Wednesday X Reader - Tumblr Posts

“ I WOULD APPRECIATE IT…IF YOU’D STAY WITH ME “

Summary: After a Friday night studying you and Wednesday decided to sleep together. When it’s 8:00 AM and you have to get ready to meet up with your friends, Wednesday decides she wants you to lay down with her for a bit longer. Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader. Warning: None. Genre: Fluff | One shot | pretty short | !!!

A/N : A master list and introduction list is coming soon btw!!

Oh my god last night was just a big pain in the ass, all those classes all those hours of end less studying and for what? Just for us to probably spend the rest of our lives rotting in prison for murder? This is pointless but to stay in nevermore academy having good grades Is a must especially to Wednesday. She values intelligence, little too much someone would say, But even Wednesday was a bit stressed out. What’s more better than peacefully sleeping with your girlfriend with no trouble on the world.

Shit shit shit. It’s 8:15 I’m supposed to be at the cafe by 8:35! I slowly move Wednesdays hand from mine and get up and quickly head to the bathroom. Of course Wednesday is a light sleeper and she sensed you got up, her eyes shot open and quickly got up at the sight of you not being next to her she looks around and sees the bathroom light on she somewhat relaxes knowing you are still here but she wonders why you are out of bed so early. Usually Wednesday wakes up around 6:15 but when she is cuddling or sleeping next to you she can’t help but relax in your arms and sleep much longer than she usually does. I finished brushing my teeth,hair and doing my skin care I just need to put on my clothes and some makeup products in my bag I’ll do my makeup in the car or something, I open the door and see Wednesday staring at me, at the sudden person awake I do freak out at first glance.

“ JESUS..my god you scared the shit out of me at least give me a warning damn “ “ You know that use of vocabulary was unnecessary, and at first you startled me when you weren’t next to me..what’s the rush anyway “ “ Remember I have to meet up with my friends at the cafe, I thought I told you last night “ “ oh yeah..I forgot I apologize.. “

Huh…Wednesday seems little upset at the fact I’m leaving, I probably shouldn’t pay any mind like she says I’m being dramatic I just really need to find my blush compact and change, But then suddenly Wednesday speaks up again.

“ Y/n. “

“ yes? “

“ um..I absolutely hate having this sentence come out of my mouth but I would appreciate it if you’d stay with me…at least for a little bit “

You look over to Wednesday and soften at how honest and vulnerable she is being, she struggles and hates showing affection through words and physically so she just gives gifts but this is the first she is actually asking which caught you by surprise and herself too, she never thought she would have the courage to or even have the right person to even say that “ disgusting “ sentence. You just nodded and quickly send a text message to your group-chat saying you won’t be able to make it with no context whatsoever, Wednesday moves a little bit the the side for you to have enough room and lay down next to her. You sit on the bed and lift your legs on the mattress covered with sheets that are black since Wednesday would refuse to sleep on anything bright. You lay down next to her and she just scoots closer to you and turns on her side ( with her hands still criss cross on her shoulders) and nuzzles her head into the side of your chest while you just have your hand on her back ( if that makes any sense at all) as you get even more relaxed Wednesday just mouths the words “ I love you “ as she drifts back to sleep.

EXTRA🤗!!! :

This would be Wednesday when she feels that you aren’t next to her and wakes up and waits for you to come back so she can either yell at you or ask you to come back and lay down with her

“ y/n I feel hurt, It feels like the coldest nights of the year and you left me to freeze didn’t you, usually it’s a relaxing feeling but coming from you it doesn’t feel so relaxing so would you care to explain why did you leave? “

Or

“ you’re finally back, this is horrifying to say but do you mind joining me back into bed..I would appreciate it more then you’d know so would that be a yes or no y/n? If you say no I will rip out each of your organs, yes? Okay great “

MY INTRO AND MASTERLIST!

| Bisexual | Mexican & Dutch | Single | ☆

- i speak English, Spanish! currently I’m learning french and Dutch

Hobbies I enjoy ♡

- Writing, Drawing and making jewelry

Interests I have ☆

- Acting, Music, Skin care, Makeup & Astrology

Dislikes/Yuck ♡

- Toxic Fandom’s, People from Ohio, Mistreated books, Awful Movie Endings, Mathematics, Homophobia & Transphobia

WRITING CHARACTERS ☆

Series and movies I’ll write for (including characters!!) and reminder I do write for female, male, gender neutral, non binary, transgender readers just give me a request in my inbox!! Besitos 💋

- WEDNESDAY ☆

- Wednesday Addams, Enid, Tyler, Rowan, and Bianca

THE BLACK PHONE♡

- Finney blake, Robin Arellano and Vance hopper

- SLASHERS ☆

- Brahms heelshire, Bo Sinclair, Billy loomis, Stu macher, Vincent sinclair

- BARBIE ♡

- Ken, Barbie and Allan

- ROCKY ☆

- rocky balboa and Adrian

- TULSA KING ♡

- Dwight Manfredi, Tyson Mitchell and Mitch Keller

MORTAL KOMBAT11 ☆

Kano,Erron Black,Kabal,Johnny cage, Milena,Sonya,Cassie,Baraka,Jade,Kitana,Skarlet, D’Vorah, Kollector, Rain

I DONT FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING :

Physical abuse, Any forced sexual activities unless it’s CNC, Any hate towards LGBTQ People/Rights, Any hate towards Transgendered people/Rights, Or any hate towards race. Pedophilia, Incest topics or activities, Eating disorders, Cat calling topics, Body negativity or shaming, Self harm or anything that falls under these categories I’m sorry but these are my boundaries.

WHAT I FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING :

Fluff, Angst, Jealousy, yandere, possessive, kidnapping, Smut,Murder,fanfics, Head canons, One shots,Series, Friends to lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers to friends,LGBTQ Characters, Custom OCs, Song inspired posts, Poly head canons, Male Reader, Female Reader, Non binary Reader, Requests and much more.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post I love you and have a good day today!! ☆

꒰ ⊹ ˚ . Summary — Wednesday Addams characters sort into categories based on how likely they are to look up your skirt/dress!

Contains of — Skirts, Very short head canons, slight nsfw, smirks,shyness, Wednesday,Enid,Ajax,Rowan,Bianca,Xavier,Yoko and Ms.Weems etc.

Babette’s note — I apologize for not posting!! I have no excuse for not posting I simply have not wrote anything and I apologize I’m very sorry and I’ll try to be consistent but here is a very short head canon(?) to feed you guys!!If I forgot any other character please remind me I’ll add them in for sure!! Love you<33

- Intentionally will pick the ends of your skirt, lift it and take a peak at your ass & under-wear : Xavier, Ajax and Yoko!!!

- Xavier would absolutely do this expect in class or in-front of a big group a people, he doesn’t want to risk other people seeing your ass.

- Ajax wouldn’t do it so often but would secretly try to for example pretend he dropped a pen so he can look up or silently move behind you and snap a quick photo and pretend it didn’t happen.

- Yoko is pretty chill, she wouldn’t mind the chance of people seeing until they say something negative.Honestly she’d just lift it and smirk and go back to what she was doing. ( secretly a pervert)

- sneakily try to look when they have the chance to do so : Enid, Rowan and Tyler!!

- Enid would try to be subtle about it and try not to draw attention but if you do catch her she will reply with a “ I just love your skirt babe! “

- Rowan is very shy as it is and does feel guilty when he does but it’s just a sneak peak right? If you catch him he quickly drops his inhaler to make it seem like he wasn’t looking at all and it’s kinda scary how good he is at it.

- Tyler isn’t shy but wouldn’t be upfront about it either, I think if he gets away with it he is like “ YESS!! “ but if he gets caught and you ask “ were you looking up my skirt? “ he would just awkwardly look around and say “ uh yeaa? “

Immediately looks away,gets up and covers you with a sweater/pulls your skirt down or simply just block the view of your butt out of respect towards you and embarrassment from the sudden view : Wednesday, Bianca, Rowan & Ms.Weems ( larissa )

— When Wednesday is comfortable with you in a sexual manner she would like the view but like Enid doesn’t want to draw any sort of public attention towards your guys love(sex) life or having anybody look at you in that way so she will stand up and put a sweater or her uniform jacket over your butt while pulling it down,gaining your attention

— I wouldn’t be surprised if Bianca is a little possessive about things in general or just about you, so she will do her best to make sure nobody looks at you in that manner or that body part of yours, not only that but Bianca cares about you deeply and wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or sexualized with her,in a school environment or just at all!

