Wednesday Addams X Reader - Tumblr Posts

everyone but her pt.25

Summary: College is a big step in any young adult's life. The biggest concern should be tests and not sleeping past the alarm for your morning classes. But murder always seems to follow Wednesday Addams around, and this time, she isn't sure she likes it.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, murder, vague descriptions of murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove

“Authorities have been unable to find any answers about the murder that occurred on Quaker street around midnight last night.”

The news continued to drone on the television you had helped set up in the common space of the dorm suite. Everyone was either already out of the dorm for the morning or still sleeping. You were rushing around the common space looking for your other boot to head to work, tripping over your own feet in an attempt to do everything all at once.

“Authorities have yet to announce any details about the grisly murder-”

“-shit, is that another one?” You mumbled around the toothbrush still hanging out of your mouth. Wednesday very much wished you wouldn’t do that right beside her ear.

“Third murder since school started,” Wednesday answered, her eyes still glued to the television.

“Don’t leave the dorm without your pocket mace,” you said slowly as you straightened back up and continued brushing your teeth.

“You seem to forget I am more than capable of staying safe,” she said as she turned around on the couch to look you in the eye.

“You know what? Never mind, I’m more worried about him encountering you,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“You worry too much,” She said softly. You walked over to the kitchen sink and spit out the toothpaste, wiping your mouth off before walking back.

“Yes I do,” you said as you leaned down and planted a minty kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you after work.”

“Refrain from arguing with the elderly lady at the bus stop again,” Wednesday called out before you could leave.

“I’ll behave if she does,” you answered with a shit-eating grin that she was slowly coming to enjoy. At least you were smiling. “I’ll tell Tio you said hi!”

Wednesday watched the door until she heard the click of the lock sliding into place. It was something you had started doing after the first murder in town. Whether someone was in the apartment or not, you made double and triple sure that the doors were locked. If anyone was going to leave or stay home alone, they would need to double and triple check that the doors were locked at all times.

Even with that being the case, everyone heading to university had been good for you. When they had all told you they were going to the same university - one that was more than favourable for Outcasts - and they planned on taking you with them, it was like a godsend. She hated emotion, but when your eyes teared up at the new plan, it almost made her feel something.

Your Tio had come around to help get everyone settled and show you the ropes of his construction company. To get you started, he had said; claimed he wanted to expand a bit anyway. Everyone knew it was a nonsensical excuse, even you, but you took it anyway. At least it gave you something to do and helped you stay on your feet.

The only downside to all of this? Wednesday was now living with seven other people in a confined space. These people were ones she cared about - though she would never admit it out loud - but that didn’t change the fact that none of them were pleasant to be living with. At least not when a shared living space and kitchen was a requirement.

“Omg, is that another dead guy?” Enid asked in her sleepy voice.

“Yes,” Wednesday said as she turned back to look at the television. As much as she hated technology, she would admit it had its occasional use.

“Should we be worried?” Enid asked, quickly stepping into the common room to sit on the couch beside Wednesday, both of their thighs touching ever so slightly from the proximity.

“It appears they are targeting normies,” Wednesday said. “A wise decision in a town full of Outcasts.”

“So we’re safe?” Enid asked hesitantly, an underlying whine accenting her concern.

“Enid,” Wednesday said, turning to look her best friend in the eyes. “You are a 300 pound werewolf with vampires, gorgons, and sirens as your family. No one would dare even look at you wrong.”

“You promise?” She asked with furrowed brows and a pout that Divina would have described as cute. Wednesday sighed softly.

“I promise,” she said, to which Enid surged forward to force her into a hug.

“I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to me,” Enid said before getting up from the couch and going back to her room as if she hadn’t just hugged Wednesday.

If she was turning this soft, she hoped the murderer would come for her next.

—---

“Pollito!”

You set your pencil down and looked around until you caught Tio’s eyes. Shit, you thought as a sudden fear coursed through your veins. Had you fucked up? Surely not, you were just sketching a bit, you hadn’t even started on the cabinets. Wait, maybe that was the problem, you hadn’t started the cabinets. Oh fuck, you were going to get fired.

“Can you help Mack with that custom table?” Tio asked once he was standing in front of your desk. “You have steadier hands.”

Oh.

“Sure thing,” you said with a closed-mouth smile.

“Gracias,” he said as he patted you on the back. “I’m heading out, can you lock up later?”

“Sure thing,” you said as you stood up and started walking with him. “Doing anything exciting?”

“Making the drive back home,” he said. “Abuelita is a little under the weather.”

“Since when?” You asked, pulling to a stop. “No one told me she was sick-”

“-slow down, pollito,” Tio said with a gentle smile. “It’s just a cold. Nothing some caldo de pollo can’t fix, huh?”

You didn’t like that. Not one bit. Abuelita was tough, but she was a normie and she was old. No, a cold was nothing compared to her, but what if? The thought was enough to make your mouth feel like cotton and your hands sweat profusely. Would they even tell you if she wasn’t okay?

“Hey,” Tio said softly. His hand was warm on your shoulder. “She’s too stubborn to let a cold take her out, no?”

“You promise she’s alright?” You asked hesitantly.

“I promise,” he said. “I’ll even tell her you said hello.”

“Don’t tell her that,” you grumbled as you started walking again, heading to the front with Tio. “She’ll get a big head.”

“See? You agree, she’s fine,” he laughed, his deep laugh that made your stomach flip.

“See you in a week?” You asked when you finally approached the door and could lean on the frame.

“Two at most,” he nodded. “Keep the shop safe?”

“Claro,” you said with a shrug. “Nothing gets past me.”

“Claro que no.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “Call if you need anything.”

“Get out,” you said with your own small smile. “It’s my shop now.”

“Stay safe!” He called out as he backed away, his hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

You waited until he was in his car and out on the street before walking back inside. It was a big deal to hold the keys to the shop, especially right now. Sure, everyone in the shop treated you well, you liked them, but you were still the youngest. And, quite frankly, you were probably the only one with a violent offense on their record, so that was both a positive and a negative.

With only a quick sweep over the shop, you made your way over to the table Mack was working at. He looked beyond concentrated even though he was simply staring at the table. His premature greys were peeking out from under his backwards cap and you almost wanted to laugh at him. Almost.

“Need help, Big Mack?” You asked after you watched him stare for another two or three minutes.

“Not from you, pollito,” he said in the most obnoxious Jersey accent. His smile gave him away though.

“Move over,” you said anyway, gently shoving him with your shoulder to get a look at what he was trying to do.

“Big shoes to fill this week,” Mack said once you both got started on the table. “Think you can handle it?”

“I think so,” you said as you sharpened the pencil to make a few more marks. “As long as you guys aren’t too hard on me.”

“Now what makes you think we would do that?” He asked with a barely concealed smile.

You just shook your head and blew the pencil shavings off the table. He was full of shit, you both knew it. Still, it eased a bit of the stress starting to close around your chest. All the guys were nice, genuinely nice, and they certainly wouldn’t leave you to flounder.

There was an easy flow throughout the shop. Every now and then you would look up, make sure no one needed help, then go back to carving out certain patterns on the legs of the table so no one questioned you. You weren’t better than anyone in the shop, you never claimed to be, but you had been tasked with keeping everything under control. It instilled a certain air of authority that, deserved or not, you hoped everyone would respect.

The morning flew by quickly, and you and Mack were making excellent progress on the table. Most of the guys were milling about trying to decide what they wanted to do for lunch, but you continued to work. It made a wonderful distraction from the thought of some budding murderer out and about in town while your girlfriend, who had a penchant for murder, was also out and about.

“You got plans for this evening?” Mack asked when you finally stood up to stretch your back.

“Might force Wednesday to watch a movie with me,” you said with a tired smile. “You?”

“It’s my little girl’s birthday today,” he said with a nod. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the table.

“Happy birthday,” you said quickly. “How old is she?”

“Just turned eight,” he said.

“Eight, huh?” You said with a slow nod. “That’s…”

You shut the bathroom door quickly to drown out the screaming from downstairs. Mean words that felt like they were crawling into your brain and making it a home. Your hands closed around your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut as your new little wings fluttered, leaving a comforting *swoosh* sound. Daddy’s mean words kept bouncing around your head.

“That’s a big birthday,” you finally said around the lump in your throat. If Mack noticed you spacing out, he didn’t bring it up. “Gonna do something nice for her?”

“Not today,” he sighed, picking up his pencil and drawing out a few more designs.

“Why not?” You asked. It was your turn to lean back against the table. “Today is the big day.”

“Don’t get paid till Friday,” he said as he shot you a quick smile.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. What could you say? Everyone working in the shop lived paycheck to paycheck, that was how it worked. Not because Tio didn’t pay well, but life was just expensive, especially since most of these men had families. You had grown up in the same kind of situation; life revolved around paychecks.

But it was her birthday…

With a simple “excuse me,” you walked away from the table and back to your own desk which was, thankfully, out of Mack’s view. You tapped on your phone to see that Enid had sent a message from Wednesday - who still refused to use the phone you had given her - but it was nothing serious. With a tired sigh, you plopped down into your chair and let your head fall into your hands.

You knew what Wednesday would tell you. It wasn’t your problem; you had no control over paychecks and it wasn’t your child. And she would be right, just like she usually was. But it was her birthday. Just because your eighth birthday had been fucked didn’t mean some other kid’s birthday had to be less than spectacular. Eight was a big age, after all.

Another heavy sigh left your lips as your eyes trailed to where your wallet was sitting, nice and hidden on your messy desk. Don’t do it, the voice in your head warned. Don’t be a doormat. You bit your lip and sat back in your chair, looking out into thin air.

The wallet taunted you.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the wallet and started thumbing through whatever cash you had.

How expensive would a night out be? Well, you supposed that would depend on how many people were going. Mack had… three kids? Plus his wife? So that would be five people. Okay, then you would add your last $20. How much would dessert be? If they only got it for baby girl, then that wouldn’t be too bad, you would just add another $10.

You’re pathetic, the voice said. Just for that, you pulled all the cash out of your wallet. A migraine started to build in your right temple.

“Suck my dick,” you mumbled as you tossed your now-empty wallet onto your desk and stood up, cash in hand.

Most of the shop was fairly empty now that everyone was either out at lunch or fucking around in the break room. Good, that would make it less obvious when you got back to Mack’s table. He was still marking out the designs, face so close to the table there was no way it was healthy for his eyes.

You hit his shoulder lightly with the hand that was holding the cash. He looked at you for a second before doing a double take and standing up. You just held your hand out for him. All he did was look at it with furrowed brows.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Go on home,” you said with a shrug, “and take your girl out for a birthday dinner.”

“I’m not taking your money, kid,” he said with a shake of his head. But he didn’t look away from your hand.

“You’re not taking it, I’m giving it,” you said as you moved your hand closer to him. “I get paid Friday too.”

“Come on-”

“-take it and get the fuck out,” you said.

When he still didn’t take it, you exhaled harshly through your nose and grabbed his hand, shoving the cash into it before closing his fingers around the bills. You could feel him staring at you. It made your stomach turn into knots. He knows you’re pathetic.

“Thank you,” he said in a voice that was far too soft. “Your daddy raised you right.”

“No one wants charity,” daddy said as you sat in the back of the car, now without your stuffed rabbit. “No one wants your pity.”

“She didn’t have a friend,” you said.

“People will walk all over you,” daddy continued. “Never do it again.”

“Someone did,” you said with a forced smile. “Now get the fuck out of my shop.”

“I’ll give Lily an extra hug from you,” Mack said with a giant smile that showed off his crooked bottom teeth. It was a nice smile.

He patted you on the shoulder twice before practically running out of the shop, more than eager to go see Lily for her birthday. It was sweet, truly it was, that he was so excited to spend the day with his little girl. Hell, there was practically a skip in his step.

But then your own smile fell as you looked back down at the table that was very much not finished.

“Seems you’ve got yourself some overtime, pollito,” Simon said, suddenly appearing behind you.

“Shut the hell up and get back to work,” you grumbled, to which he only laughed and went back to his own project.

Your daddy raised you right, the voice in your head echoed as you grabbed the chisel and started carving out another pattern.

The migraine got worse.

It was going to be a long day.

—---

Wednesday sighed and checked the clock on the wall once again. 7:04pm. Far past time for you to be back at the dorm. It wasn’t the first time you were late for the evening, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. If you got into a genuine flow at work, sometimes you wouldn’t be home until well after midnight. Even though it left her grumpy because she had to fall asleep on her own - and she would kill anyone who discovered that fact - she understood you were proud of your work.

But there was a murderer in town now, and you were known for finding yourself in trouble whether you wanted it or not.

“If you sigh one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Bianca said with a huff.

“Just go already,” Ajax said as he grabbed his burger from the takeout bag Kent had brought home for everyone for dinner. “We’ll save dinner for you guys.”

“But don’t forget this!” Enid called out from her room.

It took only a few seconds for her to show back up with a pink mace keychain. Wednesday looked at it in disgust - not because it was mace, but because it was pink - before exhaling through her nose and taking it anyway. There was no way anyone was going to try and catch her unawares, but she appreciated everyone trying to keep each other safe. She supposed she could understand why you loved having everyone around.

Everyone bid her goodbye as she left the dorm, keys and mace in her pocket and determination on her mind. The weather was finally starting to get cold in the evenings so it was a wonderful walk. You worked just a little further than a comfortable walk away from campus, but you made the trek every day anyway. Although she had told you that if you would just take the bus, it would be a far more efficient trip to work.

You adamantly refused.

A small part at the back of Wednesday’s mind was consciously aware of the possibility of someone sneaking up on her. She was prepared, of course she was, but it was always possible. And given her… smaller than average stature, it was even probable. They would be a fool to try, but it still might happen.

Yet, as luck would have it, she walked into Tio’s shop as if she owned the place with nary a scratch. It was almost a bit disappointing that no one had tried anything; she would have enjoyed the challenge. But you didn’t need her trying to fight off rising murderers, and she supposed it was worth keeping your anger metre down.

Or so she thought until you were nowhere to be found.

“Hola, Wednesday,” Simon said as he walked over while wiping his hands off on the hand towel that was, admittedly, almost dirtier than his hands.

“Good evening,” Wednesday said, straightening her back to look up and meet his eyes. “Do you know where-”

“-pollito is in Felix’s office,” he said with a gesture of his head in the proper direction. “Make her sleep at home, no? She’s getting cranky.”

She nodded once, to which Simon smiled and lowered his head in a silent “goodbye.” While he was walking out the door, she made her way to Tio’s office where, just as directed, you were sitting behind the desk with your head in your hands. Papers were scattered around you haphazardly and it was truly a wonder how you ever managed to get any work done in such conditions.

“You’re late,” Wednesday said. She had to fight down the spiders crawling up her throat at the little jump your body made.

“No I’m not,” you retorted instantly. A beat of silence. “What time is it?”

“Precisely 7:43 in the evening,” Wednesday said as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Fuck,” you said even as you leaned back and raked your hands down your face. “Explains why my back hurts, I guess.”

“If you would sit properly then you-”

“-yeah yeah, it wouldn’t hurt so bad,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Thanks for the tip, mom.”

Wednesday frowned as you stood up and started stretching out your back. She was not particularly fond of you calling her “mom,” even dismissively. It left a bitter taste in her mouth that she couldn’t quite place. Why would she want to be your mother? She was very happy to be your girlfriend. What part of her made you think that way?

“You ready?” You asked, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts. You were putting your wallet and phone into the pockets of your jeans.

She nodded and started walking out. There was no need to look back, you followed her everywhere. If she had asked, you would have followed her through hell and she knew it. The sound of your boots on the concrete immediately behind her was all the proof she needed.

It only took you a moment to lock up, triple checking everything before deeming it good enough for the night. Your hand was sweaty when you took hers but she didn’t mind. It was warm, and even though she wasn’t cold, it was comforting. Although she would never let Enid know that she was right; having a warm partner was… nice.

You both stayed fairly silent during the walk. Occasionally one of you would ask a question about the other’s day, but it was otherwise uneventful. It was a wonderful thing, Wednesday realised, to walk with you and feel comfortable in the silence. She knew the amount of talking you did directly correlated to your comfort, and to know you could happily be silent with her? Well, that had her own palms feeling clammy.

“Oh shit,” you said as you slowed down at the flashing red and blue lights around the corner.

“Another one,” Wednesday said, her eyes trailing over the newly erected crime scene tape.

There was no ambulance which indicated that either the victims were already transported, or they were now casualties. Three police cars were parked around, and there were seven officers milling around as well. She could hear the radios from the car going off and there in the distance was the body.

“Wait.” You dropped Wednesday’s hand. “Wait, that’s Mack.”

There was no chance to stop you before you were running full speed toward the scene. She had to watch as a police officer grabbed you by the arms, pulling you back and keeping you from crossing the tape. Your hands were gesturing wildly and you tried again to get past the tape.

Your shouts and cries sent a shock through her heart as she walked nearer.

“I need you to tell me when you saw him last,” the police officer’s voice became more clear as Wednesday approached.

“I- I- we-.” You inhaled, held it, and exhaled slowly. “He left around noon.”

“Do you know where he was going?”

Wednesday saw your shoulders fall.

“It’s his daughter’s birthday.”

The officer sighed before looking back at the corpse that was now being blocked from Wednesday’s view. You were still staring in the same direction but she could tell you weren’t seeing anything. It was in the way your eye twitched every few seconds. In the way your hands and legs shook.

Without thinking, she reached out and took your hand. Almost instantly, you squeezed it tight. Painfully tight. But she didn’t dare pull away because she could see the quickening rise and fall of your chest and the flare of your nostrils and the slightest quiver of your bottom lip.

“Can I call you if we have any more questions?” The police officer asked you. He was shorter than you by a few inches, so his attempt to look up at you was almost comical.

When you didn’t say anything, Wednesday elbowed you lightly in the side. You blinked rapidly a few times before meeting his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said as if through a fog. “Yeah, of course.”

You gave the police officer your name and phone number. While you were answering a few more questions, Wednesday was able to get a better look at Mack’s body. Blood was pooled around him and the photographer was taking a picture of a knife that was on the ground a few feet away.

“You kids get home,” the police officer said. “It’s not safe.”

Wednesday didn’t say anything but nodded once before pulling you away from the scene gently. It was as if your feet were made of lead with how you barely managed to drag them across the asphalt. Your eyes were unfocused and your bottom lip continued to shake just enough for her to notice. She knew you were close to Mack.

This was going to kill you.

You were still in a daze when Wednesday walked you through the door to the dorm. Everyone was already in the common room, watching the news as they talked about the most recent murder. From her position so close to you, she felt your body shake.

“Oh thank god,” Enid said. She nearly tripped over herself in her rush to check you and Wednesday over. “We thought you were goners.”

“Don’t you walk by this place every night?” Divina asked.

Your face started to pale when the news mentioned Mack’s name.

“We’re going to bed,” Wednesday said.

All it took was one look at you before everyone closed their mouths. Kent turned down the volume on the TV and changed the channel. Enid gave you both an apologetic smile and stood aside so Wednesday could gently usher you to your shared room. Thankfully, you let her.

You still didn’t say a word as you stood unmoving in the middle of the room. You still had on your work clothes and Wednesday knew what she was going to have to do. Slowly so as not to startle you, she stood in front of you and started taking your work clothes off.

First your shirt, which was buttoned all the way up to your neck. It was one of your old ones; the one with the oil stains and the hole in the breast pocket. She didn’t bother folding it before tossing it into the dirty clothes hamper in the corner. Then it was your harness, which was the easiest part. Your wings stretched themselves out before settling comfortably against your back.

“Sit down,” Wednesday ordered not unkindly. Even then, she helped guide you to the bed until you were sitting slouched over as if the weight of the world rested on your shoulders.

She was thankful for the work boots you had picked out because there were no laces. It made it so much easier to just slip off your feet and place them back by the door. You sat, still unmoving aside from the occasional shiver that wracked your body. At least you assisted her in sliding your jeans off your hips so she could fold them and place them neatly by the closet.

When Wednesday turned back around, you had already curled yourself into a ball on your side of the bed. You hadn’t even given her the chance to get your pyjamas out, instead staying in your boxers and tank top. With how comatose you appeared, she figured it wouldn’t hurt for her to go ahead and get ready for bed on her own anyway.

The moment she was ready, she climbed into bed beside you and waited. Times like these were where she was most uncertain with how to act. Sometimes when you were upset, you would want to pull her close and press a kiss to her neck, feeling her pulse underneath your lips. But other times, you wouldn’t want any contact at all, instead deciding to be upset all on your own.

It was the good night, Wednesday realised when you reached out with shaking hands to pull her closer. She turned until her back was pressed against your front and you could wrap an arm securely around her waist. You kept her head tucked right underneath your chin. Even from that position she could feel your erratic heartbeat against her skin.

“It’s his daughter’s birthday,” you whispered in a broken voice.

Wednesday didn’t know what to say. So she just lifted your hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to each individual knuckle. She held your hand against her until she felt your heartbeat slow to a normal rate for you. Your breaths came out evenly and your grip on her waist relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Wednesday whispered only after she was sure you were asleep.

She hoped you were too exhausted for the nightmares to make another appearance.

everyone but her pt.26

Summary: Wednesday makes it her mission to help you through your grieving, even if it means taking you back home for a few weeks. But of course nothing is ever that simple

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, grief, mentions of murder Pairing: Wednesday x Fem!Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove

Wednesday cared for you. Truly she did, in a way she didn’t care for many people. If you simply gave her a look, she would fall to her knees and do whatever you asked of her, no matter how heinous or selfless or charitable. Without hesitation, she would burn the world down for you and stand in the ashes with a smile.

And she was aware that you were grieving. She hadn’t known Mack well, but she knew you had been close with the man. More than once you had mentioned him, or his wife, or his kids. So you must have been close enough, and she couldn’t understand your grief but she knew you felt it, and you felt it deeply.

But if you interrupted her sleep once more, she was going to snap.

You had managed to teach her how to feel things a little closer to how the normal population felt things. She felt a little more understanding, even if she didn’t agree. More than once, you had told her that you just couldn’t sleep because your brain wouldn’t stop, and she could understand. Not comprehend, but understand. So the first few times, when you had been restless and finally got up in the middle of the night, she understood.

However, it was coming up on three weeks after the murder, and she no longer understood.

Wednesday heard you sigh before you tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. She would hand it to you, you were getting rather good at it. Now, she was barely even jostled when you crawled over the footboard of the bed and opened and closed the door with little more than a barely-audible click.

She debated leaving you to your devices. More often than not, you turned away her pitiful attempts at comfort. Silence was sometimes the preferred method of grieving in your mind. But something in her mind told her she needed to get up and check on you.

With a sigh, she pushed herself off the bed and padded her bare feet across the cold wooden floor until she saw you sitting on the couch with the light from the television illuminating your face. You were facing the screen but she could tell you weren’t really watching. At least that’s what she was convinced of until she heard what you were watching.

“Authorities have closed the Malcom Riley case, having put out a statement early this week claiming it to be a mugging gone wrong.”

A mugging gone wrong was a bit extreme in Wednesday’s opinion, but she had heard worse. Although the knowledge seemed to upset you even more if your hunched shoulders were anything to go by. Your knees pulled up to your chest and you rested your chin on them as you kept your eyes glued to the television.

There was no telling if you had seen her standing in the hallway, or noticed her walk toward the couch. You didn’t move when she sat down beside you and pulled the designated couch blanket over hers and your legs. The television continued to play in the background, but she just sat there with you in silence.

“You could’ve gone back to sleep,” you said once the third commercial of the night aired. It was something about a restaurant that she cared nothing about.

“Your incessant moving woke me,” she said without hesitation. You didn’t even flinch. She’s grieving.  “And your absence left the bed cold.”

“Then come here,” you said as you held your arm out for her. When she didn’t move, you sighed. “I’ll wake you up before anyone sees.”

Wednesday cursed herself for the blind trust she was putting in you. But your body was soft and comfortable and she supposed she was still tired. Though she refused to fall asleep before you. She didn’t know how to help you, but she was convinced you didn’t need to stay awake alone.

“Services for Mr. Riley will be held this Saturday at Resthaven on-”

Wait. Saturday? Wednesday knew the day had to mean something, but what was it…

Oh.

No. No, you certainly didn’t need to be left alone.

She let herself lean into your side and breathe you in. In other circumstances she would scold you for smelling of sweat, coffee, and sawdust. The lack of dust was a nice change of pace, but it didn’t change the others. Though she supposed the coffee and sawdust wasn’t truly too bad, it made you smell rather homely.

“Quit smelling me,” you said in a hushed voice. “I can feel your nose moving against my neck.”

“Why would I be smelling you?” Wednesday defended. “It’s not like your scent is anything pleasant.”

“Sounds like something one would say if they knew what I smelled like,” you said. She didn’t have to look up to see the smile on your face.

“I would avoid continuing that train of thought,” she said even as she continued to wrap herself around you, “before I wish more nightmares upon your sleep.”

"I'm quaking," you said simply before leaving a lingering kiss on the top of her head.

It was difficult to tell when exactly Wednesday had fallen asleep. She remembered listening to the news prattle on about the weather for the rest of the week, as if it was the most important thing. But the next thing she knew was hearing your voice, quiet and soft. Her head had ended up in your lap and your fingers were absentmindedly scratching her scalp.

Maybe, for a moment, she understood why Enid loved it so much.

There had been no intention to eavesdrop on your conversation that she then realised was over the phone. Your constant scratching and soft voice very nearly put her back to sleep. Paired with something quietly playing on the television - no longer the news, it seemed - and it would have made the perfect morning.

Not that she would ever let anyone know that it would make a perfect morning.

“Of course, Mrs. Riley,” you said softly with a sigh that wouldn’t have been picked up over the phone. “I’ll see you Saturday morning.”

Wednesday kept her eyes closed but kept her senses focused on you. The indistinguishable sound of you ending the call was quickly followed by a sniffle. You shifted underneath her and jostled her only for a second before you froze again. There was a shakiness to your fingers that hadn’t been there before, and as much as she would have loved to stay still, she supposed “waking up” would be the proper thing to do.

“I don’t want to go.”

With bated breath, Wednesday stilled and waited. Waited to hear if you would say anything else, or if you were even talking to her. Had you noticed she was actually awake and just waiting for you? She hoped not. Of course she had been eavesdropping, but surprisingly it hadn’t been intentional.

You didn’t say anything else. Your fingers continued to scratch her scalp while your other hand slid under her shirt to rest on her waist. She had thought it a million times, but the warmth of your skin always amazed her. It was warm and an impossible mix of soft and rough. It was so very human.

Although Wednesday quickly realised her eavesdropping was pointless. You had simply filled her in later that day when you headed out far earlier than normal for work. She should have scolded you for working overtime when it was unnecessary. And she especially should have scolded you for working overtime that wouldn’t even go to your own paycheck.

She had asked you who the overtime was going to only once. The tired, worn, hopeless look you gave her was more than enough to convey the answer.

It was a long week for everyone. No one knew how best to console you, instead opting for the more at-home things. Divina would do the shopping while Yoko would cook each night and Enid would pack up leftovers for you to take to work the next day. Ajax and Kent started taking you off the chore wheel and put them on their own names instead.

You never said anything to indicate you were aware of their efforts, but your shoulders stooped a little less when you got back to the dorm. That was confirmation enough for everyone to continue what they were doing. So while you were out before sunup until long after sundown, they all continued to do their best.

And as Wednesday finally revelled in you sleeping through the night for the first time in nearly a month, she supposed it was all working out just fine.

“I don’t want to go,” you said early Saturday morning as Wednesday helped you with your tie. She wondered, not for the first time, if you were ever going to learn how to tie it yourself.

“You promised Mrs. Riley you would go,” Wednesday said simply, her eyes glued to the tie. Oh look, it seemed she accidentally did it wrong. She would have to start over, what a shame.

“It was supposed to be Nicky’s weekend,” you mumbled.

Wednesday lost all desire to fix your tie.

The funeral itself was a small affair, a stark contrast to Nicky’s exactly one year ago. Only family and a handful of friends, which included Tio and you; and Wednesday as your previously approved plus one. The real social gathering occurred afterward for the memorial.

It was startlingly familiar to Nicky’s once it came down to the memorial with only one major difference; everyone at Mack’s funeral seemed to be there for Mack. Every acquaintance of your parents’ had shown their faces for clout, Wednesday had realised quickly, but at Mack’s? Every soul in that building was there for the intent purpose of celebrating the man.

While not the usual atmosphere she enjoyed at a funeral, she found herself appreciating it anyway.

Most of your time was spent with Mack’s daughter; Lily, if Wednesday remembered correctly. Which she did. You sat near her on the brick near the lit fireplace. There was no telling what you talked about, all she could tell was you gave her your best smile. Lily smiled back.

“I went ahead and ordered the headstone,” you said on the walk back to the dorm. Thanks to the extensive distance, it was going to take a solid 35 minutes. You were lucky Wednesday had worn decent walking shoes.

Her fingers itched to interlock with yours, but you were too busy keeping them shoved in your suit pants pockets.

“Think it should get here on Friday,” you kept talking. “No, next Monday.” Your brows furrowed. “Or Tuesday.”

“It will arrive when it arrives,” Wednesday chimed in.

“Suppose so,” you mumbled as your eyes returned to the ground. “Was supposed to clean Nicky’s today.”

“We can go next weekend,” Wednesday offered.

“Yeah,” you nodded in a daze. “Yeah, next weekend.”

Next weekend came and went without any attempt to go see Nicky. Wednesday had debated asking you what you were planning, if you still wanted to go, but judging by the bags under your eyes and the increasingly common nights spent on the couch, she decided better of it. Instead she stayed close, let you cope however you chose, and gave you the silent support she was best at.

“When was the last time your girlfriend took a break?”

Wednesday sighed but refused to look up. If Yoko asked one more question about you while she was trying to study, she was going to put garlic on the next grocery list. It would be easy enough to convince Divina to look the other way. Anyway, didn’t Yoko have her own studying to do? Finals were next week.

“Before Mack,” Ajax chimed in. He was also not studying for his finals. Did no one in the dorm care?

Well. Bianca did, but that was why she was in the library instead of the dorm. Smart move, Wednesday wished she had done the same.

“You should try to take her away for winter break,” Enid said. “Get away from the city for a little while.”

“You guys could always come spend Christmas with us,” Kent offered.

“No you can’t,” Divina said without hesitation. “We’re already running from Enid’s family, we can’t give away our hideout now.”

“Not like it’s much of a secret anymore,” Yoko grumbled. She stirred what was in the pot a few more times. “Dinner’s done.”

“You’re not poisoning us this time, right?” Ajax asked hesitantly, but still got up to grab a bowl.

“Poisoning would be preferable to this conversation,” Wednesday said just softly enough for only Enid to hear.

Everyone got their bowls before settling in their own places, finally getting started on their studying. Why they had to wait until they had food, Wednesday had no idea, but at least it got them out of her space at the small kitchen table. Her own eyes were still focused on her English Lit textbook when a bowl was placed in front of her.

“You really should think about it,” Enid said as she sat opposite Wednesday. “Maybe take her back home.”

“She has shown no interest,” Wednesday said. Though, the more she considered the suggestion, the less ridiculous it sounded.

“Ask her when she gets back from therapy,” Enid said with a gentle smile that was reserved for serious conversation. “Might be good for the both of you.”

Enid kept her company as they both finished dinner. There was very little talk, which was perfectly fine with Wednesday, but it was nice to have the company. Usually everyone paired off and went about their evenings, leaving Wednesday alone in the kitchen until you came home. More often than not it was preferred over the needless small talk.

But she did so enjoy Enid’s company. At least, when she didn’t have “the zoomies,” as you and Yoko so kindly called it.

It was nearing midnight when you finally came back to the dorm, closing and locking the front door with nary a sound. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you finally saw her still sitting at the desk, a cup of tea and another textbook laid out in front of her. She nearly felt sorry when you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thought you were asleep,” you said softly. “I would’ve been home sooner.”

“Therapy went well, I presume,” Wednesday said just as quietly. Your shoulders fell.

“So good I decided to work my hands to death for another four hours,” you grumbled.

“Would you…” Wednesday paused, and you glanced at her as you walked to the fridge. Ask her, Enid’s voice echoed in her head. “Would you like to talk about it?”

You froze with your hand on the fridge handle for a second, your head turning slowly until you could look at her from the corner of your eyes. For a moment she thought you were going to say something; your mouth opened slowly and she could see your wings shift against the harness under your jacket. But you quickly closed your mouth again and looked back into the fridge.

Nice try.

“I think I’m gonna go sit in the shower for a bit,” you said before closing the fridge. You hadn’t grabbed anything to eat.

She looked back down at her homework in defeat as you started walking off. It was well known that getting you to talk about anything going on in your head was a long shot. Rarely, if ever, did anyone get you to talk outside of your therapy or anger management sessions. Yes, part of her had hoped you would talk to her, but she hadn’t exactly been expecting it.

Wednesday was already cleaning up her things from the table when soft fingers pulled her chin. She hadn't heard you step closer. Her eyes met your warm ones and all thought faded from her mind. It used to concern her when that happened, but now she embraced it. All she could think about was you.

Your fingers scratched lightly against her jaw as your eyes flicked this way and that. Looking for something, most likely, but what, she had no idea. She was studying you as well, taking note of the dark bags under your eyes and the slightest downturn of your mouth. 

She didn't have to lean forward to meet you; you closed the entire distance yourself. Your lips were soft and tasted of one of the many chapsticks Bianca had gifted you a few months ago. Wednesday wanted to reach out and pull you closer, but kept her hands gripping the chair. There was no chance she was going to ruin the moment.

“Thank you for asking,” you mumbled against her lips once you pulled away slightly. You gave her one more light, quick kiss, your thumb rubbing against her jaw, before you stood back up. “I’ll be in bed soon.”

And you were, and you finally, thankfully, almost slept through the whole night.

Wednesday didn’t have to bring up getting you away for a time. She had planned on it, truly she had because Enid surprisingly had a point. But you came home the next day, slamming the door shut in a rare outward display of anger, grumbling about how Tio was sending you home for the next few weeks.

“Go with her,” Tio said on the phone when he asked to talk with Wednesday. “Keep her distracted.”

Which was exactly how Wednesday found herself on a bus only a few days later after her last final. You had all wished everyone a happy holidays, said you would call to keep everyone updated, and gotten on the bus. Of all the things she hadn’t expected, you picked a bus that stopped near her home with the intent of picking up Thing. Why? She had no idea, but you were insistent. The little menace hung out on your shoulder the rest of the bus ride to your town.

Everyone was still just as excited to see her as they were the first time. They all ran out to say their hellos, gave you their hugs - aside from Hailey who still looked bashful and almost a little guilty - and waved hellos to Wednesday from afar. She certainly appreciated it, and her racing heart slowed significantly.

The sleeping arrangements were similar to how they had been the previous summer with only one difference; your grandfather let you sleep in the room with Wednesday, Hailey, and Emily. A smart decision on his part, considering if he made you sleep on the couch, Wednesday was quickly going to follow suit. She was not afraid to start a battle of will against an old man. It didn’t matter that he was an esteemed vampire.

It wasn’t until night time on the first day that Wednesday visibly saw all of your energy dissipate until you were practically laying on top of her. She was facing you with her hands tucked up between the both of your chests. One of your wings hung off the side of the bed while the other covered you both like a blanket, keeping you warm from the cold and snow outside.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered only once you were sure the two girls on the other side of the room were fast asleep.

“It would be easier if you closed your eyes,” Wednesday whispered back. She closed her own eyes as an example.

“I can’t,” you said, your voice dropping even quieter, as if it was possible. “I see his body.”

You had some nerve to drop that piece of information in the middle of the night out of nowhere. Her eyes flew open to meet yours, barely visible in the darkness even after her own sight had readjusted. But she didn’t have to see you clearly to feel the stress weighing your wing down over her. It was almost suffocating.

“Is it…” you stopped, and she heard you huff. “Can I still talk about it?”

She almost had half a mind to tell you no. Not because she didn’t want to hear, but she hadn’t emotionally prepared herself to listen to someone talk about their problems, even if it was you. It took a great deal of effort to show the sympathies most people expected, and she couldn’t confirm the effort would be there. If you were going to finally open up, she wanted you to receive the amount of care as you would need.

On the other hand…

Wednesday nodded once, slowly, hoping you could see it because she didn’t think she could speak past the lump of anxiety now settling in the back of her throat. You shifted around, and her pulse accelerated when you moved away and stood up from the bed. Had you not seen her nod and now believed she didn’t wish to hear what you had to say?

But she felt your hand touch her shoulder and rouse her, gently ushering her off the bed. You took hold of her hand instantly and led her out of the room, closing the door just as quietly as usual before taking her downstairs. With the effectiveness of someone who did it on a regular basis, you opened the back and screen door at once until you both finally sat on the large porch swing.

There was a moment’s hesitation before you readjusted, sitting sideways on the swing and pulling Wednesday to sit between your legs. It was cold out, but you quickly pulled the blanket over her legs and wrapped your wings around her shoulders until she was practically sitting in a cocoon of warmth. The weight of your chin settled on her shoulder and she could feel your cool lips press against her skin in languid kisses before settling again.

“I see him when I close my eyes,” you said softly. Wednesday decided then to stay silent until you were done. “Discarded on the pavement like yesterday’s trash.”

You shifted behind her until she could feel your chest rising and falling underneath her. It was steady, but she could vaguely feel the increase in your heartbeat.

“I have nightmares about him,” you continued. “About killing him.” 

Your hand slid under her shirt until it was resting on her stomach and you could rub them over her skin.

“I’m standing in the alley and he’s talking to me, but I can’t say anything.”

Your breathing was faster on Wednesday’s back.

“I walk closer and he’s still talking until I-”

-She can hear your breath catch in your throat and your arms tighten around her waist. Your breath hit her neck and she felt the slightest tremble behind her. The feathers on your wings puffed up for a moment, almost unnoticeable to the untrained eye, before settling around her again.

“Dr. Williams says it’s because I feel guilty,” you finally mumbled. “Maybe he’s right.”

The grip you had on her waist loosened.

“Thank you for listening,” you whispered before pressing another kiss right behind Wednesday’s ear.

She turned around in your arms until she could look at you and see the slightly more relaxed look on your face. If she were being honest, you looked as if you had just let out years worth of anxiety. Did simply listening really help you that much? Was that really all it took? Should she say something in return?

She hoped a gentle kiss would suffice.

Your evident lack of anxiety quickly disappeared after a few days. Almost identical to the night your Tio had told you to go home, Wednesday heard you slam the door all the way from her seat beside Abuelita in the kitchen. It had been a nice, quiet day while you had been out doing some grocery shopping with your Momma.

But the way you stormed into the kitchen and quite literally threw things down on the counter told Wednesday it was not, however, a nice, quiet day.

“Picked up a fuckin’ stray,” you grumbled as you leaned against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest.

Wednesday didn’t have time to ask for clarification when your Momma and Ash walked into the kitchen with the rest of the groceries. The glare you sent Ash’s way was admirable, and Wednesday was almost impressed with the sheer vexation on your face.

“Hey Wednesday,” Ash said with a small smile and a half-hearted shrug that substituted a wave.

“Speak when spoken to,” you grumbled.

“You best behave, young lady,” your momma said with a pointed look at you. “She’s our guest.”

“She’s a pest,” you emphasised with another glare at Ash, who had the good sense to glare right back.

“Least I don’t have fleas,” Ash shot back at you.

“I got rid of those last week,” you argued.

“And the lice?”

“How dare you-”

-Wednesday didn’t bother sticking around the kitchen to listen to you both argue like children. Instead, she gave Abuelita a kiss on the cheek before moving to the common room where she sat beside Daniel on the couch. He was reading yet another book - another reason why he was her favourite - and was nice and silent.

Unlike you and Ash, who were still arguing in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” Daniel said when Wednesday frowned at how close Ash was standing next to you.

