream.

But you couldn’t move.

It was like that story Wednesday had read to you at Nevermore; I have no mouth, and I must scream.

It burned in your throat. Like swallowing hot coals, one by one, devouring them before they devoured you in return. You weren’t sure what it felt like to drink fire, but this must have been close. There wasn’t even any saliva left in your mouth to ease the scorching heat threatening to bubble past your lips.

If only you could open your mouth.

A cold hand slipped into your own from behind. Small, seemingly fragile even though you knew the strength it held underneath the skin. All it took was a squeeze of her hand in yours, and the acid rising up your throat started to recoil, slithering back to whatever crevice it had crawled out of.

It wasn’t just the feel of her hand that tamed your nerves; it was her very presence. The moment you felt her beside you, the pools of blood on the tiles started to absorb into the tiles. Each drip from the bed sheets slowed down until they stopped completely. And each set of nightmarishly white eyes closed until you were standing in a normal hospital room again.

You had always been in a normal hospital room.

Voices - muffled and high pitched - came from behind you before quickly ending up in front of you. The air in the room grew lighter, and you inhaled slowly through your nose. Your lungs then exhaled in relief, the burning ache easing into nothingness. There were plenty of people in the room, you could tell, but you just looked back down at the floor.

Wednesday’s black platforms made for a wonderful focus point.

“Why were you in the woods?”

Bianca’s voice was grating against your ears. It didn’t sound any different than normal, but something about it made your skin crawl. Someone cleared their voice. It was a wet sound; too fleshy for your liking.

“You asked me to go with you.” That was Ash. She didn’t sound dead.

“What do you mean?” Bianca asked, and you finally looked back up. Everyone had gone dead silent. “I was in my apartment.”

“No you weren’t,” Ash said. Her voice sounded raw as she cleared her throat again. “You asked me to go on a morning walk with you.”

“When have I ever wanted a morning walk?” Bianca asked not unkindly as she gently took Ash’s hand in hers.. “Mornings are the worst part of the day.”

Everyone turned their heads slowly to look at you. Why would they be looking at you? You weren’t Bianca; you didn’t even look the same. Besides, you had an alibi, and everyone tended to believe Yoko about things. She was your best friend, but she had made it clear over all the years that she would call you out if need be.

“What about you?” Ajax asked the other bed; Joel’s eyes were slowly opening too. “Who did you follow?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a similarly croaky voice to Ash. “I don’t remember anything after going to sleep.”

Wednesday squeezed your hand again, holding on tightly for a few seconds longer than usual. It was grounding. The longer you stared at Ash and Joel, the more their bandages started to bleed. But each time Wednesday moved, or touched you, or spoke, the bleeding would dissipate. Slowly. Surely.

“Have the police come in yet?” Divina asked. “They were still outside when we got here.”

“Not yet,” Yoko said. She looked at you; you weren’t paying any attention. “But I’m sure we’ll have to.”

“Get lawyers,” Kent said. “No one’s pressing charges, but you can’t trust cops.”

Everyone mumbled in agreement.

“My family will assist with the lawyers,” Wednesday said. “We maintain a list of all attorneys we currently have on retainer.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Bianca grumbled. You didn’t hear her say she didn’t want the list, though.

“Moreno is on his way,” Wednesday said directly to you.

You knew she was speaking to you because her voice lost its edge. The purposefully professional tone she kept around everyone else - though it slipped more and more with each day - didn’t exist with you. Instead she was soft, almost even kind; something she kept reserved just for you. Only Uncle Fester received the same treatment, and that was something you were okay with.

Something sealed your lips together from the inside. You wanted to say something to her; scream out that you were scared. There was too much red, things didn’t seem real. But you couldn’t even tell her a simple “thank you.” Instead, you just nodded once and blinked slowly. You hoped she understood.

—---

You could feel the exhaustion settling in your bones as Moreno walked out of the interrogation room with you. His hand rested between the connecting point of your wings. Fingers scratched between the joints and kept you grounded. Something usually only Wednesday did, but it worked just about the same, you supposed.

Wednesday was sitting in one of the chairs in the lobby of the police station. The tunnel vision from earlier returned; you could only see her. Her, in your worn out hoodie that added just a splash of colour to her usually black repertoire. It looked almost unnatural, yet not unpleasant.

She looked tired.

It’s your fault if she is.

Moreno stopped you in front of Wednesday and started saying something to her. You couldn’t decipher any of it. The only thing you could hear was the difference in who was talking. It seemed they were having a conversation. Well, that was typically what happened when people talked, so of course they were.