— Rowan, In front of people or in class, he wouldn’t think twice but to cover your behind due to all respect ( and because he doesn’t want anybody looking at what’s his ) he does get nervous at the sight but he would cover you unless he wants to take a risk in peaking

— It doesn’t matter what kind of relationship you have with Larissa, she finds any type of nudity inappropriate in Nevermore academy and to protect you and respect your body and not sexualize you she will most definitely cover your butt without an issue, However if it’s in private she would giggle and look away and say “ hun your behind is showing a bit “

Hey thanks for reading I really appreciate it!! just remember What you think of yourself is much more important than what people think of you!! I love you have a good day!!<33

⭐️🤍 - Babette

Wednesday x Sibling!reader - no one’s messing with you

hi love, please may i request a Wednesday Addams with a younger sibling reader who is mute and gets overwhelmed easily and Wednesday is only nice to them and is really over protective with them. Thank you, i love your writing - Anon💜

A/N: sign language will be in bold

When you were told Wednesday was moving school you were adamant that you were going with her much to your parents sadness.

They didn’t want you to go, but they knew you you were really close to Wednesday and didn’t want to break that bond, so after a while of trying, they finally got you into the same school a few weeks later.

It was nerve wracking as you sat in the office while your mom explained everything to Weems, you sat with your dad while he held your hand.

“Any trouble and you’ll call us right my little sunshine?”

You nodded your head, squeezing his hand.

“You’ll keep an eye on your sister?” He asked.

You nodded again and smiled softly at him, pulling your hand away from his for a second.

I’ll be okay. I’ll keep an eye on Wednesday. And I’ll call often.

Your dad nodded his head and kissed your forehead.

“Good, I hope you make lots of friends little sunshine.”

You smiled at him and turned to your mom who had finished her conversation.

“You’ll really like it here.” She smiled softly.

Thanks mom.

You hugged her tightly and turned to your brother who sniffled a little.

“I can’t believe you have to go as well.”

You will always be my little brother. Don’t worry.

Hugging him, you walked them to the gate to say bye and watched as they all left with Weems stood at your side, and you felt someone else there too.

You just smiled, you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Your dorm is near mine. Let’s got.”

You nodded, following behind your older sister with a soft smile on your face as she lead you to your dorm where your stuff was already waiting for you.

She let you into the room and followed you in, closing the door behind you.

“Why did you come here really? Did mother and father put you up to this?”

You shook your head.

No. I didn’t like school after you left. I wanted to be here.

Wednesday looked at you and nodded her head.

“Fine, let me tell you some things you will need to know.”

She told you about some others students, what students you could find around this place and why, and what was currently going on.

Wednesday immediately saw you growing anxious when she said about the killings.

“Don’t be such a baby, I’ll be here with you.”

You won’t let anything happen to me?

“No. As tempting as it is, mother and father would have my head.” She droned out.

You nodded your head and smiled, starting to unpack your things while she said she was going.

You were putting everything in your bed when you noticed s little hand helping you out and you beamed brightly.

Thing!

He waved and crawled up your arm, resting on your shoulder while you unpacked happily.

It was nice knowing your sister and your best friend, and your little family pet as you liked to call him were here with you.

But it was still nerve wracking, you weren’t in any of your sisters classes, and because you couldn’t talk to anyone, no one really bothered with you.

Sitting in the quad, you watched as a shadow loomed over you and you turned around to face one of the students you recognised from Wednesday’s class

“So you’re the new Addams? What is it with you creeps coming here?” She asked.

You blinked and slowly backed away.

“What? Siren got your tongue?” She smirked.

She took a step forward and you took one back, bumping into a chest you looked up to see Wednesday behind you.

“Bianca.”

“Wednesday.” The siren snarled.

“If you so much as approach (Y/N) again I will chain you to s rock, and shove you to the bottom of a lake, making sure you fall so far down no one will ever find you again.”

“Whatever you freak.”

Bianca scoffed and walked away and Wednesday spun you around so you were looking at her.

“Let’s go.”

You followed behind her, and she led you to a group of her friends and sat you down, and she sat right next to you.

They introduced themselves and you offered a shy wave in return.

“Here. I don’t like them.”

Wednesday handed you some of her food and you smiled, happily eating the snacks she had given you.

“But Wednesday I thought you like those ones?” Xavier asked.

“I. Don’t. Like. Them.” She said lowly.

The boy raised his hands and no one brought it up again.

They simply carried on talking while you ate your snacks and Wednesday sat next to you, doing some homework.

She handed you a note and you opened it to read her best writing.

If anyone else gives you trouble tell me. I will deal with it.

Smiling, you nodded your head at her and stuffed the note in your pocket.

From that day on Wednesday never left you spend time by yourself, whenever you could you were with her and her small group of friends.

She would even spend most nights in your dorm, sleeping on the floor.

She never let you out of her sight unless she absolutely had to, and if anyone got too close to you they were threatened in the most horrifying way.

She was your body guard, and she was making sure that everyone knew if they messed with you, they messed with her too. And no one wanted to mess with Wednesday Addams

Absolutely crying and wheezing over this line from a Wednesday x Reader fic:

Someone needs to write yoko tanaka x reader fic rn.

everyone but her pt.19

Summary: Fall semester is in full swing and Wednesday agrees to go on a triple date with you and the gang to the Harvest Festival. But when you get a call in the middle of the festival, everyone's lives change. And not for the better.

Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: character death, swearing, physical injury, depictions of grief, flashbacks (bolded italics), emotional abuse, abusive parents Pairing: Wednesday 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 @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat

The fall semester could not have come soon enough.

After Lurch had picked her up and brought her back, Wednesday had walked into her own home and felt lonely. Something was missing, and that something was you, and she was so mad at you for ruining the peaceful atmosphere she had spent so long crafting in her home. The perfectly sculpted silence now felt broken and incomplete.

Damn you.

You exchanged letters throughout the rest of the summer. Each one detailing your work at the ice cream shop with Bo, or helping Tio with his construction company, or including letters from your siblings. Emily made sure to write, and Daniel would send her updates on your thoughts. Those were always fun, even if they were rather mundane.

There were occasions when you would appear at the house, whether it was before visiting Nicky or after. You would only ever stay the one evening and night, but Wednesday looked forward to them. Even though you were usually far too tired to do anything but relax, it was simply your presence that made the days feel normal.

Somehow, some way, you had wormed your way into Wednesday’s daily life and routines. She would hate you for it if she didn’t feel so strongly for you.

She got back to Nevermore a week before you did. It gave her enough time to settle in, get back into her regular school routine, and reacquaint herself with Nevermore's scenes. But she would be gravely mistaken to believe your absence didn't affect her at Nevermore either. Even Enid commented on her "excessive moping" before you arrived.

You finally showed up halfway through the first day of classes. It had already been unusual enough to go through the first few classes without having you there to doodle on her papers and distract her. The moment she saw you walking with Weems through the courtyard, it felt a little less empty. There was something off putting about you walking around in something other than your Nevermore uniform, but that was something she could get used to.

Surprisingly, you were tasked with practically being a teacher’s assistant. More often than not, Wednesday found you in the teacher’s lounge grading papers, or preparing documents for the next week, or whatever else everyone could think of. The best days were where she would see you during class, with you sitting in the back doing whatever the teacher had instructed.

Those were the days Wednesday would sit in the back with you, letting you hold her hand under the table while you worked and she listened.

You had admitted one night after her writing hour that it was essentially just a job to give you something to do. Weems knew you couldn’t just spend the year doing nothing, so she had basically created a position for you. Wednesday could see you deflate a little at the admission, only picking yourself back up when you got back to talking about all the things you “got” to do.

The first few weeks were easy to get used to. While Wednesday would study and you would work, you both still found time for Saturday morning coffees or occasional trips down to visit Nicky. More often than not, you would invite Wednesday to go with you, having just enough money for the bus trip to and from the hospital each Sunday. She was even becoming a regular, and Nurse Jackie always greeted her with a warm smile.

It was on one of these bus trips back that you brought up an idea that you thought was rather genius.

“The harvest festival is this week,” you said. 

It was easy to hear you from the seats at the back of the bus. After enough trips you had both picked up on the fact that if you sat at the back, your vehicle anxiety eased considerably. Then add the repeat trips and you were almost a professional. Your leg still bounced and you still played with Wednesday’s fingers, but it was progress.

“Indeed,” Wednesday answered. “Enid is very much looking forward to it.”

“We should go,” you said. Your eyes were focused on her fingers; you also couldn’t sit by the window or look out of it. That was okay, she enjoyed the view. “We could make it a triple date.”

“Who would be the third couple?” She asked, turning to look at you and the small smile on your face.

“Ajax and Kent.”

“They’re not a couple.”

“They certainly act like it,” you teased.

“The harvest festival is where teenagers go to act like imbeciles and show off their subpar skills at carnival games,” Wednesday said even though she already knew how this conversation was going to end. It always ended the same.

“But we are teenagers who act like imbeciles and show off our subpar skills,” you said without looking up. “It’s what you like about us.”

“It’s what I like about you,” she said aloud and froze. You stopped playing with her fingers for a moment before continuing.

“Well then I can’t wait to try for an hour to win you a carnival bear,” you said with a tone of finality that Wednesday couldn’t argue with.

Throughout the week, everyone continuously brought up the harvest festival and what they were all excited for. The trio was excited for a ferris wheel, Kent and Ajax were excited about the food, and you were excited about the games. Even though you admitted you weren’t sure you had the money for it.