“What would I possibly be worried about?” She asked even as she continued to observe from afar.

You were both far too close.

“Y/N only loves you,” Daniel said, “and the thought of dating her again makes Ash sick.”

It was almost comical, but after hearing the revelation from Daniel, she supposed it made sense. There was something reminiscent of the way you interacted with Yoko. Petty, childish, at each other’s throats at all hours even though nothing was going to come of it.

“So are you staying?” You asked when all the adults had sat down at the table for dinner. The children were all off running around, causing trouble.

“Until I die,” Ash said without even looking up.

“Then you can sleep outside with the goats.”

“Told you to behave,” your Momma said. You grumbled something in reply that no one could hear. “What was that?”

“I said yes ma’am,” you said a little louder.

No one believed you.

That night, as you held Wednesday close and continued to gripe and complain about Ash being at the house, she almost wanted to smile. If she had known you were so capable of holding grudges, she would have found enemies for you long ago. There was something attractive about your adamant, effortless feud over something that, at that point in time, probably didn’t even matter.

“Don’t let me kill her,” you whispered. “I can’t go to jail again.”

Wednesday just pushed herself further into you and smiled in the dark for no one to see.

—Just Last Lifetime

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You didn't move after Tyler knocked you down, and it would've been over had Enid not come when she did. Wednesday stays beside your hospital bed diligently, hand tracing yours as she plans how to torture you for the rest of her life and how she looks forward to letting you plague her. But the moment you wake up, nothing will ever be the same again.

Warnings: Angst. Sad!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: wondering if I've lost my touch on angst 🥹 so I hope this makes you all suffer <3 Part 2 will be out next Wednesday!

Count: ~4.6k

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The smell of disinfecting spray, pine, and bleach filled Wednesday's noise. There are sounds of people briskly walking and doors sliding open and shut. A TV in the room is turned on at a low volume, meant to keep her distracted, but all she can focus on is that her chair is too squeaky. 

The taste of burnt coffee Enid brought her earlier has long been forgotten despite how it lingers on her tongue. 

Wednesday doesn't remember getting to the hospital. 

Well, she does—in bits and pieces. 

One moment, she was being strangled by Tyler in his hyde form, and the next, she was released, and you were on Tyler's back, arms wrapped around his large neck as you squeezed with everything you had and then some. 

But you were so small compared to Tyler, and the second he grabbed your arm and slung you around to face him, Wednesday knew it was over. He crushed your wrist, broke your elbow, and hung you like a ragdoll before whipping you into the nearest tree before Enid came and saved you both. 

Wednesday only briefly had a moment to check on you, to feel your weak pulse before she had to keep going, especially at Enid's wordless insistence that she would take care of you. 

And only because it was Enid that Wednesday left to take care of the rest of the job of killing Crackstone. 

It was only because it was Enid, who adored you nearly as much as Wednesday did, that she knew Tyler wouldn't be escaping mercifully, and Wednesday could go do what only she could do. 

But after that fight? After capturing Thornhill? Wednesday didn't stay to gloat. She turned and immediately returned to you, her heart feeling heavy, weighing her steps down when she found you exactly where she had left you.

Too scared, Enid said. She was too afraid to move you in case there was some serious damage. 

Wednesday doesn't remember the ambulance and the medics. She doesn't remember them carrying you on a stretcher into the vehicle. She does remember vaguely throwing out haunting threats if they didn't let her ride with you. 

Lucky, the doctor said. You were incredibly lucky that your gift of air manipulation softened the blow of your head against the tree, and you didn't die upon impact. 

Wednesday looks at you, how your head is wrapped around in bandages, and covers your eyes. The machines and tubes that are hooked up to you and assist in making your chest move up and down in almost too slow of breaths. She looks at the discoloration of the skin of your arms and legs and wants to scoff. 

Wednesday reaches out, her hand stopping just inches above yours. She hesitates, worried that even the weight of her small hands will hurt you. It's a familiar feeling she has now. 

Worry.

Consideration.

The depth of how she feels it is only meant for you.

Wednesday pulls her hand back, placing it back into her lap, where she holds her hands tightly together. 

It doesn't feel so lucky. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Why do you insist on following me?" Wednesday turned around, glaring at you while you came to a stop to avoid bumping into her. 

"Well," you tilted your head, smiling crookedly at the gloomy girl before you. "Why do you insist on being alone?"

It was already a bad sign that Wednesday was beginning to find the familiarity of your crooked smile something she wanted to keep for herself. 

Wednesday knew then that she should make you go away, that she should open her mouth and say the most horrific things that she knows could shred your heart and pride into nothing more than cuts of misery as a reminder you should stay away from her. 

But Wednesday didn't.  

"I'm meant to be alone," Wednesday warned you, Goody's words flashing through her mind as a warning—a condemnation. "I prefer to be alone."

"I don't think so," you shook your head. "I mean, I've followed you this far along. I think you've grown used to my presence."

"Growing used to something doesn't mean I'll miss it if it's gone."

You quirked your brow at Wednesday. "Do you want me to go then?"

Wednesday's eyes flickered away from your face, staring into nothing with her blank face before she looked back at you. 

Your crooked smile returned, and Wednesday clenched her jaw.

"No."

"Then, shall we continue on to investigate...wherever you're taking us?"

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Now.

The days drift and bleed together. Wednesday is a girl used to strict routines. Still, she's finding something rotting about her monotonous day that starts with waking early, getting her hour of writing in the morning, and attending classes (because Weems has bargained her attendance in exchange for a car to take her to and from the hospital every day after class and whenever she wanted on the weekends), sitting in the hospital chair for hours by your bedside, returning home, playing the cello, and going to bed. 

The silence has never bothered Wednesday before, but the lack of your voice—the way you teased her and laughed—Wednesday wants it back. 

The bruising on your arms is fading into something that's an even more gruesome color. She knows it's a sign of healing, but Wednesday remains true to the fact she hates colors.

Wednesday lifts her hand, tracing the lines of your hand so faint and delicately. If those who knew her saw her now, they'd never be able to believe that she was capable of such gentleness. 

You don't flinch. You never do. 

Wednesday can't tell if she's hurting you or not, but you've always been too capable of hiding your feelings and thoughts—perhaps Wednesday never knew all along if she was hurting you. 

The irony of Enid's words calling her out for her callousness and disregard for others rings so true now. 

Wednesday closes her eyes. If she closes them long enough, she can almost hallucinate hearing your voice laugh weakly and telling her it's not as bad as it looks. 

Wednesday opens her eyes, staring back down at your too-still body. 

But it was. It was that bad.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Did you fight with Enid?"

"That's none of your concern."

You laughed, and it sounded like the strings of her cello that carry during the late hours of the night. 

Wednesday worshipped the sound of her cello.

"Well, fair enough. I don't know why I asked since it's so clear from Enid's huffiness all day that you two clearly did fight. She's been ranting to Yoko and me non-stop that she's not returning to this room."

The words twinged in Wednesday's heart, plucking at its strings in an unfamiliar rhythm. 

"Good," Wednesday bit out anyway. "This room can finally look more dreary."

You smiled as you sat on Wednesday's bed while she sat at her desk. You hooked your feet at the legs of her chair and began to drag it until it was turned towards you before pulling her closer. 

Wednesday looked displeased, her lips pressed in a thin line, and her eyebrows knitted in uncompromising sternness. 

"Admit it, Wednesday," you said in a sing-song tone that Wednesday detested because you were about to say something ridiculous. "You feel alone, and it doesn't feel as good as you thought."

Your words pricked at her, but Wednesday remained stubborn. 

"Enid wasn't the only one in my company."

It was such a roundabout way of saying it; it made Wednesday want to roll her eyes into the back of her head and slice out her tongue.

You smiled wider. "I suppose not," you agreed with a conceding nod. Wednesday felt victorious, but the feeling was fleeting with your next words. "But every person is different and fills your life in an irreplaceable way. You must admit that Enid can't be replaced by another."

"And why must I admit that?" Wednesday glared, kicking your feet away from her chair. "I don't need Enid. I have Thing, and I have—" Wednesday's nose scrunched in displeasure. "You." 

You seemed adamant about shaking up her life ever since you entered it. Wednesday, particularly, was disturbed by the constant barrage of emotions you keep trying to drag her into. It was becoming a slippery slope. 

Wednesday's assault didn't seem to bother you as you kept your relaxed expression. 

"As flattering as it is to be the only person, with a body and head attached to my hand, that you need—"

"I didn't say I needed you."

"—You should make up with Enid. I know you miss her, Wednesday."

Wednesday said nothing. She wanted to spout curses at you and make you take back everything you were saying. So ridiculous. So...defeatingly correct.  

You grinned at her. 

"Surround yourself with people you appreciate, Wednesday. There's no way someone as lovely as you could be destined to be alone. Ravens are still known to feed with other flocks and play with the wolves, dogs, and otters."

"Did you just call me lovely?" Wednesday's lip curled in disgust.

You laughed. "Sorry, someone as hellishly morbid as you."

Wednesday let a rare smile slip. "Finally, a real compliment."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

It's just another day, but Wednesday can admit it to herself now.

It's easy now when you're unaware of anything around yourself for Wednesday to admit she appreciates you—more than appreciates you. 

Your weeks of silence have given Wednesday plenty of time on what she'll say when you wake up. Declarations that you belong with her and her treacherous heart belongs to you, so you will do well to treasure it. There might be interrogations about how you've managed to do it, but Wednesday knows the answer, even as simple and stupid as it sounds.

Time.

It was merely just time and your consistency by her side that lured Wednesday to you. 

Wednesday's palm lies flat against yours, her fingers slide down yours until they shift slightly to the side, and then she's holding your limp hand. 

Inane.

Waiting for you was entirely ridiculous and foolish, but nothing could convince Wednesday to be elsewhere. For once, she's at a loss at what else she could do besides wait. 

Wednesday's eyes trail over your face, taking in your long lashes pressed against your cheeks like an everlasting kiss. She takes in the bridge of your nose and down to your lips. 

They've been a little dry since the nurses aren't attentive to such things, so Wednesday has taken it upon herself to occasionally apply chapstick to your lips. 

It's such an intimate gesture, one she'd know you'd appreciate. Yet, you were solely unaware of it. 

Wednesday rests her cheek on the back of your hand while she still holds it. Her eyes flutter shut as she mumbles into the quiet room, "Wake up, so I can tell you that everything I am is yours."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"I don't like him."

"Who?"

You gave Wednesday a look with your brow raised. "Tyler, obviously."

"You can join the queue," Wednesday looked uninterested in your words. "There seems to be a long line."

"Shouldn't that be an obvious sign that he sucks?" You sighed but kept your eyes on the barista. "Why do you keep spending time with him?"

"There are plenty of people that don't like me, and I find myself to be far superior to most people," Wednesday flipped the page of her book, not quite paying attention to you. 

You look back at Wednesday with a lopsided smile. "I don't think people dislike you, Wednesday. I think they're scared of you."

"As they should be."

You let out another sigh. "So, I guess there's no convincing you that you should stop spending time with Tyler?"

"Do you have any sound reason other than 'his vibes are off'?"

"I don't like the way he looks at you," you spouted off immediately, looking at Tyler again with a reproachful look he seemed unaware of.

Wednesday scoffed, looking up at you. "You sound jealous." 

The words were meant to make you back off. Wednesday imagined that you'd scoff back at her and deny it in a way that would secretly make Wednesday think about late at night.

But then you looked right back at Wednesday with such a serious look in your eyes that made Wednesday clutch her book tightly in caution. 

"I am."

Wednesday had no idea what to make of your blunt words, so she merely turned her attention back to her book, wishing her braids would cover her ears more as they burned. 

It didn't stop Wednesday from spending time with Tyler, but now she kept thinking about you each time she did.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now. 

Wednesday is at the vending machine, staring blankly at the snacks and drinks. Enid insisted that she should stretch her legs and sent Wednesday on a mission to grab snacks for everyone. The werewolf had shoved money into her hand and practically pushed Wednesday out the door. 

Her own reflection stares back at her, and Wednesday admits that she looks worse than she normally does. It's subtle, and perhaps no one but Enid could tell how her eyes are sunken in a little more than usual. Her braids are not completely symmetrical, and the air around her is stale. 

Wednesday's about to put the money given to her into the machine when the phone in her pocket vibrates non-stop. The sensation of it makes Wednesday grimace as she pulls it out. Her eyes roam quickly over the words before she turns around and takes off back to your room. 

The vending machine was two floors down, and Wednesday ran up the stairs instead of taking the excruciatingly slow elevator. She's by no means unfit in any way, but the anticipation makes her breathless as she enters your room. 

Everyone in the room is waiting with bated breath as you shift in your bed, the air suddenly moving around in the room and creating a slight breeze. 

There's a small groan from your lips, and Wednesday is immediately at your side, grasping your hand in hers. The sudden contact makes the breeze disappear as you settle back into stillness. Your eyes flutter a couple of times before they open blearily. 

The room's harsh light blinds you momentarily, and Wednesday immediately uses her other hand and places it just inches above your head to shield you from the direct light. 

You open your eyes more easily, letting things come into focus. Wednesday watches as you seem slightly confused, and Enid rushes to your side, her head popping into view along with Wednesday's hand. 

Your bedside was slightly propped up, but Enid moved to press the button to slowly recline you up further so that you could see everyone. 

"You're awake!" Enid is half-yelling, trying to keep quiet because Wednesday would kill her if her yelling disturbed you in any way, but unable to contain her excitement. "How are you feeling? Should we call the doctor? I think Yoko already did. Oh my god, you're finally awake. The bruising looks like it's gone away for the most part, but now that you're up, it should get better quickly!"

"Jesus, Sinclair," Bianca drawls with a half-scowl. "Give her some breathing room. She's already got Wednesday up in her space, protecting her from the light like a knight in gothic armor."

Enid turns to glare at Bianca, but Wednesday doesn't pay attention to any of it. Her eyes are focused on yours. Your eyes are looking everywhere in the room, looking uncomfortable. Your eyes finally drift to Wednesday, and while they're undoubtedly your eyes, Wednesday feels something amiss. 

It's you...but not. 

The moment you lock eyes with Wednesday, you finally seem to notice that she's holding your hand, and you pull it away awkwardly. The action makes Wednesday slowly pull both her hands back to herself. 

Dread fills her.

You wince a little at the light fully unobstructed, but you adjust. 

"Enid?" You sound confused as you look at the blonde with pink and blue streaks in her hair.

"Yes!" Enid smiles at you, and you smile back unsurely. 

"Am I at the hospital?" You ask slowly, wincing as you touch your head softly and feel the bandage.

"Yeah..." Enid purses her lips. "What's the last thing you remember?"

You blink at the question, silent as you consider your answer. 

"I...I don't know," you eventually say. "I think at the library? People were making such a racket about the news, and I was trying to get away from all the noise in the quad."

Enid's brows furrow at the answer. That was too vague to determine anything. 

You swallow, turning your head to look at Wednesday, who has no expression, and for once, she knows you can't tell what she's really feeling.

"Um...you're the new girl, right?" You fiddle with your blanket awkwardly. "Wednesday, I think? Enid was excited about you arriving, and she'd finally have a roommate."

The words she's been saving for you die in her throat, leaving something hollow for her to swallow down.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Wednesday knew that the damage to your head was serious. However, she didn't think you'd lose a couple months' worth of your memories. 

Amnesia.

That's what the doctor said, but he couldn't determine whether you'd regain them. He seemed hopeful, and while your parents failed to show up and Weems stepped in as acting guardian, he spouted suggestions on how to help you regain them.

But then he also reiterated that it might not come back.

How utterly useless. 

You would be discharged in a few days, free to return to school, where you'd have to take it easy. 

Your roommate Yoko practically assigned herself to look after you since you'd be stuck in your dorm for a few days to fully recover. 

There was a moment when Enid was about to catch you up on everything, but Wednesday pulled her aside first. 

"Don't tell her about me," Wednesday orders.

"What?" Enid's jaw drops before she whisper-yells, "What do you mean?! I've been pulling my hair out for the last couple of months because of you two and you're finally about to get together and you want me to not tell her about it? It better be because you're going to."

Wednesday shakes her head. "She doesn't remember."

"Which is why we should tell her!" Enid is exasperated. 

"There's no point in telling her if she doesn't remember how she felt," Wednesday snaps back, trying to remain quiet. Her eyes peer past Enid's shoulder at you. You're talking with Yoko, staying cautious about Bianca and Xavier there but not saying anything about it. You look briefly at Wednesday as well, pursing your lips in what she thinks is a smile but can't really tell anymore. It's not a look you've given her before.

Wednesday looks back at Enid. "Just because she'll know doesn't mean she'll suddenly feel it again. The knowledge of it all might burden her instead, and I—" Wednesday clenches her jaw and fist tightly. "I don't want to risk that she'll feel burdened or obligated to me."

The words sting in a way Wednesday's not used to. 

There's no way for her to express to Enid that Wednesday wants you to know every possible way you love her. She wants you to feel it the way you forced her to. 

Despite Wednesday's extensive vocabulary, there are no words to describe the desperation that lingers under her skin, clawing around with desire with how she just wants you to look at her and know. 

Enid takes in her roommate's bitter expression and sighs, relenting. "Fine. I won't tell her exactly what went on between you two—not that I fully know anyhow. I'll just tell her that you were friends. That will at least explain why you're at the hospital."

Wednesday nods stiffly, and Enid lifts her hands towards the other girl's shoulder, hesitating briefly before placing her hand on Wednesday comfortingly. Wednesday allows it briefly before shrugging it away, and the two of them return to your bedside. 

You smile at Enid, eyes trailing over to Wednesday's curiously, and it brings her some comfort.

After all, everything started with your curiosity. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"So, we're friends?" You ask slowly, taking in Wednesday's stiff sitting posture. There was a distinctive space between the two of you, and you had your legs crossed, slanted away from her.

A couple of weeks have passed, and it was in the midst of winter. Despite Enid regaling the last couple of months to you, Wednesday hasn't had much opportunity to see you. In the same breath, you didn't seem to be seeking out Wednesday's company for answers, either.  

The only reason Wednesday was sitting with you now was because both Yoko and Enid were busy with their after-school activities, and you needed help going to the library to catch up on your studies. 

It became clear quickly that because you didn't remember getting closer to Bianca and Xavier, you were uncomfortable being alone with either of them. 

So, Wednesday was quick to volunteer despite you still remaining uncomfortable at the suggestion. 

"It's fine," Yoko reassured you. "Wednesday excels in all her classes and can definitely help you."

It had felt like a jagged knife slowly ripped across Wednesday's heart that you needed to be reassured to be alone with her. 

It feels like that cut was endlessly bleeding, unable to stitch itself back together while you remained ignorant about her, about yourself, about everything. This heart that Wednesday caged in for so long was finally free and yours…and you didn’t even want to hold it. 

"Yes," Wednesday confirms, despite how the words feel stale on her tongue. 

The library was, for the most part, empty, leaving the two of you with privacy. Wednesday was helping you catch up on assignments and going through lessons until you determined you needed a break. 

Now, you seem to be asking for answers nonchalantly, as if you were only asking because there happened to be an opportunity—not because you were interested in actually knowing. 

"We must've been pretty close if I was willing to tag along with you during these seemingly dangerous investigations, and even willing to take a hit for you," you comment thoughtfully as you consider what you've been told.

"I suppose," Wednesday bites out. 

"Did we do anything else than risk our lives together?" You ask, and Wednesday grips the pen she'd holding tighter. 

Sometimes—when you're not talking and focused on something else—it feels like nothing has changed. Or at least, Wednesday can pretend nothing changed. 

But it was moments like these, where you look at her like she's nothing but a stranger and ask these questions, that she becomes acutely aware that nothing has been the same since you woke up.

Wednesday takes a quiet deep breath before she answers. "We studied—like this. You often kept me company while I wrote or played my cello."

"Oh, those are pretty cool hobbies. And I just sat there?"

Wednesday nods. "Sometimes you'd paint Thing's nails."

"Thing?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

Wednesday closes her eyes and sighs.

"Sorry," you mumble. "It must be hard for you that I don't remember anything."

You sound genuinely sorry about it, but there's an underlying tone that suggests you feel sorry for Wednesday, not that you're aching to remember yourself. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"No investigating tonight."

Your voice was firm as you blocked Wednesday's way from the door. The goth girl raised her brow at you but said nothing as she waited for you to continue talking. 

"We have a test and a paper due tomorrow and I know you haven't started."

"I can finish it before you even finish showering," Wednesday drawled. "And I don't need to study. These classes are incredibly rudimentary, and I've learned it all before I even started attending school."

You rolled your eyes, but Wednesday caught you smiling with amusement. "Wonderful, Matilda. That means you can help me study and read over my paper then."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the nickname, but you were already walking inside her room, shutting the door behind you. 

"And if I say no?" 

You hummed in thought. "Then I'll hint at Xavier that you want him to ask you to hang out."

"You don't want to live anymore?" Wednesday threatened. 

"If you're going to be like that, I'll have to make it worth my while and tell him you've got feelings for him," you smiled.

"Feelings of aggravation," Wednesday muttered, dropping her backpack with a grunt and walking back to her desk. She looked at you pointedly, and you made your way over and set your things down.

"I imagine even your blunt rejection will make him think you're in denial," you laughed.

"You must want Xavier to die," Wednesday deadpanned. "You can simply ask me without making disturbing threats."

"I thought you liked threats," you smirked. 

"I'm both revolted and delighted by it," Wednesday admits with a sigh through her nose. "At the very least, delighted you know how to make them."

Wednesday pulled Enid's chair from her desk across the room and offered it to you. "Since you've decided to be a nuisance in my investigations tonight, we won't be done until you've gotten every single practice question correctly and I can be assured you'll be getting 100% on both your test and paper."

You grimaced slightly. "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

Wednesday smiled in a truly wicked way. "Let's begin."

Wednesday didn't say anything about how your calf rested against hers the entire night, and you said nothing about how she didn't move away once. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The days are passing by again, drifting and bleeding together. Instead of watching your motionless body and waiting for your recovery, Wednesday watches you walk about, carrying on with your life...without her. 

You seem fine if you have to spend time with Wednesday, but you don't seek her out on your own. It was becoming apparent you were uninterested in her. 

The knowledge of it is something Wednesday can't admit because it feels like abandonment. The idea of it has crescent-shaped dents pressed into her palms from clenching her fist so tightly.

You're content to spend your days laughing with Yoko at the cafeteria, finding comfort in the vampire as the only thing that seemed to remain consistent as your roommate and friend. 

"Don't give up," Enid encourages when she stands next to Wednesday, who is watching you from a distance. "She's just...anxious. She won't admit it, but she's scared. Everything around her has suddenly changed; the only thing that's remained the same is Yoko."

It was annoying. If anything, it should be a testament that Yoko experienced no growth during the hectic months.

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday said, unable to remove her eyes from you.

Wednesday can't give up on you. You've invested far too much time into her, and everything you've done to her is irreversible now. 

You're unaware of it, but Wednesday loves you...that wasn't going to suddenly change. 

And just as you've used time and consistency to lure Wednesday towards you, she would do the same. She just needed to jumpstart your brain into remembering. But even if you didn't, she just needed to redo it over again.

It was still possible. You were still hers, even if you didn’t know it. You had to be because the alternative—

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday reiterates. 

"What are you going to do?" Enid asks unsurely. 

A plan starts to formulate in Wednesday's head. 

"Recreate the memories."

Part 2 (5/17/2023)

everyone but her pt.27

Summary: Wednesday spends a few days with you, the older siblings, Thing, and Ash. It's certainly a trip to remember, even if it doesn't entirely go as planned.

Word Count: 5k Warnings: swearing, talk of grief Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove

"You're not going," you said with finality.

Wednesday sighed and placed another card down on the table even though she knew it was useless. As much as she despised the fact, Abuelita was humiliating her at Conquian, and even after two hours she still had yet to see any sort of victory. Damn the old woman for her hidden skill at the game. She was just thankful you were too busy arguing with Ash - again - to notice her disgrace.

“Your Pop said I could,” Ash said without a care in the world. She hadn’t even bothered to stop packing food for the short winter camping trip. Thing nudged over another water bottle as well.

The fact that no one in your family had even mentioned the curiosity that was Thing was astounding.

“And Pop’s the boss on this trip, is he?” You asked. You, Wednesday noticed, were doing nothing to help pack.

“Yes he is,” Pop said as he walked through the kitchen door, trailing snowy footprints behind him.

“You’re not even going,” you grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest. Something that Wednesday was realising you did when you were “pitching a fit,” as your grandfather put it.

"The point of this trip is for all of y'all to get away from life for a bit,” he said. He gently patted Thing like a dog before handing Ash another bag. “Ash deserves that too, don’tcha think?”

You nodded your head and looked down at the floor. To the untrained eye, it looked like you were genuinely thinking about the question. But Wednesday did not have an untrained eye, and she didn’t even try to stop the small smile from creeping up on her face.

“No,” you said softly with a shake of your head. “No, she doesn’t.”

“You dick,” Ash said, quickly throwing out a backhand that connected with your cheek with a solid *smack*.

“This is why you’re not going,” you said as you retaliated with a hit to the arm.

Wednesday just smiled and looked back down at the table. Her smile quickly fell, however, when she saw Abuelita beat her once again. The old woman’s kind smile was taunting, like she knew exactly what she was doing. Which, clearly, she did. It was admirable, Wednesday would admit that.

You were still arguing with Ash when Alex, Hailey, and Daniel came into the kitchen, all carrying some assortment of bags. Daniel’s was the smallest, with him being the only Outcast without some sort of strength. Then Hailey and Alex carrying what appeared to be three peoples’ worth of equipment. Either you had all done this numerous times before, or it was your first time. She didn’t know which one she preferred.

“I don’t think I’ve got enough blood,” Alex said while walking over to the fridge. Now that shut you up.

“What?” You asked, your eyes flicking quickly between your Pop, Alex, and the fridge.

“How much you got left?” Your Pop asked. He didn’t even glance in your direction.

“Two days?” Alex answered with a shrug. “Maybe three if I stretch it.”

“Doesn’t Grandpa have some?” You chimed in. A feather fell from your now-puffed up wings.

“He gave me the last of his already,” Alex said.

You went silent; that was never a good thing. Wednesday eyed you as you chewed on your bottom lip and looked at the floor. Your arms unfolded so you could grasp the edge of the counter, your fingers drumming incessantly against the wood. Each twitch of your wings matched the gears that were inevitably turning in your mind.

"We'll have more when you get back," your Pop said, and Alex nodded in acknowledgement before continuing to pack up snacks. "You hear me, Y/N?" Pop asked, louder than necessary.

You hummed noncommittally.

"Y/N," your Pop said, almost yelling. Your eyes finally met his. "I ain't gonna see your face on the news before I get more." You didn't say anything. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," you said quickly. Far too quickly.

"Let us parents take care of it," Pop said in a softer voice. Everyone else in the kitchen was doing their best not to openly eavesdrop. "Just be a kid for a few days."

You held his gaze, but lowered your eyes first with a sigh. Wednesday had been witness to your frustration with the world numerous times especially, but this one seemed different. It was like you knew you couldn't win, and you had let the weight continue to rest heavy on your shoulders anyway. Like Atlas carrying the world, you carried the desperation to keep everyone safe and happy.

She would need to make sure you didn't kill for more blood.

Or maybe she would let it happen. She wasn’t entirely sure yet.

The rest of the morning was spent packing. Food, games, clothes, whatever else you all could think of. Wednesday had offered to help, but you quickly pushed her back down at the table and ordered her to continue playing with Abuelita. Under normal circumstances she would have dared to argue, but the clear tenseness in your shoulders had her sitting politely.

“Okay, last minute necessity check,” you said once everything was packed and ready to go. “Alex, got your sunglasses?”

“Check.”

“Hailey, got your stress ball?”

“Yup.”

“Dani, got your books?”

“Affirmative.”

“Wednesday, got Thing?”

“Of course.”

“Ash…” you eyed her up and down with the slightest sneer on your lips. “Alright, let’s head out.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ash mumbled before shoving you aside and heading out the back door. “Bye everyone!”

You and Wednesday both let the kids go first, each of them calling out their goodbyes while your Grandpa came into the kitchen to usher you all out. Wednesday exited first, turning around just in time to see your Grandpa hand you something. Something in a long bag. Two long bags.

“Keep them safe,” he said to you, only too softly for Wednesday to hear. “At all costs.”

“Yes sir,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back and nodded once.

“Have fun,” he concluded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before walking away.

“Come back down before the snowstorm,” your Momma called out when everyone got off the porch and stepped into the thin layer of snow that would quickly grow over the next few days.

“Yes Momma,” you all chimed, aside from Wednesday and Ash.

“And don’t track snow in that cabin!” Your Momma called out again.

“Yes Momma!” The unisoned call rang again, this time accompanied by half-hearted waves in the air.

After the first 20 minutes of the small hike, Wednesday was more than thankful that your Momma had gotten her some true boots to make the journey in. Unlike you, your Momma at least gave her a heads up that the hike would be around three hours long, barring any rest stops. If you had warned her, she probably would have told you to go on your own.

Which was most likely precisely why you hadn’t told her.

“Why are we staying so far away from your house?” Wednesday asked once you had started hanging back beside her.

“Because it’s-”

“-Because Y/N thinks Bigfoot lives up here,” Hailey cut you off instantly.

“He does live up here,” you corrected. “But the cabin is a perfect place to get away.”

“And why is that?” Wednesday continued. It disgusted her that she was so willing to ask simple questions around someone other than you. When exactly had you lowered her defenses?

“It used to be Grandpa’s old deer hunting cabin,” Alex said from where he was leading the group.

“A bit derelict now,” Daniel chimed in before pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“Sometimes there’s a bear,” Hailey also commented.

“She gets it,” you said, a little louder than necessary. “The point is, it’s a safe space for Outcasts.”

You looked at Ash with another sneer.

“And Ash, I guess.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of running your mouth?” Ash called back; she was up front with Alex.

“Absolutely not,” you said. Wednesday felt the brush of your feathers as your wings ruffled at the comment.

The banter continued for the entire three hour hike. Wednesday was almost impressed with how much you all could talk without a single pause or break. It was almost as if there was a constant stream of conversation; once someone stopped, someone else picked right back up where they had left off. None of it was even necessary conversation, simply talking just to hear your own voices.

At one point you had tried to hold Wednesday’s hand during the hike. It was warm and a little clammy from the effort, but she enjoyed the comfort of it. Until you reached the incline section of the hike, and you both needed your hands to continue the trek. You hadn’t warned her of that part, either.

It was just starting to get dark when you all finally reached the cabin. Daniel was correct; it was a bit derelict in appearance. The roof was sagging slightly near the far left corner and the chimney was missing a few bricks. Occasional work was evident on the outside of the cabin, with new wood on top of the old in a forestry themed patchwork quilt.

“Take my bag,” you said. 

Before Wednesday could question who you were talking to, Alex stepped forward as you knelt to the ground and unzipped the long bag your Grandpa had handed you. Her curiosity was quickly sated when you pulled out a rifle and stood up, looking it over and placing a single bullet into the chamber. While you did that, Alex took the empty bag and the other two bags you had shrugged off your shoulders.

“Don’t shoot Bigfoot,” Ash teased as she made her way to the front door of the cabin.

“I would never,” you whispered more to yourself than to her. “The kids will show you where to put everything,” you said, looking up to meet Wednesday’s eyes. “Get settled and I’ll be back soon.”

You looked around for only a second before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She had to fight the urge to chase after you when you pulled away, but she managed. You gave her a smile, a genuine smile, before resting the rifle in your arms and walking off into the woods. Wednesday waited until she lost sight of you before letting Thing nudge her toward the cabin.

It was far cozier inside and looked nothing like a deer hunting cabin. The walls were warm, painted different colours with different murals on each wall. Numerous shelves lined the walls and were covered in books and knick knacks of all kinds; she wondered what the significance was. There were worn couches and cots and chairs and the kitchen branched out and it looked… well, it looked like a home.

Thing climbed down to the floor and quickly made his way to where Hailey was placing bags down near the couch. For one reason or another, he had taken a liken to her almost immediately, and she to him. There was something endearing about knowing that your family accepted him and even liked him. Yet another positive mark for your family; they continued to blow her expectations out of the water.

“You can place your bag over here,” Daniel said as he guided Wednesday over to the larger cot in the room. “Y/N likes to keep an eye on the door.”

“What is she doing now?” Wednesday asked, setting her small bag on the cot.

“Checking for unwanted visitors,” he said with a shrug. “Or Bigfoot.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Or the were-bear.”

“Were-bear?” She asked.

“It’s real!” Alex called from across the room.

“It is not,” Hailey scoffed.

“I don’t know, Hail,” Ash chimed in. “If werewolves exist, why can’t were-bears?”

“Because that’s just something Y/N made up,” she said.

“I think they’re real,” Alex said.

“Just wait until one of them comes to get you in the middle of the-”

-the front door was thrown open and all three kids screamed.

“Fuck!” You called out as you stepped into the cabin with snow covering your hair. “What are you screaming for?”

“They believed you were a were-bear,” Wednesday answered.

“Don’t tell her that,” Hailey whined. It was very similar to Enid’s; perhaps it was a werewolf thing.

“You’re all a bunch of cowards,” you said before kicking the door shut behind you.

“Find your boyfriend?” Ash asked, making Wednesday’s heart jump for only a second before she caught onto the barely noticeable smirk on the other woman’s face.

“No,” you grumbled as you placed the rifle on a rack above the door frame. High enough to be out of reach of anyone else, Wednesday realised. Clearly you had done this numerous times in the past.

Everyone continued unpacking their things while you toed off your boots and left them on a makeshift drying rack by the door. Your wings were tucked closer to your body than usual, the only true indication that you were cold. A slight struggle to get your coat off and hang it by the door, and then you padded your way over to where Wednesday was standing and did the unthinkable.

You picked her up and threw her over your shoulder like a kidnapping victim.

“Grandpa said no sex in the cabin!” Hailey called out.

“That’s a rule?” Ash asked.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “you barely even know what sex is.”

“I know what it is-”

“-I’m just going to bed!” You interrupted as you unceremoniously dumped Wednesday onto the cot before falling after her. “God, you guys are ridiculous.”

“No thoughts of sex,” Daniel said from his own cot. He was already in his pyjamas and reading a book. “She’s clean.”

“I hope the were-bear eats you all in your sleep,” you threatened. Your arms wrapped tightly around Wednesday’s waist and pulled her closer.

“I almost wish I had stayed with your Momma,” Ash mumbled to herself.

“I wish you had too,” you said softly, and Wednesday hid her face in the pillow so no one could see her smile.

Everyone got settled in their cots while you just held on to Wednesday. No one seemed to be getting ready to sleep, more like they were just relaxing. It was an unusual situation in Wednesday’s mind, as there was no need to be in bed if you were not going to sleep. But she supposed she could give it a try.

“It’s cold,” Ash said.

“That’s just your frozen heart,” you said from where you were resting your chin on Wednesday’s shoulder.

You were quickly removed when Wednesday moved aside before you were expertly hit in the face with a pillow.

“Thing says it’s cold too,” Hailey said, and Wednesday saw Thing cuddled not only on her pillow, but under his own blanket as well. He was getting spoiled.

“You’re all a bunch of babies,” you said, but Wednesday could feel your single shiver.

You were going to be stubborn. Whatever was in your head about not letting anyone know you were cold, you were going to be stubborn and refuse to do anything about it. Even as Wednesday felt another shiver wrack your body and your arms tightened around her waist once again, you stayed firm in your refusal to admit defeat.

In an uncharacteristic display of care, Wednesday gave you an out.

“I believe I’m rather cold as well,” she said.

“Shit, okay, I’ll start a fire,” you said before immediately getting up from the cot and going over to the fireplace.

“You’re such a simp-”

“-I will throw you into this fire,” you said with the fire poker pointed at Ash. She didn’t appear to be even the least bit intimidated.

“You haven’t even started it yet, asshole.”

“Ash I swear-”

“-stop thinking of murder,” Daniel interrupted you both. “It’s giving me a headache.”

With a single huff, you turned back around to the fireplace and continued lighting it. Admittedly, you looked like an expert at the act, getting the fire started within moments of trying. Wednesday spent only a few seconds watching you, watching the light from the fire illuminate your face before grabbing her bag and standing up.

Daniel pointed in the direction of the bathroom without uttering a single word.

Wednesday liked Daniel.

By the time she came out of the bathroom ready for bed, you were sitting on the cot with a book. It appeared you had simply changed in the singular room of the cabin, and though she didn’t like the thought of Ash having seen it, she supposed it wasn’t the worst thing. After all, the way your face lit up when she sat down beside you once again was more than enough proof of where your loyalties were.

The next two days were relaxing, to say the least. The cabin itself wasn’t huge, and there was a sense of claustrophobia given how many people were staying in it, but not once was it uncomfortable. You all had brought card and board games, a guitar, a few books. For lunch you made everyone things to snack on and stunning meals for dinner.

Alex made sure to poke his fun when Wednesday was surprised that you could cook.

The evening of the last day was where the issue came up.

“I’m itchy,” Hailey said as everyone sat around the fireplace, cards strewn all around in a poor attempt at playing Poker.

“You didn’t eat any of the mushrooms, right?” You asked as you moved your cards around. “I don’t think I put them in your dinner.”

“No,” she said. Wednesday took note of the deep red scratch marks she was leaving on her neck. “But I’m itchy.”

Your brows furrowed as you finally looked up at Hailey, and Wednesday did the same. The poor girl was scratching like her life depended on it, leaving welts all over her skin. From her neck to her arms to her legs, she just couldn’t get herself to stop. She whined occasionally, a pitiful whine that Wednesday imagined only truly came from a pup.

“Just itchy?” You asked with a slight tilt of your head. Wednesday could see the gears turning behind your eyes.

“My joints hurt too,” Hailey said with another scratch on the back of her neck.

You looked at her for a few more seconds before your eyes grew wide.

“Daniel?” You asked, not looking at him but turning your head to hear him better. “Is it Thursday?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. Everyone had given up on their card game. “Why?”

“Okay, Hailey baby, let’s go,” you said, standing up quickly and holding your hand out for her to take.

“Why?” She asked but took your hand anyway.

“Tonight is the full moon,” you said as you started dragging her to the front door and putting your boots on.

“I thought that was next week?” Alex inquired.

“It’s tonight,” you said, “and I forgot we wouldn’t be home before the full moon.”

“Do you need anything?” Ash asked.

“Just stay in here,” you said as you pulled your oversized coat over your wings. “We’ll run it out and be right back.”

“Go kill a deer for me,” Alex called out before you could both leave. “I ran out of blood this morning.”

You turned and gave him a death glare before pushing a still-itching Hailey out of the cabin, leaving everyone else there.

“She’s okay, Thing,” Daniel said, and Wednesday finally noticed how sad the animated hand looked. “She doesn’t wolf out for very long.”

Thing tapped against the ground a few times before making his way over to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. The younger boy placed his cards on the ground and went over to his cot where he picked up his book and continued reading. Alex scooped up the cards and started shuffling while Ash sighed and went to the small kitchen.

And for the first time that trip, Wednesday was unsure of what to do.

“Do you think she’ll get me a deer?” Alex asked; he was laying down the cards for a game of Solitaire.

“Of course she will,” Ash scoffed. “She’s a bleeding heart.”

“And she’s making up for Mack,” Daniel chimed in. The name caught Wednesday’s attention.

“Why do you say that?” Wednesday asked.

“She thinks it’s her fault he got killed,” he said with a shrug. “Her exact thinking was if she hadn’t given him money or sent him home early, he would still be alive.”

Well now. That certainly explained a lot about your reaction to the whole situation. She knew you had been close with the man anyway, but not that there was a guilt factor to add to it. It would also explain the nightmares you had each night. If you felt it was your fault, your subconscious would show you how it was your fault. Things were clicking into place.