Talking about you.

Yes, you could have guessed that on your own. Maybe they were talking about how you were going to jail again. Surely that couldn’t be too far out of the realm of possibility. Maybe it was for the best. Clearly nothing was going right, maybe it would be safer if you were in prison.

Cold hands pressed against your cheeks and tilted your head down. You blinked hard once, forcing your vision to come back. You couldn’t even be concerned about how you had gotten back into your apartment. It was so far detached from the numbness of the situation.

You just didn’t care.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly. It was too soft for Wednesday Addams. A shiver went down your spine.

Her hands lingered on your face for a moment, nails scratching against your jaw. Comfort. Your eyes fell shut as you let yourself feel. The sharpness of her nails against your skin. The shocking cold of her hands in comparison to the warmth of her body pressed against yours. You felt… love.

“In any other situation,” Wednesday said as her arms slid down your neck and arms, “the blood would look lovely on you.”

It should have upset you. The blood belonged to your friend and you should have been upset. You were soaked in it, to the point where your clothes were stiff and your skin itched. But it didn’t. Instead, you felt a warmth in your chest, slowly pushing out the cold that had been tightly nestled into your ribcage.

Wednesday’s hands slipped into yours and pulled. It didn’t take an ounce of brain power to follow wherever she was taking you. The hardwood of the floor turned into tile, and you looked around at the bathroom. A simple room; you would have expected nothing less from her. A clawfoot tub against the wall and a shower across the room.

She let go of your hands to start filling up the tub.

You knew the steps to getting into the bath. Take your shoes off, remove your clothes, and step in. Simple steps, something children could do on their own. Yet you couldn’t get your body to do it. It was too busy staying locked up, refusing to move. Your body felt heavy, like you were trapped underneath rubble and couldn’t get out.

Air caught in your throat when cold hands slid underneath your shirt. Flinching because Wednesday had touched you was humiliating. You hadn’t done it in… you didn’t know how long. She wouldn’t think you were scared of her, would she? Oh god, what if she did? You didn’t think you could handle that.

She’ll think you’re a coward.

“May I?” She asked, eyes uncharacteristically wide.

The words still wouldn’t form on your tongue, so you settled for nodding instead. She gave you that little smile that most wouldn’t even notice before gently taking the hem of your shirt and helping you out of it. Most of the blood was dried, but you still felt a few sticky parts catching your skin. The scalding water filling the tub had already left the bathroom full of steam, so it wasn’t cold when you were bare to the world.

You still shivered anyway.

She held you steady as she helped you out of your stiff jeans. You didn’t know when you had taken your shoes off. Wednesday’s hands kept you steady. She was far sturdier than she seemed. The water was far too hot, but you wouldn’t say anything. If Wednesday Addams had one guilty pleasure, it was a painfully hot bath.

“Wait,” you said when Wednesday started removing the jacket. She froze and looked at you, waiting. “I can help.”

“I’ll only be a moment,” she said. You simply nodded and turned back to face the water.

It would have made anyone laugh if they saw the tub in Wednesday’s apartment. Hot water, fresh black roses on a small table nearby, and a relaxing bubble bath that created a wonderful aroma in the air. Rather soft for what people typically associated with the Addamses. Oh how wrong they were.

The water parted as Wednesday stepped in, quickly straddling your lap. There was nothing scandalous in the position; it was one of comfort, nothing more. It often led to the perfect position for her to help you wash your hair, which was enough of a battle on a normal day. The second upside was your wings could rest on the outside of the tub, staying perfectly dry.

“Stay still,” she demanded, though it held no venom. Her words never held the same sting as they used to. Sometimes you missed it.

Not all the time, obviously. But sometimes.

While one of her hands gripped your chin, the other grabbed a wet washcloth and started washing the grime off your body. It’s blood, the voice made sure to remind you. Your friend’s blood. You bit your tongue to distract yourself from that very fact.

It didn’t distract from the knowledge that you were literally bathing in Ash’s blood.

“Would you find any sort of comfort in talking?” Wednesday asked. “It doesn’t have to be about what happened.” You exhaled slowly through your nose. “It can be about any topic you wish.”

Your thumb rubbed against her hip bone. Did you want to talk about anything? Though you had stayed silent for the majority of the day, you worried that if you opened your mouth, nothing would come out. Or worse, you would fall into uncontrollable sobbing and wouldn’t be able to stop.

But Wednesday was offering, and she so rarely offered.