She slowly snuck a little bit of money into your wallet each day before the festival. You never noticed.

“Alright, where to?” Enid asked once everyone had gotten off the bus at the festival. You were already holding Wednesday’s hand; for tonight, she would allow it.

“Food first,” Ajax said with a nod.

“You’ve just got the munchies,” you said with a snort.

“I absolutely do,” he replied with his own smile.

“Ferris wheel,” Kent said. “That way Divina will shut up about it.”

“I’ll kill you,” Divina shot back instantly.

“If you kill me, you won’t get your “romantic” kiss,” he teased.

“Your death won’t stop me,” she said, “it might even make it more enjoyable.”

“No homicide,” Yoko cut in. “I’m not talking to the police tonight.”

“What about tomorrow?” You asked, pulling Wednesday along to get the group moving somewhere. “Fun tonight, homicide tomorrow.”

“You’ve been hanging around Wednesday too much,” Yoko mumbled.

Wednesday pretended not to see the smile on your face or the way you squeezed her hand lightly. Everyone quieted down the faux arguing and started getting down to what everyone wanted to do. They all made their way to the ferris wheel first where you climbed in and pulled her close. If she leaned into your side when the ride got started, or kissed you once when she was certain no one would see, neither one of you would admit it.

“Did you and Ajax kiss at the top?” Divina asked once everyone got off.

“Full make out,” Kent said with a nod.

“With tongue,” Ajax continued. Your laugh made Wednesday’s stomach turn.

After the ferris wheel - which the trio wanted to ride four times in a row - it was on to get some food. Ajax and Kent got an obscene amount of food that was enough for the whole group. Unfortunately, so did you and Enid. Wednesday waited at the table with Yoko and Divina, waiting impatiently for you to come back.

“Oh god,” Yoko said when the four of you came over to the table with what had to probably be over a hundred dollars worth of food.

“It’s vital for our health,” you said when you plopped down beside Wednesday and scooted some fries in her direction.

“You mean for our health,” Yoko said with a glare directed at you. “You all get hangry.”

“Enid and I need it,” you said. Your thigh pressed against Wednesday’s and she felt your thumb rubbing her knee. It was comforting, yet discreet. Perfect.

“What about those two chucklefucks?” Divina asked, pointing her finger at Ajax and Kent who were absolutely hypnotised by their food.

“They’re just high,” you shrugged with a smile before shoveling some more fries into your mouth.

Conversation was easy when everyone was sitting around eating. You had pushed all your food in between you and Wednesday, silently urging her to eat. And she did. Everyone knew you weren’t necessarily one to share for no reason, and she certainly wasn’t going to turn you down. After all, the smile on your face was more than enough to convince her to continue.

You looked happy. It was one of the few public outings, outside of Nevermore, that you had let your wings free for the night. There had been an uncertainty in your movements at the beginning of the night, but now that everyone was laughing and having fun? All uncertainty was gone and you were almost, almost confident. Your wings would twitch and ruffle when you laughed, or they would give a little flap when you were excited. They stayed close to your body, but they were free. You were free.

“Wanna go on some rides next?” Ajax asked once everyone had eaten their fill. Well, Kent and Ajax had eaten more than their fill, but that was alright. No one was complaining.

“I think we’re gonna play some games,” you said, pulling Wednesday closer to your side. No one commented, but she saw the smirk on Yoko’s face.

“Then let’s meet back here in 30 minutes?” Divina asked, and everyone agreed before they all walked off.

“Come on,” you said once everyone had left. “I’m winning you one of those stupid bears.”

“You’re going to spend all of your money before you can win it,” Wednesday said simply, but allowed you to pull her along after you anyway.

“Then I’ll be broke and happy,” you said with a smile.

She had been right; you were losing your money far faster than you were able to win anything. The only bright side was that you had her hold your wallet, and she would slip a few more dollars in while you were focused. Much like the past week, you still didn’t notice.

There was one game that you ended up being successful at; the small, rigged shooting range. With a precision that only came from hundreds of hours of practice, you hit the bullseye on each target, your face scrunched up in concentration and your tongue sticking out of the side of your mouth. You managed to knock over every target on your first try.

“Here you go,” you said when you handed over the small stuffed crocodile. “Told you I’d win it.”

“Win a different one,” Wednesday challenged.

“You don’t like him?” You asked as you eyed the crocodile. “I thought he was pretty cute.”

“I think Nicky would appreciate him more,” she said with the smallest smile. You looked at the crocodile for a little longer before nodding.

“You’re right,” you said. “You’re much more of the pink teddy bear type.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Wednesday whispered.

“Watch me,” you shot back. She didn’t have time to argue before you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

In public.

Oh, you were getting bold.

Wednesday’s pout was still present when you both walked back to the meet up spot, a stuffed animal in each arm. Wednesday was now carrying the crocodile and a pink teddy bear while you were carrying two of the biggest stuffed gorillas she believed she had ever seen. But when she saw your grin now stretched from ear to ear, she couldn’t tell you how ridiculous it was. Not that night, at least.

“Jesus fuck,” Yoko said once everyone finally came into view, “what is that monstrosity?”

“I won it for my boys,” you shot back as you dropped the giant gorillas into Kent’s and Ajax’s arms. “Can’t leave them empty handed.”

“You’re all so weird,” Divina said with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re just jealous because your girlfriends are useless,” Kent said. He flinched when Enid fake-lunged at him.

“Y/N’s your girlfriend now?” Wednesday asked, looking up to meet Kent’s and Ajax’s gaze.

“Uh-”

“-Well-”

“-Be nice,” you chuckled while both boys floundered in their response. “They know their place.”

“Do they?” Yoko asked as Wednesday felt your pocket vibrate. You looked at the phone in confusion for a second.

“Hey, give me a sec,” you said, patting her shoulder once before you walked away. “Hello?”

They watched you walk away from the group for only a moment before continuing the conversation, but Wednesday stayed watching you. She listened to the group, of course, but her eyes were focused on you. You had started pacing and she took note of the way you were fluttering your fingers. 

The longer the call went on, the more frantic you looked. You ran your hand over your hair and looked around with wide eyes. She wasn’t with you but she knew you weren’t really seeing anything; simply looking for something to keep yourself grounded. Your hand remained on the top of your head until you stilled and your phone slowly slid out of your hand until it hit the ground.

She saw the light reflect off a tear falling from your right eye.

Your wings extended and you jumped into the air, flying off before anyone could even notice.

—---

Faster.

The cool fall air stung your lungs with every breath you took.

Faster.

The burn in the muscles beneath your wings was practically unbearable; too little use had eliminated any sort of endurance you used to have.

Fucking faster!

You let out a frustrated scream as you tried to push yourself harder, faster than you had ever flown before. The wind hurt your face and your lungs and your fingers were going numb but you didn’t care. None of that mattered because you had to get there, you had to get there now.

If you could get moving a little bit faster then you could get there in 20 minutes and then you could-

-it felt like a bolt of lightning struck the back of your brain. The bolt raced through every inch, every fold. You let out another scream as your wings faltered.

“Back straight, Y/N, and shoulders back.”

“Why can’t you be normal like your brother?”

“Don’t you understand what this is doing to our family?”

A warm hug, hands pressing tight against the base of your wings. It hurt, but the hug just felt too good.

“What will the senator think about this? The mayor?”

“Y/N, you know I love you. So why won’t you just do this simple thing?”

“If you won’t put them away, I’ll cut them off.”

The pain was too much. It felt like your head was throbbing and your brain was trying to push your eyes out of their sockets. Your hands flew to your eyes to put pressure on them as your wings faltered again and you fell a few hundred feet before catching yourself.

“Oh yes, she’s doing wonderfully, we’ll make a prodigy of her yet.”

“You love us, don’t you, darling? This is for your own good, you know that.”

“Your parents have high hopes for you, young lady. Don’t disappoint them.”

“It’s just you and me, little bird.”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N!”

Another scream slipped past your lips as your wings finally gave in, the pain in your head finally rushing down your spine. The wind whipped past your face as you plummeted back to the ground, and you only just had enough time to cover your face before hitting the trees and ground below.

Everything hurt. It hurt so bad. Everywhere throbbed or burned or stung or just flat out ached. You rolled onto your stomach and pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, coughing until you could spit out the gunk in your mouth. It was blood.

Your father helped you smooth the dress down, pressing tight against your wings until they were completely hidden. He gave you a simple kiss before whispering “you wouldn’t tell anyone about those things without permission, would you?” You shook your head and he smiled.

Nicky held your hand as you watched your mother and father continue to talk with the lawyer man from down the street. They were supposed to be done, it was bedtime. Didn’t they know you were waiting?

“You will tarnish our name if you keep up this nonsense.”

“You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you, darling?”

Your ankle was sprained, you could tell that much when you finished the struggle to push yourself up to your feet. The thoughts - were they memories? - continued to rush through your head with every beat of your heart. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, you needed to go. Your wing was sprained but it could last another 20 minutes. With a clumsy jump into the air, you started your journey again.