“You don’t seem surprised about that,” Ash said as she sat down on the floor beside Wednesday, almost too close for comfort. She handed over another bowl of the stew you had made for dinner.

“I’m not,” Wednesday said simply. “I’m aware of her tendency to blame herself.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” Ash sighed. “She’s a self-sacrificing piece of shit.”

“It’s admirable,” Wednesday defended even though she didn’t necessarily disagree.

“It’s gonna get her killed one day,” Ash continued, turning to look Wednesday in the eye. She was a few inches taller, even sitting.

“You have a certain animosity toward her,” Wednesday said after taking a bite of stew. “Have you always?”

“Not always,” she said with a small smirk. “She used to be fun.”

“No she didn’t,” Alex chimed in.

“Okay, she used to not worry so much,” Ash corrected.

“What happened?” Wednesday asked.

You had yet to properly explain anything to Wednesday in relation to Ash. Not that she expected an explanation, the past was the past and even Daniel had confirmed there wasn’t a single thought of her in your head. But Wednesday was nothing if not a curious being, and if you wouldn’t tell her, then she would go straight to the source.

“Nicky happened,” Ash said with a sigh. The air in the room got heavy as both boys stilled for a moment. “She blamed herself and then got angry and pushed everyone away.”

“Given the circumstances, it’s understandable,” Wednesday said slowly.

“Yeah it was,” Ash clarified. “But when the person you love pushes you away and refuses to let you help, you give up.”

Wednesday didn’t like the usage of that word.

“You loved her?” She asked even though she had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Still do,” Ash said with a subconscious nod of her head. Her eyes darted toward Wednesday before growing wide. “Not like that though!” She tried to clarify.

Wednesday stayed silent and blinked slowly.

“That sounds really bad,” Ash sighed. “I love her, but I don’t like her,” she said slowly, clearly thinking of her words before saying them. “I would rather die than try to be with her again.” Wednesday stayed silent. “But I care if she’s safe and happy.”

None of Ash’s words were making Wednesday feel much better. It was an unusual feeling.

“That’s still bad,” Ash huffed. “Dani, help me out.”

“There’s nothing but disgust in her head when Y/N is around,” the younger boy said; he waited for Thing to tap his shoulder before turning the page of his book.

“You believe my girlfriend is disgusting?” Wednesday asked with a singular raised brow.

“I said help me, not crucify me,” Ash spat out at Daniel, who did nothing but hide his smile behind his book.

Wednesday was very much enjoying this situation.

“Listen,” Ash started with her hands held out in front of her. “End of the day, I want the nerd to be happy. And you make her happy.” She exhaled through her nose. “Very happy.”

Wednesday simply continued to stare at Ash. The woman squirmed under her gaze and quickly looked around the room instead, doing her best to take the attention off of her. She took note of Wednesday’s refusal to look away and huffed.

“I don’t want your girlfriend!” She said a little too loud. “She’s an insufferable dick and I want nothing more than to push her in front of a bus.”

Wednesday blinked once.

“I know,” she finally said, fighting back the smile when Ash’s jaw dropped. “She’s loyal to a fault.”

“You’re both dicks,” Ash said with a pointed look, “and you both deserve each other.”

Both Alex and Daniel tried to hide their laughter, but nevertheless failed. Ash tried to throw pillows at the both of them, which caused them to laugh even harder. Even Wednesday had to turn her head to hide her smile, not wanting them to know that their antics were… enjoyable.

The five of them gathered around the fireplace once again and attempted to play Go Fish, but ultimately gave up once it was far too late into the night. They got settled for bed and aside from Wednesday, everyone was quick to fall asleep. It would be a long trek back home tomorrow morning before the storm, and they were going to be well rested for such a trip.

Wednesday was still awake when the front door of the cabin creaked open slowly and boots and bare feet stepped onto the wooden floor. The door quietly clicked shut and shuffling was heard before a sigh could be heard. She wanted to look toward the door but decided in the moment to pretend to be asleep.

“Think it’s enough blood?” Hailey’s accented whisper reached Wednesday’s ears.

“Should get him through tomorrow,” you whispered back, “and I’ll find more after that.”

You both walked around before Wednesday heard the lonely couch creak under your weight. Heavy breathing mixed with the crackling of the fire that was turning into embers. It was a relaxing sound, and even though Wednesday couldn’t tell who was breathing so loudly, it reminded her that she wasn’t alone. A thought that was surprisingly welcome.

“Y/N?” Hailey asked, her voice still quiet enough to not wake anyone up, but just loud enough for Wednesday to listen to.

“Yeah?” You answered.

“Do you miss Nicky?”

You stayed silent for a moment, long enough for Wednesday to wonder if you had even heard the younger girl.

“Yeah,” was all you said.

“Me too,” Hailey said. “I miss him a lot.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, me too.”

“He was supposed to wake up,” Hailey continued before Wednesday heard a sniffle. “Why didn’t they let him wake up?”

Silence followed the question. Wednesday could only imagine what was running through your head; she didn’t know the full extent of what had happened with Nicky, but she knew the important parts. Your parents had decided to cut off life support for unknown reasons. No one could have predicted such a thing.

“Sometimes people just do bad things,” you said.

“Are you mad at them?” She asked.

“Yes,” you said without an ounce of hesitation. “Yes I am.”

“I am too,” Hailey said.

She had no clue of the amount of hatred Wednesday could hear in your tone. It was a hatred she rarely heard from anyone, but she knew what it sounded like. The slightest shake, the conviction in your words, it was beyond evident to her. She wanted nothing more than to go over and comfort you, but she also knew you needed to have this talk with Hailey.

“Y/N?” Hailey asked.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t wish it had been you,” she said softly.

A beat of silence.

“I know,” you said softly.

“Pop got me a therapist,” Hailey continued. “She thinks I was looking for an outlet.” Silence. “I’m sorry.” A sniffle. “Can you forgive me?”

The couch shifted.

“Of course I do,” you said softly before Wednesday heard the hushed sound of a kiss. “But next time you swipe at me, I’m getting you declawed.”

“Ash was right,” Hailey said with another sniffle, “you’re a dick.”

“Don’t say that word,” you said, accompanied by the slightest chuckle. “Now go to sleep. We have a long walk tomorrow.”

“Okay.” The couch creaked again. “I love you.”

Silence.

“I love you too.”

“Good night.”

“Good night, Hail.”

Wednesday could hear one of the cots creak - like every other piece of furniture in the cabin - before you finally got up from the couch. Your feet thumped against the floor, getting louder and louder the closer you got, before the cot shifted underneath Wednesday as you added your weight to it. Your arm instantly wrapped around her waist before you finished shifting and settling in.

“Wends?” You whispered by her ear before following up with a kiss to her neck.

Wednesday didn’t answer you, opting instead to turn around in your arms until she could face you. Even though your back was to the fire and she couldn’t see your face, she could smell the metallic tint of blood. Your hand rubbed circles on her back as you held her close, and she returned the favour by slipping her hands under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

You shivered from the touch of her cold skin.

The muscles in your stomach jumped as you bent down to press a lingering kiss to her lips. Yours were cold and chapped, likely from being outside in the snow with Hailey. But they were yours, and they had Wednesday’s heart racing and her stomach doing somersaults. You tasted slightly of blood, but it quickly eased when you pulled away.

“I love you,” you whispered against her lips.

Wednesday tucked her head between your collar and jaw and left a single kiss on your neck.

You knew what it meant.

everyone but her pt.28

Summary: A New Year's frat party, an old acquaintance, and a massive hangover. What better way to ring in the new year?

Word Count: 5.4k Warnings: swearing, bullying, slight homophobia, violence, blood mention Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove

Wednesday didn’t think she had ever seen anyone as comically furious as you.

She knew you had an exceptionally convincing pout; she had been on the receiving end of it more times than she could count. Your lip stuck out just enough to seem pitiful without seeming ridiculous. Add to that the watery eyes you could create on command? Anyone would have fallen for it.

But this was simply ridiculous., and if she hadn’t been on a bus with numerous people, she would have laughed at you.

At the very back of the bus, sitting in the three seats, were Wednesday, you, and Ash. Ash who, as it turned out, was a student at the same university as everyone else and who, even more comically, decided to sit next to you on the bus back to town. All of this simply to leave you a pouting, fuming mess with your arms crossed over your chest like a scolded child.

Wednesday wanted to be upset about the fact that Ash would be sticking around. If all the things Enid had told her and shown her were true, people didn’t like their partners’ exes. By all accounts, she shouldn’t like Ash either; her closeness to you would be worrying to most. But Wednesday couldn’t deny she had grown fond for the woman over the past two weeks.

Not to mention the way she teased you ceaselessly was rather entertaining.

Your wings were tucked safely into your harness on the ride back to the city. Something you had done before Nicky, but now you were adamant about it. No wings out in the vehicle, no matter how far away from the driver or how big the vehicle was. Even Ash had kept her mouth shut when you had pulled the harness tight enough to leave indents in your skin.

“Why can’t you go to school somewhere else?” You asked halfway through the trip. Wednesday’s eyes never strayed from her book, though she felt you gently squeeze the other hand you were holding.

“I went to school there first, dipshit,” Ash commented. She, too, was refraining from looking at you, instead opting to keep her eyes closed as she rested her head against the window. “Y’all didn’t get there till a year later.”

“Just transfer to a different school,” you said softly. Thankfully there weren’t very many people on the bus to listen in on your childish argument.

“Too bad,” she said, “you’ve gotta put up with me a little longer.”

“This world is a nightmare,” you whispered to yourself as you threw your head back against the headrest.

The rest of the ride went by smoothly. Your leg bounced and your fingers drummed against Wednesday’s palm, yet you stayed silent. At some point you had been on your phone; playing a game, reading something, talking to someone, Wednesday didn’t know and she didn’t necessarily care. As long as it kept you distracted from the fact that you were in a vehicle, she wouldn’t ask too many questions.

You carried both yours and her bag on the walk back to the dorm from the bus station. Ash had bid her goodbye - after giving Wednesday her phone number and address in case of emergencies - and you mocked her before dragging Wednesday away. It was immature, absolutely ridiculous, and yet you were smiling as you walked away.

“Why must you continue this childish feud?” Wednesday asked when you grabbed her hand and squeezed gently.

“It’s fun,” you said with a shrug and a twinkle in your eye.

Ajax and Kent were already sitting on the couch in the common room when you both got back to the dorm. You all bid each other hello on your way to the bedroom, quickly dropping everything on the floor before falling to the bed. Though Wednesday took her time, she ended up doing the same and letting you wrap your arms around her waist.

“We should do something for New Year,” you said. You were laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling with dull eyes. Wednesday knew that look; she didn’t like it.

“I believe Enid, Yoko, and Divina will be back tomorrow,” she said in reply. “THey will most likely be interested in doing something as well.”

“Think there’s a frat party,” you said. “We should go.”

It was a foolish idea, Wednesday knew that. Nothing good could ever come from a fraternity party, especially on such a large campus. She knew they were trouble, and she knew you were trouble. The two would not mix and if alcohol was involved? No one would be safe from the potential chaos.

“Okay,” she said anyway.

Enid, Yoko, and Divina came back to the dorm the next day, followed quickly by Bianca later that evening. By the time New Year's Eve rolled around, everyone was more than ready to do something; or more accurately, they were excited to go to a party. None of them more excited than you.

“No disappearing with strangers,” you said on the walk over, your hand squeezing Wednesday’s lightly. “I’m not getting another battery charge over some creep at a frat party.”

“We’ll be careful,” Bianca said and everyone was quick to nod and mumble their agreements.

The party was in full swing by the time you all arrived at the already-obnoxiously messy fraternity house. Everyone separated quickly, but you stayed right beside Wednesday; she appreciated that. The party was very much not her usual scene and if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. Though judging by the look on your face, you weren’t seeming to enjoy yourself either.

“There’s too many people,” you said, leaning down until your lips were near her ear.

“You wished to come,” she said not unkindly. You made a face that said “I know” before standing back up and looking around.

The fraternity house was nothing less than what she had expected one to look like. Flags of all kinds, outdated posters, and sports jerseys lined the walls. Empty plastic cups littered the floors and yet there never seemed to be a shortage of them at any of the tables. In almost every other corner was another beer keg that somehow flowed ceaselessly.

“Did you want a drink?” You asked Wednesday as you guided her further into the house.

“Do you?” She asked in return.

You thought for a moment. “I don’t think so,” you finally said. “I don’t trust any of these people.”

“I don’t either,” she admitted as her eyes scanned the room. There were far too many people.

“Come on,” you said, pulling her with you until you found an empty spot on a questionably clean loveseat.

You practically fell onto the loveseat, dragging Wednesday down with you until she was on your lap. It was a bit uncomfortable with the unceremonious movements of it all, but she quickly got settled and silently rejoiced in your arms wrapped securely around her waist. There was something grounding in your touch, the secret possessiveness behind each squeeze when someone glanced in your direction.

“They’re all looking at you,” you said when yet another man walked by, his eyes trailing up and down where you were both sitting.

“They would do no such thing,” Wednesday said even though you both knew better. Your arms tightened around her waist.

“They are doing such a thing,” you grumbled. There was something in your eyes as you watched the man walk away.

“Metre?” She asked, her eyes stuck to you even though you weren’t sparing her a second glance.

“Eight,” you said quickly.

Your answer came as no surprise to Wednesday; she could feel it in the grip you had on her, soft yet bruising. If looks could kill, she had no doubt the man still looking at her would be nothing more than a corpse on the floor. The set of your jaw was enough to make anyone think twice before approaching.

It was rather attractive.

“Cara mia,” Wednesday said softly into your ear, which twitched at her words. But still, you didn’t look at her, your eyes trained on anyone that even glanced in Wednesday’s direction.

Incredibly attractive.

She cupped your jaw and scratched it lightly before turning you to face her. Your eyes were unfocused and you wanted nothing more than to look back out at the room, but you stayed still like a good little bird. Oh how she had failed to realise just how possessive you could truly be.

“They’re looking at you,” you said softly, only loud enough for Wednesday to hear.

“Yet I’m looking at you,” she said.

The way you visibly relaxed was almost comical if you had both been somewhere private. She would have teased you about it in the privacy of your own room, admiring the slight blush that would adorn your cheeks. But here, she could see your relief at her statement and she wondered just how much you didn’t tell her.

Were you insecure? Worried that if someone else gave her the time of day then she would leave you behind? Or perhaps you believed others could offer her more; she wasn’t oblivious to your borderline desperate attempts to make yourself useful or “necessary,” as Yoko had put it one evening after you had finished making dinner for the next three nights.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. Wednesday could barely even hear your words, but she knew the look in your eyes.

She was acutely aware of the amount of people in the fraternity house, and how many were looking in your direction. There was very rarely a need for public affection, at least in Wednesday’s mind. You were a little more in favour of such a thing, but you kept your impulses under control and she appreciated it.

But the slight frown on your lips and the worry on your brow was enough to convince her otherwise, at least for the moment. Without another word, Wednesday leaned forward to press her lips against yours in a light, lingering kiss. Nothing drastic, nothing that would draw much attention, but enough to let you know how she felt.

The way your hand slid down to grip her thigh told her you understood.

“They’re still looking,” you mumbled against her lips, but your body stayed relaxed. Excellent.

The party continued on around you both, and while you kept your eyes glued to Wednesday, she was looking out at the crowd. With a bit of luck and a lot of focus, she was able to find everyone. The Trio were around a table with some other women, with Enid and Divina holding drinks in their hands while Yoko stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Bianca was leaning against a wall and talking to a young man that seemed far too interested. And Ajax and Kent were near a keg, attempting to do keg stands.

A typical fraternity party, Wednesday assumed.

“Did you want a drink?” You asked, drawing her attention once again. “I think I want one now.”

She shook her head in the negative. “Go get one.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said, leaning forward to give her one more quick kiss before getting up and walking into the crowd.

Wednesday stayed right where she was, not wishing to talk to anyone or draw any unnecessary attention to herself. She could not care any less about these people, nor did she even have the desire to care. Her sole purpose at the ridiculous party was to be with you, and that was all she cared to do.

“Never thought I’d see you at a frat party,” an all-too-familiar voice called out through the insufferable noise.

“Precisely the opposite of what I thought about you,” Wednesday said in reply as Ash fell onto the seat directly beside her.

“One day,” Ash said with a nod. “One day I’ll get you to admit you like me.”

“I would rather scoop my own eyes out with a rusty spoon,” she said. They both knew she wasn’t serious.

With Ash’s body heat creating a comforting feeling - it was similar to yours, though not as encompassing - Wednesday could finally search for you once again. You had disappeared into the crowd and for a moment, she thought she saw your unkempt hair in the group around the Trio. But as she looked harder she realised it wasn’t you, just some random boy who was trying his best to hit on Enid.

The look on Yoko’s and Divina’s faces was beyond entertaining.

“Looking for Y/N?” Ash asked before taking another sip from her red plastic cup.

“She went to get a drink,” Wednesday answered.

“I saw her on my way over,” Ash said. “Some sorority girls got her to do shots.”

Something uncomfortable settled in Wednesday’s stomach.

“Of course they did,” was all she said in return.

Wednesday never considered herself a jealous person; she knew her worth and refused to associate with anyone who didn’t treat her as such. If someone treated her as anything less, or as expendable, she had no shame in leaving them behind. On top of that, she knew you worshipped the ground she walked on, following her around like a lovesick puppy. She had no fear of you leaving or disrespecting her.

However, she was also aware that other people had no shame in attempting to disrespect her.

“She’ll get a migraine,” Ash continued, her voice far softer than Wednesday wished it to be. “If it’s really bad, she’ll get nauseous. Just make her sleep it off and she won’t bug you too much.”

A retort quickly found its way to the tip of Wednesday’s tongue at the bit of information Ash was oh-so-willingly handing out. She didn’t need your ex to tell her how to take care of you. But there was no malice in her voice, nothing to indicate she meant anything other than care for your well-being and Wednesday’s sanity. The gesture was kind.

“If it’s really bad, I’ll send her to you,” Wednesday said instead.

Ash barked out a laugh. “You do that and she’s sleeping on the streets.”

They both started a light conversation; nothing serious considering it had only been a few days since they had seen each other, but something to pass the time. Every now and then Wednesday would see you through the crowd, finally attempting to make your way back to the loveseat before getting pulled in a different direction. If she was correct, your anger metre would eventually rise and someone would get hurt.

“Willa!”

Ash stopped mid-sentence as Enid finished shoving her way past people to stand in front of the loveseat. She was unsteady on her feet and her eyes were unfocused and Wednesday didn’t have to guess how much alcohol she had consumed so far. It seemed you wouldn’t be the only one with a hangover in the morning.

“Y/N is- hi stranger,” Enid said with a smile when she saw Ash, who hesitantly waved and smiled in return. “Willa, did you make a friend?”

“Focus, Enid,” Wednesday said not unkindly. “Y/N is?”

“Oh!” Enid laughed at herself before her face fell serious. “She’s about to start a fight.”

“Shit,” Ash mumbled before pushing Wednesday off the seat and quickly following suit.

Enid led the way, continuing to shove her way past the throngs of people that were starting to gather in one particular spot. It was times like that where Wednesday could truly appreciate the werewolf’s strength and sturdiness; she certainly never would have made it by on her own. With Ash close behind, they finally stepped into the centre of the circle where you were standing toe-to-toe with two fraternity men. Kent and Ajax stood behind you, simultaneously reaching out to pull you back while backing up themselves.

“Say it again,” you said loud enough for even Wednesday to hear it over the music.

“You heard me the first time,” the taller of the two men said. He seemed far too cocky. Wednesday secretly hoped he would throw the first punch so you could finish the fight.

“Too scared to say it again?” You asked.

The shorter one stepped closer. “We called your Outcast friends a pair of faggots.”

“See, that’s what I thought you said.” A humourless smile graced those pretty lips of yours. “I think you should apologise.”

“I’m not one to apologise for the truth,” the taller one said.

“Apologise on your own,” you said with a slight tilt of your head. Oh no, “or I’ll beat it out of you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” the shorter one said with his own smile.

At the slight roll of your shoulders, Wednesday made a split second decision. No one even dared try to stop her as she stepped forward and grabbed your forearm in a grip just tight enough to get your attention. She remembered Alex doing something similar in the ice cream shop all that time ago. The muscles under her fingers relaxed instantly and she thanked whatever was out there that the tactic had worked a second time.

“Let’s go,” she said when you turned to look down at her, the anger dissipating the moment your eyes met hers.

You didn’t argue or fight when she pulled you back, away from the two men still sneering and watching with hungry eyes. As much as Wednesday wanted you to beat the shit out of them, she knew better than to let you loose. Even so much as a taste of violence would risk your good streak and she refused to let you do such a thing as a fraternity party.

“Go on, pup,” one of the men said, “let those freaks walk you like a dog.”

It was as if your body turned to stone. No matter how hard Wednesday pulled, you didn’t budge. She turned her head to look at you for a moment, only a moment, and she knew she had only a second to make a decision. There was no need to ask what your anger metre was; she could see it in your eyes and the painfully tight clench of your jaw.

She dropped your arm and nodded once.

Your teeth showed in a sadistic, crooked half-smile as you turned around to face the men once again.

Wednesday refused to watch when she heard the first punch land, but she didn’t have to. It was clear who had swung first, and it was clear who was winning. The sounds of the crowd grew louder, drowning out the sounds of violence behind her. Even though violence was no stranger to Wednesday, she didn’t wish to see you partaking in it. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she felt nausea grow at the thought of you involved in violence.

“If you so much as look at my friends again, I’ll end your fucking bloodline,” you said, and at that, Wednesday finally turned to look at you again.

The two men were on the ground holding all kinds of body parts. Then there you stood, towering over them with blood dripping from your nose and the beginnings of a black eye making an appearance. Ajax, Kent, and Bianca were pulling you back, and though you pretended to resist, you let them push you back into Wednesday’s direction.

“Good luck,” Ash said when you stumbled and nearly fell at Wednesday’s feet.

“Thank you,” Wednesday said with a frown that quickly softened when she met your eyes.

Everything about you seemed more relaxed, as if you had let out some of the pressure that had been building inside you. Your eyes were soft and your shoulders drooped. If not for the blood coating the bottom half of your face, she would have thought you were just a regular college student.

She grabbed your hand and dragged you away from the dissipating crowd, quickly finding a bathroom and pushing you inside before closing and locking the door. You swayed lightly on your feet, just enough to remind Wednesday that you had been drinking a little earlier in the night. If she had been responsible, as she usually was, she would have scolded you for it.

But when you turned and looked at her with the softest, most gentle smile she had seen on your face in months, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“You look really pretty,” you said, your smile turning dopey.

“Sit down,” Wednesday said with a roll of her eyes even though she could feel her cheeks starting to heat up.

You did as ordered - with a bit of stumbling as you missed the edge of the tub and nearly fell to the floor - and sat as still as you could. Which wasn’t very, but she would allow it. When she turned back around with a wet cloth, she almost smiled at the sight of you sitting politely with your hands clasped together in your lap. As if you were a child waiting to receive a reward for something.

“This will hurt,” she said as she stood in front of you, “don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said softly, your eyes still looking at her in a way that reminded her of her father.

There was the slightest twitch in your eye when she started to wipe the blood from your nose, but aside from that you sat perfectly still. Music from outside continued to thump in her ears, dull from the walls but ever present. She could feel you watching her, looking at her with an admiration that almost made her uncomfortable. And when you licked the split on your bottom lip, you almost made her stomach flip.

Just almost.

“Mi vida,” you said softly, the use of the term making Wednesday freeze, “can I kiss you?”

Without answering, she finished wiping the remainder of the sticky blood off your lips. Why did you always feel the need to ask her before doing such a thing? None of the Trio ever asked each other before giving their kisses. She didn’t think she saw Bianca ever ask anyone. So why, then, would you ask almost every single time?

She straightened her posture and looked down at you. At the new gash on the bridge of your nose and the split on your bottom lip that was almost identical to the scar on the top. The slightest daze in your eyes that didn’t appear to stop you from looking at her so intensely she felt she might combust.

With only a second of consideration, she leaned down to kiss you; your lips tasted of copper and liquor. An unusual taste but not unpleasant. She could feel your shift underneath her, almost as if you were about to move, but you soon stilled again. When she pulled away, you were quick to chase after her, only giving up when she took a step back.

“That’s it?” You asked with an adorable pout.

“You can have another one once you behave,” Wednesday said.

“What about my New Year’s kiss?” You asked with wide eyes. “Can I have that one too?”

Wednesday sighed quietly. If this was what you were like when you were drunk, maybe she really would turn you over to Ash. Although she supposed you did look cute when you were looking at her like a lost puppy. Perhaps she would give you another chance. At least for the moment.

“Come on,” Wednesday said without actually giving you an answer to your previous question.

She grabbed you by the hand and dragged you out of the bathroom and back to the party where everyone was already starting to count down to the New Year. You looked at her quickly with raised brows and an expectant look. If you hadn’t been so damn insistent she would have left you right then and there.

But when everyone continued counting down, and cheers rang out, she pulled you down by the collar of your shirt and into a kiss. For your sake - because it certainly wasn’t her desire - she kissed you deeply, her grip on your shirt tight. Your hands quickly fell to her waist, the grip bruising yet not uncomfortable. The cheers died down and the music continued their assault on her ears, but all she could truly focus on was the feel of your lips against hers.

When you pulled away her pulse was racing enough to make her dizzy. Mentally she cursed you for affecting her as much as you did. It was a weakness that she despised and yet, when you kissed her, she couldn’t help it. There was something hypnotising and special about your touch. She would kill for it; she would die for it.

“Happy New Year, darling,” you said softly, your warm breath fanning across her cheeks. Now that was a nickname Wednesday could live with.

“Happy New Year,” she said in reply before pressing one more quick kiss to your lips. “Shall we stay longer?” She asked.

“No,” you said with a shake of your head. “My head hurts.”

“It wouldn’t hurt so bad if you hadn’t started a fight,” she said even though she knew it was from the myriad of things that had transpired throughout the night. “I’ll gather everyone and meet you by the front,” she continued.

“Yes ma’am,” you said. With the speed of a viper, you kissed her once more, a giddy smile gracing your lips before you stumbled off toward the front door.

Thankfully it didn’t take long to find everyone. The Trio were still being hit on by a few fraternity guys, Bianca was in a heated makeout session with some sorority girl, and Kent and Ajax were busy playing beer pong. Or rather, busy losing beer pong. They were more than happy to abandon the game, saying they had places to be.

She even picked up Ash, who said she would be more than happy to help get everyone home safely.

Wednesday assumed it took all of fifteen minutes to find everyone and get back to the front, where you were leaning against the doorframe of the front door with exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders. But the moment you saw everyone walking towards you, you perked up and stood up straight. Not even the sight of Ash brought you down from whatever high the alcohol had put you in.

Though the walk back to the dorm was short, it was quickly clear who had been drinking throughout the night. You, of course, as you did your best to appear sober even as you tripped over your own feet. Enid and Divina, who were hanging on to Yoko for dear life. And Kent and Ajax, who were hanging on to each other and singing tuneless songs.

“I vote for no more frat parties,” Yoko grumbled.

Ash and Bianca muttered their agreements.

“I concur,” Wednesday finished.

It was easier to get everyone in their beds than previously anticipated. Ajax and Kent went straight to their shared room and shut the door; Bianca quickly checked and confirmed they were already fast asleep. Yoko took her two hooligans to the room and also gave a silent thumbs up that they were passed out. That only left Wednesday to get you to bed.

“I’ll head on home,” Ash said once the main four were accounted for.

“It’s late,” Bianca said with a shrug. “I have a second bed.”

“You sure?” Ash asked hesitantly.

“There’s a murderer on the loose, remember?” Bianca said with a raised brow. “Safer to stay.”

Ash looked at Wednesday, who gave a noncommittal shrug, before agreeing to stay. She and Bianca bid you and Wednesday goodnight, leaving the two of you to get to your room. Which, thankfully, was also fairly simple since you were slowly sobering up enough to be slightly useful.

“I’m gonna hurt tomorrow,” you gumbled when you had finished getting ready and fell onto the bed.

“Yes you are,” Wednesday agreed as she slipped in beside you, smiling in the dark when your arm instinctually found its way around her waist.

“Take care of me tomorrow?” You asked.

“I would rather wear pink.”

“That’s my girl,” you chuckled, your laugh fading into the softest of snores. Wednesday was quick behind you.

The morning - or rather, the afternoon - was rather funny when everyone finally reconvened in the common room of the dorm. Of course Wednesday, Yoko, Bianca, and Ash were fine; Bianca and Ash had the slightest headaches, but nothing a few Advil couldn’t handle. They were all okay, ready for the day, ready to see what they could get done in the remaining daylight.

The other five of you, however… well, that was a different thing entirely.

Enid and Divina were sick to their stomachs, which they made sure to remind everyone about every 30 seconds. No matter how much Yoko grumbled at them, she still let them rest their heads on her shoulders. You, Kent, and Ajax were cuddled up in front of the couch, eyes closed and grimaces on your faces. It didn’t help that Bianca decided to talk a little extra loud, just for you.

“I need hangover food,” you said, immediately wincing at the volume. Which was normal, even a little quiet, if Wednesday was being honest.

“Don’t talk about food,” Divina mumbled.

“No no, talk about food,” Kent interrupted.

“I know a guy,” you said, your eyes finally opening just enough to make sure you didn’t squish anyone as you stood up. “Don’t bother getting dressed, come on.”

You didn’t bother waiting for anyone as you grabbed Wednesday’s hand and made your way out of the dorm. Everyone followed suit, letting you guide them all down to the streets below. A few groans were heard as the sun assaulted your eyes, but you kept walking, taking them a few streets down to a little hole in the wall that Wednesday would admit she had never seen before.

“Afternoon, pollito,” a man said when you walked in. “A productive New Year, I see.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “my booth available?”

“Go on,” the man said with a chuckle and a gesture of his head, “I’ll bring out the special for everyone.”

“Thank you,” you said, finally stepping aside to usher everyone into the small restaurant and to a booth in the very back corner.

With the amount of people, you and Wednesday ended up sitting at opposite sides of the table. Not that you seemed to mind at the moment considering you were pinching the bridge of your nose - still a bit bloody from the night before - and squeezing your eyes so tightly she thought they might weld shut.

It didn’t take long before the man brought out plates for everyone, placing them in front of each person along with a steaming cup of coffee. If Wednesday was being honest with herself, it looked rather delicious; rice, ground beef, and an egg on top. Maybe it would be enough to satisfy yours and Enid’s voracious appetites.

“On the house,” the man said with a smile. Your eyes flew open as you looked at him. “For the New Year,” he said quickly, beating you to the punch. Your eyes narrowed but he left before you could say anything else.

Wednesday was correct in her assumption; it was an extremely satisfying meal. The more everyone ate, the more they started to perk back up. You would still grimace at certain volumes or the lights, but you seemed a bit more normal. Maybe Ash was wrong and you wouldn’t be as needy as usual. You actually looked at peace, and you looked at her with gentle eyes before you-

“-Wednesday?”

Everyone froze.

“Wednesday Addams?”

Every head at the table turned slowly to look at the young man currently coming up to the table. His round glasses rested low on his nose and he was slightly unkempt, shaggy hair hanging near his eyes. A large book was tucked under his arm and he was looking at Wednesday in a certain way…

Of course.

“Joel?”

everyone but her pt.29

Summary: Wednesday's ex makes an appearance and you're not happy about it. Neither is the voice in your head. And things only go downhill from there.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, murder, hallucinations, injuries, police Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Joel?” You asked.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Joel said, his eyes still glued to Wednesday. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Since that second summer at Camp Chippewa,” Wednesday said with the slightest tilt of her head. Why was she looking at him like that?

“Camp what?” You asked. Everyone seemed to be trying to follow the conversation same as you; it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your migraine got worse.

“You staged a getaway again, same as the first summer,” Joel continued.

“What is going on?” You asked.

“Come join us,” Wednesday said as she moved aside.

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself as you watched him sit right by your girlfriend. Why was he so eager? What the hell was he doing?

He made her tilt her head, the voice in your head growled, loud and booming. It almost felt like it was rattling your brain inside your skull before pulverising it with a meat tenderiser. Even though it worsened the migraine, you knew the voice was right. This Joel character, whoever the hell he was, had made Wednesday do the equivalent of a smile. You could barely even do that.

You watched - and seethed - as Joel and Wednesday started talking as if they had known each other for centuries. She doesn’t talk to you like that, the voice said when Wednesday started rambling about whatever thing she had learned in her Lit class that, coincidentally, he was also taking. They were bonding.

Get angry, the voice said when Wednesday very nearly smirked at something he said. She didn't, but she nearly did, and that was bad enough. Images flashed in your mind, images of your hands around his neck. It would be simple, you only had to reach over the table. You just looked back down at your food and stabbed your spoon through your rice.

"Seems Wednesday finally has a friend," Divina said from her spot beside you.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

His pulse weakening beneath your fingers as you squeezed harder-

-you blinked to clear the image away. You didn’t need to kill him, especially if he was a friend of Wednesday’s. She didn’t have many friends, you needed to calm down and let her live. Wednesday Addams had no keeper, and even if she did it certainly wouldn’t be you.

“How do you two know each other again?”Ash asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You stabbed the spoon into your food once again; you weren’t hungry anymore.

“My Aunt Debbie deceived my parents into forcing Pugsley and me to attend a summer camp a few years ago,” Wednesday said with another tilt of her head. You roughly grabbed your coffee, suppressing your cough when the liquid was still just a bit too hot when it hit your throat.

“You have an Aunt Debbie?” Bianca asked.

“Picture a grown Enid, but more homicide and mania,” you said with a shrug. Not that you had met her yet, but you had heard stories. After all, she had married Wednesday’s favourite Uncle.

“We were always in trouble for not being like everyone else,” Joel said. He needed to quit looking at Wednesday before you ripped his eyes out of his skull.

“What rebels,” you mimicked, ignoring the look Yoko sent your way. “Practically anarchists.”

“Wednesday was my first kiss, actually.”

You choked on the coffee you had just attempted to drink. She was what? With wide eyes, you looked up to see Wednesday looking at you with a passive face, aside from the slightly lowered brows. Oh she was not giving you that look, not when you were just told Mr. Happy Go Lucky over there had kissed her.

“Oh shit,” Yoko whispered.

Even with your eyes glued to Joel, you could feel everyone else’s eyes on you. Watching you, waiting to see if you would snap. Is that what your life had turned into? One where everyone was just waiting to see what would be the straw to break the camel’s back? Worried that just one wrong thing would cause you to break and lose your temper? 

They should be worried, the voice in your head taunted. You’re a loose canon. 

No you weren’t. 

A liability. 

No. 

A death wish.

“So you two were together?” Ajax asked, his eyes still closed from the hangover no doubt plaguing his body.

“As well as two children can be,” Wednesday said.

“For about a year and a half or so,” Joel said with a nod. He wasn’t even giving you the respect of looking at you.

A death wish.

“We were, what, 12? 13?” Joel asked as he looked at Wednesday with the beginning of a smile.

Tick tick tick.

“I believe so,” Wednesday said with a slight nod.

“Shit,” Yoko mumbled again.

You’re gonna snap.

“And you actually, like, had a good time?” Kent asked Wednesday.

Tick tick tick.

“I would say it was rather enjoyable, yes,” Wednesday answered.

Boom.

You slammed your hands on the table and stood up quickly. The ringing in your ears grew with each second that seemed to crawl by at an agonising pace. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get a full breath. It felt like you were trying to breathe underwater, each breath heavier and more painful than the last. You were acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you as the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Defend what’s yours.

“Hey,” Divina said softly. You couldn’t help but flinch when her hand rested on your forearm. She can go too. “You okay?”

“I’m gonna head out,” you managed to choke out past the lump in your throat.

“Are you feeling ill?” Wednesday asked.

Finally she was looking at you with something other than indifference. Outwardly it would almost seem angry, but you could see the lack of a glare in her eyes. She wasn’t looking up at you, but looking at you with the slightest downturn of her lips. You knew what care looked like on her, and for the first time all day, it was what she was showing you.

“I have a pocket pharmacy,” Joel said quickly, “did you need something specific?”

Kill them all.

“I’m good,” you said harshly. Break his spirit. “I’ll see you guys at the dorm.”

“Did you-”

-you didn’t wait to hear what Yoko was going to say before leaving the booth and heading out of the little restaurant. You gave a tense goodbye wave to Chung on the way out the door. The migraine continued to pound against the inside of your skull, worsening when the sunlight hit your eyes.

Go back in there and show him who’s the boss.

“Shut up,” you said through clenched teeth as you started walking aimlessly down the street.

The voice continued to rage inside your head, mixing between threats and images that, try as you might, you couldn’t shake off. The sound of Joel’s gasps for air or the feel of him desperately trying to claw your hands off. It was too much, you didn’t want to hurt him.

Yes you do.

“I don’t,” you said aloud again, ignoring the look a random woman gave you as you walked past her.

Your feet carried you until you reached the taller buildings in town; the high rises that truly weren’t very high. With only a quick glance around, you stepped into one of the alleys and stopped midway. Your fingers shook as you slid your shirt off and unbuckled the harness, exhaling through your nose at the sudden lack of pressure against your back.

Stop running away.

There was a slight pressure in your back as your wings expanded before you pushed yourself off the ground, propelling straight into the sky until you could land on the top of the highest building. It was a nice place, plenty secluded and you had even managed to sneak a few things up there. There was only one door and it was always locked, so you could keep your things nice and secret.

Breathing continued to be a struggle as your feet touched the rooftop and your wings folded back securely in place. The tips of a few feathers brushed against your arm and you frowned for a moment. It was about time for a dust bath; they were feeling a little unkempt. A problem for another time, of course.

You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth in front of one of the walls that was covered in the reflective glass. Sometimes, during the summer, it nearly turns you into a roasted chicken. But now, during the middle of winter, it was a nice change of pace and-

-a familiar head of unruly curls reflected off the glass.

Your body turned so quickly you nearly slipped on the slick gravel. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest when you saw him in the glass, looking at you with such pity you wanted to scream. Tears didn’t bother welling up in your eyes, instead just pouring over until you could feel them nearly freezing on your cheeks from the temperature outside.

“What have you done?” Nicky asked with a tilt of his head and a frown.

You shook your head frantically. You hadn’t done anything, that’s why you were up there. So you wouldn't do anything!

He’s right, the voice said.

“I’m so disappointed,” he said.

The glass shattered before he could open his mouth again, the sharp sound causing you to flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. A pain radiated through your hand. For a fleeting second the migraine vanished before coming back with a vengeance. You choked back a cry before opening your eyes.

Nicky was gone.

The panel of glass was in shards on the ground, now nothing more than a metal backing. Something warm dripped from your hand. You let your head fall and saw the red dripping down your fingers to the gravel below. It was almost hypnotising. Beautiful even.

He’s disappointed in you.

“Stop,” you mumbled as you lifted your hands to cover your ears.

He knows what you did.

“Please stop.” The lump in your throat grew with the tears that continued to fall onto the gravel, mixing with the droplets of blood.

He would hate you.

You tried to say something but the words got caught, coming out as nothing more than a strangled sob as you fell to your knees. The gravel dug through your pants and into your skin, but all you could feel was the weight of Nicky’s disappointment weighing heavy on your shoulders.

It was unclear how long you sat up there on the roof, covering your ears and crying, the cold winter air burning your lungs with each shaky gasp. You were barely even aware of the air getting more crisp, stinging your cheeks and nearly freezing the tears to your skin.

At one point you just let your hands drop and rest on your thighs. Your left hand was caked in dried blood that cracked when it moved. It didn’t hurt anymore, not really. It just rested on your leg as you stared at the gravel, focusing on the singular black pebble you had found in your daze.

"Y/N?"