“Am I bad luck?” You asked.

The washcloth stopped moving for only a moment.

“No,” she said simply. “You are not bad luck.” Her thumb rubbed underneath your eyes. “You simply have a penchant for getting yourself into complicated situations.”

You choked on a laugh. “Did Wednesday Addams just try to sugarcoat my apparent proclivity for trouble?”

“I would never stoop to such a level,” she quickly attempted to defend herself. “I’m simply saying perhaps it’s not all you.”

“Maybe not,” you mumbled. A smile slowly formed on your lips. “Maybe it’s Yoko.”

“What?” She asked.

“Yoko.” You weren’t necessarily looking at Wednesday, but you felt her hands rubbing the product into your hair. “She’s always with me when I get in trouble.”

Wednesday hummed in reply. “You may have a point.” The corner of her mouth tilted upward. “She is a rather unlucky vampire.”

“Exactly,” you said as you leaned your head down so she could better reach the back of it. “I would bet money she’s the reason I’m always in trouble.”

Wednesday smiled. It was her equivalent of a laugh, and you adored it. Even though you would kill to hear her actual, verbal laugh, you had become obsessed with her smile. There was nothing more beautiful, more perfect. The sight alone made your heart skip a beat in the best way.

You wanted to see it for the rest of your life.

That will never happen, the voice taunted. It sounded deeper. Sinister. She will abandon you once she learns how dangerous you are to those you love.

After what had just happened… you couldn’t disagree.

“You’re thinking rather loudly,” she said. You hadn’t noticed she had finished with your hair. “Would you care to share those thoughts?”

No. No, you didn’t want her to know about the voice in your head and how it was right. You hurt those who loved you. Everyone that had ever felt any sort of affection for you had gotten hurt. Fuck, Nicky had gotten killed. How could you explain that to anyone without sounding like either a jinx or a superstitious lunatic?

You couldn’t let her know.

“Do you think Ash really saw Bianca?” You asked instead, doing your best to change the topic before Wednesday caught on to your original train of thought. “Or, I mean, do you think she thought she saw B?”

Wednesday’s hands rested on your shoulders, and her thumbs rubbed against either side of your neck. They were perfectly poised over your jugular; a spot she was rather fond of. You didn’t know if it was because of the power it gave her, or if she simply liked knowing how vulnerable you willingly were around her. All you knew was you kind of liked it.

“If she did,” she started slowly, “then it must have been a hallucination.” Her eyes trailed off to the side. “Or perhaps a shapeshifter.”

“They said the wounds were from claws,” you said. “Shapeshifters usually don’t have claws.”

“Perhaps a werewolf then,” Wednesday continued. “Though it wasn’t a full moon.”

“Enid can grow claws whenever she wants,” you pointed out. “Full moon or not.”

“We should be putting this on my investigation board,” she said.

She didn’t give you any time to object or even fully comprehend what she had suggested. The next thing you knew, she was already getting out of the tub and drying off with her towel; a black, monogrammed towel you had managed to get her for her birthday. You tried not to stare, but she did look rather good with it wrapped around her.

“Are you coming?” She asked.

“Yes ma’am,” you said quickly.

Wednesday was already leaving the bathroom by the time you managed to start emptying out the tub. Of course she would leave you with cleanup. Once a spoiled rich kid, always a spoiled rich kid. The thought made you smile to yourself. Ah, but she was your spoiled rich kid, that was for sure.

By the time you had managed to get out, dry the floor, and dry yourself off, Wednesday had already gotten dressed and set up some sort of board in the living room. You peaked at it on the way to the bedroom. Shit, she had been serious, you didn’t have any time to waste. You hastily threw on a pair of old sweats and pulled the sweater over your head. It was a good thing she was too busy looking at her board to watch you squirm to pull your wings through the holes on the back.

“Did you have this at Nevermore?” You asked as you finally managed to look at the black board. It was littered with notecards and- were those autopsy photos?

“Yes,” she said without turning away from the board. You did your best not to notice that she was wearing another one of your sweaters. And no pants. “I’ve had it since I was nine.”

“Sounds normal enough,” you said with a subconscious nod to yourself. “What else would a nine year old girl want?”

“You said the injuries came from claws?” Wednesday asked.

Okay, no room for small talk, she was in serious mode. That certainly hadn’t happened in a while. It was a lovely look on her; all business. You had missed it. But when she still wouldn’t look at you, you pouted. You hadn’t missed that.

“That’s what the doctor said,” you confirmed. “At least, that’s what Yoko said the doctor said.”