The hospital looked different in the dark. It looked less welcoming. Fitting. You could feel the dirt stuck to your knees and elbows fall to the ground as you skip-ran through the halls. Only one thing was on your mind and you had to get there, he was right up there, you had to get there, Jackie needed to move out of the fucking way.

You crashed into the doorframe.

It was horrifically quiet.

“I’m so sorry, darling.”

Why was it so quiet?

“We didn’t want to interrupt your night out.”

Why wasn’t the heart monitor on?

“The experts said it was futile.”

Or the ventilator?

“It was only prolonging the inevitable.”

Your eyes turned to the far side of the room where Marcus and Kristi were standing. Why were they there? Couldn’t they hear how quiet the room was? It was never quiet. Why were they giving you that look?

“I’m sorry, darling,” Marcus said softly. “This is the merciful thing to do.”

You inhaled sharply once your lungs started burning. Had you not been breathing? Surely you had. Your heart felt like it wanted to burst out of your chest. It hurt. Why would it hurt? Everything was fine, it was okay, it was just too quiet. Once the noises started back up, everything would be fine.

But why couldn’t you bring yourself to look at him?

Marcus was suddenly standing in front of you, a sad smile on his face. Why was he sad? Everything was fine, it was all okay.

“You look disastrous,” he said softly. He lifted his hand to cup your cheek and oh.

Oh.

You sighed involuntarily, almost even whimpered as you leaned into his touch. Oh, it was nice. His hand was warm and soft and comforting. When had he done this last? When had he last let you lean into his touch?

“You simply must behave,” your father said softly once he had pulled you away from the party. “Just smile.” He cupped your cheek; his hand practically covered the entire half of your face. His hands were soft. They were home.

“You know it was necessary,” Marcus said. From the way you were leaning into his hand, you were in the perfect position to look at Nicky.

All the equipment had been removed.

Why had they taken it away?

“They’re an abomination!” Your father yelled. “Either you keep them hidden, or I have them removed!” You cupped your hands over your ears; he always yelled so loud.

“Come here, darling,” Marcus whispered, pulling you into a hug and tucking your head into his neck. His arms wrapped around you so tight and you could feel your eyes stinging and your head was still pounding and-

“-Daddy,” you choked out around the sob that was stuck in your throat. 

Your next breath was watery, scratchy, and you let out another strangled whimper before grabbing the back of his shirt so tightly your fingers ached. The tears continued to fall down your cheeks and stain his shirt and your cries echoed through the room, but he was holding you. He was holding you, and you could hear him saying something into your ear and he was acting like your father. Nine years you had waited for that hug, and it felt better than you ever could have imagined.

But why did it have to be because of Nicky?

It was impossible to look away from him. You were holding Marcus so close and it almost felt like home again but you couldn’t quit looking. His eyes were closed but you could feel him staring back at you. Through the pounding in your head and the memories that wouldn’t quit, you could hear him. Hear him banging against your skull and wailing and asking why.

It was so terrifyingly quiet.

“That’s quite enough now,” Marcus said softly into your ear. “Smiths don’t cry, remember?”

No. No, Smiths don’t cry, he was right. You held back the cries until it physically hurt. Held them back until you felt nothing, nothing at all, and you wondered if maybe that was how Nicky had felt before they had made their decision. Had he felt numb? Had he felt anything at all?

“That’s better,” Marcus said as he pulled away and held you at arm’s distance.

“We have paperwork to sign,” Kristi said softly. That was rather unusual; she must have been feeling particularly emotional. “We’ll give you time to say your goodbyes.”

Kristi walked out of the room, her hand brushing lightly against yours. You flinched. Then it was Marcus’ turn. He squeezed your shoulders lightly and stepped around you - please don’t let me go. For a moment, his fingers brushed against your dirt covered wings; you shivered violently. Please do it again.

“Put those things away before we get back,” he said with a smile.

He walked away.

The room was quiet.

Nicky was just laying there; if you didn’t think about it too hard, he almost looked asleep. That was good, right? Yeah, he was asleep. You should go over there. You should go over there and talk to him. It was awfully rude, you hadn’t even said hello to him yet.

But your feet wouldn’t move. They wouldn’t take the steps to get to the side of the bed where you could check if he had stubble that needed shaving. He would need a nice shave if Marcus and Kristi were there. You should go over and check. Just go check.

Or you should put your wings away first. Marcus said so, you should put them away. Your eyes looked all over the room - skipping over Nicky in his bed - but found nothing. Oh, right, it wasn’t your dorm. You didn’t have an extra harness. That was okay, you could tuck them under your jacket for now. Right?

Every joint in your body ached, but you managed to pull the jacket over your wings. The holes were still in the back, but it was okay. Marcus just said to put them away. You just needed to take a deep breath and go say hi to Nicky and they would come back and you could all be a family, right?

Right?

You didn’t recall walking yourself over to the side of the bed. That was okay though, you were still trying to wade through memory after memory that was resurfacing. The migraine hadn’t gone away but it was okay. Everything was fine. You couldn’t see Nicky’s chest moving but it was fine.

He was sleeping.

The room was too quiet.

His hand looked terribly lonely there, resting on top of the bedsheets. It had been a little while since you had held his hand. But Wednesday had held it last week; she had commented on how warm it was. He was always warm. Maybe it was something in the family, because she always said the same thing about you. All you needed to do was reach out, hold his hand, feel how warm it was, and everything would be fine.

Everything was fine.

His hand was cold. It was cold, and his fingers didn’t move the same, and it was too limp. Why was he cold? It was fall, sure, but the room was warm. Maybe he just needed an extra blanket, and then he would be fine.

Everything was fine.

The room was too quiet.

The memories continued to pound memories into your brain like nails. It felt like you were nothing more than a glorified pincushion. But that was okay, because the memories meant everything was okay. People were supposed to have memories, right? It was supposed to happen.

You climbed into the bed, curling up into Nicky’s side and resting your head on his chest. It was quiet. He was cold. But it was okay. Everything was fine. He just needed someone to warm him up and then he would be okay. Your lungs were burning and your chest hurt and you wanted to scream, but it was okay.

The room was too quiet.

Your thoughts were too loud.

Maybe if you just closed your eyes for a few minutes, let the memories play on the back of your eyelids. That would help a bit, wouldn’t it? Give your brain time to burn itself out, settle back into the usual patterns. No more memories, no more thoughts, just silence.

You wished your head was silent.

“Wake up, darling.”

Your mouth tasted like ash and felt like cotton. There was a hand gently shaking your shoulder and your eyes felt heavy as you looked around. Nicky was still sleeping beneath you. Good, he needed the rest. But why couldn’t they let you rest too? You had been working hard, you had been up late, you were hurting. You could rest too, right?

“We need to go gather your things,” Marcus continued. He pushed your shoulder just enough to roll you off of Nicky. “You’ll stay with us while we plan the funeral.”

Why would you be planning a funeral? Who had died? It had to be a family member, that was the only reason Marcus and Kristi would be there. Yes, that had to be it. A family member had died. A shame, truly, hopefully it was someone you remembered.

Arms reached under your back and behind your knees and you felt yourself being lifted out of the bed. Warm hands, strong hands held you close, and with a shaky sigh, you leaned into the body underneath you. He smelled nice; like tobacco and mint. Just like you remembered.

Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the tear stain you left on the collar of his shirt.

You stared at the hole in your jeans. It hadn’t been there earlier, had it? No, it must have happened after your fall. One of the tree branches had to have caught it just right, it would explain the dark stain spreading out from it. A simple scratch, nothing more.

You were so focused on the hole in your jeans that you didn’t see Nurse Jackie move toward you, or hear her tell you she was sorry.

You didn’t notice anything. You were simply numb.

It was still too quiet.

—---

Wednesday was losing her mind and she didn’t care who noticed.

You had vanished and left your phone and there was no way anyone could have gotten a hold of you. She had immediately left to tell Weems, and after handing the phone over, Weems’ face fell. Why? She didn’t explain, but it was enough to set Wednesday on edge.

Everyone had gotten back to Nevermore and you still weren’t there. You were still missing, and no one had heard from you, and no one even knew what to do. No warning, no nothing. And as Wednesday paced the floor while the entire group watched, she felt even more on edge.

They needed to quit staring at her.

“It was probably just an emergency,” Divina said after Wednesday had completed what was probably the 37th lap around the room.

“She looked panicked,” Wednesday said.

“She always looks panicked,” Ajax cut in. “It’s a normal look, I bet she’s fine.”

“Why wouldn’t she warn anyone?” Wednesday asked. “Emergency or not, she left without notice.”

“You know she doesn’t think things through like that,” Enid said softly. She had tried to comfort Wednesday at first, but after realising it was a failed task, she had settled down on Wednesday’s bed.

You should have been settled on her bed.

“I’m going to talk to Weems,” Wednesday decided aloud. “I’ll be back.”