You didn’t even flinch at the voice behind you; truthfully you weren’t even surprised she had managed to get through the locked door. It was on par for her, that was for sure. Had she brought her new toy with her? Was he going to follow her every move as if his life depended on it?

You do the same.

Yeah. Yeah you did.

“Mi amore,” Wednesday said in a voice so soft you felt a fresh wave of tears fall.

A pair of soft hands held your face firmly before you actually saw Wednesday in front of you. Her eyes were wide and looking over every inch of you. She would hate what she saw, you knew that much. You looked pitiful and weak and broken and that wasn’t acceptable.

Joel isn’t broken.

“You’re freezing,” Wednesday said in that painfully soft voice that you were growing to hate.

She uses it because you’re weak.

“Enid made stew,” she said as if she wasn’t watching you kneel on the precipice of a breakdown. “It should help warm you up.”

She straightened in front of you without letting go of your face. The slightest pull indicated she wanted you to follow, but you just couldn’t get up. Nicky’s face was stuck in your mind, that look of disappointment haunting you. It left your head reeling and had your mouth filling with saliva; you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Cara mia?”

Don’t, you thought, don’t call me that. Her eyes were gentle, and all she had to do was tilt her head before you choked out a sob. As uncharacteristic of her as it was, her hands left your face to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you forward until your head rested on her stomach and you had her unspoken permission to cry.

You’re weak.

That simple fact made you cry harder into Wednesday’s stomach, your hands lifting to grab her jacket so tightly you felt the skin split on your knuckles once again. It was right; you were weak. You couldn’t even handle her seeing an old friend again without completely losing every bit of sanity you had left. How were you going to do anything for her if you couldn’t even do that?

And the fact that she still held you tight while you cried? Showed such a shameless display of weakness and vulnerability when you knew she hated such things in people? Especially such visible displays of those emotions. And yet there you were, crying into her clothes with blood on your hand because you couldn’t stand looking at a fucking piece of glass.

“Would you find comfort in talking about it?” Wednesday asked when you finally settled into little more than the occasional sniffle.

Would you? Possibly. But how could you admit anything that had been going on in your mind? The voices, the jealousy, the insecurity. Nicky. There was no way to talk about any of it without coming across as crazy, and you weren’t crazy. Or maybe you were, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The migraine got worse.

“No,” you said with a long exhale through your nose before pulling back. “No I wouldn’t.”

“Very well,” she said.

She stilled for a moment, and you wondered if she was going to berate you. Tell you to straighten up, keep going, move on. That’s what your dad would have said. It’s what your mom would have said too. Her family was unusual with emotions, maybe she was going to tell you the same thing.

But then you felt her lips press to the top of your head, lingering for far longer than necessary, and it was your turn to freeze. When she pulled away, her gaze had softened and you were looking at your Wednesday. Your Wednesday, who secretly enjoyed receiving affection and even found pleasure in giving it back.

“If you would wish to talk about it, you may,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I would appreciate forewarning so I may prepare,” she blinked once, “but you may.”

You looked up at her. Well, you tried; truthfully she wasn’t much taller than you even when you were on your knees. Just the sight of her was enough to have your heart trying to jump out of your throat; even at night, in the current situation, she looked stunning. No contrast at all to the dark sky above her, simply blending in with the natural beauty surrounding her.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

“No,” she said quickly.

“What?” You asked with furrowed brows. “Why not?”

“We are on a freezing rooftop in the middle of winter,” she said, “you can kiss me at home.”

“Bet you kissed Joel in the middle of winter,” you grumbled as Wednesday steadied herself to help you to your feet.

“Not on a freezing rooftop.”

“So you did kiss him in the middle of winter,” you said quickly.

You were upset. Drastically upset, and nothing was going to change it. But the tension of the situation was getting to be far too much, and you were far too tired to keep up with it. Nicky’s face faded into the back of your mind and, though he was still there, he didn’t seem quite as disappointed. At least not at the moment. You could work with that.

“Is Joel the reason you stormed out of the restaurant?” She asked with her own raised brow. “Because if so, it’s rather immature.”

If anyone else had been around, they would have thought she was treating you like an imbecile. And she was! But the slight tilt of her head and the smallest tug at the corner of her lips was a dead giveaway. No one else would have noticed except possibly Enid - and the rest of the Addamses of course - but you did. It eased that ache that had settled in the hollow of your throat just enough to be tolerable.

“I’m not scared of some nerdy kid,” you grumbled even as you reached over and pulled Wednesday to the ledge of the rooftop. She was going to hate you in a moment. “I’d beat him to a pulp.”

“Do not fly me down to the ground,” Wednesday warned you with her genuine, murderous glare. It was lovely.

“Payback for kissing someone before me,” you said with a cheeky grin as you held her close to your chest and tipped backwards over the ledge.

She didn’t scream, which was an improvement from the past few times you had forced her to fly with you. But she most certainly gripped you with nails that could sever a jugular, and the sting of them digging into your skin was rather delicious. There was no doubt when you landed that you would have crescent shaped wounds on your back. It was okay though; it was hot.

“You’re a menace to society,” Wednesday said as she attempted to fix her now-windswept hair.

“But I’m your menace to society,” you said with a shrug.

She simply grabbed your hand, intertwined your fingers, and started pulling you to the dorm.

It was a quiet walk, and most of yours and Wednesday’s walks tended to be. And as much as you wished for her to talk, to say something to keep you out of your head, you kept your own mouth shut. After all, you certainly had nothing to say, so how were you going to expect her to keep up the entire conversation on her own? It was Wednesday Addams, not Enid; it simply wasn’t realistic.

“So,” you started. “You and Joel, huh?”

“Do not start,” she said with a quick shake of her head.

“You know about Ash,” you grumbled, “why can’t I know about him?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who looked like they would murder the other one.”

“You know I have issues,” you said with a huff. “Besides, I didn’t do anything!”

“I will not be the cause of a murder,” Wednesday said as she squared her shoulders. “At least not this one.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll find you someone worthy of your murderous hands,” you said.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she huffed, but nonetheless stepped closer to you until her arm was pressed against yours.

“But like, back to you and Joel.”

“Do not-”

“-hey kid.”

Both you and Wednesday slowed to a stop before turning around to see who had called out. A police officer was quickly approaching. Your eyes instantly fell on the way his hand was resting on his gun. It was too dark outside for anyone to come by and see what was happening, if anyone came by at all. As discreetly as possible, you pulled Wednesday slightly behind you until you were between her and the cop.

“Miss Smith?” He asked, his eyes on you.

“I go by Johnson,” you said quickly, your eyes darting between his gun and his face.

“I have orders to bring you in for some questioning,” he continued as if you hadn’t just corrected him.

“About what?” You asked. Behind you, Wednesday squeezed your hand.

“You were at the Pi Beta Phi party last night, correct?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You said slowly; an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. “Why?”

“Two young men were found murdered this morning,” he said with a raised brow. His hand tightened around the gun. “Witnesses say you got into an altercation with them during the party.”

“Shit,” you sighed.

“I need you to come with me for questioning,” he said with a shrug.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at this time,” he answered a little too quickly.

You turned your head just enough to look at Wednesday, who was glaring at the cop without the least bit of shame. In other circumstances you would have admired it, joined in, even. But now? No, she needed to behave and you very much needed to get him away from her. There was no way he was going to treat a Latina properly, with or without witnesses.

“Call Señor Moreno,” you said as you stepped back, “and I’ll see you at the dorm.”

Wednesday gave you a singular nod before letting go of your hand so you could finally walk off with the officer. She looked furious, but more importantly she looked scared. It always appeared differently on Wednesday; she straightened her shoulders and held her chin higher than usual. You didn’t blame her, you were scared too. But you hoped she would just head home and wait for you.

The police officer opened the back door of the cruiser and helped you in; it was far too tight of a space for you and your unharnessed wings, but you supposed you could make do. He didn’t say a word as he got into the driver’s seat and sped off. You barely had time to see Wednesday through the window as you passed, heading straight for the police station.

You thought back to the previous night on the drive. They had been pricks, and you didn’t even feel the least bit sorry that they were dead. But you hadn’t done it and everyone knew it. You had been with someone the entire night aside from maybe five or 10 minutes, and how could you have killed two people in that time? At a party? It wasn’t possible.

They’re targeting you, the voice in your head said tauntingly. They know you have a record. True, but it hadn’t been you. Everyone knew it, and the police would know it soon enough too. They were just going to ask their questions, realise you were innocent, and let you go back home as if nothing had ever happened.

The sounds of the station were enough to have your skin crawling when you finally arrived; your last experience hadn’t been a pleasant one. You could almost even feel the sharp sting of Erin’s fist again. But you stood tall and followed the officer, letting him lead you to a small interrogation room that was too tight and had your head reeling.

“Have a seat, kid,” he said before pulling his own chair up. You sat quickly.

“Gonna read me my Miranda Rights?” You asked before he could even get settled.

“You’re not under arrest,” he said with a shrug, “you’re free to go at any time.”

“If you end up arresting me without reading me my rights, you’ll lose a case.” You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Cool it, you thought to yourself, you’re sounding too defensive.

Don’t cool it, the voice argued back, make it worse.

“I can tell this isn’t your first rodeo,” the officer said as he mirrored your position.

“It’s not,” you said; you readjusted your jaw and broke eye contact first. “Please ask your questions so I can go home.”

“Did you have an altercation last night with Mr. Burton and Mr. Holland?” He asked, getting right into it.

“I got into a fight with two frat boys last night, yeah,” you nodded. “But I didn’t stop to ask their names.”

“What was the fight about?”

“They were being homophobic pricks to my friends,” you said. “As well as throwing around a few choice insults about Outcasts.”

“So you started the fight?” He wrote something down on a piece of paper. You did your best not to look.

“They started the fight when they called my friends faggots,” you corrected. “I only retaliated physically after they threw an insult at me as well.”

“But you started the physical altercation?” He asked as he looked up at you.

Lie, the voice in your head said. It’s a trap. But you didn’t want to lie; if you could tell the truth and prove that you hadn’t done anything, then they would let you go. That was how it was supposed to work, right? Innocent until proven guilty? You hadn’t done anything wrong and you knew it, you weren’t going to let them just take you down a second time.

“I threw the first punch, that’s correct,” you said with a nod, immediately clenching your jaw to try and ease the anxiety bubbling up in your chest.

“And what injuries did you inflict on them?” He pushed.

“I cold cocked one of them, headbutted the other,” you started with a sigh, thinking back to what had happened. What had you done to them? “A few more punches.” Oh yeah. “And I kicked one of them in the balls.” You had to fight not to smile at the memory.

“You kicked him in the testicles?” The officer confirmed with an uneasy face.

“Yes sir,” you said simply, “pretty hard, actually.”

He squirmed in his seat and exhaled harshly through his nose.

“Can someone corroborate that story?” He asked.

He doesn’t believe you.

“A lot of someones,” you said quickly. “We all live in the same dorm, I can give you their names.”

The officer nodded and started jotting on his piece of paper. At the go ahead, you gave him the names of everyone you thought wouldn’t be targeted by the police; you made sure not to mention Wednesday, Bianca, or Yoko. If anything were to go downhill, they would be the first to be brought in for questioning. No, you would rather die than have the cops after them.

“And do you have an alibi for the entire night?” He asked after getting everyone’s names and numbers.

“Those same people,” you said with a gesture of your head toward the sheet of paper. “I was with at least one of them all night.”

“And after the party?” He asked.

“We all left at the same time and went home,” you said. “And I slept with my girlfriend all night.”

“And all of these people will tell me the same thing?” He said with a raised brow; he still didn’t believe you. “That you were with them at the party and after?”

“Yes,” you said with the utmost confidence you could manage to convey. “Because it’s the truth.”

The officer sat back in his chair again and stared at you. He’s testing you. You knew that, you could tell, but he wasn’t going to win. You had nothing to hide. There was nothing they were going to find, and you were going to go home and go to sleep with Wednesday, just like every other night. They weren’t going to trick you like they had after Nicky.

“That’s all the questions I’ve got for you tonight,” he finally said, causing your shoulders to visibly fall. “If I have any more I’ll give you a call.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod as you stood up from your seat. The officer did the same. “Thank you.”

“Hey kid,” he said before you could start walking down the hall; you stopped and looked him in the eyes. “For the record, I don’t think you did it.”

“You don’t?” You asked incredulously.

He’s lying.

“I knew those boys,” he said with a shrug, “they were always causing trouble.” You nodded once in acknowledgement. “Go on home, it’s late.”

“Yes sir,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

He nodded at you and gave you a polite smile before gesturing forward, following you through the hallway until you were at the reception. You gave an awkward smile and wave as you exited the station and inhaled the crisp winter air. It stung, but at least it wasn’t suffocating.

He was lying, the voice said, he believes it’s you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled to yourself as you made your way down the street, heading directly to the dorms.

You very much needed a long night’s rest. Wednesday had better give you that kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove @karsonromanoff

everyone but her pt.30

Summary: You're determined to prove to Wednesday that you're better than Joel. Is it in a way she understands? Probably not, but you're no quitter

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, paintball guns, Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) A/N: I'm taking a bit of creative liberty with the wolfing out thing just because it suits my needs, so don't come at me for it

“Do we have to keep him around?” You groaned as you sat down in the booth beside Wednesday.

“We kept you around,” she said without bothering to look up from her book.

It wasn’t like she needed to; she knew who you were talking about and what you were insinuating. You had been doing it for weeks. Although Wednesday didn’t quite understand why you had such an issue with Joel; she had chosen you, had she not? And she had no issue with Ash, so why had you been so upset? If you would just open up then she would comprehend your apprehension.

“That’s harsh,” you whispered. “You keep me around because you like me.”

“I would go so far as to say love,” she said while turning the page.

You stiffened beside her. “You would?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly and turned her head to look at you. The winter had been harsh on you, both physically and mentally. You looked worn and ragged and on edge. A few more feathers than usual had fallen out of your wings over the weeks and you couldn’t quit picking at them; a habit she knew you used to have when you got anxious. Everyone had believed you to have grown out of it, but the past few weeks had proven them wrong.

And now you were looking at her with crinkles around your eyes and the smallest smile on your lips.

“You know I do,” she said with a tilt of her head.

“I would like to hear you say it again though,” you said softly.

You were rather impossible, weren’t you?

“I keep you around because I tolerate you,” she said simply, instantly turning back to the book that she 

“Oh you’re a dick,” you grumbled as you let yourself fall back against the back of the booth. “If you don’t tell me you love me, I’m tripping your boy toy.”

“Your threats are empty,” Wednesday said. “And I don’t reward bad behaviour.”

“I don’t need to be rewarded,” you huffed. “I’m not Enid.”

The pout on your lips was rather adorable, Wednesday wouldn’t deny it. Not that she would ever let you know, of course, but it was. It was the small moments like this that gave her hope that you would get better. Of course you still had your bad days, and you were still going through a hard time with all the talks with the police, but you were getting there. There was hope.

“Oh Jesus christ,” you mumbled when Joel sat down opposite you both at the booth.

“Here you both are,” he said quietly as he slid coffee toward you and Wednesday, leaving his own in front of him. “Vastly different tastes.”

“And that matters why?” You asked, taking the coffee anyway.

“Behave,” Wednesday whispered to you before looking at Joel. “Thank you.”

Thankfully, you did exactly as Wednesday had instructed. You stayed nice and silent as she studied with Joel, going over more than what was required. Meanwhile you sat beside her, your hand resting on her knee under the table. Good little bird, she thought when she looked over and saw you drinking your coffee and playing some silly little game on your phone. Were those chickens?

Throughout the study session, you got up and got everyone, including Joel, some more coffee three times. The first two times were perfectly acceptable, you made hers exactly how she preferred it. Even Joel’s had been made to order, including the small amount of sugar and cream necessary. His third cup was less than satisfactory.

“This tastes incredibly sweet,” he said with a small grimace once he set the cup back down.

“Let me see,” you said, immediately reaching over and grabbing his cup.

Without warning, you brought it to your lips and took a deep drink. Wednesday had to fight her own impulse to smile at the look of shock and disgust on Joel’s face. She would admit, not many people could handle your eccentricities, especially those that hadn’t known you for long. You had very few mundane cares in life, and spreading your germs was something you never took into account.

“Tastes fine to me,” you said with a shrug before sliding it back over to Joel.

“That’s unsanitary,” he whispered into the mug that he couldn’t quit staring at.

“Oh get over it,” you grumbled. “We’ve kissed the same lips, surely we can share a mug.”

Sometimes Wednesday forgot just how childish you could be. Not immature, but childish. A lack of care in what you said or did. Not taking into account how someone else might construe your impulses. Take the coffee; she had come to expect it of you, but in someone else’s view, it was unorthodox, a behaviour you would expect from children.

Oh how she adored it.

“So do you two have any plans for this weekend?” He asked. Wednesday noticed the covert way he pushed the mug of coffee back in your direction, which you quickly took and continued drinking. She knew you didn’t hate him completely.

“Yes we do,” you said too quickly. “And you’re not invited.”

“We have no plans,” Wednesday answered just as quickly when you were done. She could feel your eyes boring into the side of her head, but she didn’t care. “Why do you ask?”

“A friend of mine went to a paintball tournament the other weekend,” he started; your head popped up quickly. “He said it was a cool place, so I was wondering if you and your group would want to go check it out.”

“Absolutely no-”

“-we would love to,” you interrupted her, a surprisingly genuine smile on your face. She gave you a questioning look, to which you shrugged in reply. “Sounds like fun.”

“Then we can all meet up on Saturday?” Joel asked.

“It’s a date,” you said as you reached your hand out and forced him to shake yours.

Your smile turned sadistic.

Oh.

—---

“Why are we doing this again?” Enid asked as you all walked down the sidewalk. The paintball field was finally in view in the distance.

“Because it’s cool as fuck,” Ajax said, to which Kent quickly gave him a high-five in reply.

“Because Wednesday’s girlfriend is looking a little green,” Bianca said, promptly ignoring the boys and walking a little closer to Ash. 

Oh yes, Wednesday had noticed the both of them over the past few weeks. At first she had thought it unusual when Ash came over to the apartment a few more times, claiming it was simply to get under your skin. A believable fib, Wednesday would admit. Part of Ash’s relationship with you was death by a thousand irritations, so to speak, and her presence in the dorm certainly had your feathers ruffling.

But then she started appearing while you were gone at work. The initial claim had been about forgetting her things at the dorm, which she had, and Wednesday never doubted her. Until she caught Ash going into Bianca's room, or meeting up with the siren before quickly heading back out into the world. Wednesday was never one to dabble in gossip or other people's relationships, but she was a curious soul.

It only took one night of following them to discover they had gone on a date. And judging by the ease in which they shared a kiss, they had been on multiple. Wednesday wondered if you knew, or if anyone knew, for that matter. Would you have cared? As much as you complained about Ash, you were rather protective of her. Would you give Bianca the - what did Divina call it - the shovel talk?

“I’m not looking green,” you said as you forcefully pulled Wednesday past the group. “I just think we could all do with a nice weekend adventure.”

“She told me she wants to shoot Joel in the dick,” Yoko said.

“Shut up,” you growled as you threw an arm out, hitting Yoko in the stomach. Hard.

“Why can’t you just talk it out like an adult?” Ash asked; Wednesday noticed her hand brush against Bianca’s. “You’re not five.”

“I said,” you emphasised, “it would be a nice outing for us.”

“But you are gonna shoot him in the dick?” Enid asked from her spot between Yoko and Divina.

“Ouch,” both Kent and Ajax said in unison with grimaces on their faces.

“Can you shoot Kent in the dick too?” Divina asked. “He does not need to procreate.”

“I’m not taking requests,” you said quickly, forcing a new argument to arise.

As you all continued getting closer and closer, you continued going on about how you weren’t going to shoot anyone while everyone had suggestions for you. If anything, it did nothing to ease the irritation that Wednesday could physically feel radiating off of you. It was a good thing she had helped you tighten the harness earlier otherwise it might not have held your feathers after all the ruffling she knew this would have caused.

And yet, even with the incessant arguing from everyone, she couldn’t help but admire the atmosphere it created. Yes, you were all unbelievably annoying and clamorous. And yes, you all gave her a headache that no elixir could ease. But at the end of the day, you would all go back home and laugh about the events of the past few hours the way Wednesday assumed a typical family would.

Although she would rather rip out her own vocal cords than admit that she saw you all as her family away from home.

“Oh look, there’s lover boy,” Yoko said when the group got close enough to see Joel waiting outside.

“I’m shooting him in the dick,” you mumbled to yourself even though Wednesday could very clearly hear it.

“You made it,” Joel said with a smile when everyone got closer. “Everything is all ready.”

“Let’s just go,” you said. You quickly let go of Wednesday’s hand and stalked inside, your hands now shoved deeply into the pocket of your jacket.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Yoko said as she followed, leaving Divina and Enid to attempt to stifle their laughter.

The building itself was rather small and open. There were a few places to sit and eat at - maybe you did have a point in bringing food - and an area off to the side to continue watching the field. It was quite sterile, and even though the colourful graffiti on the wall was headache inducing, Wednesday couldn’t deny the skill that went behind the art.

“Hey guys,” an older man said as he came out of a door behind him. “The name’s Carter. Hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“We walked,” you said without looking at him.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be the best outlet for you, Wednesday thought to herself.

“Then you’re all warmed up and ready to go,” the man said with an overly exaggerated clap. You and Ash both flinched but otherwise didn’t move. Curious. “Before we get started, does anyone have any experience with paintball?”

Both you and Ash raised your hands instantly and let out barely noticeable sighs. Well, that would most likely explain your reactions, wouldn’t it? Though, as Carter had you and Ash go to the table to unload snacks and jackets while he continued explaining, Wednesday started to question her own ability to notice the smallest things. For instance, had you always flinched at loud claps or noises? Now she was determined to watch you more carefully to figure it out.

“Alright, now on to teams,” Carter said with another clap, that had you and Ash sharing a look. “You all good if I team everyone up?”

Everyone except for you gave their agreement to the situation. Carter seemed rather excited at the prospect and quickly got to work separating everyone. If he had seen the look you gave him when he put you and Wednesday on separate teams, he pretended otherwise. Although everyone tried not to laugh at the near visible steam coming from your ears when he then put Joel on Wednesday’s team.

By the end of the sorting, the two teams were decided and appeared equally matched. You were to lead the team with Bianca, Enid, Ajax and Kent. On the other side, Ash was to lead the team with Wednesday, Yoko, Joel, and Divina. It was quite humorous to have the couples of the group split up - aside from Kent and Ajax who weren’t a couple but who might as well have been with how often they stuck together.

Carter led the way to the equipment room where you all got what you needed. Wednesday thought the whole thing was rather childish, but she couldn’t deny the look of pure concentration on your face was attractive. If only you could focus on something other than violence at some point. Even she managed to focus on other things when necessary, so why couldn’t you?

But you stood your ground, your face now neutral as you pulled off your jacket and started unbuckling your harness. Thankfully you had gone out into the main lobby to wait as you did so; Wednesday didn’t think you would fit in the small equipment room with everyone else. She was already slightly agitated from the events that she knew were bound to transpire, she didn’t need a mouth full of feathers to add to it.

“I forgot to ask, are any of you Outcasts by any-” Carter stopped talking right when your wings folded back tightly against your back, “-chance?”

“All but two of us,” Enid said with a slight straightening of her shoulders.

“Is that a problem?” Bianca asked.

“No problem at all,” he said as he cleared his throat and resumed his peppy personality. “Just please take care not to wolf out or stone anyone. We don’t have waivers for that.”

“Seems reasonable to me,” Ajax said with a shrug, which Kent readily agreed with.

“We do, however, have a field specifically for Outcasts,” Carter said, this time losing his sales persona and looking genuinely pleased. “Sun resistant for vampires, no reflective surfaces, and everything in there is durable enough to withstand an accidental wolf out.”

"Yoko, you can take your glasses off," you said, now standing next to your team who you had quickly ushered away. "Now you can properly see me wreck your shit."

"You gonna talk smack the whole time?" Ash asked.

"Not to you," you said. "I don't talk to losers."

"Oh god," Carter mumbled to himself, and Wednesday very nearly smirked at the newfound fear in his voice. "Alright everyone, outside you go."

“Don’t take any of this personal?” You said when you practically jogged to Wednesday’s location, slowing to a walk.

“You seem to be under the impression that you have a skill in this field,” Wednesday said. “Confidence is good, overconfidence will be your downfall.”

“You’re so intense,” you whispered. “I’ll try not to take it too personally.”

“A much better evaluation of the situation,” she said, her knuckles brushing against yours.

“Will you still love me after this?” You asked when everyone started parting ways to go to their own sides of the field.

Wednesday exhaled softly through her nose. “You simply want me to say it.”

“Yes I do,” you said with a gentle smile.

“My affection will rely on your abilities,” she said before turning around and walking to her side of the field.

“I’ll get you to admit you love me!” You shouted after her.

She simply smiled to herself.

“Okay, Y/N takes paintball really seriously,” Ash said once everyone was gathered around.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko said.

“Enid is ridiculously competitive too,” Divina said.

“Bianca will play fair,” Yoko continued.

“What about Ajax and Kent?” Joel asked. It was only then that Wednesday noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses. It was rather smart of him.

“Incompetent at best,” Wednesday said. “They can be dispatched easily, they pose no threat.”

“Remind me to never be your enemy,” Ash said softly. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking.”

Everyone listened intently as Ash described the strategy, giving their comments and criticisms as necessary. It was a solid plan, Wednesday would admit it. Joel would focus on Bianca, Ash would take out Enid, Yoko and Divina would get Kent and Ajax, and she would focus on you. The matchups were rather fair, it was a good plan.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who took paintball a bit seriously.

As everyone parted, going somewhere safe, Wednesday took a different approach. If you were as serious about this whole thing as Ash made it out to seem then you would be going after who you believed could pose a problem. And if you were smart, that would have herself and Ash on your hit list. Possibly Yoko depending on what mood you were in for the day.

That being said, Wednesday knew how you ticked. She might not understand your emotions, but she knew how your brain worked. It was something she had picked up on over the past few years, even before she had taken a genuine interest in you. You played the game well, but you were smart. Deceivingly smart.

Sounds of compressed air being released and paintballs hitting obstacles reached Wednesday's ears as she continued her own plan. You weren't foolish enough to fall into a trap, not when you were so focused. Years of being around and knowing Ash had given you insight into her thought process, so you wouldn’t fall for anything she tried to set up.

But Wednesday. Oh, you would fall for Wednesday. All she had to say was jump and you would ask how high. If she told you to kneel, you would do so. She didn’t need to rely on nefarious purposes. Truthfully she wouldn’t even need to try and trick you into anything. If she was right, which she usually was, you would come to her.

With that knowledge in mind, Wednesday walked around until she found the small grouping of trees near the edge of the field. She could still hear everyone, could hear the telltale sounds of whatever unnecessary nonsense was going on a little further away. None of it concerned her; she was focused on you. And if she was going to be forced to play such a ridiculous game, then she was going to play it well.

It didn’t take incredibly long before the sounds started to die out, turning into little more than the occasional hushed voice floating in the air. There was still the rare paintball shot, but everything else started to fade. There was no way you had been taken out by anyone, so Wednesday knew you couldn’t be far away. All she had to do was wait-

“-Caught you.”

Ah yes. With an insane amount of luck and skill, she didn’t flinch when your hands covered her eyes. She had forgotten about your surprising silence when necessary. Mentally she started berating herself for such a thing; she had seen you play that silly Mothman game with your younger siblings. When needed, you were beyond adept at staying silent.

Your hands removed themselves, giving her the ability to turn around and look up at you. Clearly you had been far too into the game because you were covered in what appeared to be mud, with sticks and leaves stuck in your hair. You were suspiciously devoid of paint, but judging by the way you held yourself, you were proud of the fact.

“I figured you would be out here,” you said with the smallest smirk; not gloating, just proud. “You don’t strike me as the type to run in without a plan.”

“You snuck up on me,” Wednesday said, still eyeing you up and down. You were carrying yourself with a certain authority you usually put aside. It looked good on you. “I’ll admit it’s rather impressive.”

“I could’ve shot you from the trees,” you said with a shrug, “but I know better than to shoot my own girlfriend.”

“Yes, that was rather smart on your part,” she agreed.

“How about we call it a truce?” You said with an upward lilt to your words, leaving it more as a question than a statement.

Oh you were clever. You knew exactly what you were doing. Clearly you felt you could beat her if you had truly wanted to, and now you were attempting to give her an out. A way to avoid humiliation and loss. You were giving her the opportunity to save herself - and her clothes - all with nothing but a genuine smile.

Wednesday studied you for only a moment more before cupping your jaw with one hand and pulling you down into a kiss. As expected, you gave in immediately, sighing gently and grabbing her by the waist. You smelled of dirt and trees, but somehow it still smelled precisely like you. Almost as if you were born with the smell.

“I love you,” Wednesday whispered against your lips. Whether on purpose or not, you whined almost inaudibly before kissing her again.

Your hands gripped her tighter, refusing to let her pull away even by a fraction. And at the moment, Wednesday was living for it. No one was around, it was just the two of you, and you tasted of her coffee from the walk over. You tasted familiar and like you belonged to her. It was in the small moments like that that solidified Wednesday’s belief that she would never wish for anyone else but you. She reached her free hand out to your hip, mirroring your grasp on hers.

*splat*

You grunted and stepped back quickly, your hands instantly going to your stomach. While you refused to look down, your eyes trailed down to the paintball gun in Wednesday’s hand. The very same one that had been on your hip only seconds ago. With wide eyes, you finally looked down at your midsection. Pulling your hands away slowly, your jaw fell when you saw the paint now staining your shirt and hands.

“You shot me,” you said incredulously.

“You believed I wouldn’t,” Wednesday said with a slight tilt of her head. “That was your mistake.”

“But you still love me, right?” You asked.

She didn’t answer you, just gave you the smallest smile and turned around to walk off. You were smart, brilliant even, but you had too much trust in those you loved. If she needed to shoot you a hundred times that day to get you to be a little more self preserving, then so be it.

The look of mock-betrayal on your face was rather appealing.

—---

By the time everyone was finally finished with the day, they were all completely covered in paint. Except for Wednesday, of course, who had only two marks on her; one from Bianca, and one from you (even though you had looked devastated at the act). Thankfully no one had been stoned, and Enid had only wolfed out three times. Although two of those times had been because you had goaded her into it.

Then there was you, who had paint splatters covering your wings in such a thick layer that Wednesday knew she would be helping you clean them for at least the next week. Possibly even two if you were stubborn about it, which you usually were. There was going to be paint in the apartment for weeks.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I personally feel a lot better,” you said when you watched with sadistic satisfaction as all three guys walked by with paint all over their pants.

“We all need to get home and eat,” Bianca said from her spot directly beside Ash.

“Or we pick up takeout?” Ajax suggested.

“From that dope Chinese hole in the wall?” Kent continued.

“They do pack a lot of calories,” you said, to which Enid readily agreed with you.

“Then it’s a plan,” Yoko said as she quickly grabbed Enid’s and Divina’s hands to pull them out of the building.

Everyone said their goodbyes to Carter, who looked rather happy to see them all leave, before standing awkwardly in front of the building. It wouldn’t have been so awkward except everyone was busy looking between you and Joel. Even the poor boy had noticed you had a vendetta against him and was standing off to the side, unsure of what exactly to do next.

Wednesday looked up at you when you slipped your hand into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as you looked over at Joel. She couldn’t read your face, especially not through all the paint and dirt you still had covering your skin. If the ability to shoot at Joel hadn’t helped ease your concern then she didn’t know what would.

“You coming, Joel?” You asked.

“Is it… okay with you guys?” He asked. Everyone looked back at you again.

“Consider it an apology for shooting you in the dick,” you said with a shrug. All three guys covered their paint-stained crotches at the mention of the incident. “Alright, let’s go before Enid gets hangry.”

“I don’t get hangry,” Enid complained as everyone finally started walking away from the paintball fields.

You started up light conversation with Joel as he walked on the other side of you, and even though Wednesday could see you struggling to maintain composure, she was proud of you. Maybe she would need to tell you so when you got back to the apartment. Hopefully you wouldn’t require repayment for the betrayal shot earlier that day.

Maybe she would just kiss you some more before you could ask. Just in case.

everyone but her pt.31

Summary: Nightmares continue to plague your thoughts, along with a bit of insecurity. At least Wednesday is willing to remind you of your place in her life.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, nightmares, mentions of murder, suggestive themes at the end Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Your eyes flew open, a harsh gasp falling from your lips into the dark room. The pillow under your face felt wet, suffocating, drowning you until you could come to your senses long enough to lift your head. Your wings weighed heavy on your back, pulling at the tendons and stretching them enough to become uncomfortable. Pushing yourself up with your arms proved difficult, but you finally managed to free yourself from the tangled mess of blankets and limbs and wings and sat kneeled on the bed.

Wednesday was still asleep on the other side of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest in her usual sleeping position. She always looked so peaceful when she was sleeping; her bangs slid to the sides of her face and she lost that perpetual frown of hers. Just seeing her looking so calm and at ease in the night had your heart thumping so loudly you swore it would wake the dead. 

However, as Wednesday stayed sleeping, you started to wonder what had woken you up in the first place. Very clearly it hadn’t been Wednesday; she barely breathed let alone moved, at least more often than not. The room was still entirely dark thanks to the blackout curtains she had bought, and as you listened there was nary a sound even from the cars below.

Alex’s scream bounced between the trees.

Blood splashed across your face.

A fire scorched your wings-

-you pressed your knuckles into your eyes until you could see stars behind your eyelids. If you thought it would help, you would have gouged your eyes out of their sockets to rid yourself of the sound of Alex’s screaming. You had heard his screams before, like when he scorpioned on a black diamond a few years ago, but this had been different.

It was a death scream.

With hands still pressed to your eyes, you shook your head slowly. You wanted the images and sounds out, wanted them to stop bouncing off the inside of your skull like that DVD logo on old movies. It left a pressure in your head that you couldn’t ease even with the shaking and pressing against your eyes.

When the images refused to fade, you sighed softly and let your fists fall to your thighs. Alex’s shattered sunglasses sat in your peripheral, shining in the nonexistent light from the room. You gotta check on him. Yeah, that was what you needed to do. You needed to go check on him.

Now.

With a gentleness that you rarely possessed, you slid yourself off the bed without disturbing Wednesday. You checked, of course you did, her sleep was more important than anything else. But once you were sure she was asleep, you grabbed your phone off the charger and walked into the common room.

No one was out there and the TV was turned off, of course. None of you paid for electricity, but that didn’t mean you were raised by animals; no need to waste. In the dark, you could almost see the silhouette of a ghost that had your eyes. A ghost you had been seeing more frequently since that day on the rooftop.

You squeezed your eyes shut again, silently begging him to go away. There were already too many thoughts in your head without adding him to it. If he wanted to help, he could suppress the images. He had done it before without permission, so he could do it again if he was determined to hang around.

Small tremors ran through your hands.

A sigh left your lips as you rubbed your eyes. You were spiralling. Again. It wasn’t the time to be getting angry about something that didn’t even matter anymore. You had come out to the living room with a purpose, so you just needed to check on Alex and go back to bed. It’s where Wednesday was, and you just needed to finish everything and get back to her.

Pops’ number was on speed dial; it had been since… so it was mindless to press the number and hold the phone to your ear. 

Ring. 

It was probably late. 

Ring. 

Maybe he was sleeping. 

Ring. 

Or something worse, and your nightmares had been right. 

Ring. 

Oh god they were probably all lying in their beds bleeding out and-

“-Hello?” You let out a shaky exhale.

“Hey Pop,” you said softly. Weakly. So fucking weak.

“Y/N?” He asked; you heard shuffling from the other end of the phone. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Is Alex home?” You asked, completely ignoring his question. Your personal ghost reappeared in your peripheral.

“Course he is,” he answered, his voice still croaky from sleep.

You started pacing between the couch and the kitchen table. “Can you check?”

“Did somethin’ happen-”

“-Can you just go check?” Silence. “Please?”

“Okay, baby,” he said softly. Soft enough to make you feel like glass. Maybe you were.

You kept the phone to your ear as that familiar silhouette stayed in your peripheral, a little closer now. It used to be a comfort when you were younger, now he was touching on every single nerve in your body. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Now it was just cruel. You couldn’t keep your head straight if he didn’t just leave you alone.

“Alex and Daniel are safe in bed.” Pop’s voice pulled you away from your spiral, and that ghost disappeared along with the pain that had been growing in the back of your skull.

“Good,” you exhaled. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“You okay, baby?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” you said with a nod of your head that he couldn’t even see. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s alright,” he answered without hesitation. “Need anything else before bed?”

You looked around the empty living room. “No sir.”

“Then get some sleep, little bird,” Pop said.

You bid your goodnights, hanging up the phone before he could ask anymore questions. Only after hanging up did you notice it was a little after three in the morning. Far too late to have been calling him. It made you sick. Were you going to be keeping everyone on edge for the rest of their lives? Maybe your parents were right. You were just a burden-

“Cara mia?”

A cold hand touched you on the arm, so softly it was difficult to tell if it was even real. But you turned around and saw Wednesday standing there, fighting the sleep in her eyes even though you knew she would kill you if you mentioned it. Her nails scratched your skin lightly and you could almost physically feel yourself coming back down to earth, back to reality.

“Did I wake you?” You asked, turning your body to face hers.

“The lack of your insufferable body heat left the bed cold,” she said with a shrug and a dismissive shake of her head.

“So yes,” you said. Wednesday just looked at you.

There was a hesitation in her eyes. She opened her mouth slightly as if to say something but closed it again. You didn’t know what she was hesitant about. Did she even want you to join her in bed again? Or did she wish for you to just stay on the couch? Not that you would blame her if that was the case, you had been keeping her awake for weeks.

Wednesday’s hands lifted to rest on your cheeks, holding you still and keeping you looking at her. In return, your hands fell to her waist as if she would float away. If she had said her fingers held some kind of magic, you would have believed her in an instant. Even though her hands were cold, they were so unbelievably soft and held you as if you were made of glass. Not in a fearful way as if you would break, but in a gentle way to ensure you were safe. To remind you that you were loved.

“Come back to bed,” she said quietly, her eyes never leaving yours.

And oh. Oh, how could you possibly say no to that?

“Okay,” you said with a nod.

Her thumbs rubbed over your cheek bones before she let go and grabbed you by the hand instead. Gently, she pulled you back toward the room, watching you the whole time. Maybe she thought you would run away if she turned back around. Had you given her that sense of paranoia? Had you truly worried her by this point?

You kicked the door shut as quietly as possible while Wednesday continued to pull you further to the bed. It only took the most miniscule amount of effort for her to pull you onto the bed next to her, being careful to let you adjust your wings. One behind you and the other hanging in the air, undecided if it was going to cover you both or not.

Wednesday turned to face you and moved closer until she could place her head between your collar and jaw. Her hands folded over each other before being pulled to her chest, similar to how she slept on her back. You waited patiently until she was settled before wrapping your arm around her. Your wing was quick to follow, creating a feathery blanket over the both of you.

“You’re too warm,” she said. Her breath tickled your neck.

“I know,” you said back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head for good measure as you both settled.

You both had such funny ways of saying I love you.

—---

“You’ve got a guest tonight,” Tio said, sitting on the chair you were in the process of finishing.

You stopped and dusted your hands off as you turned to look at where Wednesday was studying at your desk. The headphones she had reluctantly accepted from you rested over her ears, leaving her completely unaware of the rest of the room. Which was the point, of course, but still. It was downright adorable to see her at your desk with your headphones and your jacket.

Maybe Yoko was right. You were a simp.

"She's been uncharacteristically clingy," you said not unkindly. Tio laughed.

"It's her way of showing love," he said as if you weren't already aware. It certainly made you feel better to hear it from someone else though. "How have you been?"