Wednesday nodded once and put something up on the board with a thumb tack. “Plus the possibility of a hallucination.” She tacked a second piece of paper on the board. “What’s the connection?”

“Maybe Bianca’s just a secret psychopath,” you grumbled. This wasn’t turning out to be as fun as you thought.

“I had considered it,” she said, “but it’s rather unlikely.” She turned her body toward you slightly. “Weren’t you and Yoko attacked as well?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. Was it bad you had practically forgotten your own attack? “But we didn’t see anything, it just… happened.”

“What was the worst injury?” She asked, already reaching for a stack of cards. At least that’s what they looked like.

“Yoko got a cut on her head,” you said with a shrug. “And a few scratches on her back, I think.”

Wednesday turned quickly to look at you. “You’re alright?”

You tried not to smile. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

She nodded to herself and turned back to the board. It wasn’t like she hadn’t just seen you in the bath, though you supposed your body was a bit obscured by the bubbles she just had to have. But you knew better than to bring that up. She wasn’t too keen on being teased about her super secret love for bubble baths.

“Preliminary evidence leans toward a werewolf,” she said as she tacked up another card, this one looking like a picture. “Though obviously we’ll need to do some more research.”

“Research?” You asked, standing up straighter. The pop in your knee was not hurting; you were just getting old.

“Whatever it is has attacked my-” you raised your brow as she cleared her throat “-your friends.”

“Nuh uh,” you said as you grabbed her hand and pulled her around. “Joel is all yours, mi vida.” She exhaled through her nose. “And admit it, Ash is your friend too.”

She seemed to think for a moment. “It might also take the pressure off Enid for those fraternity murders last year.”

You sighed. Well, you hadn’t gotten her to admit they were her friends, but at least she hadn’t openly denied it. That was a start if you had ever seen one. Slow, baby steps with Wednesday.

Baby steps.

“Are we going to be doing this all night?” You asked.

Wednesday turned to look at you with a smile so big you almost, almost, saw her teeth.

“Can I at least get a kiss as motivation?” You asked with a sigh.

Her hands held your head in place as she stood up on her toes and kissed you. She tasted uncharacteristically sweet, as if she had been eating candies recently. Coupled with the warmth that had seeped into her skin thanks to the bath, it was almost like you were kissing a Wednesday from another dimension.

But you could still taste the bitter undertones of black coffee, and her fingers had already lost their warmth, and only your Wednesday let her fingers gently hook on either side of your jaw to give her complete control. Only your Wednesday knew just how to kiss you so you felt utterly wanted, loved, desired even.

“Motivated yet?” She asked, her lips still moving against yours.

You shook your head and bent down, wrapping your arms around the backs of her thighs and picking her up. She inhaled sharply, nearly taking your breath away. But that didn’t stop her from wrapping her legs around your waist and pulling your face closer. Not quite into a kiss, but just to hold you close.

“Just a little more,” you said softly.

You couldn’t tell her you couldn’t look at the board yet. That just the thought of finding out who had done something to Ash and Joel was enough to hammer away at what little sanity you had left. She loved mysteries, and you weren’t going to stop her from it.

But a little distraction from the world wouldn’t hurt. You could get your distraction, she could get a clear head, and you would both be all the better for it. After all, maybe if you were lucky, she would test out a few methods of, ahem, marking to see how possible they were.

For her research board, of course.

This is the money Marge. Reblog for good fortune

a novel life pt.3

Summary: You admit a few things to Sam, and finally she starts to feel a little more normal. Almost as if Ghostface was truly a thing of the past. Almost.

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: mentions of Scream-typical violence, mentions of trauma, light swearing Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

Oh you had messed up. You had messed up so badly. Why hadn’t you told Sam about Ghostface all those weeks ago? It was certainly far too late to tell her now, it had happened last year. Okay, slight exaggeration, you had simply passed into the New Year last week but still!

And now it was too late. You didn’t know why, it just was.

“Can you hand me that pen?” Sam asked.

You hummed and handed her what was on the table, still staring off into the distance. The television was on in your apartment and you couldn’t have told a single soul what was on. Perhaps it was the news. It was usually the news, you liked to keep up to date with everything.  If you had time, you would even split the screen between all news stations so you could compare all sides of information.

It was a miracle you had managed to keep Sam as long as you had.

“I think I’ll fuck J on the coffee table in an hour, is that okay?”

“Yes darling, whatever you want,” you said as your mind continued to race through possibilities.