No one bothered trying to stop her as she walked out of the room and made her way downstairs. Weems had insisted on staying downstairs in case you came back so it was easy to find her. She hadn’t even gotten herself a chair to sit down on, instead just standing at the top of the stairs and watching out at the gate.

“You know where she is,” Wednesday said as she sidled up next to Weems. Neither one of them looked at each other.

“I have a hunch,” Weems answered. “I pray I’m wrong.”

“If you’re not?”

“Then you had better learn how to be comforting,” she said with a sad smile. “Quickly.”

Oh. Oh so it was serious. This wasn’t some simple emergency, this was going to be something devastating. Wednesday’s mind wracked through everything that could have been the culprit. Your family was the logical conclusion, but who? Had one of the kids gotten hurt? Had your aunt been in an accident on the way back to Portland? Or maybe it was Abuelita, she was rather old. Hopefully it wasn’t-

-a car pulled through the gate and up to the entrance, and a man and woman stepped out. She recognised the woman as Kristi, and instantly she felt the desire to commit a felony. But the man she didn’t recognise at all. He went to the passenger rear door and opened it, helping someone out.

And there you stood, with dead eyes and scratches and dirt and dried blood all over you. You moved forward with a limp, and you still weren’t looking up. She heard Weems inhale sharply as she held her hands together tightly, knuckles turned ghostly white.

“We’re here to grab a few things,” the man said. He had your lips. “She’s coming home while we plan the funeral.” A funeral?

You still weren’t moving or looking up at anyone. Wednesday wanted you to look up, to say something, to act like more than a zombie. You couldn’t just leave like that and come back like this and not expect anyone to worry. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she was worried.

“Shall I go help her?” The man asked once no one had said anything.

He looked like you; you had his face. The same eyes and curve of the nose. His hair was the same too, and though he was just an inch or two shorter than you, Wednesday could clearly see the resemblance. Your father, the one you had never truly talked about but had eluded to on a few occasions. Which, as Wednesday connected the dots, would make Kristi your mother.

Things were making a bit more sense.

“Miss Addams will take her,” Weems said with a faux smile. “You two shall stay down here with me while we discuss the situation.”

“Very well,” your father said with his own mock smile. His seemed far more predatory as she turned to look at you. “You’ll need about two weeks worth, darling.”

Oh, Wednesday didn’t like him at all. She hoped he saw the glare she was giving him because if it was up to her, she would have destroyed him. Physically? Emotionally? She wasn’t sure, she just knew he deserved to be punished for something. Anything.

She didn’t wait for anyone else to say anything before reaching out and grabbing your hand-

-her own head flew back as that unexpected electric shock went through every nerve in her body.

A grave was being dug as a crowd approached. Tears fell down your cheeks but you didn’t dare utter a noise.

The sound of flesh pounding into flesh and screams of rage following quickly after.

“I worked with your father,” an accented voice said, “and I want my pound of flesh.”

A werewolf howl.

Your face, smiling a bloody smile.

Wednesday steadied herself quickly and pulled you along, ignoring the looks everyone was giving her. Except for you, of course; you still had yet to look up. She was thankful you could at least function enough to walk up the stairs and make the trek to your dorm.

Once your door shut behind the both of you, she let go of your hand and watched you. Watched as a tear slowly, silently slipped down your cheek. There was the slightest quiver of your bottom lip and that familiar shake of your hands. What was going on in your head? What had happened?

“Y/N?” Wednesday asked once you still hadn’t moved for the next few minutes. You blinked once, slowly, before turning to look at her.

You were crying.

“I’ll be right back,” you said in such a broken voice that Wednesday’s heart hurt.

You stumbled your way to the bathroom and shut the door, and Wednesday was left to stand there in the middle of your room. Part of her debated packing some things for you; your father had said two weeks, hadn’t he? There was no way you were going to be able to pack it all yourself, not in your current state.

“You had better learn to be comforting,” Weems' voice echoed in her head. It was terrifying advice because she wasn’t good at comfort. It didn’t matter how many times she asked Enid or Yoko, or how many times she rehearsed it in her head, she was no good at comforting someone. And now that you desperately, clearly needed it, she wasn’t sure if she could do it.

But she could at least be helpful. She could help pack your things and make it a little easier for you. So that’s exactly what she did. Her shoes thudded against the floor as she walked around, grabbing the clothing she knew you preferred to wear. Sweats, a pair of jeans, some of your favourite shirts. You didn’t have much, but she still knew your preferences. She even threw one of her own jackets into the bag for you for some extra comfort.

She was in the process of finding your socks when something crashed in your bathroom. Her body acted on instinct as she ran to the door, her hand flying to the doorknob. It was locked, and she could hear another crash and what sounded like a muffled scream.

“Y/N,” Wednesday called out, but the sounds didn’t stop. “Open the door.”

That muffled scream sounded a little louder, and Wednesday could hear the heartbreak in it. The utter devastation, completely reminiscent of when Nero had been brutally murdered. It was horrifying, almost a wail, and it sounded painful. Almost like your throat couldn’t handle the sounds it was producing.

“Open the door,” Wednesday said again, a little louder, a little more bold.

Another crash, another scream, a thud.

That’s it, Wednesday thought as she looked around your room. She knew you kept bobby pins on your desk, top left drawer. Her shoes made the same thud that had come from your bathroom as she walked over and grabbed the bobby pin. It would work perfectly.

With the precision that only came from practice, she picked the lock to your bathroom door and threw it open. She stopped in the doorway as she took in the scene. The singular mirror was broken and the shards lay littered across the floor. Bottles were thrown around and the towel rack had been ripped off the wall.

There in the middle of the floor, leaning against the tub, was you. You with your hands gripping your head and tears falling down your face and another wail just begging to fall from your lips. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and you were rocking back and forth.

And Wednesday didn’t know what to do.

She could see one or two shards of glass sticking to your palms and the blood was slowly dripping down your arms, but she didn’t know what to do. There was too much to do. Did she help you remove the glass? Or comfort you emotionally? Did she clean up the bathroom so you wouldn’t hurt yourself again?

What did she need to do?

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice sounding watery and like you couldn’t breathe properly. Maybe you couldn’t. “I’ll fix it, I’m sorry.”

Now that was devastating.

You kept mumbling you were sorry while Wednesday walked across the broken glass until she could sit down beside you. She could see blooming bruises on your arms in the shape of fingers; they hadn’t been there before. You were bloody and bruised and broken and she didn’t know how to help you. What would help you?

“I’ll fix it,” you mumbled again, and Wednesday took note of the erratic, hazy look in your eyes and she didn’t know what to do.

But when you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped your head even tighter as if to hold all your thoughts in. Your mumbling was getting more incoherent and your fingers were digging deeper into your skin and you needed to stop. You were going to hurt yourself, you needed to stop.

In a split second decision, Wednesday took a gamble. She reached over and wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight and holding you still.

“Don’t touch me,” you practically cried as you attempted to push her away. But she didn’t let go. “Let me go.”

But your feeble attempts at pushing her away soon ended as you leaned into her and cried. No, it wasn’t just crying, you sobbed. Held her shirt so tight she swore she heard it rip, but she didn’t care. She just held you and let you sob those painful sounding cries and mumble your unintelligible words.

She didn’t know how long she sat there with you. How long you cried and soaked her shirt and probably bruised her side with how tightly you were holding her in return. A tear or two slipped from her own eyes, and she was thankful you couldn’t see or hear her. But seeing you this broken, this completely devastated? It was impossible to witness.

“It’s my fault,” you cried after a while. Wednesday didn’t question what you meant; it wasn’t the proper timing. “I killed him.”

Him?

Oh.

You pulled away before Wednesday could say anything. After all, what could she say? She didn’t know all the details, and had no idea what had gone on during the night. She knew it wasn’t your fault, of course, but she had no idea about anything else. What would she say to you?

“I need to go,” you whispered, and Wednesday watched helplessly as you violently wiped your eyes and nose dry and stood up. “My daddy is waiting.”

You walked out of the room with bloody palms and a blood stained face, and Wednesday got up quickly to follow. For a moment, you stood in the middle of your room and looked around; looking, but not seeing. You looked utterly lost, and Wednesday wanted to pull you into another hug because… well, because you looked like you needed one.

She didn’t want you to be alone.

But you shook your head and looked around again, grabbing the bag she had packed for you. The only other thing you grabbed was your harness, dragging it on the floor as you started to walk out of the room without her. She took care to turn your light off and close the door before chasing after you.

Everyone was still waiting at the school entrance when you both made it back down. You didn’t even bother looking at Weems before heading to the car and threw your stuff into the back. No goodbye, no lingering looks, nothing. You simply crawled into the car and shut the door behind you.

“We shall send you the details once they have been solidified,” your father said with that predatory mock smile as he and your mother walked back to the car.

Wednesday and Weems watched as they got into the car and pulled away with you, broken, in the back.