"Tio," you sighed.

"Be honest, pollito."

"I appreciate you asking," you said as you stood up and grabbed your tools, "but I'm really fine."

"So the bags under your eyes are designer?" He asked, following you while you walked by everyone's projects, inspecting every inch you could find.

"My inability to sleep has nothing to do with my mental well being," you said with a shake of your head. Your fingers traced a groove in one of the cabinets; you would need to fill it.

"You're starting to talk like her," he pointed out as he proceeded to sit on another project and grab the apple off of Simon's desk, promptly biting into it with a satisfying crunch.

"I talk like me," you defended.

"I noticed the books on your desk yesterday," he said. You sighed. This man was going to go through every topic in the world at the rate he was going. "Since when did you care about chemistry?"

"Just got curious, Tio," you said as you stood up again and walked off. He was quick on your heels. "Is that a crime?"

"Doesn't Wednesday's ex study chemistry?"

"Tio." You spun on your heels.

He looked you in the eyes and took another bite of the apple, slow and with intent. He was well aware he had crossed a line, there was no way he didn’t know. And yet there was no indication that he was going to take his question back. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your fingers twitch.

“She likes you whether you know chemistry or not,” he said with a gesture of his head toward your desk.

You sighed and moved only your eyes to look at Wednesday. She was still studying, looking at her textbooks, sitting at your desk. Tio’s words echoed in your head and you could almost picture her with Joel. He was smart; incredibly smart. Too smart, if you were being honest. But he could hold conversations with her in a way you couldn’t. They could be weird and smart together and she enjoyed it, everyone could see it.

And then she looked up and locked eyes with you, and the air left your lungs while the shop disappeared. It was only you and her and if you listened, you could practically hear her heart beating in sync with yours. Just like that, you didn’t think about Joel. She wasn’t with him, she was with you. She shared her room and her life and her time with you, not anyone else.

“Told you,” Tio’s voice said, and your eyes snapped back to him.

“You’re insufferable,” you said. You winced when he smirked at you. “I meant you’re a dick.”

“Now you sound like yourself again, pollito,” he said as he continued to eat the apple.

You left him standing there, laughing to himself, as you walked over to your desk. Wednesday took notice and put her book down again before slipping the headphones off her ears, leaving them hanging around her neck. There was the slightest indent on the top of her hair from the weight. If you didn’t think she would kill you for it, you would’ve teased her.

“Yes?” She asked when you sat down on top of the desk, your feet barely touching the ground.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times; it was something she disliked, but she tolerated it for you. Enid had filled you in on that little detail. It wasn’t against you personally, she just found it moronic. Which, you supposed, that fit you perfectly. But you couldn’t help it, the words just wouldn’t come out.

Don’t ask, the voice in your head demanded. Don’t sound desperate. Part of you agreed. If you asked the question then you would be showing her your hand. Wednesday didn’t like unnecessary weakness, and this would be your way of showing one of them. Realistically, she would probably hate it.

But on the other hand…

“Do you like me more than Joel?” You asked.

Wednesday opened her mouth once before shutting it. Ouch. You could feel your heart attempting to claw its way up your throat to place itself at her feet. Maybe if it did, she wouldn’t tell you what you were so anxious she was going to say. You knew you shouldn’t have asked, it was a stupid question that was just going to hurt your feelings. She opened her mouth once more.

You both turned your heads quickly when the front door of the shop swung open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud slam. Two policemen walked in, each with a hand on their gun. You knew that position; they were expecting a fight. You shared a look with Tio before you hopped off the desk and walked your way over, cutting them off before they could get too far in.

“Can I help you, officers?” You asked politely, making sure to stand in between them and Simon. Get him out, Tio.

“We need you to come back down to the station for a few more questions,” the shorter one asked. Her grip tightened on the butt of her gun.

“About what?” You asked. Something shuffled behind you.

“The double homicide from New Year’s Eve,” she said. Her eyes darted to your right side before going back to you.

Your heart dropped at that little tidbit of information. What could they be questioning you about again? Sure, you had drank a little too much, didn’t remember the entire night, but you remembered damn near all of it. What else could you tell them? You admitted to the fight, you admitted to having been drinking, there was nothing else to say.

They don’t trust you.

“Just let me grab my things?” You asked, pointing your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your desk.

“Sure thing,” the police woman said with a hesitant nod.

You refused to completely turn your back on them as you speed walked back to your desk, keeping your eyes on them as you grabbed your wallet and phone. Wednesday was looking at you with an intensity that you couldn’t quite place. As  discreetly as possible, you shook your head.

“Go home,” you whispered before walking back to the officers. “All set.”

“Everyone here legal?” The taller officer asked. You followed his gaze to see he was looking directly at Tio and Wednesday.

“As legal as you and me,” you said quickly.

The taller officer glared at you as his thumb flicked open the strap on the top of his holster. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you watched him. Take him out, the voice growled. For the first time in a while, you didn’t disagree. If he so much as looked at any of them wrong, you wouldn’t hesitate.

“Let’s go,” the shorter cop said.

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the taller one, and he didn’t take his eyes off you. If he wanted to play hard ball, you would play. When he placed the strap back over his gun, you let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. You readjusted your jaw and looked down at the floor, counting the specks of woodshavings.

When the two officers turned around and started walking out, you were quick to follow. You glanced back one more time to see Wednesday watching you. You tried to give her a confident smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. Please go home, you thought when you turned back around and finished making your way to the cruiser.

You were getting really tired of all these police visits.

—---

The sun was starting to set by the time you finally walked out of the police station. A gruelling… four hours, if you were right. No wonder your back was stiff, they needed to get comfier chairs. If they were going to keep people in there for hours at a time then the least they could do was help prevent fucking scoliosis or some shit like that.

We’ll be in touch, the male cop had said when you tried to leave the room. You didn’t trust him. He had stared at you a little too long, a little too harshly. He certainly thought you were guilty about something. Jokes on him, the only thing you were guilty of was agreeing to talk to them without a lawyer.

Maybe it would be smart to call Señor Moreno.

The wind was cold as the temperature dropped along with the sun. It was the start of a beautiful sunset from what you could see. It dropped along with any hope you had that you would get home at a decent hour. You pulled your phone out and looked at the lock screen; a picture of Wednesday on one of the rare occasions where she almost smiled.

A distraction. You were very much in need of a distraction from… everything.

You started walking away from the police station as you scrolled through your contacts, pulling up her name and starting the call. A part of you, a very large part, knew she wouldn’t answer. She would rather die than have to use the phone you had given her back at Nevermore. But while it continued to ring, you secretly hoped she would answer. It was rather important, after all.

“Addams residence.”

You didn’t even bother stopping your smile. “Up for a date with a murder suspect?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said without hesitation. “Now?”

“Why not,” you said with a shrug that no one could see. “I’ll send you the address, Enid can help you pull it up.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“I’ll take care of it,” you said, immediately running through a list of things you could grab from the shop. “Meet me at the address in 30?”

“That will be acceptable,” she said.

“See you soon, Willa,” you said, smiling when you heard her little huff from the other end of the line. She only tolerated the nickname from Enid.

“Good bye,” she said softly before hanging up the call.

You chuckled to yourself as you typed out the address of the hiking trail before putting your phone back in your pocket and heading to the shop. Most everything should already be in the extra bag you and Tio kept behind his desk. A blanket, some snacks, some drinks. The perfect getaway bag that no one was allowed to know about.

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon when you got to the park. You removed the bag and worked on taking your harness off, placing it in the duffle. If you could convince Wednesday to let you fly her, you could get to your destination with plenty of time to watch the sunset. You weren’t going to let that stupid interrogation keep you down. You were innocent.

“Be strong,” Nicky’s voice said, and in the peripheral you could see his shadow against the tree.

It had been a while since he had actually talked to you.

“Not a place I would choose for a date,” he continued. The shadow moved to your other side.

“Good,” you said, “because it’s not your date.”

He chuckled, a weird, watery sound that you couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It almost sounded like it was inside your skull, echoing and bouncing off the bone and leaving your eyes moving from side to side. But it also sounded like it was floating on the wind, twirling through the leaves and resting on the grass like dew. Nothing like his normal voice.

Still. It was better than nothing.

“Here she comes.”

Nicky’s voice faded out as you turned around to see Wednesday approaching. She was still wearing your jacket, leaving it hanging past her fingers and nearly touching her knees. Her usual scowl was present but it softened when she locked eyes with you. Not that she smiled, but you would take what you could get.

“Enid said you’re picking up on my proclivities for unusual activities,” she said when she stepped closer. With no one around, she instantly reached over and slotted her fingers between yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not unusual,” you said as you pulled her into the woods with you. “It’s romantic.”

“You’re dragging me through the woods at night,” she said. “It’s an excellent idea.”

“See?” You said with a smile. “Romantic.” You pulled her closer, nice and tight to your chest.

“Don’t,” she said as she looked up at you with a frown.

“Love you,” you said before bending your knees and propelling you both into the air.

Wednesday was getting particularly good at keeping her screams to herself when you forced her to fly. You knew she hated it, and you really did try not to do it often. Whether it was her fear of flying, or heights, or the unexpectedness of it all, you weren’t entirely sure. All you knew was she hated it and you usually ended up sleeping on the couch later that night.

You landed on the cliff’s edge and let her go, holding her by the waist until you were sure she was steady. The landing, though one of your more graceful ones, left just enough noise to bounce off the walls of the cave behind you. Wednesday looked around, and you let her go, dropping the bag to the ground and pulling out the blanket and snacks.

“A cave?” She asked. Her eyes were glued to the opening.

“A bat colony lives in it,” you said as you smoothed out the blanket on the ground. You hoped it would be thick enough to be comfortable. “Not as cool as birds, but I guess they’re okay.”

A smile finally graced her lips. “You certainly know how to capture someone’s heart.”

“Come on,” you said, finally patting the spot beside you.

Wednesday promptly walked over and sat down, folding her legs to her left side and leaning toward you. From the spot where you were both sitting, you could watch the sun sink below the horizon, illuminating the individual leaves of the trees in a stunning orange glow. It warmed your chest and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, you felt safe.

“Have they deemed you a viable suspect?”

“Wednesday,” you groaned, throwing your head back so hard you fell back to the ground. Your wings crumpled underneath you, leaving a twinge at the base of the limbs and your back arching to relieve it.

“It’s a valid question,” she said, laying down on her side to look at you. “Have they deemed you capable of murder?”

“I mean,” you sighed, “I am capable. Do you not remember last year?”

“I… try not to,” she said.

“What, you didn’t think I looked good in handcuffs?” You teased.

But when you turned your head to look at Wednesday, a goofy smile on your face, she was already looking at you. It was a look you didn’t think you had ever seen from her before. Her pupils were blown and her lips were parted ever so slightly. Why was she looking at you like that? Your smile fell slowly as realisation hit.

Oh.

You chuckled nervously before looking away, now looking up at the stars that were just starting to appear. Oh, this didn’t quite seem like the distraction you had thought. What if she… oh geez. Oh geez. You didn’t know what to do, what if she thought you were being ridiculous?

The blanket tugged a bit underneath you, and you turned your head again to see Wednesday moving closer until she was practically leaning over you. Oh geez. Butterflies swarmed your stomach. Why are you so nervous, you thought, you’ve kissed her before. But this felt different, and you weren’t entirely sure what to do.

“Wednesday?” You asked, your voice sounding croaky and weak. How pathetic, the voice said.

“Earlier you asked if I liked you more than Joel,” she said, her own voice sounding a little rough.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. You went to move your head away, but Wednesday’s perfectly manicured fingers grasped your chin, keeping you looking at her.

“I would like to show you how much more I like you.”

You swallowed harshly.

You nodded once and looked down at her lips. That seemed to be all she needed before she leaned down, her soft lips pressing against yours and erasing every single thought in your head. Her grip on your chin was gentle but firm, and the only thing you could think about was how she had turned you into putty in her hands.

She was going to ruin your life.

You couldn’t have been more excited for anything in your life.

-------------------------------------

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the cave

Summary: You show Wednesday just how much she means to you.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: smut (awkward first time), swearing Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

Wednesday’s grip on your chin never lessened as she held you still. Her knees were on either side of your hips while she sat directly in your lap. Well, no, she wasn’t sitting in your lap, she was full on straddling you. Your hands stayed planted to the ground, clawing at the blanket because you had no idea where to put them. Did you put them on her waist? Her thighs? Her arms? Oh geez.

"You're stiff," she mumbled against your lips.

She caught on, the voice said.

Yeah, no shit.

She pulled away slowly, her weight on your lap shifting ever so slightly. Her grip on your chin remained, but her eyes searched your face for something. Oh no, had you messed up already? God, you had barely even started, now you had blown it and you didn't even know how! Damn Nicky for never teaching you anything good!

"Would you like me to stop?" Wednesday asked, her softened gaze completely focused on you.

"Please no," you said a little too quickly. "I just- I don't- I don't know what to do."

Wednesday looked at you with the slightest furrow of your brow and a tilt of her head. It felt like you were being studied. Were you? Oh geez, you probably were, now you were probably just going to turn into her little lab experiment. You should've just gone right back to the dorm and gone to sleep, this was such a bad idea.

"You don't?" She asked, her tone neutral but with the smallest upward lilt at the end of her question. It would've been indiscernible to anyone else. Not to you.

"I've never done this before," you said even softer.

She didn’t say anything.

“I don’t even know what to do with my hands.” You chuckled nervously and held your hands up in between the both of you. “You know, like Ricky Bobby in-”

-your mouth closed immediately when Wednesday grabbed your hands. Her fingers were a little colder than normal from the cool spring air. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as she pulled your hands, using them to push the hem of her shirt up so she could place your hands on her bare waist. Now there; there she was warm. You gulped loudly at the same time she exhaled softly.

Fuck, her skin was soft. She let go of your hands and brought them back up to wrap around your neck, but you couldn’t take your eyes off where you were touching her. Her fingers played with the hair on the back of your neck as your thumbs lightly rubbed the skin on her hips. You were well aware that you two were in the process of something, but you just couldn’t stop.

Fucking virgin, the voice teased.

“Do you need step-by-step instructions?” Wednesday asked. You nearly jumped at the sudden intrusion to your mental debate with yourself. Or the voice. Ah, same difference.

“I-” be smooth “-or you could, you know, show me.”

She tilted her head again as you finally looked up to meet her eyes. Her pupils were still blown and thanks to the proximity you could practically hear her own heart racing in sync with yours. You wondered if she could feel your own pulse under her fingertips.

"I suppose I do have more knowledge on the subject," she said. Her breath fanned across your face, leaving your eyelids to flutter for the moment.

"I'm guessing your parents taught you more than mine," you joked with an awkward laugh.

It was a shitty joke. You quickly closed your mouth.

"You're nervous," she pointed out.

"Very," you admitted with a single nod of your head.

"Perhaps this will help."

There was the slightest pressure on your neck as Wednesday pulled you into a kiss. It was soft, almost painfully so. Like she was hesitant about something. And maybe she was, you had just admitted you had no idea what you were doing. Which you shouldn’t have done, you had a reputation to maintain.

A reputation that quickly went down the drain when she bit your bottom lip, drawing a very pathetic moan from you.

“Oh,” she mumbled against your lips; out of fear of seeing a smile, you kept your eyes closed. “This will be fun.”

She’s taunting you, the voice said when Wednesday kissed you again. She swiped her tongue along your bottom lip and you quickly parted your lips for her. She’s testing you, it continued. Your grip on Wednesday’s waist tightened. She reacted by lightly scratching the back of your neck. She knows you don’t know anything.

Oh, fuck that noise.

You held Wednesday tighter with one hand as your other went back to the blanket. Her grip on your neck stayed constant as you held her closer and - surprisingly - managed to flip you both until she was on her back and you were hovering over her. With a skill that you were secretly going to congratulate yourself for, not once did you ever have to break the kiss.

But then you froze. Okay, you had put yourself on top, but now what? Oh geez, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to prove a point. The scratching on the back of your neck lightened until Wednesday’s fingers were merely massaging the skin. That alone was enough to ease your racing pulse and your shoulders could relax once again. You exhaled softly through your nose.

Okay, you knew how this worked, it wasn’t rocket science. You knew how the female body worked, you knew what it looked like, you could do this. With your weight shifted to the hand on the ground, you let your other hand finally start to move. Wednesday shivered under your touch as your fingers grazed her side, moving up and stopping on her rib cage.

Your mind started racing when you felt the underwire of her bra. She would tell you to stop if she didn’t want you to, right? Wednesday was bold, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or tell you no. But, like, she would tell you, right? Yes she had initiated it, but you didn’t want to make her feel like she had to do anything, especially not on a cliff’s edge.

She tugged on your bottom lip again, forcing you out of your own head. You let out a shaky exhale when she let go, and you finally opened your eyes. She was looking at you with a softness that she usually reserved for when you were losing your mind. And, well, technically you were, but not in a bad way.

You didn’t have time to ask her if everything was okay, if she wanted you to stop. Wednesday pushed at your shoulders until you were sitting back on your knees and she sat up with you. She let your jacket fall off her shoulders to the ground before grabbing the bottom of her shirt, swiftly pulling it over her head until she was left in her bra.

In a move that was entirely cool of you, you turned your head away when she reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Now of all times you were going to try and be modest? The whole point of this was to be immodest! Would it be wrong to turn back? No, it would probably make you seem weird, you were being utterly ridiculous at this point-

-Wednesday grabbed you by the jaw and pulled your head back around until you were looking at her. She wasn’t quite laughing at you, but you could tell she wanted to. It was in the shameless smirk she was giving you as your face heated up at the mere fact that she was now topless in front of you.

Oh geez.

“You are allowed to look,” she said. You gulped loudly. Again. “In fact, it’s encouraged.”

“You’re making it very difficult to…” your words faded off into nothing as you finally turned your eyes back to look at her.

Oh Jesus fuck she was gorgeous. You knew she was stunning before, it had never even been a doubt in your mind but fuck. Every single thought in your head was silenced as you stared shamelessly. It wasn’t smooth, you probably looked rather ridiculous, but you just couldn’t help it. You could feel your wings puff up a little too.

Oh now that was embarrassing.

Wednesday pulled you with her as she laid back down on her back, leaving you leaning over her once again. She grabbed your hand that was hovering over her hip and guided it up, placing it on her ribs right below her breast. Your eyes kept flicking between her breast and her eyes, mesmerised by both.

God you were pathetic.

Your knuckles followed the curve of her breast before brushing lightly against her nipple. She inhaled a little sharper than usual, and your gaze flew up to watch her face. Her eyes opened slowly; incredibly out of character for her. Your wings twitched.

Well, that was a good reaction. Okay, you could do this. You repeated the action, watching Wednesday’s face carefully for any sort of change or indication of what she liked. Again, she inhaled sharply and her eyes closed for a moment. Okay, don’t be weird, you thought before leaning forward to kiss her again.

Her arms wrapped around your neck again, holding you to her. You continued with the gentle touches, brushing your knuckles over her nipple, occasionally rolling it between two fingers. Now that nearly got a noise out of her; not quite, but it was pretty damn close.

You moved your hand to place it on the ground, ignoring her little noise of protest as you shifted your weight and brought your other hand up. She stopped, sighing softly when you did the exact same thing as you had to her other breast. You weren’t stupid, you could get the hang of it, and her little sighs were more than enough to have your stomach turning in delectable knots.

But then Wednesday pulled away and held you still so you couldn’t follow.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your mind suddenly consumed with everything you could have done wrong.

She pinched the fabric of your shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “This needs to come off.”

Your mouth formed a small “o” before you nodded and sat up on your knees once again. The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you noticed Wednesday watching your every move. Nonetheless, you reached over your head to grab the back of your shirt and pulled, the velcro on the back pulling apart the moment it hit the base of your wings. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, it certainly wasn’t sexy, but it worked the way it was supposed to.

Almost as soon as the shirt was off, your wings shook themselves out before tucking tight against your back again. The dust from your feathers fell, and you felt that little tickle in your nose. There was no time for you to move before you sneezed, your wings extending at the action before taking their place again.

“Your sneeze is rather dainty,” Wednesday said, and when you looked back down at her she had a smirk on her lips once again.

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you let your body fall forward, catching yourself at the last second so you wouldn’t squish her.

You weren’t one to be self-conscious without clothes. Thanks to your wings, you had grown up needing help with things anyway, so most people had seen you without at least some article of clothing. But as Wednesday stared at you like you were nothing more than a piece of meat, you felt your face heat up and your heart race.

Her hands studied every inch of skin that she could reach. Over your neck, your shoulders, down your arms. Each time she would touch the sensitive scars, a shiver would travel down your spine, leaving your wings to ruffle in reply. It was almost humiliating that you couldn’t handle even just that simple touch, but you would keep your mouth shut if it meant she wouldn’t stop.

“Do you still require guidance?” Wednesday asked even as she continued running her fingers over your hips.

“I-” you closed your mouth and considered what you were about to say. 

Did you need more guidance? Not that you necessarily needed it, but did you want it? It would probably help so you could figure out what you were doing. But then again, the fun part was figuring it out, learning what she enjoyed and what she didn’t. Besides, it was Wednesday, she would warn you if she didn’t like something. It might be a violent warning, but a warning nonetheless.

“No,” you finally said slowly, drawing the word out as you looked back at her. “As long as you let me know if something doesn’t feel good.”

“That’s acceptable,” she said, finally looking back up at you.

“Okay,” you said with a few erratic nods. But then you froze.

Did you just… get to it? You knew what you wanted to do, but how did you build up to it? Or maybe you should just go for it, Wednesday always liked when you took initiative. But you really needed to check with her to make sure it was okay, you didn’t want to seem aggressive or anything like that. Fuck, why were you making this so complicated, it wasn’t a difficult thing!

“May I offer a suggestion?” Wednesday asked.

You sighed. “Yes.”

“It might be helpful if we both removed the rest of our clothes,” she said, her eyes gesturing down to where you were both still wearing pants.

“Well I knew that,” you grumbled. “I just… didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“And you all believe I’m the one with trust issues,” she said. She was teasing you again. “Trust that I will tell you if I’m uncomfortable.”

Her little smirk was gone, now replaced by a soft look. No smile, that would be misleading, but just soft eyes. You nodded slowly, for once unable to get any words out of your mouth. Trusting her was definitely something you could do. If you trusted anyone, it was her.

You looked at her with raised brows for a moment, just to double check she was okay before you let your hand fall to the waistband of her shorts. Well, no, they were your shorts, and you could tell because of how far they fell down her legs. The sight of her in your clothes never failed to initiate that spark in your core, and your mouth went dry before you started moving again.

With yet another look at her to double check, she rolled her eyes playfully but nodded and you sat back to pull the shorts slowly down her legs. You let your fingers brush against the skin of her thighs as you continued to marvel at each inch that was revealed to you. Thankfully she had gotten rid of her shoes at some point - you honestly couldn’t say when - so it was easy enough to rid her of the shorts.

If she would let you, you would have stayed kneeled in front of her for millenia. You would have set her upon a pedestal so you could worship at her feet until the day you died. There was nothing you loved more than anything else, instead just admiring every inch, every freckle, every curve.

She shivered when your fingers traced the band of her black panties from one hip to the other. It was a beautiful contrast to her tanned skin. All the noise and thoughts and doubts in your mind started to pound on the inside of your skull, telling you to stop. For once, you pushed them back and leaned down, pressing a single soft kiss right below her navel.

Her usual scent was accompanied by something different, something far more intoxicating. You placed another kiss on her skin, leaving a trail to her hip. The muscles of her stomach jumped, and you could feel her thighs tense up. You made sure to give extra attention to her other hip as you let your hands massage her inner thighs, being gentle but firm.

You stopped when you made your way back to her stomach, your fingers toying with the piece of fabric that was, quite frankly, in the way. Would it be too soon to take them off? No, you thought, just do it. As you slid the fabric down Wednesday’s legs, you followed it with soft kisses. Above you, you heard a hushed exhale. With one final kiss right on her pubic bone, you pulled away.

Wednesday’s sigh turned into a grumble when she noticed you weren’t where you were supposed to be. It was dark, but you could imagine the scowl she was sending your way. Any other time you would have teased her, but at the moment you were too focused. You slid back until you could lay on your stomach and hooked your arms around her thighs. She gasped lightly when you pulled her closer.

Even though you had never done it before, you weren’t stupid, you knew how this worked. If you waited any longer then you would work yourself up until you were too anxious to continue. Without giving yourself more time to back out, you leaned forward and licked one long strip from her entrance to her clit, and oh god was she delectable.

The littlest whimper you pulled from her was all it took for you to lose any sense of gentleness. Your grip on her thighs tightened as you dove back in, eating her out like it was your first meal in years. It was sloppy, but the way Wednesday’s heels dug into your back painfully was more than enough motivation to keep going.

A mix of a groan and a moan left your mouth when one of Wednesday’s hands went to your head, holding you closer to where she wanted you. No, at this point it was where she needed you. And who were you to deny the love of your life? She instructed you on what felt best, and you were thankful you were a fast learner. 

You focused on her clit when you felt her thighs start to shake, and you knew the exact moment you pushed her over the edge. It was in the way her thighs clenched around your head and her nails dug into your scalp. Her heels pressed tight against your back, right above your wings. And it was in the whimper she let out, the loudest sound you had heard from her throughout the entire night.

Your movements slowed down as you eased her back down to earth. Only when her thighs released you did you stop, moving instead to leave kisses on the insides of her thighs. She tasted of salt from the sweat you had both worked up, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was if she had enjoyed herself, if she had felt good, if you had proved just how much you loved her.

Both of Wednesday’s hands held your face and pulled gently, and you quickly moved back up her body until you were directly above her again. It was a little too dark for you to see all the features of her face, but you could see her looking at you. All the thoughts and doubts started to come rushing back.

But when she pulled you down into a kiss, soft and gentle and loving, the thoughts faded, dissipating into the very wind that surrounded you both.

“I love you,” you said softly against her lips.

“I love you too, cara mia,” she whispered back, pulling you down into another kiss.

Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian  @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove @karsonromanoff  @elduster @mil0isvalid @dogsayswoof

everyone but her pt.32

Summary: With their freshman year of college out of the way and an entire apartment building bought by the Addamses, it's time for year two. Oh boy.

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of blood, swearing, allusions to abuse Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Your parents need to quit buying everything,” you grumbled as you fell down onto the couch. “It’s making me feel bad.”

“They simply bought a new mattress,” Wednesday said from her spot at the typewriter.

“Yeah, they did,” you said. “After they bought the entire apartment building.”

She kept silent, but she knew you were right. Once they hadn’t been required to stay on campus, the Addamses had decided it would be most beneficial to take over an apartment building not too far from campus. And wouldn’t you know it, there was just enough space for the entire group, including Joel and Ash.

“It’s how they show their affection,” she finally said, her fingers returning to the keys of the typewriter.

“They need to quit,” you grumbled again but otherwise fell silent.

Wednesday would admit, she saw nothing wrong with the gift, but she could see how you did. She had learned a lot about “love languages” from Bianca over the past few weeks, and yours was not gift giving. Ash had said it made you uncomfortable because you felt the need to pay back everything you were given. Which Wednesday had known from previous conversations, but she hadn’t known it was actually a thing.

No one had prepared her for the amount of information she would have to learn to have a healthy relationship. It was almost like an information overload, and she was more than capable of handling it, but she hadn’t mentally prepared. She was starting to regret shying away from her parents’ affections.

“Are you working today?” Wednesday asked, turning her head to hear your answer better.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Simon has been sketched out since the police started making their rounds.”

Wednesday frowned. “They indicated they were through with you.”

“Clearly not,” you said. “They came into the shop a few weeks ago.”

“You never told me,” she said as she finally turned around in her chair.

You were sitting with your legs spread on the couch and your head hanging off the armrest. It was a rather pathetic look, Wednesday wouldn’t deny. More than once you had claimed it was comfortable, but she couldn’t understand how. You were stretched out, your wings were tucked tight underneath you, and it almost looked like the blood was rushing to your head.

“I'm tired of telling you how many times I get interrogated by police," you said. "I feel like I hang out with them more than you now."

Wednesday supposed that, too, was true. More often than not you had texted her - well, texted Enid to tell her - that you were at the station again. They seemed adamant you were aware of what had happened on New Year's Eve. As much as you denied it, they didn't believe you.

But she did. It had been a while since her last vision, but there had been nothing about those boys. If you had done it, or even been a part of it, she would've seen it. You weren't the most skilled liar either, she would have seen through the ruse if you had actually done it.

"When's your next date night with Enid?" You asked, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts.

"Unknown," she said as she got up from the desk and walked over to sit by you on the couch. "She's busy attempting to volunteer at the kennel in town."

"Why am I not surprised," you whispered. There was a slight smile in your tone. "Have you asked her when she's free?"

"Why would I do that?" Wednesday asked with a frown. "She always tells me when she's available."

"It shows her you care," you said as you sat up, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment while the blood slowly drained from your face. "That you want to spend time with her."

"Of course I do," she said. "She knows this."

"Sometimes people still like to hear it, Wends," you said with a light chuckle.

Wednesday didn't have anything to say to that. She supposed it was nice to hear you were wanted. Although you were far more like her in that aspect, she always felt surprisingly warm when you would bring up your desire to spend time with her. Maybe she should tell Enid she wished to spend time with her.

"You have class, right?" You asked. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment when you pushed a few stray hairs behind her ear.

"Yes," she finally said. "And Ash wanted to come over for dinner."

"While I'm gone?" You asked with your own frown.

"She said that was preferable," Wednesday answered.

"That's so fucking rude," you mumbled to yourself.

“Would you like me to tell her no?” She asked.

Your frown slowly morphed into a soft smile. Usually it would accompany teasing about some sort of social cue Wednesday had managed to miss, but this one seemed genuine. The couch shifted underneath you both as you moved closer and pulled her legs over yours until she was very nearly sitting in your lap.

“Do you plan on seducing her?” You asked.

“No,” she said with a frown.

“Does she plan on seducing you?” You continued.

“Not if she has any common sense,” she said quietly.

“She doesn’t,” you teased. “But those answers are satisfactory.” You leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. “You’ll both have a nice night.”

Wednesday rested her head on your shoulder as you proceeded to turn the television on. Neither one of you had any plans for the next hour, and she had fallen into a pattern of watching whatever ridiculous show you would put on before going to work. Reruns or something called “Bridezillas.” She didn’t understand how it was humorous, but she could admire the horror in it.

“Would you ever think about getting married?” You asked halfway through the episode.

Wednesday’s body tensed up.

“I guess that’s a no,” you chuckled, but she could feel your fingers twitch where they rested on her thigh.

“I never said no,” she tried to defend.

“I wasn’t proposing,” you said with sparkling eyes. “I was just wondering if you had ever thought about it.”

She opened her mouth to answer but promptly closed it, her eyes falling to the side in thought. Had she ever thought about it? Not particularly, not in such specific terms. There had been no thoughts of venues or dresses or parties. Nothing about such an overly extravagant occasion.

Unless… maybe you didn’t necessarily mean the wedding itself. You had said “married.” Now that… that she supposed she had thought about, in not so many words. There were a few times her mind had wandered. When you came home late from work, tired and clumsy and knocking things over before falling into bed with your work clothes still on. And each time she thought, yeah, she could fall asleep to that every night.

Or those days where you were off work and you both unanimously decided to relax at home. Cleaning, or going grocery shopping, or just watching something. Wednesday could see the appeal in technology when you were with her. All it would take was one peal of laughter from you and her cold heart would warm up. She couldn’t imagine not being able to hear such a sound on a daily basis.

But she was never one to show her cards first.

“Do you?” She asked after far too long of silence.

“Do I what?” You asked, clearly already re-absorbed by your show.

“Do you ever think of getting married?” She clarified.

You stayed silent, your eyes still focused on the television. There was almost an audible sound of gears turning in your head. If Wednesday focused, she could almost even see smoke leaking out of your ears. Your fingers drummed on her thigh as she watched the constant movement of your mouth; an odd habit you had picked up when you were thinking.

“A little,” you finally said with a nod of your head. “Not now, but, you know.” You shrugged. “Eventually.”

That was an answer Wednesday could live with. Eventually. It eased whatever anxiety was starting to well up in her throat. Nothing soon, she could work with that. It gave her plenty of time to think of how she was possibly going to accept such a fact that you had both talked about so casually.

And how she was going to find a way to admit it to her parents.

Now that was going to be a nightmare.

—---

“The giant chicken helps out while you’re in class, right?” Ash asked as she stirred whatever it was she was cooking. It was rather polite for her to come over and offer to cook in yours and Wednesday’s apartment.

It was no wonder you were so intimidated by her; you were both raised with manners.

“Yes,” Wednesday said as she sat in the chair at the island. “With the exception of work.”

“Well of course,” Ash scoffed. “That’s a given.” She cocked her hip and leaned against the counter as she set the spoon down. “She just needs some sort of stability.”

“How so?” Wednesday asked with a tilt of her head. 

She had a feeling she knew, but she wanted to hear it from someone else. Someone who had known you in a way only she had. Of course Yoko knew you well, but not in the same sense. She needed to hear it from someone who you had loved as something other than family.

Oh you were making her soft, god damn you.

“She thinks too much without a sense of purpose,” Ash said with a shrug. “Even if that purpose is as simple as cleaning the apartment.”

When Ash continued cooking, Wednesday thought about the simple statement. It might have been accurate. The days you seemed more at ease were the days you had cleaned, or cooked, or done the shopping, or done something to “help.” Or helped in any sense, it didn’t have to be an actual act.

She would need to hint at things for you to do if she ever noticed you acting off.

“Was this something you dealt with?” Wednesday asked.

Ash’s movements faltered. “Not quite to this degree,” she said slowly, “but yes.”

“Was there a cause?” Wednesday asked. “Most people are not naturally so…” Ash gave her a raised brow. “Troubled.”

“Nice word choice,” Ash said with a smile before sliding a plate in front of where Wednesday was sitting. It looked rather good; she wouldn’t dare try to figure out what it was. “What do you know about her past?”

Images of you standing in a room, crying about how your parents had abandoned you flooded Wednesday’s mind. She had nearly forgotten the vision from so long ago. It was enough to have anger burning through her veins as she set her jaw and looked down at the plate, actively avoiding Ash’s gaze.

“Marcus and Kristi left her and Nicky at Nevermore,” she said slowly. “I believe that’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Not much less than the rest of us,” Ash said with a sigh. She took her time to take a bite of food before continuing. “All I know is they were abusive. Made her feel like she was a burden.”

“Which would explain the desire to be useful.”

“Exactly,” Ash said with a point of her fork. “I have no doubt there’s more to it, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that’s a decent chunk.”

Both girls fell silent as they stared at their food. If Ash was anything like Wednesday, she was no longer very hungry. Why would you not tell anyone what had happened in your past? She understood bad memories were never pleasant, but part of moving on was the acceptance stage, was it not? How could you accept something if you never acknowledged its very existence?

“You’re doing well though,” Ash finally said once they had both finished eating. “Y/N is known to run when things get hard.”

“Explain,” Wednesday said as she got up and started helping with the dishes.

“Well,” Ash sighed, “take when we were together.” She turned the sink on. “After the accident, she got angry and mean and pushed everyone away.”

“And you left?” Wednesday clarified. She took the first dish from Ash and started drying it.

“Not at first,” she admitted with a slight shake of her head. “I tried to stay and help.” She handed over another plate. “But I drew the line at being told I didn’t care.”

Wednesday fell silent and focused on drying off the dishes Ash handed to her. It didn’t sound like something you would do. You had never given her any sort of indication that you believed such a thing, or even that you would accuse someone of such a thing. The most she had seen you do was withdraw and hide away. Would you really accuse someone of not caring?

She reached over to take the last fork from Ash and felt her fingers touch. Her head was thrown back as a volt of electricity ran through her fingers, locking her muscles. The apartment ceiling disappeared, turning into something more. Something open. Something with stars.

A sigh fell from Wednesday’s lips as she spun around and took in her surroundings. It was a forest, or something close to it. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn’t quite place it. Something about it reminded her of the night you had gone bug hunting with Eugene and gotten hurt by the werewolf. It sent a shiver down her spine.

An unfamiliar scream echoed through the forests, sounding as if it was pushing through water. Faded, hazy, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Her feet started moving on their own accord, leading her between trees until she found a small clearing. A full moon was illuminating the area enough for her to see the carnage.

One body was on the ground a few feet away, crumpled and broken. Wednesday couldn’t see any blood in the dark, but she could practically smell it. On the other side of the clearing was a tall figure, monstrous in form, almost like a corrupt werewolf. In front of it, trapped in another figure’s arms, was someone familiar.

It was Ash.

Wednesday stepped forward slowly, her eyes stuck on the scene. A twig snapped under her feet, and all three figures turned their heads to look at her. Ash was the only one who had a face, the others were blurred out, almost as if they were being censored. Blood trickled from Ash’s mouth, which she opened wide-

“-Wednesday!”

Her head was thrown forward and suddenly she was back in her apartment. Ash was holding her up by her shoulders, eyes wide with concern and checking over every inch of her. The sounds of the forest were gone, there was no smell of blood, and everything was back to normal. Normal.

“Are you okay?” Ash asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes,” Wednesday said, surprisingly confident in her tone. “I’m fine.”

“What was that?” She continued, only just letting Wednesday go after being extra sure she was steady on her feet.

“A vision,” Wednesday said, her voice lowering to barely more than a whisper.

“A vision?” Ash clarified. When Wednesday looked up at her, she was shaking her head and chuckling humourlessly. “I nearly forgot you were one of the freaks.” Wednesday looked at her with a raised brow. “It’s a term of endearment.”

At any other point in time, she would have found an excuse to harass Ash for the term. Even though it was abundantly clear that she had no dislike for Outcasts, she was one of the few Normies in the group. Wednesday wasn’t entirely known for teasing, but she had learned to lighten up just a little. At least that’s how Bianca had phrased it a few months ago.

An unusual sound rang through the air. Both girls looked around for a moment before Ash picked up her phone and unlocked it. Her eyes moved from side to side as she read something. Whatever it was made her smile and roll her eyes before she put the phone back down.

“Y/N says she’s running to a late night anger management class,” Ash said. “And wanted me to let you know.”

“Thank you,” Wednesday said with a simple nod.

“You two really just communicate through everyone else?” Ash asked, heading over to the couch and grabbing the television remote. Wednesday quickly followed suit.

“Technology is a soul sucking void that I do not wish to be forced into,” Wednesday said even as Ash turned the television on and put on what looked like… true crime? Maybe technology wasn’t entirely awful.

“You sure that’s all it is?” Ash asked. “Because I know she gave you Nicky’s old phone.”

Wednesday sighed. “I don’t want to accidentally erase what he left on it,” she finally admitted. “So I would rather leave it as untouched as possible.”

“That’s surprisingly sweet,” Ash said softly. “You know, there are ways to back it up so it’s not lost.”

“I did not know,” Wednesday said. “Would you be able to help me with it?”

“Sure, Addams,” Ash said with a slight chuckle. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

Wednesday turned back to the television to watch whatever Ash had put on. It was fascinating, and both girls managed to talk and figure out the real perp each and every time. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, Wednesday thought. This was a friendship that she was more than happy to nurture.

—---

When Wednesday awoke the next morning, you weren’t in bed. Not entirely surprising, she knew if you were too late you would usually just sleep on the couch in an effort not to wake her. A pointless endeavour, she would rather you wake her than she wake up alone. But she supposed she could understand the polite intention behind it.

She took a moment to let her brain catch up with reality. All night she had been plagued by the vision of Ash being attacked by those figures. What were they? They hadn’t seemed human, but she couldn’t see any distinguishing features. That was unusual on its own, she had never had parts of her visions censored. Something about it rubbed her the wrong way.