You straightened up and quickly turned to look at her.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, her words finally forcing its way through the plethora of thoughts to the forefront of your mind. “No, it’s absolutely not okay.”

Sam smiled and placed the remote on the table. Which you supposed you had handed her instead of a pen. Because of course you had, why would you hand her the pen she had so clearly asked for? She placed a warm hand on your jaw and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“What’s going on in your head?” She asked far softer than she had any right to. “You’re usually not this distracted.”

You didn’t want to tell her. It felt like a betrayal of her trust that you hadn’t told her right after it had happened, how could you come back from it now? What excuse did you have other than you were afraid? Being afraid certainly wasn’t going to win you any favours, not with the Ghostface Murder family.

A mental note popped up to never, never call them that to their faces.

You should tell her.

No you shouldn’t.

Yes you should.

No.

Fine.

“I saw Ghostface the night I was buying your stockings,” you said rather unceremoniously.

Sam looked at you like you had grown a second head. Oh lord, had you grown a second head? Oh you bet you had, you absolute fool. Your mother had told you time and time again, there were consequences to lying. And now that you had finally come clean, you were facing the consequences. You hoped Sam still liked you with a second head.

“You saw Ghostface?” She asked in a whisper.

“I know I should have told you,” you said quickly, “but to tell you the truth, I was too afraid to tell anyone so instead I simply kept my mouth shut.”

Sam still said nothing. She almost looked afraid, which you could understand. You yourself were rather afraid as well. There had been no news of Ghostface running around New York again, but you knew for a fact he was out and about. And judging by the look on Sam’s face, she knew it was the truth as well.

Oh, this was precisely why you had kept it from her! You hadn’t intended to terrify her, oh no, quite the contrary. You wanted nothing more than for her to not fear the masked delinquent that habited wherever she existed. It was rather unfair when you started to think about it. No surprise at all that Tara was untrustful of… well, everyone.

“Promise me you won’t try to find him again,” Sam finally said, her voice far more vulnerable than it had any right to be.

“My dear,” you said, doing your best to emulate her tone. You reached out to hold her hand in a tight grasp. “I would rather defend my thesis a second time than try to find that… hoodlum again.”

Her laugh, though nervous, was beautiful. There was nothing quite like the sound of Sam’s laughter. Even when unsettled, there was a heartiness to it that called to your soul. It touched the deepest parts of you, coaxing them out of their hiding spots until you were laid bare before her, eagerly awaiting her next move.

“I don’t think anyone has ever called Ghostface a “hoodlum” before,” she said before squeezing your hand.

“Well they should,” you said, all joking put aside. “Or perhaps even a coward,” you continued. “Only a coward prevents their victim from seeing the face of their attacker.”

Sam leaned against your arm as she grabbed her textbook again. “You’re talking pretty big for someone who was supposedly terrified of him.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t get within one hundred feet of him,” you clarified. “I’m bold, not brave, my love.”

Her weight settled into you a little more as she pulled her knees up and rested the textbook on top of them. She was doing her best to stay calm; that was what gave her away. The faux-relaxation and attempt to act like you hadn’t just been talking about the person that had terrorised not only her, but her family for years.

And shame on you for bringing it back up again.

You wrapped an arm around her, allowing her to truly sink into you as you both continued your studies. It was not, nor would it ever be, an easy thing to live with. You hadn’t experienced it long, but you could already imagine the constant horror. There was something horrific, not about the immediate threat, but about the ever-looming fear that it could be a threat.

Maybe Tara’s suspicion of you was making more and more sense.

—---

Days passed by without even the slightest hint of Ghostface returning. You kept the news on (when Sam was away) in case there was talk of any familiar murders, but there was nothing. Well, nothing outside of the usual murder and carnage that could be found all over New York City. The more you watched the local news, the more convinced you were that you were not living within a safe city.

Then there was the neverending curiosity that desperately clawed itself up from the deepest recesses of your brain. You hadn’t wanted to think of that… that criminal. Not his motives, his history, none of it. There had been an attempt to push it back down. You had even asked your mother for advice, not wanting to bring it up to Sam in an effort - however futile - to keep her away from it all. Again.

She had not been on your side.

“Just ask her, dear,” your mother said. In the background of the call, you could hear Jeopardy playing on the old television. “If you want the knowledge, you ask the expert.”

You sighed as you flopped down on your own couch. “I don’t want to upset her though.”

Subconsciously, you turned on Jeopardy to watch it with your parents. Just like old times.