“She will never be the same without him,” Weems said softly. Wednesday looked up just in time to see a tear fall down her cheek. No, Wednesday thought as she looked back out to see the rear lights on the car. You wouldn’t be the same; you were broken.

everyone but her pt.20

Summary: Grief comes in many different forms and stages. You're stuck on anger, and Wednesday accompanies you to the funeral. But she says something wrong, with the best of intentions, and you end up doing something that will change your family dynamic for the worse.

Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: grief, child abuse, self neglect (not eating, recklessness, not taking care of self, excessive drinking), extreme anger, flashbacks (mentions of car accident, injuries, illusions to criminal activity), swearing, violence, smoking 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 @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

Everyone says grief comes in five stages; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But you disagree. It’s not five stages, it’s one. Only one stage that washes over you like a wave and holds you under until you’re drowning. You’re drowning and watching everyone on the surface live their lives as if you aren’t just right underneath them, choking on the salty sea water as you scream for help.

It’s only one stage; agony.

The house was bigger than you remembered when you got home far too early in the morning. The barristers were cleaner, the kitchen was far more pristine, and it was quiet. It was far too quiet, and your hands started to go clammy at the revelation. There wasn’t even any comfort in the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Tick-tocks burned themselves into your brain until it was stabbing into your head like a knife.

You started humming a tuneless song. It eased the pain slightly.

"Don't hum, dear," your mother said as she took her gloves off and handed them to your maid and previous nanny, Mabel. "It's childish."

Your humming died off and the silence came back.

"Mabel will show you to your room,” your father said, resting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. For a moment, things almost seemed okay. “We will mourn tomorrow, then start the preparations.”

And just like that everything came crashing down once again. Paired perfectly with the migraine that still refused to settle.

“Oh, Y/N,” your father called out before you managed to get more than three steps up.

You turned around slowly, each joint still aching from the fall earlier in the night. Was it that same night? It felt so long ago. Nothing felt like you had been on a carnival date earlier in the night, that you had been having fun with Wednesday and the gang less than eight hours ago. Or was it longer than that? Did it even matter anymore?

“Your principal wanted you to have your phone back,” he continued when you stayed silent. He smiled softly down at the phone in his hands before looking up and handing it back. “Your conversations are a bit concerning,” he said when your fingers brushed his to take it back. “I installed a program to track your activity.” You blinked once. “For your well-being.”

For my well-being. Right. Of course.

“You have a few unread messages,” your father called after you as you turned to walk back up the stairs. “You should let them know everything is alright.”

Be angry, a voice in the back of your head growled when Mabel continued to guide you through the now-unfamiliar corridors. It was a familiar voice, one that hadn’t reared its head in months, but you couldn’t quite place it. He went through your phone, so you need to get angry. No. No, you wouldn’t get angry. Why not? Your jaw clenched painfully. Nicky wouldn’t have gotten angry.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in the doorway of the room - your room - and looked sideways at Mabel. She looked older, more worn. Maybe it was just from working for your parents for so long. How was her son? Had he graduated college yet? He had wanted to be an engineer, if you remembered right. Why did she look so sad?

“I am truly sorry,” she said softly. “I cannot imagine your grief.”

No. No, she couldn’t imagine your grief. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to see him not even a week earlier, alive, and not knowing it would be the last time you saw him. She couldn’t fucking imagine what it was like and no one could fucking imagine what it was like.

The migraine throbbed again and you squeezed your eyes shut to try and ease it.

“The headaches will stop in time,” she said. Your eyes flew open. “They always have.”

“What?”

Mabel tilted her head and a crinkle formed between her eyes.

“Your headaches,” she said, her finger lifting to tap lightly against your left temple. “They always got worse when Nicky stopped suppressing.”

“Suppressing?”

Her sorrowful smile slipped into a frown.

"Yes," she said softly, "don't you remember?"

No.

"Well, I suppose that would defeat the point," she chuckled lightly. "He could suppress memories," she explained softly, gently, agonisingly. "He always chose the bad ones, of course." 

No. 

"I myself got a slight headache when he passed."

No.

"It's how I knew he was truly gone."

No!

"Y/N?"

You shoved past Mabel, forcing her back into the hall. The stairs passed under you four at a time until you were on the ground floor.

"Darling?-"

"-Where are you going?-"

"-It's 4 in the morning-"

"-Get back in the house."

Your parents' calls fell on deaf ears as you threw the front door open and stormed outside. Your feet picked up speed as you walked down the endless driveway. The moment they hit the pavement you broke out into a jog, then a sprint. Your shoes hit the pavement of the road in a steady rhythm.

"You really wanna know?" Nicky asked after taking another one of your chess pieces.

"You promised you would tell me," you said with a frown.

"How about I make it your graduation present," he teased. "Give you something to look forward to."

"Deal," you said with a smile. He knocked your king off the board.

The excessively large houses blurred as you ran down the street. Motion lights turned on and guard dogs barked when you passed by.

"That was the year they left us to fend for ourselves for the week," Nicky laughed with Yoko.

"I don't remember that," you said with a slight frown.

"You were, uh, too young," Nicky said with a smile and a pat on your back. "Not worth remembering anyway."

The houses thinned and were quickly replaced with trees. Your feet stumbled as pavement turned into dirt. Icy air froze your tired lungs, leaving a sensation of needles in your chest.

You pushed your feet faster.

"Nicky, I'm tired," you whined after tripping over your own feet again.

"Just a few more hours," he said. His shirt had finally dried and looked stiff. “Then we’ll be back at Nevermore.”

"You said that a few hours ago," you complained. "My skin is itchy."

"We'll wash it off later," he said. He wasn't even looking at you.

"Are they gonna find us?" You asked as you did a little jog to catch up to him and hold his hand.

"No," he said without hesitation. The dried blood was starting to flake off his forehead. The cut on his nose looked angry.

"Is this gonna give me bad dreams?" You asked in a small voice. He stopped in his tracks and picked you up, letting you crawl onto his back.

"Of course not," he said softly. "You won't even remember it."

The forest flew by. Each twig and branch that whipped across your face made you feel more and more alive. It was a feeling, and you needed a feeling. Anything, everything, whatever you could get.

Everything hurt. Oh god, it hurt so bad and you couldn’t scream.

“Hang on, kid, we’ve gotta get the door.”

“Where’s Nicky?” You asked. Your tongue felt heavy, like lead.

“Gotta get you first,” a man’s voice said. “Stay still.”

“Nicky?” You slurred; the words tasted of copper.

Your eyes fell to the top of the car that was now underneath you. It was covered in something shiny. Something red.

Your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t take the cold, couldn’t take the exertion, the stress, none of it. And it felt. You could feel them. The more you ran, the more it hurt and soon you could focus on the pain in your side instead of the pain in your head.

Memory suppression.

There was no thought about stopping, your feet just slowed their movements until you collapsed to your knees on the cold, damp forest floor. You felt the end of a stick dig into your hand, splitting the skin. The blood was warm; it was comforting. Each gasping breath felt like you were inhaling shards of glass, each one more painful than the last.

And it felt.

“I feel angry,” you said as you sat at the top of the wall and watched Nicky continue to climb.

“You always feel angry,” he grunted. He was stuck. As usual.

“I don’t know why,” you sighed. “I can’t think of anything that would make me angry.”

“It’ll go away,” he said as his face finally pulled up and you could look him in the eyes. “Good kids don’t stay angry.”

“Am I a good kid?” You asked softly. He smiled.

“The best.”

You let out the most feral, unhinged, excruciating scream you could possibly produce. It hurt your throat and left it feeling raw.

But it felt.

The sun had started to rise before you could get up from your position on the ground. Your knees were stiff and soaked to the bone and the stick in your hand had broken off. It would leave a splinter that would need to be dug out. There was a lingering ache in your throat and lungs and that migraine still wouldn’t go away. And when you started walking mindlessly back to the house, you could feel blisters on your feet and heels; a few of them even popped.

But at least it felt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?-”

“-We were about to call the police-”

“-You look like a stray dog-”

“-We just cleaned the entry-”

“-Where do you think you’re going?”

You couldn’t recall getting home. But you continued walking through the house as your parents called after you, practically dragging yourself up the stairs until you made it into your room. The door fell shut and the lock clicked into place and all you could do was fall back to your knees.

The cold wooden floor didn’t feel so bad. At least it felt.

—---

You wished you were numb again.

The day of mourning came and went, each second testing your patience and wearing you thin. You hadn’t slept, hadn’t showered, hadn’t even gotten up from your spot on the floor. You could hear your phone vibrating on the wood, almost loud enough to wake the dead. Maybe it would wake Nicky, you thought before finally checking it to make it stop.

Not even noon and you had 17 missed calls, 72 texts, and a plethora of messages from the vast array of other social media outlets. A large number were from Yoko, then Ajax, the rest of the group, and your family back home. Two or three calls from Momma Weems and your family. But your eyes started to sting when you saw the name for two messages.

Nicky.

You clicked on them immediately, desperately hoping to see what he had said. Something in the back of your head was screaming at you not to open them, not to get your hopes up. Your eyes trailed over the messages, reading them once, twice, three times before it finally clicked.