Your voice floated down the hallway and through the open bedroom door, and Wednesday pushed aside her concerns and got out of bed. She didn’t bother putting clothes on, just wrapped one of your jackets around her to keep herself modest. The floor was still warm from the time of year, so it wasn’t too unbearable to walk down the hall and into the living room.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw you sitting at the table across from Weems.

“Good morning, Miss Addams,” Weems said softly with a gentle smile that reminded her of her mother.

You were quick to turn around, and the smile you gave her started a warmth in her chest. Thoughts of your question about marriage ran rampant as she thought that yes, she would like to see you like that every morning. Simply excited to see her each morning. That was something she could live with for the rest of her life.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” Weems continued. “I ran into Y/N last night after grabbing groceries.”

“She works at the university!” You said quickly with a toothy smile. “Isn’t that cool?”

“You will be teaching?” Wednesday asked. She finally walked over and sat down beside you at the table, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee you slid in front of her.

“Outcast History, yes,” Weems said with a nod. “We’re testing it out as a course to see if it catches any traction.”

“How is Nevermore?” Wednesday asked.

“It’s in good hands,” Weems answered, though her smile turned a little sad. “So, how has everything been?”

The three of you got to talking, and by god Wednesday forgot how much you could talk. It wasn’t that you didn’t talk with her, but some people just managed to bring out every thought in your mind. Weems was one of those people. Truthfully, she and Wednesday didn’t even have to say much, you managed to talk the entire time.

Wednesday gladly sat back and watched you go over everything; skipping over Mack’s death, of course. She would need to remember to fill Weems in on that piece of information. But you talked, and talked, and talked some more. She was almost afraid to look at the time. Her gut told her that you had been talking for far over an hour.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, pulling Wednesday out of her thoughts. “Did you hear some rich dude was murdered last night?”

“In town?” Weems asked.

“No, not here, down in DC,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Some old guy was practically slaughtered in his fancy house.”

“You seem far too nonchalant about the situation,” Weems said softly, more to herself than to you.

“Eat the rich,” you said with a shrug.

Weems turned to look at Wednesday with raised brows, and she just shook her head. You seemed blissfully unaware of the irony of your statement, but it wasn’t the time to bring it up. She would let you live with your beliefs. It was a conversation for another day.

“Make sure you both stay safe, yes?” Weems asked, her eyes falling to where you had grabbed Wednesday’s hand and were playing with her fingers. “Together.”

“Yes mother,” you huffed. “But you have nothing to worry about, anyone who slaughters old white men is a friend of mine.”

Wednesday shook her head and did her best to hold back her smile as she took a sip of her coffee. You were starting to act far more like you had when she had first met you at Nevermore. Carefree, a little silly, happy. Maybe you were finally starting to get better.

She could definitely live with that for the rest of her life.

Weems didn’t stay for much longer, claiming she needed to go back home and work on her learning plan for her classes. You both bid her goodbye, and you gave her a lingering hug that she also seemed to melt into. She gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek before bidding goodbye, and you were quick to pull Wednesday over to the couch.

“Do you have class?” You asked, even though she knew that you knew she didn’t.

“No,” she said simply.

“Good, then you have no excuse to not cuddle with me,” you said.

You didn’t give her the chance to argue before pulling her down until she was laying in front of you, her back pressed to your front. She knew it wasn’t the most comfortable position for you thanks to your wings, but you seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. Maybe she could look into designing a couch that would be more comfortable for you. She was sure her parents knew someone that could assist in the endeavour.

“What are you in the mood to watch?” You asked. The hand that wasn’t holding the remote was slipping under her shirt, and your fingers were starting to draw little shapes on her stomach.

“Ash put on something about crimes last night,” Wednesday said.

“Stop bonding with her,” you said instantly. Regardless, you flipped through the channels. “Was it Unsolved Mysteries?”

“Possibly,” she said.

You nodded and changed the channel before setting the remote down and pulling her closer. It was clear you were trying your hardest to engage with the crimes. Were you wrong the majority of the time? Yes. Did you still keep trying to come up with more and more convoluted theories that, realistically, weren’t even close to viable? Yes.

Did Wednesday love it? Absolutely.

“I so could’ve been a detective,” you mumbled after you had managed, for the first time, to figure something out. “I’m practically a natural.”

Wednesday didn’t say anything, just pulled your arms tighter around her. Behind her, she could feel your heart beating steadily. Your heart beat was always a little faster than everyone else’s, reminiscent of a hummingbird, but it was steady. A constant that kept Wednesday’s mind focused and uncluttered.

You shifted, leaning forward to press a kiss to Wednesday’s cheek before she heard you whisper an “oops.” The channel on the television changed and she felt you moving around to try and find the remote. Some news channel appeared, and Wednesday would have been more than happy to ignore it until she saw two familiar faces.

She didn’t say anything, but squeezed your arm.

“What?” You asked as you halted your movements.

Your body stiffened behind her when you looked back at the television as well. Marcus and Kristi were on the screen, doing what looked like a press interview. The message “retired DA Malcolm Hart victim of vicious homicide” scrawled across the bottom of the screen in a red banner. Your nails dug a little harder into Wednesday’s skin.

“We were saddened to learn of Malcom’s passing,” Marcus said. Your body shivered the moment he started talking. “He was a dear friend of mine, and we will be doing everything we can to assist the DCPD in their efforts to find and apprehend the perpetrator.”

Wednesday couldn’t properly focus on the television after that, instead turning her head to look at you. There was a glassy haze over your eyes and a tight set of your jaw. Your arms were holding her a little too tight, but she didn’t pay it any mind. All she was focused on was the clear distress you couldn’t quite voice.

“I hope it kills them next,” you mumbled before settling back into the couch and placing your face in the crook of her neck.

Maybe healing wasn’t going to come as effortlessly as she had originally believed.

---------------------------------------

Taglist:@extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove @karsonromanoff @elduster@mil0isvalid

everyone but her pt.33

Summary: You're angry. You're angry, and Wednesday doesn't know how to help you. At least she's not afraid to look for outside help.

Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, mentions of abuse Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

You had been particularly irate after seeing Marcus and Kristi on the television a few weeks ago. And unlike most of your usual bouts of anger, Wednesday couldn’t fix this one. She had done her best to help, to find things for you to do, to distract you. None of it worked.

Her attempts to keep you busy in the apartment had been a bust. She had gone out and bought more furniture, all of which needed to be put together by hand. Once you had gotten home from work one evening, she had asked for your assistance, to which your scowl had dropped for a second and she had almost seen you smile. But unfortunately, you helped create furniture for a living, and what was supposed to be a long distraction ended up taking only a singular weekend.

Then she had asked you to have a "movie marathon," or at least that's what Ajax had called it. All of your favourite movies, one right after the other with the only exceptions being class or work. It seemed to ease your irritation for the most part, but once the movies were over, so was your peace.

More than once Wednesday had even asked you to teach her how to cook. It was a failed endeavour from start to finish. But her pride could look past her embarrassment when she heard you laugh at yet another failed attempt at cooking something so simple. Your laugh was such a beautiful sound, and she would decimate a hundred meals if it meant she could hear you laugh.

However, even that plan eventually fell short when you no longer found the time to teach, instead opting to do it yourself before she got home for class or even going so far as to skip meals entirely. She had only attempted to bring it up to you once before you immediately shut her down. It was a mindless decision not to bring it up again.

Which left her with her current predicament; how to help ease you back into a calm that was sustainable.

When you practically stormed out of the apartment once again, Wednesday realised she was unaware of what to do. It was an odd feeling. To not have any indication or clue as to what would help you. There was something unsettling about it, and more than once she found herself getting increasingly frustrated right alongside you, though for different reasons.

It only took a few moments to make sure you weren’t coming back before Wednesday, with gritted teeth, pulled out the family crystal ball. It had been a long while since she had used it, in fact you had used it far more often to talk with Pugsley. Why you wanted to talk with him, she had no idea, but you did. Which left her in the uncomfortable position she was currently in.

“Hello, darling,” Mother answered almost immediately. “How is school?”

“It’s going well,” Wednesday answered.

“And how is Y/N?” She asked.

Wednesday hesitated. “That’s precisely why I’m calling.”

“I knew you would eventually,” Mother said with a kind smile. “Pugsley mentioned she has been unusually agitated the past few calls.”

“And he would know?” Wednesday asked with a barely concealed scoff.

“Yes he would,” Mother said. “They play some sort of game together every week.”

Wednesday’s eyes fell to the side. Yes, she supposed you did usually play a game with Pugsley when you were on a call. She couldn’t recall what it was called, but it was clearly something you got excited about. More than once she could hear you shouting or cheering or complaining about something. In actuality, she was more surprised you had gotten Pugsley in on your technology craze.

“How can I help you, dear?” Mother asked, pulling her gaze back to the crystal ball. “There will be no judgement.”

As if that was what Wednesday was concerned about.

“I’m unsure of how to help,” she finally said. “The usual distractions no longer work.” Mother waited silently. “Seeing her so tormented is-” she exhaled deeply “-not enjoyable.”

“What have you tried so far?” Mother asked.

Wednesday sighed before going into excruciating detail about everything she had tried. Mother listened politely, nodding when appropriate and asking clarifying questions when necessary. It was infuriating how understanding she was being. Wednesday almost wished she would refuse to listen. At least then she would be warranted in her frustration.

“And this all occurred after her parents appeared on the news?” Mother asked. Wednesday nodded. “Have you asked what she needs?”

“I-” Wednesday quickly closed her mouth. She would rather die than answer that question.

“You cannot know it all, darling,” Mother said simply. “Through no fault of your own, of course.”

Wednesday remained silent even as her face started to heat up.

“Communication is far more important than figuring it out on your own,” Mother continued. “You are incredibly intelligent, Wednesday, but sometimes the easy way is the smartest way.”

“You ask Father those things as well?” Wednesday asked. If her face got any hotter she fully believed she would explode.

“And he asks me,” she said with a nod. “There’s no shame in it.”

“I see,” was all Wednesday had to say in reply.

“Ask,” Mother said with yet another smile that made her skin crawl. “If that doesn’t work, I would love to help you come up with something else.”

“That seems acceptable,” Wednesday said, her brows pinching together. “Thank you, mother.”

“Of course, darling,” Mother said. “Now, tell me about everything else.”

—---

“You seem tense.”

“No shit, Shaun,” you grumbled as you continued to pace the floor. You rolled your shoulders a few times to relieve the pressure near your wings; it didn’t work.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me about it,” Shaun said in his overly-understanding-therapist tone.

You hated this. You hated calling him, hated making appointments, hated being in the fucking room with him. No one else had to go to therapy for all of their problems. Why did you have to go? If anyone should be in therapy, it was Enid. You had met her mother, you knew the hell she put up with on a regular basis.

Actually, maybe you should recommend therapy to her, it would probably help.

“Y/N?”

He was looking at you like you were some sort of lost cause.

With a sharp exhale through your nose, you resigned yourself to sitting down in the chair across from Shaun’s. At least it was a comfortable armchair. You pulled your knees up and wrapped your arms around them; he could make you sit, but he couldn’t tell you how to sit. If you were going to be forced to bare your soul then you were going to be comfortable.

“What’s your anger metre at right now?” Shaun asked once you had stopped fidgeting.

You shrugged.

“Do you talk to Wednesday about your anger?” He asked instead.

“Not anymore,” you said. Suddenly, you couldn’t meet his eyes anymore.

“Is there a specific reason?” He leaned back in his own chair.

“This isn’t couples counseling,” you said quickly. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“You brought her into it, Y/N,” Shaun said. “As your girlfriend, isn’t she automatically involved?”

“Ask a different question,” you said, a little quieter.

“Okay,” he said with a few nods of his head. “How did it make you feel to see your parents on the news?”

“Ask a different different question,” you huffed instantly.

“Clearly that’s what’s upsetting you,” he said, “so we should talk about it.”

Damn him for being right. It was no wonder people hated therapy; it sucked. You didn’t want to talk about them. They didn’t deserve to be talked about. Nicky had tried so hard to keep their negative memory out of your head, and now Shaun wanted you to unpack it? No, just the thought made your skin crawl.

You hated them. And it made you sick that you hated them. Why would they make you do that? They were your parents. Why would they make you hate them? Shouldn't they be desperate for your love too? It shouldn't be just you.

But it was.

"I don't like seeing them," you said softly.

"Why not?" Shaun asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"They only show up when I'm getting better," you said with a sniffle. "Maybe that's what their Outcast ability is; impeccable timing."

"You feel like their appearance sets you back in your healing journey," he said.

"Don't make it sound so… pathetic," you said, your nose scrunched as you leaned back in your chair. "It just pisses me off, that's all."

"Right," he said with a small smile. "My mistake."

"Listen," you said. You let go of your legs and your feet touched down on the ground. "Just tell me I'm crazy, give me some homework, and let me go back home."

"You think that would make you feel better?"

"No," you said. "But I need some genuine comfort, and I'll be honest Shaun, you're not giving it to me."

"You want Wednesday," he said with a single raised brow.

It wasn't a question, and you both knew it. Wednesday was becoming a crutch for you to ignore everything. Not that it was her fault, and no one was blaming her for it. But it wasn't fair to her. No one was perfect, but she didn't deserve to become a crutch for something you couldn't even talk to her about.

"I want Wednesday," you confirmed with a nod.

"Then I've got homework for you," Shaun said as he stood up from his chair. You quickly followed suit. "Ask her if there's a day in the week that you can have an emotional talk, and tell her one thing about your parents."

"What if I don't want to talk about them?" You asked.

"Just one thing," he reiterated. "Big, small, it doesn't matter, but say one thing. It will open the door without overwhelming either one of you."

"Your homework sucks," you said.

"I know," he replied with a smile. “Now get home, I’ll see you again next week.”

“I think you just want to get rid of me,” you said even as you walked out of the door.

“Good night, Y/N,” Shaun said.

“Night,” you answered with a wave over your shoulder.

It thankfully wasn’t too late in the evening for you to be walking home. Sure, it was starting to get cold, but it was nice. The cold never hit you quite as hard as everyone else; maybe it was just because of your hot blooded nature. Or stubborn, Yoko had told you that one before too. Whatever the case, the temperature was actually quite lovely and was making for a wonderful walk home. It gave you plenty of time to think.

Maybe talking with Wednesday wouldn’t be as devastating as you worried it would be. After all, she had told you that you could. The only thing she asked for was a bit of preemptive warning so she could prepare to react properly. You could do that, it would give you time to mentally prepare as well. It wouldn’t do either of you any good to both freak out about the talk.

Although knowing your luck, that was probably exactly what would happen.

But aside from that, you could see how it would benefit you both to talk about it. You could get a bit of it off your shoulders, and she could learn a bit more about your past. Your pace slowed as you thought about that. What if she felt you had kept things from her? Or that you had lied about your past by not telling her anything? Oh, you hoped not. You had only just fully remembered it, it wasn’t your fault-

“-Y/N Smith?”

“You can talk to my lawyer,” you said before you even finished turning around.

Except you weren’t met with police officers like you usually were. No, you were met with two people that you had only met once, but you would never forget their faces. They had been present at the funeral. They had been witness to your assault on your father.

They knew your Nicky.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Casey said with a charming smile. Was that something Nicky had liked about them?

“I live here,” was all you said.

“Going to school?” They asked. Devon was too busy scuffing their shoes against the sidewalk to chime in.

“No I-” you inhaled deeply, “-Wednesday is,” you said. “I’m just working.”

“That must be nice.”

“I guess,” you huffed. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh,” Casey said with a quiet exhale and a smile. “We work here too. I’m working on my doctorates and this one-” they nudged Devon, “-is about to graduate from the police academy.”

“Oh,” you said as your smile fell. “The Academy, huh?”

Finally Devon looked up to meet your eyes. “Your name has circulated,” they said, voice far deeper than you had been expecting. More gruff. It reminded you a bit of Enid’s brothers, actually.

“I’m sure it has,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Casey said with a humourless chuckle, “we’re keeping you out late.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a dismissive wave, “I was just heading home.”

“Let me give you my number,” they said as they pulled out their own phone, “and we can meet for coffee or something.”

You looked down at the phone in their hand and froze. Memories of the funeral flashed through your mind like a slideshow put on fast forward. You knew nothing of these two. For all you knew, they could have been lying about being Nicky’s partners. No proof, no Nicky, nothing.

But there was no proof of the opposite either.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, shaking your head and digging for your own phone. You switched the phones and put each number in. “Might as well,” you mumbled when you took your phone back.

“We’ll be in touch,” Casey said with a smile and a nod in your direction.

“Sure,” you said with your own tight-lipped smile.

“We’ll let you get home,” they said. “Stay safe.”

“And out of trouble,” Devon chimed in.

“You too,” you said with a halfhearted wave as you started walking backwards. “Night.”

“Good night,” they both said before starting their own walk in the opposite direction.

The entire walk home suddenly became more of a struggle than a relaxing trip. The weather was no longer enjoyable, it was suffocating. Your wings strained against the harness in a desperate attempt to take you far away from whatever predicament you had gotten yourself stuck in. How were you going to go have coffee with your late brother’s partners that you hadn’t even known had existed until he had passed? How fucked up was that?

So fucked up, in fact, that you didn’t even remember the rest of the walk to the apartment. You didn’t recall passing anyone, unlocking the door, or even re-locking it and sitting down on the couch. The last thing you remembered was passing the little cafe a few blocks down and then… you were on your couch.

It had been a while since your last blackout. The accompanying migraine was just gravy.

“Oh.” You turned to see Wednesday standing in the doorway between your room and the common room. “I didn’t hear you return.”

“I didn’t either,” you mumbled. The couch shifted underneath you as you stood up. “Do anything productive today?”

“I believe so,” she said while following you into the kitchen. “I talked with Mother.”

“Oh?” You asked. You peered your head into the fridge and frowned; it was time for a grocery run.

“How can I help ease your anxiety?”

“Wh-” your head hit the top of the fridge, “-ouch.” You pulled away completely before standing up, rubbing the now sore spot on the top of your head. “Say again?”

Wednesday quickly opened the freezer and pulled out an ice pack, placing it gently on your head. “What can I do to ease some of your anxiety?”

There was a gentleness in her eyes that she normally kept reserved. You knew Wednesday cared greatly for her friends and family and loved ones. She just didn’t show it like most people; she showed it more in the subtle actions or how she phrased things to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. It was a delicate care, one that more often than not went unnoticed. But you all had learned how to see them.

This was more overt. There was an incredibly visible softness around her eyes, a lack of worry lines or that furrow between her brows. Not that it was your main focus, how could you focus on those things when she was looking at you with those stunning eyes of hers? No, focus, she was asking you something serious.

“I don’t-” you huffed, “-why are you asking?”

Wednesday raised a single brow. “Mother said if I wished to help you properly, I should ask you what would help.” She sighed. “So what would help?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you admitted as your shoulders slumped. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” she said with a single nod. “How was your day?”

“You remember those two dudes I bummed a smoke off of at the funeral?” You asked. Wednesday nodded once. “Bumped into them on the walk home.”

“That’s quite the coincidence,” she said. You both started moving back to the common room; dinner would have to be takeout again.

“Said we should catch up over coffee some time,” you continued as you practically fell to the couch. Wednesday was quick to follow, basically landing on your lap. Before she had the chance to move, you wrapped your arms around her waist.

“Is that something you would be interested in doing?” She asked as she grabbed the remote and put something on TV. Neither one of you knew what it was, but that was okay. It didn’t matter anyway.

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “I feel like Nicky lied to me about a lot. They might know a few answers.”

“Do you truly wish to know those answers?”

You exhaled slowly and stared at the TV. That was a pretty damn good question, and you weren’t sure you knew. There was no doubt some of the answers would just make you more angry, like why he had lied to you about them in the first place or why he had suppressed everything. You didn’t want to be angry with him, not when he couldn’t even defend himself.

But there was also the possibility it would give you some peace and clarity. Maybe you could find out why he did some things and you could forgive him for it. You were still furious that he had meddled in your head without permission. No one had permission to be in your head, it was your only safe place. But surely there had been a good reason.

Right?

“I don’t know,” you finally said softly.

The cold touch of Wednesday’s hand on your jaw sent a slight shiver down your spine. She pulled your jaw until you were looking at her, directly at her. Just her touch alone was enough to send your pulse skyrocketing, rushing loudly in your ears until it was all you could hear. It was humiliating.

Your gaze flickered down to her lips only once before she got the hint and pulled you into a kiss. It felt subdued, like she was holding something back. But it also felt gentle, like she was afraid she would break you. Maybe she would. You would have been okay with breaking if it was at her hand.

Her fingers tightened on your jaw, keeping you completely still. It told you everything you needed to know about her current mood; she was in control. She shifted in your arms, moving until she was straddling your lap. It hadn’t taken very long for you to realise it was one of her preferred positions, and you certainly weren’t complaining. As long as she was in your arms, you were happy.

Your own hands tightened around her waist when she nipped at your bottom lip. It was almost painful, but wonderfully so. A beautiful feeling that stopped all thoughts in your head and left you with nothing but ragged breath and a racing heart. There was nothing more you wanted than to just feel her-

“-We ask for anyone with knowledge of the crime to come forward.”

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned when you heard Marcus’ voice.

Wednesday turned slightly to see the TV and frowned. “I don’t believe I turned on the news.”

“You didn’t,” you grumbled. One arm held her tightly around her waist while you shifted around, digging in the couch for the remote. That you had sat on. “But we really need to stop leaving this on the couch.”

“Malcolm's family is holding another vigil this weekend,” Kristi said. “We encourage you all to come and pay your respects to a brave man.”

“I think I remember him,” you mumbled as you continued to watch the screen.

Wednesday stayed silent. A stock photo of Malcolm appeared on the screen, dressed to the nines. Probably a work photo, you thought to yourself. His face was worn and old, and white, but you vaguely remembered him. Surely there had been one instance where you had met him. If Marcus knew him, then there was no doubt he had come to the house at least once.

Ah.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod of your head. “He brought me and Nicky some comic books one day when he came over to work on a case with dad.” The title tasted bitter in your mouth. “Told us if we stayed out of trouble, he would bring us some more.”

“Did you stay out of trouble?” Wednesday asked.

You scoffed. “Of course not.” She almost smiled. “We tried to throw the comics like frisbees and broke a vase.”

“So no more comics?” She asked with the most adorable smirk.

“No more anything,” you chuckled, “we were grounded for three weeks.”

“If you have any knowledge of the crime, please, report it to the police immediately,” Marcus said. Begged. It was nice to see him begging for once.

Make him beg some more.

“Are you alright?” Wednesday asked, her hand on your jaw pulling your face away from the TV and directly to her.

“Yeah,” you said as you focused on unclenching your jaw. “I’m okay.”

“Do you need anything?” She asked.

You leaned forward until you could kiss her, which she quickly reciprocated. It was answer enough.

The door of your apartment flew open right as your hands slipped under Wednesday’s shirt. You both turned to see Ash and Bianca walking in; Bianca’s shirt looked… familiar?

“Did you see the news?” Ash asked.

“Didn’t your momma teach you to knock?” You asked back.

“We have seen Y/N’s parents, yes,” Wednesday answered.

“No, they think they finally have a lead for those frat boys,” Bianca said.

Both of them came to sit on the couch, completely ignoring the fact that you still had your hands up Wednesday’s shirt. Your cheeks flushed when they sat beside you, but that embarrassment quickly turned to frustration. They had their own apartments for a reason.

“Why are you two together anyway?” You asked.

“Hush,” Ash said while Wednesday changed the channel to the local news station.

“The medical examiner has come to the conclusion that the wounds were inflicted by the claws of a werewolf,” the police chief said. “If any of you know of a werewolf that was present at the fraternity party on New Year’s Eve, please let officers know.”

“A werewolf?” You asked. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“It wasn’t even a full moon,” Wednesday said.

“Think they’re looking for a scapegoat?” Ash asked.

“Better keep a leash on Enid,” Bianca said. “They’ll look for any excuse to lock someone up.”

“Yeah they-” you stopped when you saw Ash’s fingers lock with Bianca’s. “-What’s that?”

All three girls looked at you before following your eyes.

“Um-”

“-Don’t get mad-”

“-What do you mean?”

All three of them looked guilty.

“Well,” Bianca said with a huff before standing up and pulling Ash with her, “that was all we had to show you.”

“Bye!” Ash called as they both rushed out of the apartment.

“Get back here!” You shouted. “I’m not done with you yet!”

They quickly shut the door behind them.

--------------------------------------

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everyone but her pt.34

Summary: Two years, and you're only just starting to force yourself to acknowledge a few hard truths. Wednesday doesn't know how to help you, but she's going to do her best in her new Wednesday fashion.

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse, mentions of death, grief Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) A/N: I am not one who celebrates Dίa de los Muertos, and I've tried to do my due diligence for researching it and displaying it properly (in Addams fashion) but please let me know if I get something about it wrong! I want to show it the utmost respect, so please point me in the right direction if needed.

You loved the Addamses, truly you did. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for every single one of them. They wouldn’t even have to ask, you would do it in a heartbeat. Extended family was slowly starting to become included as well, and maybe you felt a bit like their self-appointed lapdog, but you didn’t really care. If they said jump, you would ask how high.

But sometimes you wished they would leave you out of a few things.

For instance, this? This whole weekend thing they had planned? You very well would have preferred to stay at the apartment. But no, they just had to invite you over and they just had to invite Abuelita and Tio and you just had to do your best not to be upset. Not that it was their fault, of course, you just didn’t celebrate things the same way.

For example? This dίa de los muertos.

It had been so long, you had truthfully forgotten just how wild the Addamses could get when they were all together. Uncle Fester was having way too much fun with Tio too. You hadn’t understood how much of a disaster that duo could be until you saw the both of them exiting the kitchen with armfulls of unknown substances.

“What, uh,” you scratched the back of your neck, “whatcha got there, Tio?”

He looked down at his arms, then at Uncle Fester’s, then back at you. “It’s a surprise.”

“I’m sure it is,” you mumbled when they continued walking out of the kitchen. Sometimes ignorance was the better option.

Ignorance quickly turned to annoyance when something exploded in the backyard. You didn’t have to look to know who the culprits were, not when Tio and Uncle Fester limped back into the house covered in black soot. They did their best not to meet your eyes while Mr. Addams congratulated them on… whatever they had done.

But that was the easy part! Watching Tio and Uncle Fester nearly get themselves killed time and time again was almost even comical, if you hadn’t been so stressed about the whole situation. No, it wasn’t even close to the difficult part. Even trying to help Abuelita cook for everyone was easier than everything else. Sure, she teased you the whole time, but at least she was sweet.

The hard part was trying to act all happy and celebrate when all you wanted to do was settle into a rafter for the weekend until it was time to go back home. You didn’t want to celebrate something that you couldn’t even properly talk about yet. Certainly you weren’t going to stop anyone or bring down the mood, but you weren’t keen on this whole celebration.

“Darling,” Mrs. Addams said, pulling your attention away from the book you had snagged. You looked down from your perch. “Your Abuelita would like your help in the kitchen.”

More cooking. Perfect.

“Yes ma’am,” you said anyway. There was a smile on her face when you dropped down to the floor; it took everything in you not to rub your knee that was not too happy about the landing.

“Are you learning much?” She asked. You frowned at her before looking down at the book. Your mouth quickly made a little “o”.

“I think so,” you said with a shrug and you both started walking slowly toward the kitchen. “It would help if your daughter would teach me herself.”

“She sees value in learning things on your own,” Mrs. Addams said. “It’s something about her you’re rather fond of, is it not?”

“Not right now it’s not,” you grumbled.

Mrs. Addams chuckled lightly beside you but otherwise kept silent. That was alright, you weren’t entirely in the mood to continue talking anyway. Especially not when you passed a certain picture frame that Tio had put up on the table earlier. It was easy enough to avert your eyes even as everyone continued laughing and having their fun.

You’ll ruin their celebration.

Abuelita was already working on… actually, you didn’t know what it was. Oh, never mind, it was just tamales. Now that you knew how to make, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too big of a chore. After all, you were nothing if not a wonderful assistant. Abuelita had even told you that herself.

Although your excitement at the chore quickly dissipated when she instantly put you to work on making more tamales than you thought you had ever made in your life. You loved her, you did, but she was a slave driver. She didn’t even tell you hi or that she loved you.

It was a hard knock life.

“Miercoles is laughing at you,” Tio said when he sat down at the table to watch. He always watched, never helped.

“No she’s not,” you said. But just to be safe, you looked up.

He was right.

“Told you,” he said as Wednesday finished making her way into the kitchen, a barely hidden smile on her face.

“Stop it,” you mumbled when she positioned herself beside you to begin helping.

“Tio was just telling me a few childhood stories,” Wednesday said with a shrug.

“His?” You asked. “Or mine?”

“Yours,” she said, “and Nicky’s.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose and turned to look at her. She was avoiding looking at you, instead using immense focus on the task at hand. Although you quickly turned your attention away because it wasn’t her fault. She was inquisitive by nature, you knew that. No, it was 100% Tio’s fault though, and he knew better. He knew you weren’t ready to talk about it yet.

Tio shrugged his shoulders and gave you what he probably thought was a comforting smile. It wasn’t. Not even close. How dare he? He was very well aware of your feelings about the whole situation, not even including your uncertainty in turning it into a celebration. But he was going to talk about you? Talk about Nicky? As if nothing had happened? It wasn’t fair.

“He can keep his mouth shut,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the hoard of tamales that could already feed an army even as Abuelita pushed more ingredients your way.

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen, and you didn’t care that you were at fault. They shouldn’t have brought him up, not today, not so close to the second anniversary of him being gone. It was inconsiderate at the least, malicious at best. You weren’t going to let them continue talking about him like he was still there, like he wasn’t haunting your every waking moment.

Someone cleared their throat and you looked up, ready to glare at whoever had dared to disturb the silence you had forced on everyone. But the moment your eyes met his, you froze. Every atom in your body refused to move, locked in place by his ghostly smile. It wasn’t until your lungs started to burn did you inhale slowly.

“You need to learn to flirt better,” he said with a raised brow. “She’s trying to help you.”

You couldn’t manage to get any words out. Not when you knew no one else could see him. He rarely came around, usually only when you were doing something really stupid. Part of you wondered if he had learned it from Twilight, because it was certainly some Eclipse bullshit. It wouldn’t surprise you in the least if that’s what his intentions were.

“You’re a disaster of a homosexual,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Making me do everything. Tell her about when we first got Steve.”

Your mouth closed with a clack of your teeth. Why was he such a dick? Even from the grave he couldn’t help himself. Besides, what did he mean you were a disaster? Quite frankly, Wednesday was way out of your league. If anything, he should be congratulating you on bagging a baddie like her.

But you had to admit, he was probably right. Like usual.

Such a dick.

“Did-” you shook your head and looked down at the table even though you could feel someone looking at you “-did he tell you about the time we got Steve?”

You kept working, refusing to look up. Air got stuck in your throat, and you wanted to cough just to clear the silence that was getting thicker than oatmeal. Nicky’s spectre laughed at you, and even though it was very clearly teasing, you wanted to hit him. This was no laughing matter, you were about to humiliate yourself in front of Wednesday because he thought it was a good idea to-

“-No he didn’t,” Wednesday finally said.

“Do I have to teach you how to do everything?” Nicky teased; you weren’t going to give him the benefit of looking at him. “Tell her the story!”

If he hadn’t already been dead, you would have fed him to Mrs. Addams’ carnivorous plants.

Your hands stilled their movements as your brain tried to comprehend what you had just thought. It had been the first time you had acknowledged that Nicky was dead. All moisture in your mouth disappeared, leaving the impression that you were chewing on cotton. 

Nicky was dead.

“Come on, baby,” Nicky said, his voice far too soft for the mental turmoil. It actually made you feel worse. “Tell her the story.”

“I’ll be back,” you said in a strangled voice.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you stepped back and practically ran out of the kitchen. The back of your brain reminded you that Abuelita needed your help, but you couldn’t convince yourself to care. Not when you could feel something chipping away at your chest with each step you took. Not when each breath started to get heavier, started to become so hard to pull that your lungs started with burn with the effort.

The wooden floor turned to dirt as you threw the front door open, practically floating down the steps until you could walk out toward the gate. Fresh air did nothing to ease your laboured breathing. Something brushed against your shoulder. Instinct kicked in and you jumped, brushing your shoulder frantically to get whatever it was off.

Nothing was there.

You’re broken, that voice inside your head taunted. It had been biding its time, staying silent until your moment of weakness. You're a burden on their celebration. A strangled sob caught in your throat. 

Hold it together, your own voice thought. You couldn't let them see you breaking down. This was cultural, they were having fun, you were not going to ruin it for anybody. But just the thought of everything had your head reeling. The world started to tilt and your hand darted out to catch yourself on a tree.

Something wet slid down your cheeks as you let yourself fall to the ground, your knees pulled tightly to your chest. He could've been here with you, the voice said. He could've been celebrating with you right now.

"Shut up," you whispered with a shaky exhale before squeezing your eyes shut.

“We can’t start without Nicky,” you said as you plopped onto the couch. Little Alex was quick to crawl into your lap.

“We’re not starting without him,” Momma said with a gentle smile even as she continued to plate the food. “We’re just getting things ready.”

“Where’d he go, anyhow?” Pop asked.

You simply shrugged. “Think he went to feed Steve.”

You had barely finished getting the words out of your mouth when the porch door opened and Nicky came in, straw stuck in his hair and yellow hair covering his clothes. With a snort, you quickly turned away when you noticed he was covered in drying patches of mud.

“What the hell happened to you?” Auntie C asked, not even trying to hide her laughter.

“That stupid goat kicked me!” He shouted, his finger pointing outside to where you assumed Steve was still standing.

“Were you mean to him?” You asked. “He’s sensitive.”

“He’s about to be dinner,” Nicky grumbled.

“Go clean up before dinner,” Momma ordered. “We’ve all been waiting long enough.”

“Yes, Momma,” he said softly. You stuck your tongue out at him as he passed you.

The warmth of another human spread through your arm when someone sat beside you, their arm pressed gently against yours. That all-too-familiar hammer inside your skull continued its rampage, but you managed to pry your eyes open nonetheless. To the side of you, Abuelita was sitting with her back against the tree and her withered hand fell to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“He loved you,” she said in heavily accented English.

Wait.

English?

You turned your head quickly to look at her, all thoughts of your grief momentarily forgotten.

“You’ve known English this whole time?” You asked. “And you never told me?”

Abuelita laughed. “It is more fun to tease you.”

She looked far too smug about the admittance. Had everyone known she could speak English? Because if they could, that was just rude that they had let you flounder instead of filling you in. Yes you tried harder to learn Spanish for her, but she couldn’t have given you the smallest bit of reprieve? The nerve of everybody.

“He’s watching you,” she said softly.

You followed her pointed finger to see Nicky’s spectre standing across the way, leaning his shoulder against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He had given you that look so many times it was almost comforting. Except for the fact you could see through him, and his smile had lost its joy. He was nothing more than a shell.

“You can see him too?” You asked when it hit you that Abuelita knew exactly where to point.

She was silent, and when you looked at her there was a mischievous smile on her lips. “Surely you did not think I was only your Abuelita.”

“Well-” you huffed, “-yeah, I did.”

"I've been around longer than you think, cariña," she said.

"Great," you mumbled, "so I've got a witch in the family too."

There was no possible way your mind could comprehend the knew bit of information. Not at that moment. Too much was going on, your head was still reeling, and that prickling behind your eyes was humiliating. Nicky was watching, Abuelita was watching, and that voice in your head still wouldn't shut up 

"He wants you to celebrate his life," Abuelita said. "Not his death."

A lump lodged itself in your throat as the tears started to fall.

"He should be here," you said.

Across the way, Nicky was still looking at you, smiling in a way that made you feel sick. It wasn't his typical happy-go-lucky smile. No, this was more of a final goodbye smile. Was he leaving you? No, he couldn't be leaving, he couldn't.

"He will always be with you.” Abuelita squeezed right above your knee; it almost tickled. “Because he loves you.”

“I need him,” you whispered with a soft exhale through your nose.

“And the living need you.”

What little air was in your lungs left you in a shaky huff. Leave it Abuelita to stab you in the heart with the softest of words. It was nothing you weren’t aware of; you couldn’t coexist with the dead the same way you did with the living. No matter how hard you tried, Nicky wasn’t going to be able to watch movies with you, or give you advice, or help you with your troubles. He would be there watching, but that would be the extent of it.

You hated her for being right.

“Wednesday is worried about you,” she said with another squeeze of your leg. You turned to look at her with glassy eyes that she was kind enough not to mention.

“How do I explain this?” You asked, gesturing your head to where Nicky was still watching you both.

“She’s more understanding than you think,” she said with a nod. “But you could always say her pitiful attempt at tamales was too devastating for you.”

“I’m never asking you for relationship advice,” you said with your own nod. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Abuelita laughed, light and airy and happy, and you couldn’t help but follow.

“Help an old lady to her feet,” Abuelita said when you had both settled.

“Yes ma’am,” you said softly before standing up and easing Abuelita up.

She quickly looped her arm through yours until you were both walking back to the house. You turned around only once. Nicky was still standing there, now with his hands in his pockets. His smile had turned more genuine, and he gestured his head toward the house and waved.

That deep ache in your chest came back. You smiled back anyway and turned back around to the house when Abuelita squeezed your arm. With a deep exhale, you nodded to yourself and helped her in. One step at a time.

One step at a time.

—---

The weekend didn’t get any easier. In fact, it was almost more difficult than before Abuelita had talked with you. The celebrations continued, you helped, and you had to work harder to try and participate. No running out of the house, no crying, you just did your best to pull up your big kid pants and not ruin things for everyone else.

Wednesday had been kind enough not to bring up your daring escape. When you had both settled in for the night and had gotten into bed, she actually turned around and wrapped her arms around your neck. It wasn’t a comfortable position, you both woke up with aches that you hadn’t known existed, but you would admit to yourself that you had never slept better.

But then it was time for a whole new slew of problems.

“Would you like to put Nicky’s picture on the ofrenda?” Wednesday had the nerve to ask.

You had both been sitting on the loveseat in the library, enjoying the few moments of peace it provided. Your coffee had long since gone cold, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Both yours and Wednesday’s books had been far too enthralling, and Wednesday had seemed far too comfortable in your lap for you to disrupt her for a simple beverage.

Deep down, you wanted to tell her no. It would be too official, too condemning. If he was on the ofrenda, then how were you supposed to continue the delusion that he was alive and well? You would be admitting to everyone that he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

“You’re useless,” Nicky scoffed from his corner of the library. “You’d better put me on there.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back your retort to his ghost. “And don’t forget the treats, I would love some of those little blueberry muffins you and Momma make.”

“No,” you said simply, finally answering Wednesday’s question. She fidgeted until she could look up at you from her place in your lap.

“Why not?” She asked not unkindly.

Don’t tell her, the voice in your head threatened, she’ll think you’re insane.

Abuelita’s words echoed in your head, quickly drowning out the threats and fear.

“Because,” you started slowly, “Nicky’s in the corner begging for food.”

The library was silent, only interrupted by the occasional noise emanating from the rest of the house. If your heart had been beating any faster, you swore it would have made a great escape from your chest. You knew you shouldn’t have said anything to Wednesday. Her family was weird, sure, but they weren’t “I can see my dead brother laughing at me” weird.

“Your Tio mentioned something about candies,” Wednesday said as if you hadn’t just mentioned your brother’s ghost over in the corner. “Would that suffice?”

“Absolutely,” Nicky answered quickly.

“Nah,” you said with a shake of your head, your eyes never leaving the corner of the library. “He wouldn’t want sweets.”

“I’m haunting you for the rest of your life,” Nicky threatened.

You just smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Wednesday’s forehead. The lightest blush dusted across her cheeks, but she otherwise stayed silent. It would always be funny to you how reserved she would get around other people. You weren’t mean, you wouldn’t dare break her boundaries, but even the little things had her flustered.