“She’ll tell you if it upsets her,” she said. Then, quieter, “what is Metamorphoses.”

“Gosh darn, hon, at least give me a chance to guess it,” you heard your father say. It was a faux complaint; his laugh gave him away.

“He needs to guess faster,” you mumbled, not entirely to anyone in particular.

“Did ya hear that?” Your mother started to blab. “Our little Doctor says you need to guess faster.” She barely contained her giggle.

“Don’t tell him that,” you huffed.

“Well I’m sorry we’re not all fancy pants doctors, kiddo,” he said, far too loud. He still couldn’t really comprehend how phones worked. At least he tried. “Takes some of us a bit of time to think, ya know?”

“What is the knee,” your mother said.

“See?” Your dad groaned. “Got me all distracted, I can’t keep up.”

“Then let me let you go,” you said quickly before either one of your parents could say anything else.

“Don’t forget to ask Samantha,” your mother said with an air of nonchalance that you only dreamed of achieving.

“I will,” you said. The commercial had ended and you knew if you waited much longer, you’d hear your parents arguing over the answer again. “I’ll talk to you both tomorrow.”

“Tell Samantha she needs to watch Jeopardy with us some time,” your dad called out.

“Good night,” you insisted.

“Night, hon,” both of your parents mumbled before you finally managed to end the call.

You loved them, you really did. But the last thing you were going to do anytime soon was invite Sam to watch Jeopardy. You wanted to keep a girlfriend, not lose one. Although maybe it would be the mundanity that she needed. There was nothing less exciting than watching game shows with your parents, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Who is Castro,” you mumbled to yourself before the screen showed your exact answer.

It was truly amazing you had kept a girlfriend for as long as you had so far.

—---

“You’re quiet,” Sam said softly.

You looked up from the abyss that was your wine. The restaurant of the week was a bit more luxurious, “fancy,” as J called it. Tara called it “ridiculous,” but you kept your mouth shut; she would be going on a date to the same place within the month. Her opinion didn’t change the fact that it was a lovely restaurant, only made more beautiful by the woman sitting across from you.

“I’m sorry,” you said just as softly. “I’m just thinking.”

She leaned forward on her arms. “Anything in particular?”

Yes, your mind started, would you truly consider yourself a child of Ghostface? After all, Billy Loomis is technically the forefather of the Ghostface lineage, but he didn’t raise you. Would you still consider him your father? Or, perhaps he is your father but not your dad. Some people make that distinction, you know. Does such a thought bother you-

“-My parents are coming to visit in two weeks,” you said with a calm smile that contradicted your internal monologue. “Would you like to meet them?”

Now that made Sam freeze. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at you. If you looked closer, you almost thought you saw her jaw nearly drop. Oh, so she could fight off Ghostface twice and yet she couldn’t meet your parents? They weren’t so bad! Well, not really, just in a different way. Okay, maybe they were a little intimidating, but not in a bad way!

“Are you afraid of my parents?” You asked as you both sat up, sitting back far enough for the waiter to place your food before you. He pursed his lips and attempted not to smile.

“I’m not afraid of them,” she said indignantly. “I’ve just,” she shrugged, “never had to meet someone’s parents before.”

“Never?” You asked. It was easy enough to maintain eye contact - which your mother claimed was important during serious conversations - while picking at your food. “Not once?”

“Not really, no,” she said. She, however, was not making eye contact. “I mean, there was a boyfriend or two in highschool, but I already knew their parents so it doesn’t count.”

“What about Agent Reed?” You asked before taking another bite of your dinner.

Sam smiled softly. “Already knew her parents too.”

“Right, right,” you said with your own nod before finally looking down at your food. You had nearly forgotten what you had ordered to begin with.

You supposed you couldn’t blame her for being worried. No, you couldn’t blame her at all. Though not quite on the same level - although it completely was - you had been as terrified to meet Tara. Though not her parent, Tara was the only family she had left, aside from the twins. That was terrifying enough without technically being a parent.

Then there was the fear that, although you knew Sam would never admit it aloud, she was afraid of parents. Perhaps it was from the fear that they wouldn’t approve of her as her own mother had made painfully clear. There was no gentle way to tell her that her mother was not a good mother. Parents were rarely disappointed in their children, even on the worst days.

Not every family was as tragic as hers.

“Would it help if I told you about them?” You asked slowly. “Then you can decide if you would like to meet them or not.”

Sam chewed her food thoughtfully before looking up at you through her eyelashes. You hated when she did that, truly you did. It made you fold within an instant. She knew it too. Samantha Carpenter knew what she could do to you, and she used her wiles shamelessly. A femme fatale indeed.