It wasn’t Nicky.

You had given Wednesday his phone.

You hadn’t ever changed the name.

Nicky: Thing wishes to know if you’ve made it back safe.

Nicky: I wish to know as well.

Fuck. Now you were making Wednesday feel things too? Why would she even care anyway.  It wasn’t like she loved you anyway, wasn’t like she even really cared. You knew she didn’t do love, she had said it to her mother time and time again. Why would she care if you were safe.

Didn’t she know Nicky was the one who needed the attention?

You growled at nothing in particular before throwing your phone across the room, hearing the screen shatter when it hit the wall. The sound made you flinch and you instantly felt that guilty feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. It vibrated again.

You didn’t check it.

—---

“You need to eat something before you go,” Mabel urged you once again as you finished buttoning up your shirt.

“‘m not hungry,” you mumbled. Your fingers faltered on the buttons; it wasn’t fitting like it was supposed to.

“You haven’t eaten in five days,” she said in a far softer voice. It was humiliating.

“Too busy planning,” you said, finally deciding to give up and instead throwing a jacket over the crooked, too-big shirt. “I’ll eat when I’m dead.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

You moved past Mabel and went down the stairs to meet up with your parents. It was the day to finalise plans; something that you knew was going to cause argument after argument. There had already been too many screaming matches the past few days, none of which ever came to a definitive conclusion.

Maybe today would be different.

“That jacket is unprofessional,” your mother said with a slight frown.

“The shirt doesn’t fit,” you said without looking up at her. Your fingers toyed with the shattered phone in your pocket.

“We will have it tailored,” your mother sighed, “again.”

“We will discuss it later,” your father said as he ushered everyone to the car. “We need to get going so we won’t be late.”

You sat in the back with the both of them while Jenkins started the drive to the funeral home. With a thunk, your head hit the window and you looked out at the houses passing by. The harness was pulled painfully tight and your wings were already stiff, but you didn’t care. At least it felt, right?

The phone in your pocket vibrated, and you pulled it out slowly to look at the two new messages.

Yoko: You don’t have to answer me, but answer Wednesday. She’s losing her mind

Ash: just saw your pop in town. told me about nicky. im so sorry

You exhaled through your nose and slid the phone back into your pocket without answering. There was no time to answer anyone anyway, you had planning to do. Although you shouldn’t be, he was still the source of the migraine that refused to go away.

Memory suppression. Just the thought made you sick and your mouth feel like you had swallowed cotton. How could he do that? How could he just hide your memories from you? Your own memories. He had no fucking right, those were your memories, not his.

“We’re here.”

You pulled your head back from the window and blinked a few times, doing your best to hide the anger. As you uncurled your fists, you could feel your nails pulling out of the skin; you had left four perfect crescent shaped cuts on your palms. Thankfully your pants were black, and you wiped the slightest bit of blood off on the legs.

The next thing you remember is sitting in one of the chairs across from the funeral director. You couldn’t recall getting out of the car, or introducing yourself. Hopefully you had done well or you would get an earful once you left.

“Today you will select the casket and can order the headstone,” the funeral director said as he slid over a bunch of paper.

“Casket?” You asked, turning your head to look at your parents. “We never agreed on burial.”

“Your mother and I have made the executive decision,” your father said with a smile.

“Then make a different one,” you said with a slightly raised voice.

“I’ll give you three a moment,” the funeral director said with a professional smile. Everyone stayed silent as he grabbed a few things and left, shutting the door behind him.

“Do not question our decisions in front of strangers,” your father said, his polite smile falling immediately.

“He didn’t want to be buried,” you said. Your chest felt tight, like it was caught in vice grips.

“He shall be buried with the other Smiths,” your mother said while you chuckled humourlessly. You pushed your chair back and stood up, walking to the other side of the table and pacing.

“He said he didn’t want to be buried,” you argued; the migraine was back. “Said it creeped him out and he would rather be cremated.”

“We never heard him say such a thing,” your mother said with a sigh.

“Maybe because you were never there,” you scoffed before freezing in your tracks.

Instantly the atmosphere in the room changed from uneasiness to aggression. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck and arms stand up and your breath caught in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I beg your pardon?”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry-”

“-We were never there?” Your father asked, louder this time. 

You could hear the chair scrape against the floor and you turned your body to face him. He looked furious and the migraine came back stronger than before. Almost like someone was pushing glass into each individual fold of your brain. You could feel your palms getting sweaty.

Fight back, the voice in your head said. He abandoned us. Fight. Back.

“You weren’t there,” you said with a shaky voice. Be confident. “You left us and didn’t come back.”

“Did you ever stop to ask yourself why we would even consider doing such a thing?” Your father asked.

“Let’s focus on the burial,” your mother cut in, “we can talk about this later.”

“It’s because you produced two freak kids,” you said, your voice stronger, more confident. Your father walked around the table to come closer. Keep fighting. “Could you imagine if that got out?” He looked furious. “If anyone discovered that the high and mighty Smith family had two Outcast kids that they hid away-”

-your head jerked to the right as the slap echoed in the otherwise silent room. Keep it together, you thought as your lower lip started to quiver. You held back the stinging in your eyes as you stood up taller and turned back around to face him. It was times like this where you wished you were smaller so you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“You will never say such a thing again,” he said as he jabbed a finger into your chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

Hit him back.

“Crystal,” you whispered through clenched teeth.

“He will be buried,” your father said with another jab. “That’s final.”

You could feel the persistent stinging of your cheek as you all sat down and the funeral director came back in. He didn’t comment. You didn’t prompt him to.

—---

Mabel had worked for the Smith family for 23 years, she knew when to hold her tongue. But when you all came back from the funeral home and she saw the new blooming bruise on your cheek, she felt a mix of anger and pity. She wouldn’t pretend you were the best at holding your tongue; you never had been. But your father also allowed you to push his buttons until he snapped.

She didn’t have to ask to know that was exactly what happened.

The days leading up to the funeral reminded her an awful lot of when you were younger, with the obvious differences. You were still reckless, almost even careless. Accidentally breaking things, roaming around the house without direction, doing anything and everything your heart desired without seeking permission or forgiveness.

There were times when she would be cleaning and would hear the sound of the grand piano lingering in the air, and she would sneak around the corner to watch you. Back ramrod straight, slender fingers poised perfectly over the keys, face completely neutral as you read the music on the stand. It was beautiful to hear you play again, and the occasional jazz tune that would sound when you were certain your mother wasn’t around was all the more enjoyable because of the slightest smile on your face.

Other times Mabel would catch you leaving the house without warning, not coming back until late in the night with dazed eyes and dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Those were the nights she would gently take you by the shoulders and guide you back up to your room. You did nothing to assist her as she cleaned you up and dressed you in something comfortable so she could put you to bed.

She did her best to ignore each and every new bruise or scratch or scar.

It was impossible to get you to eat. You dropped weight faster than she could keep track of, and no matter how many meals she left in your room, they always went untouched. She tried to keep small snacks like protein bars in your room in the hopes that you would eat them, but she had no way to tell if you did or not.

On evenings where guests would come over and you would be “encouraged” to socialise, she took note of the amount of drinks you would have each evening. It was always far too many, and she and Jenkins would end up carrying you back up to your bed before everyone had left for the night. You would always accept your scolding with a grimace and two Tylenol the next morning and go about your day.

You would pick fights with your parents. Never over anything important, always little things and they were starting to pick up on that as well. At first they had fought back, getting into screaming matches with you and sending you off to your room. But then you tried to start fights over the silverware, or the way your shoes fit, or even how bright the lights were in the room. It didn’t take long for your parents to stop arguing back and just ignore you.

Mabel noticed that almost made you more angry.

Other times, your parents would nit pick at you as well. Over your hair, or the style of clothing you wore. If you had worn the same shirt twice or tracked mud into the house. Your speech quickly became more "professional" and you selected your words carefully in an effort to retaliate. It was far less outwardly destructive, but Mabel could still see the damage it inflicted reflect in your eyes.

But through all of your anger and self destruction and attempts to grab anyone’s attention, you always treated her and Jenkins with the utmost kindness and respect. That was what reminded her of when you were young. It was in the gentle “thank yous” or the soft smiles when she would hand you something. The questions about her son, or about Jenkins’ wife and cats, or any of the neighbours.

She knew you were a good kid. She knew, and Jenkins knew, and that was probably what hurt them the most through it all. You were a good kid with no one to truly lean on and no one to help guide you through this loss. And they knew it was just going to build and build and build inside you until it exploded.

The day before the funeral was the day you would see Nicky for the last time, and Mabel could see the fear and anger in your eyes. She and Jenkins had fully prepared themselves for your mental state when you got back, but even they couldn’t have prepared themselves fully.

You came into the house dazed, not hearing a single thing your parents were saying. But then it was like a switch had been flipped and you clenched your jaw before making a snide remark back to your mother. It didn’t take long to turn into a screaming match, and Mabel and Jenkins watched in horror as you balled up your fist and swung at your father.