Even though you had tried to pretend otherwise, you had quickly dragged Wednesday downstairs to help you make the blueberry muffins Nicky had requested. Maybe you added a little salt, and maybe you didn’t use as many blueberries as he would have liked, but no one else would know. Well, no one except for Abuelita, who laughed when she noticed what you were doing.

It wasn’t too difficult to place the muffins on the ofrenda; they were just muffins. The hard part was when Tio brought you the picture frame. You tried to push him to do it, to have him place it down, but he insisted.

“He would want you to do it, pollito,” Tio had said softly before squeezing your shoulder gently. Your wings twitched.

It was unceremonious at best; you could feel everyone watching you, waiting to see if you could hold on to your sanity for the few seconds it would take to place it down. And you did. You set it on the ofrenda and made sure it was facing just the perfect direction. The light from the overhead window shone just right to illuminate his smile.

That alone was what pushed you to leave the room, practically running back up to Wednesday’s room to recover.

“Do you require a break from everything?” Wednesday asked as she slipped into her room, quickly closing the door behind her.

You shifted on the bed until you could face her. "It's just…” you sighed, “it’s just a lot.”

Wednesday nodded thoughtfully a few times before her feet led her to the bed. Second nature took over and you moved aside just enough for her to sit on the edge of the bed, her back ramrod straight. It looked painful, to be sitting so still and perfectly. How her back didn’t constantly hurt and ache, you had no idea. But when she reached over to take your hand, pulling it into her lap, you suddenly didn’t care anymore.

“You could always take your worry out on Pugsley,” she said, her soft fingers playing with yours. “He’s due for the electric chair.”

“No,” you sighed as you turned onto your side to watch her better. She looked stunning.

“Or we could use him for target practice,” she continued as she turned her head to look at you. With those eyes? You would burn the whole world for her. “You always seem more relaxed when you’re shooting things on your games.”

Well wait, maybe she had a good idea.

“Can I just-” you exhaled slowly through your nose, “-can I just have a hug?”

You knew it was a longshot. Even though Wednesday had eased into physical affection a lot lately, you knew she still wasn’t the biggest fan of it. She wasn’t her parents, as she was so keen to tell you. But that’s exactly what made it all the more exciting when she nodded once and laid down on the bed, quickly wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a hug.

“You smell like bread,” you whispered into her hair.

“God you’re gay,” Nicky said, suddenly appearing in the corner of the room. Always the corner. “Can you please just say something normal for once?”

“Is he back?” Wednesday asked, her lips brushing against your collar bone and sending a slight shiver down your spine. “You stiffened.”

“Yes,” you said. “He’s being a dick.”

She hummed before pulling back to look at you. “Then let’s scare him away.”

“What-”

She cut you off with a kiss. Nothing deep, nothing sensual, but still full of the emotions she so rarely allowed herself to openly express. Her fingers scratched lightly against the back of your neck and all the anxiety dissipated from your body. It was amazing how she could manage to do such a thing to you with only a simple kiss.

“I’m gonna puke,” Nicky groaned, “enjoy your girlfriend, you homo.”

You smiled when Nicky vanished.

“Is he gone?” Wednesday asked, her lips still close enough to yours that you could feel more than hear her.

“Not yet,” you lied effortlessly. “I think we should keep going.”

She saw through you, you knew she did. It was in the small smile she gave you and the roll of her eyes. And yet, she pulled you back into another kiss. Except this one she deepened, her grip on you tightening until you couldn’t be any closer. It warmed you from the inside, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Grief could wait. You were with your girl.

--------------------------

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everyone but her pt.35

Summary: Holidays roll around, and you and Wednesday are spending them with your family. It's full of chaos, bickering with Ash, and the usual feelings about a certain family member missing. At least something about the cold months makes Wednesday's heart a little warmer.

Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: swearing, grief, mentions of murder, police Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Where are you two going for Christmas?” Ash asked as she forced herself between you and Wednesday on the couch.

“Get out of my apartment,” you said without turning your eyes away from the television.

“It’s technically Wednesday’s apartment,” she said quickly. “You’re just the local freeloader.”

Wednesday genuinely enjoyed having Ash around. No one else could create such a look of pure malice on you. It was a stunning look. Wednesday always felt her chest tighten at such beauty when you were only moments away from strangling Ash for whatever comment she had made. Oh, how she would kill for you.

“I believe we will be going to Y/N’s home,” Wednesday answered when it was clear you wouldn’t.

“Perfect, then I’m riding home with you,” Ash said with a tone of finality that seemed impressively identical to yours.

The front door creaked open, and you all turned to see Bianca walking through the doorway. She froze with her hand on the doorknob, but quickly regained her composure to finish walking in. Wednesday frowned when she just let the door inch shut instead of just closing it on her own. But judging by the smile on Bianca’s face, it had been done on purpose.

“If you say you’re coming too, I’m strangling you,” you said, still not looking in the direction of anyone in particular.

“I was invited,” Bianca answered with a shrug before promptly sitting on the arm of the couch. It seemed she had lost all sense of decorum.

“Not by me,” you grumbled.

“Oh please, it’s not even a big deal,” Ash said. “You ride the bus.” She jabbed her finger into your chest. “The public bus.”

“For your information, Ashley,” you finally turned to look at her. “I fly and Wednesday rides the bus.”

“You let your poor, defenseless girlfriend ride the bus alone?” She asked with the slightest tilt of her head.

“Defenseless?” Wednesday asked.

“I refrain from any motor vehicle on four wheels now, thank you very much,” you said as if Wednesday hadn’t even spoken.

She was still beyond offended at the insinuation that she was defenseless.

“Do you two do anything other than bicker?” Bianca asked.

“No,” you and Ash both said simultaneously before ceaselessly continuing your bickering. Which, Wednesday would add, had nothing to do with the trip anymore.

“They do this all the time?” Bianca asked, locking eyes with Wednesday and raising a single brow. Wednesday just nodded once. “And you tolerate it?” Wednesday nodded again. “You’re much better than me, Addams.”

Both you and Ash continued your bickering as if there was nothing else going on in the world. As if Wednesday and Bianca weren’t still sitting on the couch, watching the show that you had put on that they very clearly had no interest in. If Wednesday was right - which she always was - it was your favourite dinosaur show at the moment.

It clearly emphasised how distracted you got when Ash came to poke the sleeping bear that was your fragile temper.

Bianca sighed, and Wednesday would have laughed at the expression on her face. If she did that sort of thing, of course. She would consider Bianca her friend nowadays, it was true. But that didn’t mean she didn’t still have those “nemesis” emotions still within her when it came to the Siren.

“So are we going together or not?” Bianca asked, and both you and Ash stopped mid-sentence.

“Obviously?” You said with the most disgusted look on your face. “Weren’t you listening?”

“You and Addams are perfect for each other,” Bianca said quietly. She reached out to grab Ash’s hand and pulled her up. “We have to study for tomorrow.”

“See you later!” Ash said quickly, practically running after Bianca.

“See ya,” you mumbled with a half-hearted wave before instantly turning back to the television as if you had not just griped and complained for the past 10 minutes.

Wednesday knew better than to try and question you about the entire thing with Ash. Not that the curiosity didn’t tug at the corners of her brain, but you would never explain. Something that in the past would have driven Wednesday to near insanity. Now, however, she simply found it typical. On a good day, she would even go so far as to say it was admirable how tight-lipped you could be.

She said nothing before she moved until she was sitting directly beside you, her thigh touching yours, as she laid her head against your shoulder. Your instinctual flinch was one of the shortest in a while. An improvement of the highest quality, Wednesday believed. It brought a certain, not unwelcome warmth to her chest.

“I’ll ride the bus on Saturday,” you said. Out of the corner of her eye, Wednesday noted you hadn’t even turned your attention away from the television.

You had such funny ways of saying “I love you.”

—---

For all intents and purposes, you behaved spectacularly on the bus ride home. Of course you had practically forced Ash and Bianca to sit in the row ahead, and you had grabbed Wednesday’s hand without even hinting at asking for permission, but you behaved. And as far as Wednesday was concerned, so did the other couple. She could forgive you for the utter indiscretion of the hand holding.

“Do they always do that?” You asked, gesturing your head forward.

In front of you, Ash was resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder. Nothing too dissimilar from when Wednesday would lean against you.

“Yes,” she said simply before continuing reading the book you had gotten her just the day before.

It was a rather fascinating book, one that she never would have picked up on her own accord. Something about a detective following some serial killer with certain tones of depravity that she could appreciate. Her pride would never allow her to admit it was spectacularly written and utterly captivating, but she didn’t have to. The speed at which she was soaring through the pages made it clear.

Perhaps you knew her interests better than she had perceived.

“Why did you know before me?” You asked. “What about you said “yeah, tell me the gossip before anyone else?” It’s not fair.”

There was no point in even attempting to read her book. Clearly something was on your mind, and if Wednesday ignored you, you would only continue getting more agitated until someone asked you to speak your mind. Though if you wanted a real answer or you were simply venting, she had no idea. That wasn’t something she had learned to differentiate quite yet.

“They believed you would react like this,” Wednesday said. A little white lie, harmless. “Seemed they were right.”

“Who do I give the shovel talk to?” You mumbled. “They’re both my friends.”

Wednesday had to bite her tongue to keep from asking what it mattered. They were both your friends, sure, but was this really the most important thing to you at the moment? A shovel talk? Shouldn’t you be more concerned with the police investigation that somehow always found its way back to you? Or that you still had nightmares from Mac’s death?

“Then talk with them both,” she said instead, “and be done with it.”

“That’s no fun,” you grumbled, but otherwise settled back into the seat.

Wednesday had gotten to page 233 before the bus pulled into the station in your little town. Thankfully no one had too much luggage and it was easy for the four of you to get off and wait patiently. There was very little talk, everyone seeming too tired due to the late arrival and the long trip. It was the preferred option, Wednesday would admit. She appreciated her friends, but she preferred them to be silent.

“You youngins need a lift?”

Your shoulders relaxed instinctively at the sound of Pop’s voice. It was a much welcome change, though it left an uncomfortable feeling in Wednesday’s chest. Rarely did you fully relax when she talked to you. Not that she cared nor minded, obviously. Whatever it took to ease your worries.

She did not care.

You introduced your Pop to Bianca before hastily pulling Wednesday into the bed of the truck. Like that first visit, you held your hand out for her to take, leaving yourself as an assistant to climbing up. You stayed steady even as she used you to pull herself up. Out of a desire to hide the embarrassing heat in her cheeks, she refused to look at the painfully gentle smile you gave her.

Pop dropped Bianca and Ash off at Ash’s family home. Wednesday did not fail to notice the easy-going look on your face when they had turned their backs to you. Why were you so insistent on not showing them that you cared? Or perhaps it was strictly Ash that you refused to show. Wednesday knew she did the same thing, especially when it came to her friends, but it didn’t seem characteristic for you.

“Welcome back, baby bird,” Pop said when he reached over to pat your shoulder. You gave him a quick smile before continuing to pull the bags out of the truck.

“Everyone asleep already?” You asked.

“Out like a light,” he said, making an unusual movement with his jaw while he talked. It was only then that Wednesday noticed the toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“We in the living room?” You continued even as you all started walking up to the house.

Wednesday happily invited the warm feeling in her stomach when you switched the bags to one arm and held her hand with the other. If she would allow herself to be so bold, holding your hand was probably one of her favourite things, especially out in public. It was subtle, but there was something strangely intimate about the act.

The subtle intimacy was something her parents could stand to learn.

“Basement,” Pop said. “Your Abuelita made up the pull-out couch.”

“Our own little apartment,” you said with a smile far more appropriate for the teasing tone.

“Just don’t tell your Grandpa,” Pop grumbled. “He’ll behave, but you know he don’t like it.”

“I’ll behave,” you said.

For some reason, neither Wednesday nor Pop believed you.

It only took a few more minutes to get inside, say goodnight to Pop, and go downstairs. Wednesday hadn’t seen the basement of the house yet, but it felt homey. You had mentioned on occasion how you and Nicky would have sleepovers with all the others down there. Watching movies, playing games, karaoke nights. With how much space was down there, it was no surprise it had essentially become the “kid hangout.”

“Bathroom is through there-” you gestured in the proper direction with your head, “-and I’ll finish getting everything ready.”

Wednesday nodded once. Getting ready was like a well-oiled machine. You handed her the overnight bag without looking up, and she took it. There was the slightest tremble in your hand when her fingers grazed yours, but you otherwise remained focused. Without even an ounce of hesitation, she leaned over to press her lips against your cheek, sighing softly to herself at the warmth, and quickly left you where you were standing.

She sneered after she shut the bathroom door. A kiss on the cheek; yet another subtle intimacy that she swore her parents would never understand. They were so convinced that every bit of romance or intimacy had to be over the top. But something as simple as what she had just done? That was more than enough to send a warmth from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Warmth. Now that was something Wednesday hadn’t ever anticipated desiring. Yet, with each passing day, she found herself practically craving it. Not just from anybody, though, of course not. Simply from you. Whether it was your presence, or the warmth of your hand in hers, or the weight of your wings draped across her. Just… you.

Haphazardly, she wiped the speck of toothpaste from the corner of her mouth and locked eyes with herself in the mirror. What were you doing to her? The scowl that she had carefully crafted over years of practice had lost its edge. Now she almost looked… approachable. It was like you had taken her sharpness and carefully sanded it down to something soft, something that could be held without fear of injury.

It was decided. She was going to smother you with a pillow.

You were in the process of attempting to put some sleep pants on when Wednesday came out of the bathroom. She waited, watching silently as you hopped around, nearly tripping over the bags that you had unceremoniously dropped on the floor. The smallest of grunts left your mouth when you hit your foot on the couch after forcefully pushing it through the bottom of your pants. It was ridiculous.

She liked you being ridiculous.

Her body froze.

Scratch her earlier plan; she was going to strangle you in your sleep with her bare hands.

But the moment she saw your crooked smile, and felt your arms wrap around her when you both lay down in bed? That was all it took for her nefarious plans to disappear. Instead, they were replaced by that warm feeling in her chest and the tickle of your breath against the shell of her ear.

Maybe she wouldn’t strangle you just yet.

—---

It was breakfast two days later when there was a knock on the door.

All the kids were out in the back, while everyone else was either working or in town. That simply left you and Wednesday in the kitchen, another pot of coffee already in the process of being brewed. She looked at you when the knock came again. You just shrugged.

“Might be Santa,” you said with a poorly concealed smile before getting up and walking to the front.

Wednesday stayed in her spot on the kitchen bench, her second book resting open on the table as she took another sip of her coffee. She was unsure what brand your family used, but she enjoyed it. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but that was precisely what she preferred. It was dark and bitter and helped roughen up some of those edges of hers that you had been softening.

She didn’t bother listening in to the hushed voices at the door. You were more than capable of answering a guest. Besides, she was fascinated with the book that Daniel had loaned her. It was simple, yet entertaining. Some book about a fictional doctor studying Outcasts. And she was even more impressed with the drawings. They almost got the wing anatomy right.

At the sound of numerous pairs of footsteps on the wooden floor, Wednesday looked up from the words on the page. You gave her a quick kiss on the head when you walked past her and started rifling through your mug cabinet. There, standing awkwardly in the doorway, were Ash and Bianca. Ash’s eyes looked bloodshot, and Bianca had a slight frown.

They didn’t move until you placed the mugs full of coffee on the table. Almost in sync, they sat down across from Wednesday as you replaced the cream and sugar on the table. No one really said a word when you sat back down beside Wednesday, but the tension was still in the air. It was uncomfortable.

“Ash’s dad came home,” you said softly when Ash and Bianca headed down to the basement.

Wednesday took the newly-washed mug from your hands and started drying it. “That’s a bad thing.”

“He’s homophobic,” you shrugged. Wednesday nodded. “And hates Outcasts.”

The four of you helped rearrange the basement to fit two beds. It wasn’t difficult, but you continuously bickered with Ash over the littlest of things. Which was precisely why Bianca and Wednesday put you two to work together while they worked silently and efficiently.

They made a silent vow to never tell anyone about the other’s softness for their partner.

By the time everyone came back home, no one questioned why there were two more plates on the dinner table. Auntie C simply took to Bianca like a fish to water, the both of them talking nonstop about anything and everything. Wednesday had to try her hardest not to let her smile slip when you finally noticed that they were talking about you.

“Well I have to do someone’s hair,” Auntie C said when you called her out on her poorly-devised plan. “And the kids aren’t old enough to have more than a few minutes of fun.”

“Why don’t you help me with mine?” You asked. “I always need help.”

“Your hair isn’t as much fun,” she said with a shrug before smirking at Bianca.

“She doesn’t even have hair!” You groaned.

“Which makes for a perfect blank slate,” Auntie C said.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bianca said. “Maybe one day she’ll help you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled before grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her outside.

The days flew by in much the same way. The four of you would get up and go upstairs for coffee. If you were early enough, you could say hi to the adults before they left for work. Depending on the day, you all either helped watch the kids, or helped with chores. More often than not, you were in charge of mucking out stalls since you were housing three horses for the winter break.

“Ash never has to muck out the stalls,” you grumbled.

Wednesday stayed silent on her perch, the newly-repaired wooden railing just high enough for her to be above eye level with you.

The horse you had secured outside the stall snorted in response.

“I know,” you said with a nod of your head, “she never even comes to see you.”

The horse tapped his foot on the ground twice.

“Yes, Hailey will bring you an apple later,” you said.

Wednesday watched in silent amusement as you continued to talk to the horse while you cleaned. Sometimes you would stand up straight and wipe your brow, giving an unimpressed look at the horse, before continuing cleaning. This pattern continued with the other two horses, as well as Steve’s stall.

She made sure to go inside before you let him out. He had given her one too many mischievous looks, and she didn’t think she could handle having to repair another pair of pants.

“Wanna help me wrap presents?” Emily asked at the exact moment that the door closed behind Wednesday.

How could she say no when Emily, in all her young wisdom, pouted and whispered a “please?” that was eerily similar to yours. It was frustrating, to say the least. That a simple word, a simple inflection could remind her so much of you that she was willing to assist a child with… gift wrapping. It was disgusting and undignified.

It only took them an hour to finish all the presents.

When you came back into the house, after Wednesday had been roped into helping all the children wrap presents, you were on the phone. She was concerned at first; the last time she had truly seen you on the phone alone was when Nicky had died. Her heart started to race and she had already started coming up with a plan to keep you stable, to keep you from running away from her again.

She hated when you ran away from her.

But the typical tension in your shoulders was absent, and you still walked in and sat beside her as if nothing was wrong. In fact, you even reached over and locked your fingers with hers without hesitation. She leaned a little further into you, ignoring the teasing look Bianca sent her way, and let her heart rate return to normal.

If she was eavesdropping on your call, that was no one’s business but hers.

When you hung up the call, instinctual curiosity nearly caused Wednesday to ask who you had been talking to. But she quickly bit her tongue, knowing it would be considered rude. Not that she necessarily cared, but there were other people in the room and she was not going to give Bianca the satisfaction of doing something socially inappropriate.

“Casey called,” you said anyway, seemingly answering the unasked question. “Just wanted to talk, I guess.”

Wednesday never considered her a jealous person. Distrustful, yes, but not jealous. But just the thought of you talking to your brother’s old partner had her on edge. Had you talked to Casey on the phone before that moment? She was aware that you had bumped into him and Devan not too long ago, but did you talk? Were you close?

Why would he want to talk to you so badly as to call you on your winter break?

“You’re thinking too loud,” you said softly enough for only her to hear. “I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

From you? That answer would suffice.

—---

When Wednesday walked into the kitchen, you were already there. She had gotten more than comfortable walking your house and yard on her own. Sometimes she preferred it, using it as her time to get some peace and quiet that she so desired. There was something endearing about your family’s dynamics, but she needed some silence every now and then.

Her body stopped in its tracks when she saw your lips moving. You were still looking down at the lunch you were making for everyone, but you continued your silent talking. If she listened carefully, she could hear the wispy words falling from your lips.

It wasn’t the first time Wednesday had walked in on you seemingly talking to yourself. She had found you a few times in the past, usually when you were in the kitchen, having a full conversation with yourself. At least she assumed it was with yourself. Now that she was going over it in her head, she supposed you could also be talking with Nicky.

There had been an initial concern when you had told her you could still see him. The Addamses were no strangers to ghosts or spectres, but she knew it wasn’t entirely common amongst the majority of the population. That same concern had only grown at the anxiety that she could practically feel coming off your body as you told her. Like the good girlfriend she was attempting to be, she accepted the fact without question.

All it took was a small talk with your Abuelita to learn that it wasn’t entirely impossible and ease her concern.

As she watched, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose. Wednesday’s pulse quickened; she knew that look. Without second thought, she walked over to you - a little quicker than normal, she would admit - and wasted no time in placing her hands on your cheeks. It was a gesture she had experimented with and had come to the conclusion that, yes, it worked.

When your face almost instantly relaxed, she was proven right yet again.

“Is it Nicky?” She asked quietly. She wasn’t stupid, she knew it was a sensitive topic, but the only way to know for sure was to ask.

Your eyes darted to the side quickly before looking at her again.

“Yes.”

The sound of her heart echoed loudly in her ears. Through horrendous amounts of research, Wednesday knew how to tell when someone was lying. From the way they lick their lips to where their eyes go. It didn’t matter if it was a big or small lie, the signs were all the same.

And you? You had just lied to her.

“He’s giving me a headache,” you said with a shrug. Behind you, your wings ruffled lightly underneath your shirt.

Wednesday was smart enough not to question when you had started wearing your harness more during the day time. It had happened some time after getting back from the dia de los muertos celebration. You had never mentioned it, and she had thought it was better to just let you do what you felt you needed to. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell how uncomfortable you were with it.

And it didn’t stop your wings from giving away your lies.

“Can you get the paper plates, please?” You asked, not unkindly pulling away from her hands and facing the stove once again.

It hurt. Which left for an unusual feeling in Wednesday’s chest and a strange ball of tension in her throat. She grabbed the plates from the designated cabinet and tried to ignore the feeling, but it was impossible. Had you ever lied to her before? Nothing immediately came to mind, and it was concerning. Why would you decide now to lie to her? And what could have been worth it?

She didn’t know. But she was going to find out.

—---

It was two days before Christmas when you left to go visit Nicky.

“I won’t be long,” you said without looking up from the small picnic basket you were packing. “Just gonna bring him some of Momma’s pumpkin rolls.”

Wednesday wouldn’t dare tell you not to go. She wasn’t entirely sure if you were coping in a healthy way, but who was she to speak up? Her family certainly weren’t the baseline of normality when it came to coping and grieving. Death wasn’t some horrendous thing that most people saw it as, not to the Addamses. And even though you fit in perfectly, you weren’t an Addams.

Take me with you, she thought. Let me keep you out of trouble. It was an unusual thought, and it took her by surprise. Part of what she had initially adored about you was your penchant for getting into trouble. Yet with this? Every fibre of her being wanted desperately to keep you safe. It was an uncomfortable feeling and she wanted it to go away.

“Don’t be out too late,” was what Wednesday finally said. “They still have yet to find that killer in DC.”

“Killer?” You asked, freezing in place. Your eyes trailed off, not looking at anything in particular before they widened and your mouth made an adorable little “o.” Not that Wednesday thought it was adorable. “You mean the one that got Mr. Hart?”

Wednesday nodded.

“I hope I do see him.”

She gave you the most unamused look she could muster. “That’s not comforting.”

“I need to congratulate the man,” you said. A smile more suited to your true personality slowly grew. “Maybe I’ll offer him a pumpkin roll.”

“Please stay out of trouble,” she said with a sigh that she did her best to hide. “I can bail you out of jail again, but would prefer not to.”

“You didn’t like picturing me behind bars?” You asked. Wednesday did her best to keep down the heat that was rising on her cheeks. “I think you liked me in handcuffs.”

“You two are disgusting.”

You both jumped - it was the first time Wednesday was thankful you were wearing your harness - when Ash walked into the kitchen. She wasn’t looking at either of you directly, but Wednesday could see her smirk. It was similar to Hailey’s. And yours. Oh, you all really had practically grown up together.

“Then quit eavesdropping,” you said. All teasing in your tone was gone.

Wednesday missed it within an instant.

“If you’re not home in time for dinner, I’m letting Wednesday sleep in the bed with me and Bianca,” Ash continued as she grabbed one of the pumpkin rolls from the plate.

“I’m not a stray,” Wednesday mumbled.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” you said quickly. “Keep your hands off my girlfriend.”

“Gotta keep you motivated somehow,” Ash said with a smile before she backed out of the kitchen. “Tell Nicky I said hi!”

“You’ll be safe?” Wednesday said again, not even caring if Ash heard her or not. She was more focused on the fact that, at the mention of Ash saying hi to Nicky, you had sombered rapidly. “No killers?”

“You almost sound like you care, Wends,” you said, but that troubled frown morphed into the smallest of smiles. “What would Enid think?”

“Enid would think nothing of it because no one will tell her.” She did her best to make it a threat, but it fell on deaf ears. You both knew she wouldn’t do anything.

“I’ll be safe,” you finally said, “and I won’t congratulate killers.”

Thank you, she thought even though she couldn’t get herself to say it aloud. Instead, she stood up on her toes and kissed you on the cheek. A soft kiss, one planted firmly enough to know she was serious. To show she cared, even if she wouldn’t say it in so many words.

“Can I kiss you back?” You asked.

Wednesday only had to nod once before you cupped her cheeks and kissed her just as softly. Where she had used to find it a little ridiculous that you would ask every single time, now she truly loved it. To know that you respected her boundaries enough to ask, no matter the situation? It was something she hadn’t expected to receive from anyone, and yet you did it so effortlessly.

“I’ll be back tonight,” you whispered against her lips.

With one final press of your lips against hers, you pulled away, grabbed the picnic basket, and left.

“Your cheeks are red,” Ash said. She was leaning against the doorframe with a look that was very much her own. “In case you didn’t know.”

“You and Bianca truly deserve each other,” Wednesday said as she quickly pushed past Ash.

She was going to kill you for humiliating her like that.

It was far into the night when you finally came home. Now, Wednesday would cut you a bit of slack, you had called to let everyone know you had been late. “Held up,” were your exact words. She couldn’t be sure if anyone else had noticed, but she could practically feel the tension of your words through the phone. In her mind’s eye, you were clenching your teeth and your wings were doing the equivalent of shaking fists.

Everyone had already gotten in bed, including Wednesday, when you finally attempted to sneak into the basement. Not that you were very loud, you had actually gotten much better at sneaking around. But Wednesday knew what you sounded like when you were trying to be silent. Too many nights of you coming home late from work, or therapy, or even just one of your late walks had conditioned her to know your sounds.

It was in the slightest ruffle of feathers, because you never came home from a late night excursion with your harness on. Then there was the oh so subtle sound of your footsteps. You stepped on the balls of your feet to minimise the noise; something you also did when you believed someone was in a bad mood. Perhaps, she thought, it had something to do with that abuse Ash had mentioned all that time ago.

Which… actually wasn’t that long ago, now that Wednesday was thinking about it.

She made it a habit, if she was still awake, to look for your eyes glowing in the dark. It made it easier to keep track of where you were and how much longer it would be before you got into bed. Even though she would rather perish than admit it, she always counted down expectantly until you were beside her once again.

When the bed shifted underneath her, she startled. How had you managed to sneak up on her when she had heard every sound you had made? Surely she would have caught your eyes at some point, they were practically neon against the pitch black. But it was certainly your arm wrapped around her waist, and your small kisses behind her ear.

“Sorry I scared you,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

You hadn’t scared her. That’s what she wanted to say, at least. But you felt too warm, and you were holding her a little too close, and she had missed you. She turned around, being careful not to jostle you too much. All she really wanted was to place her head beneath your jaw in the safety of darkness where no one could peek into her secret joy.

“I love you,” you said softly before planting a quick kiss on her forehead.

She opened her eyes to look at you, the words ready and waiting on her lips, but she froze.

Your eyes weren’t glowing.

The night seemed to drag on without Wednesday getting an ounce of sleep. How could she when you were no longer you? You had sounded like you; had felt like you all throughout the night. But your eyes… how could that be explained? For as long as Wednesday had known you, she didn’t think your eyes had ever not glowed in the dark.

When morning came and you both woke up, it was as if nothing had happened. Your eyes were still slightly fluorescent in the barely present morning sun. There was the usual sleepiness in your eyes and your smile was small and you looked… like the you she knew and adored.

“You were late,” Wednesday tried to say on the rare instance that she had you alone. It was Christmas Eve and she knew the children were getting excitedly anxious.

“My parents were there,” you said. Wednesday froze, but you quickly shook your head. “It wasn’t as awful as expected.”

“Would you-,” she exhaled slowly, “-would you like to talk about it?”

“Are you mentally prepared for it?” You asked in return.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she was or not. It had been a while since you had decided to talk about anything serious. In theory, yes she was mentally prepared. You had asked before bringing it up. She had already been stewing over everything  the entire night anyway. How was an actual conversation any different?

“Yes,” she finally said.

“They were actually there for Mr. Hart,” you said, pulling Wednesday over onto the outside porch swing with you. Thankfully, most everyone was out skiing. “Which was no surprise, they never cared.”

Wednesday let her head fall onto your shoulder. She couldn’t look at you if she wanted to listen properly and understand her own reactions to your words. That did not, however, mean she couldn’t at least lean against you and comfort you in the way Enid had taught her.

Maybe she needed to learn from someone other than Enid.

“There were a few people around, so I guess they felt obligated to talk to me,” you said with a shrug that jostled her head. “It was clearly uncomfortable for everyone.”

“Was the topic unpleasant?” She asked. Excellent follow up question, she thought to herself, you’re doing great. Yes. Yes she was.

“Just asked about school and work,” you continued. Your hand fell to her thigh and your thumb rubbed lightly over the fabric of her pants. It was borderline uncomfortable; she loved it.

“How was your anger metre?”

“You haven’t asked that in a while,” you mumbled. “It was about a 6,” you answered anyway. “Would’ve been higher if they had even had the decency to save face.”

Wednesday wanted to ask you to specify. Not just what would have made your metre rise, but what you even meant in the first place. There was just too much she didn’t know about your parents, your past, how it all connected. Too many unknowns lead her to question how she was even supposed to comfort you. Hold a conversation with you about your feelings. Feelings were difficult enough without your past coming into play.

Why did you have to make an already difficult thing even worse?

She was amazed by your abilities.

“Your eyes were dull when you got into bed.”

The admittance had Wednesday’s body freeze up. Why would she so openly play her only card like that? She was a detective by trade, of course, but she was better than this. There was no doubt you would have told her anything she asked, but she wasn’t supposed to let you know she was suspicious of something!

You stayed still underneath her as you played over her statement. She knew you were because your mouth was quirked to the side, and it looked like you were chewing on your bottom lip. It was so very you that she felt something tugging at her chest. Tugging harder with each beat of her heart, doing its best to push her closer to you just to savour the you-ness of it all.

“Explains the migraine,” you finally said, so quietly that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear it. “Curious.”

You stayed silent, just pulling Wednesday closer until she was sitting in your lap and you held her so tightly it was almost painful. Beneath her ear, she could hear your racing heart. Beneath her fingertips, she felt the slightest tremor of the muscles under your skin. The slightest scratch of your nails on her back was both soothing and irritating.

And yet you didn’t say another word. And Wednesday was left with more questions than answers.

————————–

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everyone but her pt.36

Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”

“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”

If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.

Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year.  Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.

“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”

Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?

“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”

Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.

A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.

Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.

“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee.  “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”

She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.

“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”

“A bit,” you said with a nod.

It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.

Except.

“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.

The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.

It was the murder.

If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.

Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.

There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.

You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.

“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.

Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.

“I need to,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.

Now that was worth coming back to the present for.

—---

“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.

“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”

“Then be more specific next time,” she said.

You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!

Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.

“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.

“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.

Well. Except for Enid.

“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”

“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.

“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.

Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.

“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.

“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.

“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.

Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.

It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.

The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”

She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.

As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.

It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.

It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.

You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.

Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.

“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.

Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.

“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.

You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.

“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.

“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.

“Can I still come?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.

“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.

“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.

“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”

“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.

You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.

“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”

“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.

“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.

“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”

Divina laughed.

“Enid, help me out here.”

“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.

And by god did you fall just a little more in love.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.

“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”

You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”

You froze. How did she know?

She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.

“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”

Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?

Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.

“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.

Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.

—---

It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.

You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.

Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.

“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.

“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.

“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.

“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”

Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.

And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.

“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.

Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.

“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”

Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.

You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.

Never mind. You knew what to talk about.

“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”

Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”

“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”

“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.

“It-”

-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.

Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.

And this now seemed like a very bad idea.

“Just… things,” you said.

Coward.

“What kind of things?”

He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.

Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-

-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

“You should listen to it.”

“What?” You blurted out.

Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.

Never again would you say therapy was boring.

—---

Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.

They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.

Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?

“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”

Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.

But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.

Without having to worry about you.

Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.

“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.

“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”

And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.

But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.

“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”

“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”

Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.

“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.

“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”

“That you know of,” Devan said.

You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”

The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.

“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.

She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.

“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”

“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”

She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.

“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.

It worked.

“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.

You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”

“-They found a foot in his office.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.

“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”

Wednesday didn’t say anything.

Why was she not saying anything?

“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”

She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.

It was fear.

everyone but her pt.37

Summary: Wednesday knows, without a doubt, that you weren't the suspect everyone thought you were. And your date nights were getting rather interesting, but she's not entirely convinced about this new date idea.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, grief, past trauma, child abuse (in the past) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Don’t even think about it.”

Wednesday sighed and pulled her hand back from the bag you were refusing to let her carry. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because you were being chivalrous. It was the second week after your therapist had gone missing, and you were still upset with her. She didn’t like it.

“I have already apologised,” she said as she walked behind you. “What more do you want from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said in a faux sing-song voice that she had heard you use with Ash before. “Maybe to have my girlfriend not assume I’m stupid enough to kill my therapist?”

“No one has claimed you were stupid,” she said.

“And yet no one has agreed that I wouldn’t kill my therapist,” you finished a little too quickly.

She followed behind you, trying to open the door but you wouldn’t move aside for her. Instead, you turned the doorknob with your elbow after more than a few failed attempts and entered the apartment. At least Wednesday had the opportunity to close the door behind you both.

“No one believes you killed him,” she said as she tried to help you put up groceries. All it took was one look before she stepped back. If you were determined to be so stubborn, then she was determined to let you.

“Oh yeah?” You said; you practically threw the apples into the fruit drawer. “Because Bianca didn’t seem too disbelieving of it.”

“Bianca is ignorant,” she said quickly. “Additionally, she never claimed it was you, simply questioned your whereabouts.”

You threw the milk into the fridge next; Wednesday would need to make sure you didn’t bust the container. “Which I specifically told you before I left the apartment.”

Wednesday wasn’t foolish. Even though she truly felt you were being absurd, she was not foolish enough to continue the argument when you became so agitated. When you placed your hands on your hips and furrowed your brows. She would never claim to be an expert at reading physical cues, but she certainly knew yours. Or at the very least, she knew yours well enough.

“Anger metre?” She asked.

“Immeasurable.” You sighed and looked down at the floor. “An 8.”

Your hands fell from your hips rather pathetically. It was a look Wednesday hadn’t seen since those years at Nevermore. Back when you were a little too nervous to talk to her like you did now. She remembered it vividly; every time you would try to talk back, she would shut you down, and you would stand there awkwardly like a scolded puppy before walking off.

It almost warmed her cold heart to see you hadn’t grown out of it.

“Am I really that untrustworthy?” You asked; your voice was soft. Horrifically so. “Do people really think I would kill someone?”

Wednesday wasn’t prepared for an emotional conversation. She had been attempting to get you to relax about the accusations, but she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could come of it. A foolish thing, she knew; you were becoming more open about your feelings when they upset you so terribly. It was something she had encouraged in you even though she had never truly thought to grow with you in that regard.

There was no better time than the present, she presumed.

“Can we-,” she sighed, blinking twice before looking back at you, “-can we continue this in the living room?”

You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“You’re letting all the cold air out,” she said.

You frowned before your eyes slowly grew larger. It only took a moment before you shut the door to the fridge, stopping the incessant warning beep that came more often than not when you were in the kitchen. She thought back to when it had started; she had lied to you about the electric bill staying steady after you had panicked. Clearly you took bills more seriously than she had previously thought.

After hearing that it was okay, you hadn’t intentionally left the fridge open each time. It was simply how you were; getting distracted, finally free of the constant nagging and worry about the bills. Yes, Wednesday should have known you would be hyper-aware of such a thing, but she hadn’t imagined you would lose your focus that quickly.

“Come on,” you said quietly, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her into the living room.

Your hand was warm in hers. Even after all this time, after so much physical contact with you, your body heat would surprise her. There was no reason, she had grown accustomed to it long ago. Whether it was simply your hand in hers, your hand pressed against the small of her back, or your body curling around hers at night. You were warm, almost painfully warm, and it was sensational.

Wednesday sat on the couch opposite you, turning just enough to face you. On the other side, you crossed your legs on the couch, looking like an overgrown child. Or she supposed it was more reminiscent of a rather large dog not understanding quite how large they were. Behind you, your wings strained against the confines of not only the loosened harness, but the jacket you had yanked on earlier in the day.

“Do you think I would kill someone.” It wasn’t so much a question anymore; any hesitancy in your voice had long faded. “Be honest.”

Yes. Yes, she did believe you would kill someone. She remembered the fear and anger in your eyes back at Nevermore when that rogue werewolf had gone after you and Eugene. If it had gone after Eugene, you would have killed it without a moment’s hesitation. Add on to that the looks she had seen you give others who attempted to harm - whether emotionally or physically - any of your friends? Yes, she believed without question that you would kill someone.

But not, however, without reason.

“No,” Wednesday lied effortlessly.

“So you believe I didn’t do it?” You asked. “There’s no doubt in your mind that I’m innocent?”

“In this instance, yes.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed at her words. There was an unusual relationship surrounding the both of you and your criminal proclivities. While you wouldn’t fault the other for their activities, you were both incredibly willing to tell the other one if they’re guilty. For instance, you had acknowledged her grave digging scandal from last year. Not with shame, but admiration. On the other hand, she would not hesitate to remind you of your underage, international murder scandal.

It was an exceptionally beautiful relationship.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?” You asked, doe eyes looking up at her through your eyelashes. A faux innocence that did wonders for Wednesday’s imagination.

She shifted in her seat and inhaled deeply. “I taught you better than to leave evidence behind.” You snorted with laughter. “Leaving behind an entire foot is an amateur move at best.”

“And here I thought you’d say I was too kind for murder,” you said. 

Wednesday would have been content to allow the conversation to end as it was. As long as you believed she had faith in your innocence, there wasn’t much else to say. Your anger had appeared to dissipate and there was no need to dwell on the topic. After all, as long as she believed you, could you really be all that upset?

But you still didn’t move from your spot. In fact, you didn’t even move to grab the remote, or to put on some sort of noise in the background of the usual apartment noises. You simply sat there, legs crossed, playing with your fingers. Dread welled up in Wednesday’s chest; she knew those mannerisms.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out long enough for Wednesday to feel not only dread, but pure horror. “Wanna hear my new date idea?”

She sat up straighter, eyes moving around the apartment for nothing in particular. Oh. Well, that wasn’t quite what she had been expecting.

You waited for her to nod once. “Remember when I visited Nicky for Christmas?” She nodded again. “Well, I think I remembered something.”

Another pause as you recollected your thoughts.

“He had this notebook,” you held your hands out like you were holding the object, “or I guess it was a journal.” Your hands squeezed into fists. “He wrote everything in it, and I need to go find it.”

“Why would you need a journal?” She asked.

You sighed. “I think he wrote about everything our parents did and I just- I- I need to know.” Your pupils were blown. “I have to know what happened in that house.”