“That would actually be nice,” she finally said. There was a raspiness to her voice that she kept reserved for whenever she wanted something.

You didn’t know what exactly she wanted, but you would have given her the world just to find out.

“Alright then,” you said softly, almost inaudibly as you swallowed harshly. “Where to start?”

Throughout the rest of the evening, you told her of your parents. Of their childhoods, or at least what you were aware of, and their accomplishments. You spun tales of their “wild years,” as they had called it back in the ‘70s. She slowly scrolled through the photos on your phone, the ones you had scanned from their physical photos.

By the time you had ordered dessert - a tiramisu that was to die for - you had moved your chair closer to hers. You had told her of their professions; your mother was a librarian at the small elementary school, and your father worked at the local pharmacy. Nothing fancy, nothing to brag about, but they were proud of their jobs.

All the while, Sam listened intently. You could feel her eyes on you the entire time you talked. It was as if she was staring into your soul, trying to pick apart what could be a lie and what was fact. A painful realisation of just how deep her familial trauma ran, even though she and Tara would never admit it aloud.

“That’s about it, really,” you finally said with a shrug. The signed check had been sitting in front of you for far longer than you could say. “My parents’ entire story in the span of a singular dinner date.”

You… wouldn’t think too hard about the fact you had spent an entire dinner date talking about your parents.

“They sound like good people,” Sam said. Her hand was warm in yours.

“They’re rather eccentric in their own way,” you said, “but they mean well.”

You didn’t ask the question yet. It would be up to Sam whether she wanted to meet your parents or not, and you certainly weren’t going to push her one way or another. This was wholly her decision, you had simply laid out enough for her to make an informed decision of her own.

“Would they like me?” She asked softly.

There was a desperation on her face that she rarely let show. Sam was a tough woman; not just physically. But something about this was making her second guess herself and her own abilities. It was preposterous, though you knew one couldn’t fight their own insecurities so easily. The very look on her face broke your heart.

You lifted her hand to cup her cheek, which she eagerly leaned into.

“My darling,” you said gently, “they already do.”

The smallest of smiles lifted the corners of her mouth. Just as with every time you saw her smile, you knew you would do anything for her if she but looked at you the way she was in that moment. All bright eyes and carefree smile and as beautiful as the day you had first seen her.

“I want to meet them,” she said. “If it’s alright.”

You leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “It’s always alright.”

—---

Your parents loved Sam.

On top of that, your parents loved Sam and Tara. The literal moment they had found out Sam had a little sister, they had demanded you have her over as well. You had done your best not to eavesdrop, but when Sam called it was clear Tara wanted no part of it. However, for better or worse, the decision was made and Sam agreed to bring Tara over the next evening.

Then you all made the mistake of mentioning J. You should have known better, truly you should have. You knew your parents and their proclivity for practically adopting everyone into the family. They had picked it up in the ‘70s and had never gone back. Tara was practically blackmailed into bringing J with her the next night.

Your parents took to all of them like they were blood.

“You three better start practising,” your dad pointed out when the three newest family members were unusually silent while The Price is Right played in the background. “We only take it easy on ya the first time.”

“Dad,” you warned as you continued putting up Trivial Pursuit.

Your mom had wiped the floor with everyone, as usual.

“Don’t listen to him, hon,” your mom said. She was sitting proudly on her Winner’s Chair, as she had dubbed it after only the second win of the night. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“You sure about that?” J asked, their accent almost a comical contrast to your mother’s. “I felt like a fish outta water.”

“Practice makes perfect,” your mom said with a smile that was far too cheery for the humiliation she had instilled upon you all.

You would never forgive her for embarrassing you in front of Sam.

“We should get going,” Tara said rather reluctantly. “We have to be somewhere in the morning.”

“Where?” J asked.

The disappointment on Tara’s face was worthy of a picture.

“Brunch with your parents,” she said quietly.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” J said. Their voice, on the other hand, was far too loud for the situation. It was rather comical; you didn’t know how those two had ended up together, but their contrast was a work of art. “We gotta go.”

“Before ya head out,” your dad said as everyone stood up to tell them bye, “we gotta hug it out since we’re leavin’ tomorrow.”

J and Tara shared a look before looking at you. Right. None of them were really touchy-feely people. Being around your parents for the week had erased that possibility from your mind. With your bunch, you were all touching, hugging, patting each other on the back, whatever you could get away with. There hadn’t even been a thought in your mind that everyone else was a bit hesitant with their physical affection.