Wednesday still said nothing.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” you said, “and I need to know what happened before I lose my fucking mind.”

The skin on your knuckles paled as you continued to ball your hands into fists. Even as her outward demeanour remained the same, Wednesday felt the effects of her heart rate increasing. She hadn’t needed Enid to explain what panicking was, though this was getting dangerously close to falling off the ledge of “panic” and into the pool of “desperation.”

If it had been anyone but you, she would have felt humiliated as she so-eagerly reached out to place one of her hands on top of yours. Her small, cold hand couldn’t cover your entire fist. Yet that didn’t seem to matter when she felt the tendons in your hand ease up, and you quickly turned it over until you could lock fingers with hers.

She would never admit such a thing aloud, at least not to anyone but you, but her chest warmed when she was the cause for your relief. It wasn’t the same warmth she felt for selfish reasons; it was vastly different from when she beat Bianca at a game of wits. This was more encompassing, more… more.

“How does that relate to your date idea?” Wednesday asked.

You looked up at her through your lashes again, though your smile was far more mischievous than earlier.

“Wednesday Addams,” you said in a tone that sent a shiver down her spine, “would you like to commit a B&E with me this weekend?”

Now that. That was wholly deserving of her own matching smile. You certainly knew the way to an Addams’ cold heart.

—---

It didn’t take long for Wednesday to realise just how long you had been planning this “date,” or at least something similar.

“They’re never home on weekends,” you said when you dropped the both of you into the yard. “They’re always either at the Catskills, or schmoozing their way through the Senate.”

She admired the way your wings tucked against your back. As much as she hated flying, she wouldn’t deny her fascination with the appendages, especially after the fact. Only when they were still could she see the muscle underneath the feathers and skin; muscle that had to be incredibly dense if they could carry you and her without a larger wingspan.

Maybe it was time she strapped you down and studied your musculature again. Clearly you had grown since the last time.

“There’s a risk doing this in broad daylight, is there not?” Wednesday asked when you stopped underneath a window.

You shook your head without looking away from the house. “Everyone in the area is still sleeping off their hangovers.”

“Cameras?”

“Fake.” You finally looked at her, a certain glimmer in your eye that had Wednesday’s stomach twisting into knots. “They always said just the belief someone was being watched was enough of a deterrent.”

“A foolish mistake,” Wednesday mumbled to herself.

“But helpful for us,” you said with a smile. “The window goes to my room,” you said, locking your fingers together to create a makeshift step. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Silent alarms?” She asked as she placed her hands on your shoulders to steady herself. Your muscles shifted underneath your shirt when you started raising her closer to the window.

“Nope,” you said. “They rely on their fake security cameras and Eddy.”

“Who?” Wednesday asked, her hands stilling on the outside lock of the window. She adored you for saving the lock for her to pick.

“Our security guy,” you said. “He’s sweet, but shit at his job.”

The use of the word “our” did not escape Wednesday’s attention as she pulled herself through the now-unlocked window. It wasn’t often that you would lump yourself into the same group as your parents. More often than not, you attempted to distance yourself as much as possible, even going so far as to call them by their first names. Though she supposed, at the end of the day, they were still your parents no matter what they said or did. You loved too deeply to eliminate them completely.

For the sake of easing her curiosity, she slowly made her way around your room even as the gentle flap of your wings could be heard outside the window. The room itself reminded her of her own room back at Nevermore. Almost no personal items, nothing indicative of who you were. The only thing that would indicate anyone had even lived in the room was a singular photo in a frame; a photo of you and Nicky on a sailboat in a time long forgotten.

“Ready?” You asked over the sound of the window sliding shut. “It’s a quick trip down the hall, unless they moved everything to dad’s office.”

There was an air about you as you crossed the room. After Nicky, you had tended to roam, seemingly without any direction. If someone said jump, you would ask how high. But this was different; you looked like you had a mission and there was a clear physical determination in the set of your shoulders and the glint in your eye.

Wednesday reached out to grab your arm. Your muscles were taut, but quickly relaxed when you looked down at her. She hadn’t forgotten what you were both there to do; she was more than aware of the desperation you kept hidden behind a cocky smile.

It did nothing to ease the growing affection she had for you in that moment. Breaking and entering was a good look for you.

All it took was one firm tug on your arm to pull you down to face level. She simply had to lean forward slightly to kiss you. You were always like putty in her hands when she kissed you. In those moments, she swore you would have done anything she asked, no consideration required. It gave her a sense of control that you so often inadvertently took away.

When she pulled away - though, surprisingly, hesitantly - your eyes fluttered before opening fully. Her amazement at your reaction to her never eased over the days. Back at Nevermore, she had fully believed her body would become accustomed to how you reacted; she had never been so grateful to be wrong.

“If only my parents knew I just kissed a woman in their house,” you said softly, your words tumbling from your lips faster than normal. “They would die from shock.”

Wednesday ignored the flutter of her heart. “Lead the way so we can go home.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a tip of your invisible hat.

You manoeuvred your arm until you could hold her hand, pulling her after you on the way out of your room. Not the best way to stay inconspicuous, but Wednesday had become rather fond of the way her hand felt in yours, so she wouldn’t dare pull away.

The both of you peeked around the doorframe, looking both ways before exiting your room. The house was far too pristine for Wednesday’s liking. How could a family reside in a house with so little belongings? Where was the tapestry of history hanging from the walls? The artefacts that belonged to generations past to symbolise where you came from? Instead they were bare walls, minimalist in a way that even she found tasteless.

It only took a few steps down the hall before you attempted to open the door. The doorknob jiggled, but wouldn’t turn. With a sigh, you pulled Wednesday closer until she had full access to the lock. She was more than aware that you knew how to pick a lock; you had practiced it for weeks after she had mentioned it. But she appreciated your allowing her to have all the fun.

The lock was child’s play; your parents may have been intelligent, but they didn’t appear to take security very seriously. You pulled her with you into the room before turning and closing the door quietly, the click of the lock almost inaudible. She felt the cold air hit her palm as you pulled your hand away.

“Look for a journal,” you said. “A leather one with a black string tied around it.”

You didn’t wait for her to acknowledge your statement before digging around the room. And as much as Wednesday wanted to help, she couldn’t help but watch you. There was a gentleness to your rushed movements, almost as if you were worried you would break something. She knew you still grieved for Nicky even if you didn’t outwardly show it. His items were sacred to you in a way few things were.

“You okay?” You asked, and Wednesday was faced with the humiliation of getting caught staring.

“Of course,” she said, doing her best to sound as uninterested as possible. Unfortunately for her, you had broken her emotionless facade years ago.

Unlike your room, Nicky’s held some semblance of life. Select baseball cards were put in small plastic cases and propped up on the dresser. Under his bed was shoebox after shoebox, filled to the brim with comics, toy cars, marbles, and a menagerie of random Lego pieces. Toys that had been absent from your room.

“I can’t find it,” you said once you finished looking through every inch of the closet. “Just his stupid, stuffy clothes.”

Wednesday was kind enough to ignore the jacket you quickly tied around your waist.

“You mentioned it might be in your father’s office,” she said.

You sighed. “I guess I always did want to see what he hid in there.”

You didn’t grab her hand before leaving the room; she was thankful you couldn’t see her frown at the realisation. But she was quick to follow, closing the door as softly as you had. The new wooden flooring was a blessing, being far too new to make a sound when you snuck down the hall.

The hall opened up to a balcony overlooking the foyer. A large grandfather clock was almost directly below, tick tick ticking away; Wednesday couldn’t imagine hearing the sound every single hour of your life. The marble flooring was beautiful with its golden veins, though it was far from her sense of style. It all looked beyond pristine.

How had you ever managed to live in such a sterile environment?

“Come on,” you whispered, grabbing Wednesday’s hand to pull her away from her staring. “I want to get out of here.”

Your grip on her hand was a little too tight for comfort. You would never hurt her, she knew that, but it was certainly pushing the boundary. She tried to squeeze your hand, only barely managing to do so, but your grip lightened almost instantly.

As hard as she tried, there would be no way for Wednesday to know how you felt about being back in the house. You hadn’t let her know much about what had happened before and after the funeral, but she had seen the damage. The weight loss, the jittery movements, the avoidance. She would admit, she couldn’t recall a time where she had felt so uncomfortable in a location.

It was an unusual feeling, wondering how someone else would feel in a certain situation. It settled deep in her stomach, leaving behind a feeling of… emptiness. Was that how you felt, being in your childhood home once again? Knowing that there were no good memories, only sorrow and grief and a void that you could never fill?

“Y/N?”

You froze, standing up as straight as possible. Wednesday often forgot how tall you were; you took to slouching more often than not. She attempted to see who had called your name, but you quickly stepped in front of her, hiding her from sight.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” you said softly. Your tone was gentle, almost similar to how you talked with your mother. “I promise.”

“Is that her?”

You squeezed her hand. There was a moment where the air was so thick, Wednesday truly thought she would drown in it. Yet another feeling that she was rather unfamiliar with. It only got worse as you stepped aside, turning your body sideways to keep a strategic position between her and this new guest in front of you.

The woman looked homely. She looked older than Wednesday’s own mother, though not as old as Grandmama Addams; the wrinkles on her brown skin gave it away. Even as she dried her hands on the hand towel in her pocket, Wednesday could tell they were well worn from years of use. And yet she still looked at you with a kindness that Wednesday knew you had never gotten from your own mother.

“Mabel,” you said softly, “this is Wednesday.”

Mabel smiled. “You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

The statement left an uncomfortable weight in Wednesday’s chest that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t believe it was because of the statement itself, it was simple enough. No, it could potentially be from the implication? Perhaps it came from knowing that you had talked about her to someone from your past. The same past that she was blind to, that you actively hid from her.

Someone from your past knew about her and it was… frightening.

“We just need in the office,” you said, “and then we’ll be gone.”

Mabel said nothing. She simply stood to the side of the hall, leaving plenty of space for you to pull Wednesday along. There was a moment where Wednesday met her warm brown eyes; they were filled with a look of motherly care. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t touch anything,” you said when you closed the office door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Wednesday didn’t think she could have searched for anything even if you had asked her to. She couldn’t get Mabel’s eyes out of her mind. There was a horrifying amount of tenderness when she looked at you. Your head had been turned too far, but she could imagine the same sentiment had been in your own eyes.

What a world you had lived in. To grow up receiving care not from your actual parents, but from your brother and the family maid. Now, Wednesday was not overly fond of how her own parents showed their affection; they were too forward and extravagant. That did not, however, change the fact that they loved their children with their entire beings.

She walked forward while you were still digging around. You weren’t touching things, just ghosting your fingers over the spines of books, the shelves, hesitating before pulling open the metal filing cabinets. There was the smallest tell in your actions; your hands shook not with anger, but with fear.

Her feet stopped her in front of a small set of shelves covered in awards and framed newspaper clippings. Your father’s winning cases littered the wall, each seeming to receive a more extravagant frame than the last. But right in the middle of all of them was a singular picture frame, a misfit amongst the glory with its chipped black paint.

It was a family picture of all four of you. The lot was bundled up in winter clothes. Your father held skis in his right hand, and a young you in his left. Nicky stood between your parents, and your mother was looking regal as always. A snow capped mountain made for beautiful background scenery, but that wasn’t what Wednesday was focused on.

You were all smiling.

Your voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, telling her not to touch anything. But who was Wednesday to deny her own curiosity? Curiosity sparked new thoughts, new revelations, and she was never one to deny herself such satisfaction. Besides, you were far too busy with your own search, how would you know if she simply picked up the picture to get a closer look-

-her brain didn’t even have time to process the shock before she felt the chill of winter whipping around her. She couldn’t orient herself properly, but she recognised the snowy mountain in front of her. The peal of laughter brought her spinning head to a halt; it was higher pitched, but she would recognise it anywhere.

You were waddling across the snow after Nicky, hands outstretched in front of you. The look on your face was so genuine, so pure, Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure she had ever seen it on your face in all of her own years of knowing you. It was almost a peaceful aura about you, as if nothing had troubled your young mind just yet. Perhaps it hadn’t.

A little further behind the both of you, your parents stood together, smiling down at you. It was different from the polite, professional smiles she had seen on their faces before. These reached their eyes. If she let her mind stretch reality for a moment, she could almost see… love in those smiles.

“Come on, you two,” your mother said in her slightly accented voice. “Let’s get inside before it gets late.”

“Coming!” Nicky called, letting you chase him as you both ran through the snow that was starting to pile higher on the ground.

Wednesday followed along behind the four of you, keeping her distance for better observation. Nicky was quick to get beside your mother, while you stayed beside your father. His hand grabbed yours gently, dwarfing your entire body beside him. The look on his face would have been precious if she hadn’t known how he ended up treating you.

She stayed outside of the small cabin when you all went inside. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would indicate the small fortune that you came from. Simply a secluded cabin on what appeared to be a secluded mountainside. Wednesday could appreciate the small structure even as she stood by the window, peering in.

There was a small fire on the far wall, and Nicky was quick to shed his winter clothes to sit in front of it. Your father stayed behind, helping you out of the clothes that probably weighed more than you did. It amazed Wednesday how someone so small could turn into the absolute giant that you were in the present. 

Your father’s hands were so gentle on your skin. If she didn’t know any better, it would have looked like love. Maybe it was. Perhaps it used to be. Surely there had been a time, much like this, where you had been loved so unconditionally that it reflected off your smile. He was so careful with you, helping you with each layer of clothing as if one wrong move would break you. You were cherished, you were loved, you were cared for.

He helped you take off the last remaining layer aside from your shirt. It stuck to the small coat, pulling up until it caught on your head, and Wednesday felt that uncomfortably familiar weight settle in her chest. Your back, untouched by the traumas of the future, was bare. No wings, no indication of anything that would signify you were anything other than a Normie.

Your parents loved you because you were “normal.”

“Wends?”

The chill of the mountain air disappeared, too quickly replaced by the warmth of your home. It was a painful switch, leaving her fingers tingling and burning at the same time. She pulled her hand back to her side, being careful not to move the picture frame. You were sitting at the desk in the middle of the room, your brows furrowed. The crinkle between your eyes was more prominent than usual.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

She nodded once, hesitantly.

“I can’t find it,” you said with a sigh. “We should head out before it gets too late.”

You didn’t move from the desk, just kept looking at her. And all the while, Wednesday couldn’t ignore the way her heart started to race. Sitting at that desk, with your back ramrod straight and arms resting on the mahogany wood, you looked like someone who belonged there. A completely different person than the one she had unceremoniously fallen for time and time again.

You looked just like your father.

She would never say it aloud.

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.

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]

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.

everyone but her pt.40

Summary: Wednesday is on the hunt for whoever - or whatever - is attacking everyone. She just needs to make sure you both don't get in over your heads.

Word Count: 5.4k Warnings: swearing, mentions of attacks, descriptions of a dead body (nothing graphic) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

As summer approached, Wednesday was no closer to finding the culprit that had attacked Ash and Joel. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course, that much was certain. With your assistance, she had combed the woods near the attack, had talked with Ash and Joel, and had even done some digging into the past attacks since the group had started school.

Her investigation board was packed, every inch covered in research and police reports. It didn’t even include her own notes, which were in a folder on the side table. Or it should have been; it was currently residing on the table beside your side of the bed. She supposed it was nice to know you were interested in her research.

She just wished you would be interested without displacing her things.

Though she supposed she shouldn’t complain; any time you spent at the apartment was positive. After the events of the attack, you had made sure to keep both Ash and Joel within sight. It wasn’t your usual “Let’s hang out” attitude, but the one she recognised when you first got released from prison.

The nights, she realised, were the most difficult for you. Something about it reminded Wednesday of the days immediately following Mack’s death. Those nights where you wandered around, either too afraid or too wired to sleep. Sometimes you would end up staying in bed, keeping you both awake with your incessant moving, or your wings keeping her so warm she felt she might combust.

But at least she could keep an eye on you far easier.

Wednesday’s feet were suspiciously cold when she awoke. After so many years of you sleeping by her side, her feet had grown warm during the nights. You didn’t run quite as hot as Enid, but your temperature was nothing to scoff at. She had hated it at first; you were ruining her attempt at being as close to dead as possible. But she had grown used to it, and now it was uncomfortable.

She let her eyes adjust to the dark before moving. The sounds of your light snoring, or your wings twitching were absent in the empty room. Silence, much like her cold feet, was something she now found no pleasure in. For what was a room without your presence? Even just the sounds of your breathing was enough security to continue to face the days head on. Your presence was no longer simply a gift, it was a requirement in her life.

And you were no longer sharing the space with her.

She knew where you were; Wednesday always knew where you were. You had the ability to be silent, but you were not, on your own, silent. Whether it was the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, or the almost-inaudible program you had put on the television. There was never a time, in your shared apartment, that Wednesday was unaware of where you were.

So she wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear the television on and the soft drip-drip-drip of the coffee maker when she stepped out of the bedroom. Instinct had her looking at the couch, where she would more often than not find you unconscious in the most inhuman, uncomfortable position she had ever seen. When you weren’t there, she turned to the table.

That was where she found you. Sitting at the table with a coffee mug and the laptop in front of you. The back of the laptop was facing the hallway she was standing in. Your face was illuminated by the blinding glow of the screen. Even in the dark she could see the bags under your eyes and your slumped shoulders.

There were two ways Wednesday could get you back into bed. The first, which was only occasionally her favourite, was to entice you. Sometimes all it would take was a well placed kiss, right behind your ear or between your wings. One singular kiss and, if you were both consenting, you would carry her back to bed within an instant.

At that moment, Wednesday would have been okay with it. She would have revelled in it, actually. To feel you above her, your callused hands feeling impossibly soft on her skin. The feel of your lips on her neck, even just in imagination, was enough to have her shifting her weight between her feet. 

Your head fell slowly before you jerked it back up and blinked rapidly. No, it wouldn’t take a well placed kiss to get you back in bed, not at that moment. Which left Wednesday with her second option and, quite frankly, her favourite. She made sure to emphasise each step as she walked toward you. You slow blinked once, but otherwise didn’t move.

By the time she finally approached you, you had leaned back in your chair. With the ease of a veteran, she sat in your lap. Her legs hung over your thighs and she could rest her head in the crook of your neck. You smelled of coffee and the slightest hint of whiskey.

Wednesday knew you didn’t drink, not really. Especially not after the frat party. You would, however, try on occasion. It occurred most often when you were worried. There was a singular bottle of whiskey in the top cupboard; you would usually pour it into your coffee on nights like tonight. She had never worried about it because you never went beyond a single, half-hearted attempt before you replaced it with your regular coffee.

On your laptop, there were numerous tabs open. She couldn’t read every title, but the page you were on was enough; some obscure website about the different Outcasts. There was a good deal of information just on that one page alone, and Wednesday could practically feel the mental strain coming off you. You weren’t unintelligent by any means, but you had never denied your distaste in lengthy readings.

“I don’t think it’s a shapeshifter,” you said in a raspy voice as your arms wrapped around Wednesday’s waist.

“It would explain the resemblance to Bianca,” Wednesday replied. Not argumentative; she never felt the need to defend her beliefs with you.

“I talked with Ash and Joel the other day,” you said. “They said they never saw anyone, just heard voices.”

“Joel said he didn’t remember anything.” She shifted on your lap so she could look at you. “He simply woke up in the hospital.”

“He lied,” you said with a shake of your head. “He told Ajax he heard you asking him to help you with something.”

Wednesday remained silent. She could feel you tensed up beneath her, your arms squeezing around her just a little too tight for comfort. It wasn’t painful by any means, simply more secure. There was no need to question the change.

“Sirens can mimic voices,” you continued as if nothing was wrong. “I don’t think it’s all of them, but some of them can.”

“You believe a siren is at fault,” Wednesday said.

“Doesn’t explain the wounds themselves,” you sighed, “but yeah.”

One of your arms lifted and you placed it on the table. You flipped through the tabs on the screen until you landed on a different page, this one looking far more like a - what had Kent called it - a forum. She didn’t try to read through everything seeing as you scrolled too quickly, but you stopped on one of the replies.

“This person is from Latvia,” you said as you pointed at the reply with your finger. “It’s a rough translation, but they said they’ve seen sirens and fairies team up a lot.”

“Fairies,” Wednesday deadpanned. “You believe a fairy attempted to kill our friends.”

You gave her a tired smile. “You said our friends.”

“Focus,” she commanded. Thankfully, you couldn’t see the light flush on her cheeks.

“I think it’s a possibility,” you said, looking back at the laptop screen. “I’ve gotta do some more research though.”

You didn’t make any sort of move to close the laptop. In fact, you continued to scroll, looking through more posts. Wednesday hadn’t thought you meant more research at that moment. There was nothing healthy about it. Even just the shake of your fingers was enough to confirm her belief.

She lifted her hand to cup your jaw, gently turning you to face her. As usual, you didn’t dare put up any resistance. You were nothing if not compliant to her every wish. Sometimes she found it incredibly attractive how pliable you were for her. Following her every command with an eagerness that was often found when you were seeking praise.

Other times, like that moment, made her sad. You followed without question not out of an eagerness to please, but an acceptance of authority. It was the way you had been when your parents still had some form of control over you; when Nicky was still alive, even if it was in the loosest sense of the word.

“No more research tonight,” she said. It was an unusual thing to come out of her mouth; she was usually the one staying up late to do some more research.

“I have to figure it out,” you said softly.

“Not tonight,” she replied just as softly, though no less stern. You could be upset, but she wouldn’t dare let you throw yourself into an endless pit of despair. That was her job.

You didn’t utter a sound as Wednesday slid off your lap and stood up. Her fingers locked with yours and, with the gentlest of tugs, pulled you out of the chair. The trust you put in her was unparallelled. You didn’t even question her closing your laptop, or pulling you back to the bedroom.

There was also no argument as she pushed you back onto the bed. Wednesday made sure she was gentle; she didn’t want you to crush your wings or bend something into an unnatural position. Only she could bend you unnaturally. You positioned yourself to be laying on your side, as usual, which left just enough space for Wednesday to crawl into bed in front of you.

It was instinctual after that much time for your arm to wrap around her waist and pull her closer. When she slept on her own - which so rarely happened - she still slept as she used to; on her back with arms crossed over her chest. But with you? There was an unexpected comfort in being enveloped in you. Your scent, your warmth, your touch, it was all so… horrifically wonderful.

Neither one of you said another word. She felt your lips press against the back of her neck before you fully sank into the bed. There was no joy in having to find more and more creative ways to get you to take care of yourself, but she would do them without hesitation. And if she slept better with you beside her, that had nothing to do with your health. It was simply a bonus.

—---

“Tell me again why we’re out here?” You asked from behind Wednesday.

“Because,” she said without turning around, “I need to read the autopsy reports.”

“That’s so weird,” you mumbled to yourself even though she could still hear it.

Wednesday smiled internally to herself. As weird as you supposedly thought it was, you were still following her down the dark street to the police station. After hearing your theories thoroughly the morning after that night, she had started to dig deeper. You were a surprisingly thorough researcher when it was something you were passionate about. It was far more attractive than she would have anticipated.

Though all of the joint research was moot when she realised she had no idea how the two fraternity brothers had died. Yes, the police had said a werewolf had killed them, but it wouldn’t have been the first time the police had lied. You yourself were proof of how far they would go to put someone specific behind bars. She wanted to see the reports for herself.

And the only way to do that was to get them directly from the police station.

Much to Wednesday’s pleasure, you hadn’t argued when she had first brought up the idea. Although she hadn’t expected much opposition from you, she felt you would voice a concern or two. She should have known better. You were nothing if not an eager accomplice.

However, it did not guarantee you wouldn’t find something to complain about.

“You won’t let them take me to jail again, right?” You asked, thankfully quiet enough for no listening ears to hear.

“Cara mia,” she said with a smile you couldn’t see, “you look stunning behind bars, but I prefer you with me.”

Behind her, you chuckled. “Save the dirty talk for the bedroom, dear.”

Thanks to walking around in the dead of night, the usual crowd was long gone. There was something comforting about an empty street in a town full of life. Eerily ethereal to hear the silence, backed only by the creaking signs or the wind blowing between the buildings. Your footsteps were light, and she could barely hear the ruffle of your feathers.

It almost made Wednesday laugh to herself at your ability to be silent when you really wished to. In the day to day, you were loud and a bit clumsy. Not that she still had an issue with it. If anything, she almost preferred it seeing as it was easy to keep track of you. It was simply humorous how quickly and efficiently you could turn it off and on.

“Did you want me to go in?” You asked when the police station appeared. “I can cause a distraction in the lobby while you go around back.”

“They know you,” she said with a shake of her head. “It would simply tip them off.”

“Well that’s no fun,” you mumbled.

You reminded Wednesday of the old days. She had thought it on a few occasions recently, this certainly not being the first. It was an oddity now for you to be more carefree and make jokes about everything. An oddity that she wished wasn’t reality. She may never admit it aloud, but she found a spark of joy in your lightheartedness of all situations.

As you both passed the police station to go to the back where it was pitch black, she could feel the energy radiating off of you. She believed it was similar to how the athletes you watched felt before a game. Even though she didn’t turn around to confirm, she could hear your feet hitting the ground a little harder than your usual walking.

Wednesday turned around to face you once you both approached the proper location. You had both scoped it out on numerous occasions the past few days. There was a singular spot to the left of the station, right underneath a window, that was outside of every camera. All they had to do was stick to the side of the building to stay out of view until they reached the blind spot.

She didn’t hide her miniscule smile from you when she saw you jumping on your toes and shaking your hands. You very much looked like the athletes you watched, with the exception of circumstance. It was endearing to see how excited you were to break the law with her. She truly couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

Both for life and in crime.

“I’ll hoist you up,” you said as you walked over to the wall underneath the window. “You’re sneakier.”

She nodded. “Whistle if someone comes near.”

“You got it, pretty girl,” you said with a crooked smile.

It was as if something had taken over her body. Before she stepped onto your thigh, she leaned forward and kissed you. She heard you inhale sharply before leaning forward into the kiss. When she pulled away, she could still taste your lips. Too sweet coffee with a hint of the marijuana you still sporadically smoked with Kent and Ajax.

“Hurry up already,” you said as you shifted into a better position. “I want another kiss like that when we get home.”

Wednesday simply gave you a small smirk before finally stepping up onto your thigh. Thanks to you being so much taller than her, it was almost effortless to reach the window. Much to her pleasure - though not surprise - the window wasn’t locked. Perhaps they believed it was high enough off the ground to be safe. How foolish.

The only downside to the window being so high off the ground was dropping into the room. It was the filing room, and the poorly carpeted floor muffled her drop. She took just a moment to dust the invisible filth off her clothes before properly looking around and getting to work.

To no one’s surprise, it wasn’t Wednesday’s first time searching for files in a police station. She knew her way around the unsystematic filing cabinets that called the room their home. It would be a waste of time to look alphabetically; she would just have to get started on the most worn looking drawer.

Which just so happened to be the one directly to her right.

Wednesday pulled out the small flashlight you had gifted her only a few weeks ago. It was small enough to remain unnoticed, yet held a bright enough light to assist in her late-night excursions. The filing cabinet creaked when she pulled on it, but otherwise slid open smoothly. She waited a moment to make sure no one had heard before she started to dig.

If she hadn’t been so focused on her mission, she would have paid attention to everything she came across. There was no question in her mind that she would find something good, something she could dig deeper into. But she was on a sole mission to find more information on those attacks, and that’s what she was going to do.

Or so she thought, until she found a file with your name on it.

A part of her mind told her not to touch it, to leave it where it rested. There was nothing in it that she wasn’t already aware of. You had told her everything, even if it was a time after the event. Nothing was hidden between the both of you, and she would have betrayed your trust if she looked through the file.

On the other hand, she couldn’t deny her curiosity about what the police were saying about you. Wednesday wasn’t ignorant of the tactics the police used to get what they wanted. Surely they would be aware of your past seeing as it was public record. Had they found a way to spin it in their favour yet?

Against her better judgement, she reached out and took your file. It was far thicker than she had anticipated; full of loose papers and sticky notes. Her fingers flipped through page after page until she finally opened it, looking down at the handwritten notes unceremoniously taped to the page.

Her heart stopped beating when she read the one on the top left.

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

A whistle from outside the window made Wednesday jump and nearly drop your file. She looked around quickly to confirm no one was around before shoving the file back into the cabinet and closing it. It was stupid to look through your file, she thought as she started climbing out of the window. She should have been looking for the thing she had gone in there for.

She could think about your file later.

“What on earth do you two think you’re doing?”

Wednesday’s feet had barely hit the ground before she heard the familiar voice. It wasn’t even a shock when she turned around and saw Weems standing in front of you, her hands on her hips. For a moment, Wednesday felt like she was back in Weems’ office at Nevermore getting scolded for leaving the grounds on a full moon.

Oh, those were wonderful days.

“I finally leave my office for the night and see you two sneaking around the police station,” Weems said. “What do you believe you’re doing?”

“Some light reading,” you said with a shrug that failed to hide your fear. “The library is closed.”

“I didn’t ask for an excuse,” Weems said harshly. No one missed your slight recoil. “What are you doing?”

“Attempting to find more clues on who has been attacking people lately,” Wednesday said.

“And you believed breaking into a police station was the wisest decision?” Weems asked.

“It’s more than the police are doing,” you said, standing taller than before. Wednesday almost swore you were a little taller than Weems now. “They don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

“It is not your responsibility to find the attackers,” Weems said. “That is solely the responsibility of the police.”

“Then make them fucking do it,” you said quickly. “All they ever seem to do nowadays is question me for shit that I didn’t do.”

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

“Perhaps if you stopped putting yourself in dangerous situations, they wouldn’t be questioning you,” she said harshly.

Wednesday looked over at you. There was a hardness to your features that she couldn’t quite place. She knew Weems wasn’t entirely incorrect in her statement. A lot of the situations were coincidence, of course, but even Wednesday couldn’t deny you somehow always found yourself at the centre of things. It was an unusual change of pace, seeing how it was normally her who was in the centre of trouble.

“You must be more careful,” Weems said in a far softer tone. “The both of you.” She looked at Wednesday for a moment before looking back at you. “What would Nicky think of this recklessness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you said as you adopted the harshness Weems had dropped. “He’s dead.”

Weems looked at you with eyes that only a mother could have. It was easy to forget how much she loved you. There hadn’t been many talks between Wednesday and Weems, not when they involved you, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see it. Only a mother could look at you the way Weems was; Wednesday wondered if you could see it too.

“He would be very disappointed in you,” Weems said in a small voice.

Your shoulders tensed at the words. Wednesday could only imagine what was going through your head. She wanted to reach out and comfort you. Take your hand in hers and remind you that you weren’t alone. She didn’t know if Nicky would have been disappointed in you or not, but Weems would. And if she dared to voice that belief, it must have been genuine.

You shook your head slowly. “He can get in line.”

Wednesday and Weems watched as you walked off, back to the sidewalk and, supposedly, starting the walk back to the apartment. She wanted to follow you and confirm you were alright. Well, alright, she was no professional with emotions but even she could tell you weren’t alright. At least she could make sure you were safe.

“She’s bound to get herself killed at this rate,” Weems said quietly with a shake of her head. “And I don’t know how to help.”

Wednesday stayed silent. Not out of the stubbornness she so often fell into, but out of not having a single thing to say. As much as Wednesday hated agreeing with Weems - out of principle - she did. She wasn’t quite convinced you would get yourself killed, but you would certainly get yourself hurt. Or in trouble. Or possibly both.

“Please look after her,” Weems said, and Wednesday finally looked her in the eye. “She loves and respects you enough to let you.”

Wednesday didn’t know what to say to that. She opted instead to nod in agreement. It seemed to be enough for Weems, who reached out to place a hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. Part of Wednesday wished she would pull her into a hug. The thought quickly disappeared when it caught up with her that she did not like hugs.

You were turning her soft.

Weems bid her a goodnight as they both headed in opposite directions. Thankfully, Wednesday caught up with you at the apartment. However, what should have been the end of the night was turning into something else. Instead of your usual pouting and hiding in the room, you were rummaging around the apartment.

“What are you looking for?” She asked when you slammed the closet door shut.

“Your shovel,” you said. “It’s not in the closet anymore.”

She walked over to the bed and knelt down. The wooden floor was rough on her knees, but she quickly grabbed the shovel from underneath the bed and stood back up. Her skin pulled tight before relaxing again, and the ache around her knees quickly subsided. Only once it had eased did she hold the shovel out to you.

“Why do you need it?” She asked as you grabbed it and shoved it into your duffle bag.

Which also held a crowbar and what looked to be two flashlights.

“You remember our first date?” You asked as you stood up straight.

She thought back to all those years ago. “Yes,” she said slowly, “you took me gravedigging.” It had single handedly been the most amazing date she had ever been on. She would never forget it, in life or death.

“We’re recreating it,” you said with a closed mouth smile.

You hoisted the bag over your shoulder and grabbed her hand with yours. She didn’t have any time to protest or question you further before you started pulling her out of the apartment. A small part of her mind told her to convince you to go back inside and sleep off your emotions.

The much larger part was ecstatic to go gravedigging once again.

The streets were still empty as you made your way through town. Wednesday took note of how much more careful you were being; staying away from the street lights and cutting through alleys when necessary. It was admirable how you were sticking to the dark even when she knew you had the slightest fear of it.

“Here,” you said when you pulled her to the open, ungated graveyard. “Should only need one of them.”

You set the duffle bag on the ground and opened it, quickly pulling out the travel shovel you had also gotten her in the past. Now that Wednesday thought about it, you seemed to get her a lot of suspicious looking items. They were all things that she adored, but most would find it suspicious.

She loved that you always knew what she would want.

“Are you sure I can have the honours?” She asked as she placed the tip of the shovel into the dirt.

“It’s all yours, darling,” you said with a full smile that showed off the slight glint of your slightly larger than normal canines.

For the third time that night alone, Wednesday didn’t bother hiding her own small smile. You certainly knew how to woo an Addams. She didn’t even hesitate before pushing the shovel into the dirt and got to work excavating.

You kept a look out for any potential passersby. If you felt someone was near, you placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still; only once the potential threat was gone did you let go and allow her to continue. Luckily for you both, she was a professional. She made quick work of the grave before hitting the top of the casket.

“Here,” you said as you squatted down and handed her the crowbar. “Make it fast, the keeper might come to work soon.”

Wednesday took the tool from you and shoved it into the thin crack of the casket. It only took a slight amount of effort before popping open, and you craned your neck to peer in. The smell was immediate, but it was such a lovely scent. Behind her, you did your best to hide your cough, and out of respect she ignored it.

“That’s nasty,” you mumbled even as you continued to look. “Check out the wounds.”

The body itself was already decomposing. It would be more difficult to tell the differences between wounds, but when you handed Wednesday a camera, she knew your intent. The first flash was enough to startle the both of you, and you looked around frantically to ensure no one had noticed. Only once you were certain did you nod for her to continue.

Wednesday took more photos, making sure to document every injury she could see. She moved clothing aside and took photos to be certain she covered every inch of skin possible. If she wanted to find the culprit, she would need solid evidence. Once she was completely sure she was finished, she closed the casket back up. You held your hand out for her to grab and pulled her out with ease.

She loved to see your strength in action.

“Let’s cover him back up,” you said as you started using your hands to push the dirt back into the grave. “I’m not getting arrested for grave robbing.”

It only took a few moments of frantic shovelling to fill the grave once again. Once full, you shoved everything back into the duffle bag and grabbed Wednesday’s hand, pulling her into a light jog back to the apartment. It was just early enough in the morning that a few building lights were starting to turn on as their occupants got ready for work.

“I’ll print them off,” you said the moment you shut the door to the apartment behind you. “Give me just a moment.”

Wednesday knew your determination wasn’t coming from a sense of wanting to know who the culprit was. She wasn’t in the place to have you explain. At the moment, you were keeping yourself busy, and she would allow it. Now that you were both back in the apartment, she couldn’t complain too much. At least you were safe.

While you were working on printing off the photos for her board, she sat on the couch and finally, finally started to consider what she had seen at the police station. That handwritten note had been bouncing around her head all night, and she wasn’t sure what to think of it.

You had been devastated about Mack’s death. If she was to compare, you were almost as devastated as Nicky’s death. Something about it had shaken you up to your core, and it had taken you months to sort out your grief. How could they possibly believe you were involved?

“Got it,” you said, pulling Wednesday from her thoughts.

She stood up and walked over to the table as you laid the photos out. Some were blurry and unusable, but most were of decent enough quality that you could see the individual injuries. The lacerations covered the torso and face, and they very much looked like claw marks.

To the untrained eye, at least.

When Wednesday looked closer, she noticed a few discrepancies. There were only three lacerations in each spot; from what she had seen on Enid’s wolf out, a werewolf paw would cause four lacerations. Then the depth varied from each injury, leaving not even an ounce of uniformity.

“What?” You asked when Wednesday stood up and sighed.

“You’re right,” she said, “it’s not a werewolf.”

“Was I right about the fairy shit?” You asked. “Because if so that’s cool as hell, it was a longshot.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t believe it’s a fairy.”

You looked disappointed even though you had already admitted you knew it was unlikely.

“What is it?” You asked again, leaning back over the pictures to attempt to see what she had.

“I believe they came from a knife,” Wednesday said.

You stood up slowly and looked down at her.

“The police said it was a werewolf,” you said.

The muscles in your jaw tensed as you looked back down at the photos. It seemed the police had lied to the entirety of the town. Which meant they had surely lied about other things in the process.

Which meant it was just you and Wednesday against the police.

This was going to be fun.

when you love it

Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”

Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.

His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.

The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.

It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.

“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.

His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”

You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”

The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.

If he called again, your rates would double.

“You did your job masterfully.”

You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.

Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.

“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.

“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A wet gasp-

-a snarl-

-relief-

-pain-

“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”

“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.

A breathy moan-

-airy laughter-

-a warm sigh-

“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”

“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”

You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.

There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.

Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.

Just like his older sister.

“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.

“A coffee then,” you amended.

He had no objections.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.

“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.

You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.

His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.

“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.

“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”

“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.

Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”

You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.

So were you.

You promptly ignored the thought.

“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.

“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”

“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”

“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”

You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.

It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.

And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.

The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.

You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.

There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.

On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.

Perhaps…

“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.

Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.

“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”

—---

You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.

It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.

And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.

The balcony door slid open.

“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.

It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.

“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”

You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.

The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.

You were pathetic.

You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.

If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.

They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.

It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.

You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.

Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.

It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.

You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.

While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.

The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.

After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.

Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.

You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.

Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.

“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.

“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”

“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.

If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.

“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”

Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.

“Are you a vampire?”

You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.

“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”

“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”

You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”

Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.

“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.

You wished they would leave.

“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”

You would have no shame in killing a child.

“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”

“Don’t harass the guests, dear.” 

Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.

But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.

“We weren’t sure you would come.”

You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.

“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.

Growls and screaming echoed in your mind’s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.

The scars you had caused.

“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.

She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.

“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”

“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”

You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”

She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.

“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”

“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”

Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”

Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?

Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.

You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.

“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”

The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.

But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.

Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.

“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”

Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”

Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.

Wednesday!

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.

“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.

For the first time, you were thankful for children.

“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”

The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.

“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.

Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.

“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.

It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.

“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.

It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.

“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”

You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.

“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”

“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.

She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.

“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”

And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.

“You could stay,” Enid said.

“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.

You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.

They were your home.

“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.

You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.

The scars reminded you of it every day.

“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.

Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.

When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.

How comical.

They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.

You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.

“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”

Think of something less ridiculous.

“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.

“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.

“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”

“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.

You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.

“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”

You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.

And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.

Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.

“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.

“You’re fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.

You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.

But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.

Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-

-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.

You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.

Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.

You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.

That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.

As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.

So did the pain.

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.

It was lovely.

“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.

You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.

They looked at you expectantly.

For when is a monster not a monster?

You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.

Oh, when you love it.