“You don’t have to,” you said softly with a shake of your head.

“Oh, are ya not a hugger?” Your mom asked.

“How’s about a handshake, bud?” Your dad said just as quickly.

“Handshake works great,” J said with their stereotypical toothy grin.

Your parents shook both J’s and Tara’s hands, telling them how lovely it was to meet them, inviting them over for Christmas and Easter and 4 of July and every other holiday they could think of. You walked the both of them out of the apartment while your parents continued to shout invitations to them.

Come over if ya need to get away for a weekend.

I’ll mail ya both some homemade cookies soon.

Expect somethin’ for your birthdays.

They didn’t stop offering things until the door closed behind the couple and it was only Sam left. Not that it stopped your parents, of course, they just simply turned their invitations towards her. Your parents were overwhelming, you knew they were. They meant well, they were just… a lot.

Yet Sam managed to handle it with grace and charm, and you simply fell more and more in love with her. She had your parents laughing, smiling, cracking jokes that they normally wouldn’t when they were alone with you. Something about her brought out a slightly less reserved side of them that you didn’t think you had ever seen.

And when she looked up and met your eyes as they continued talking with her, there was a familiar sparkle that you didn’t see as often as you would like, especially after hearing that Ghostface was back. She looked like your Sam, the one who had joked with you and teased you about your proclivity for books. The one you had woken up with last summer without a single care in the world.

The one you were utterly devoted to and would have sacrificed anything to make happy. That was your Sam once again.

—---

It was a beautiful late-winter day. The air was still a bit chilly, and you were bundled tightly in your warm coat that went down to your ankles. One of your hands was shoved deep into the pockets while the other held a small bouquet of flowers. The sweet bodega owner on the corner of your street was notorious for having the most beautiful flowers, and you now had to agree.

You were supposed to be home grading essays while Sam studied. One of the few relegated nights a week where you were both at your own homes. But you had missed her during the day, and you wouldn’t apologise for it. On the walk home, you had decided you would surprise her. After all, everyone loved flowers, didn’t they?

The streets were as busy as they usually were, but that was alright. It was a rather lovely evening, and it gave you more time to think about Sam. There was no doubt in your mind that anyone, possibly everyone would have teased you for how much of a… what did J call it? A simp you were for her. Yet you didn’t mind. You would have done anything for her without an ounce of hesitation.

Your mind started replaying the nights you spent with her. Some more exciting than others, though none of them a bore. The nights you spent together in each other’s bed, keeping quiet at her place while not bothering to do the same at yours. Or the nights you would just lay there, tracing scars and telling stories. Hers were far more interesting than yours, that was for sure.

Would it be too soon to start questioning if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her? It had been nearly a year, if your memory served you well. Not the longest length of time, but you knew plenty of people that had questioned it much sooner. Would you want to spend the rest of your life with her?

Yes. Yes, you would. Being able to wake up to Sam every morning, hair splayed out on your pillow even as she insisted she was on her own. To be there for her when the nightmares and fears became too much. A shoulder to lean on, to cry on, a hand to hold when she needed it. You wanted to be by her side through it all, the good, the bad, the fun, the terrifying.

Nothing sounded better than being able to call her yours for the rest of your lives.

You didn’t bother buzzing to be let in; someone already downstairs let you in, having recognised you, you supposed. It wouldn’t have been too far of a stretch, you had frequented the apartment complex often enough. You were almost certain you knew the Carpenters’ neighbours better than they did.

Each step up the stairs had your heart racing faster. You were of the mind of a giddy school child, seeing their crush for the first time after the weekend. It was a little silly, but you didn’t care. Your parents had instilled in you the ability to be proud of your tendencies that most would find a little ridiculous. And you would never be shamed for wanting to see your girlfriend.

There were a few muffled voices behind the door when you approached the apartment. It wasn’t unusual, they were the centre hub for their friends. Sometimes the twins would come over, sometimes Anika would come around for a short escape, sometimes all three would arrive at once. On occasion you had even seen Quinn, though she had moved out some months ago and only frequented the bigger gatherings.

You opened the door quietly, doing your best not to disturb whoever else was inside. Slowly slipping into the apartment and easing the door shut, you did your best to keep the flowers as presentable as possible. After all, that was the surprise you had spent so long picking out. It would do you no good to mess them up before you could even give them to Sam. You turned around-

-the flowers fell to the floor with a thump.

“Oh shit.”