The fear in his own eyes was evident even though your fist connected with the brick wall beside him; whether on purpose or not, you had missed him completely. Tears fell from your eyes and you screamed again as your father pulled you into a hug. Mabel watched helplessly as you tried to push him away before finally giving in and crying into his shoulder.

You held onto him like your life depended on it as your blood dripped down the pristine, white walls of the house.

“Your tie is crooked,” Mabel told you on the morning of the funeral. You had been struggling to get ready for over an hour, and no amount of makeup could hide the bags under your eyes or the lingering bruise on your cheek.

“So are these fucking buttons,” you mumbled as you ripped your dress shirt open to start over. She could feel you getting angry again. It was probably from the lack of sleep.

Or lack of food.

Or lack of help in general.

“Stay still,” Mabel huffed, setting the laundry basket down on your bed and standing in front of you.

You sighed, but remained still as she got to work on your shirt. It had been tailored only a few days before and still seemed a bit big again; it broke her heart. But she did her best to ignore it and focused on buttoning up your shirt properly. Your violent treatment had loosened two or three buttons, but she certainly wasn’t going to bring that up to you.

“How have your school ties survived this long if you can’t do them yourself?” She asked, her eyes darting up to meet yours. She almost thought you smiled.

“Wednesday always fixes them for me,” you said. You didn’t look down, but that was alright, she was focused on your tie anyway.

“You like this girl?” She asked softly. If your parents heard, they would have started screaming.

“A lot,” you answered just as softly. “I think I love her.”

“That’s a big emotion for you,” she said not unkindly.

“I hope I don’t fuck it up,” you whispered.

“You won’t,” she said with a smile as she patted your tie down. “You’re all set.”

You turned to look up at the mirror, eyes squinting and your jaw clenching before you relaxed. Mabel kept her smile to herself; she didn’t want to unintentionally encourage you to fight the reflection. You stood up straight and pressed your tie flat once again before slipping the suit jacket on.

“Thank you, Mabel,” you said softly, and you quickly leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Your lips were chapped, but it was expected.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” she said with a smile. You smiled back once, halfheartedly, before walking out of the room.

She really hoped your anger wouldn’t explode at the funeral.

—---

The whole car ride made Wednesday feel sick to her stomach. It had been a short flight down to D.C. and now she, Thing, Yoko, and Weems were finishing the trip with the short drive to the funeral. The rest of the gang had opted to stay at Nevermore for the time being; they didn't want to overwhelm you. The funeral was supposed to be outside, or so your mother had said, but it looked like rain. Usually perfect for such an occasion.

Just not this one.

She checked the phone again, hoping you had finally answered. It was a foolish hope, she knew that much, but it still resided in her chest. No one had heard anything from you since you had left the harvest festival, not even Yoko or your family. She shouldn’t have expected you to answer her of all people.

But she hoped you would have.

“We shall give her space,” Weems said once she pulled the car through the gates to the cemetery. It was connected to the reception hall, where everyone would go after the service.

It reminded Wednesday an awful lot of the cemetery back home.

“Except you, Addams,” Yoko said, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts.

“Why me?” She asked.

“You give her peace,” Weems answered.

Well, that was comforting; surprising, Wednesday knew. To know that everyone else could see her effect on you; had they seen your effect on her? They probably had. Enid certainly had, and that was more than enough torture. But if they said she gave you peace, then who was she to argue.

Once the car was parked, everyone got out. Thing climbed onto her shoulder as she unfolded the umbrella. She waited patiently as Weems and Yoko got out as well, each holding their own umbrellas, before they started the short walk to the grave.

It seemed the rain had ruined the original funeral plans, seeing how no one was sitting anymore and the chairs were in the process of being removed. Wednesday and the small group stood off to the side and waited. They hadn’t exactly been invited, but who was going to stop them? Especially at a funeral.

You were one of the lead pallbearers, the one on the front left. Wednesday felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight of you; dark eyes, clothes hanging off your smaller frame, your wings invisible beneath your suit jacket. But the worst part was you didn’t seem sad. No, you looked angry.

After lowering the casket back to the ground, you hesitated, your fingers running across the wood before you walked to stand near your parents. They tried to offer you an umbrella but you ignored them. You simply stood in the rain, looking down at Nicky’s casket as an old, unsteady man started talking.

Wednesday simply watched you the whole time. Watched the difference in your posture, your back straight and head up. She took note of the way you clasped your hands in front of you even though she could see the scabbed over skin pulled taut across your knuckles. She watched the muscles in your jaw tighten and relax, over and over and over as you blinked too many times to keep the tears at bay.

You were upset, rightfully so, but Wednesday couldn’t have found you more beautiful. Not because you were suffering, not because you were struggling, but because you were. You were handling everything so well, at least on the outside, and she couldn’t help but admire the way the rain fell down your face, caressing the skin in comfort.

Your family, you included, looked impeccable standing there together. Wednesday could only imagine how powerful all of you would have looked if the four of you had been together; you, Nicky, and your parents. Standing there in perfectly tailored suits, manicured to perfection, neutral expressions on your faces. Is that how you would have looked if you had stayed with them? Would she have had the same pull toward you?

She waited until the funeral itself was over before making her way to your side. Everyone else - including Thing - had gone inside to escape the rain and start the reception, but you didn’t move a muscle. Her shoulder brushed against your arm when she got close enough, and for a moment your shoulders fell and your jaw unclenched.

“I’m tired, Wends,” you said in such a quiet voice that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear you over the rain. “And I feel alone.”

Time to use the comfort teachings everyone had been helping her with for the past two weeks. They had drilled it into her head time and time again, through all hours of the day and night until she could recite it properly. It was robotic sounding, she knew that much, but it was a start. She hoped it would work.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Wednesday said. You stiffened beside her. “But you are not alone.”

“Did Yoko teach you that?” You asked, immediately catching on. She should have known better.

“I-,” don’t lie, “-yes,” she admitted. “I’m not particularly adept at comfort.”

“I don’t want comfort,” you said, turning to look at her. The rain had finally started washing off the makeup from your face and she thought she could see something on your cheek. “I don’t want pity. I want you to be real with me.”

“Real?” Wednesday inquired with furrowed brows.

“Yes, Wednesday, real,” you huffed. “Be real with me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

Now that you had put her on the spot, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She was thinking of the now-obvious bruise on your cheek and where it had possibly come from. She was thinking of the bags under your eyes if you had been getting enough sleep, which clearly you hadn’t.

Part of her was thinking of her own parents, as unusual as it would be. How they had fallen in love at a funeral and had confessed their undying devotion to each other. Funerals had always been a romantic event for the Addams family, and she was aware this was for your brother, but she couldn’t deny she knew what her parents had meant every time they reminisced.

Oh. That’s what she was thinking.

“I am thinking…,” she paused, blinking at you twice, three times and looking away. You wanted real. She looked back up at you to meet your probing gaze. “I love you.”

Your brows knit together as you looked away from her for a moment.

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You asked what I was thinking,” Wednesday clarified slowly. “I was simply thinking that I-”

“-Don’t say it again,” you interrupted.

And right there, right then, Wednesday felt her cold dead heart break in her chest.

“You did not just say that,” you said with a huff. “Did you really just confess?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said indignantly. “It’s what I was thinking at the moment.”

“We’re at my brother’s funeral, Wednesday,” you said, far louder this time. “Do you really think this is the time?”

“You asked,” she said again. “Why would you ask if you didn’t want to know?”

“I can’t,” you said as you held your hands up and started backing up. “I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Wednesday let her umbrella fall as she watched you walk off toward the reception hall with hands on your head, covering your ears. She could feel the rain slowly seeping through her coat, but all she could really focus on was you. Only you, and how her father had been right.

Love was agony.

—---

You were going to be sick. You could feel it in your chest, your lungs, your stomach. Your mouth wouldn’t stop salivating and you were going to be sick. How could she say that? How could she tell you that now? Your palms were sweaty when you dragged them down your face, ignoring the makeup that you wiped off with it.

It should have been exciting to hear Wednesday say such a thing. She was capable of love, a genuine love, and had even felt so strongly as to verbally tell you as such. And it had been ruined because they had killed Nicky and now you couldn’t even enjoy the single fucking good thing in your life.

You felt sick.

Your parents were standing in the middle of the room, talking and laughing with some lawyer or congressman or senator or whoever the fuck else could put up with them long enough to talk. It was like they weren’t even upset, they weren’t even devastated that their son, their first born, was currently being buried six feet under. Didn’t they care?

You felt sick.

Weems, Yoko, and Thing were off to the side, talking with each other. They looked up, almost as if sensing your staring, and gave you sad smiles. They pity you, the voice in your head spat in disgust. You frowned at the thought and turned around, looking for someone, anyone to talk to. Hell, at that point you would’ve taken the old man off to the side that was giving you a look that made you rather uncomfortable.

Your eyes fell on a couple standing next to the fireplace, talking quietly with each other. Something about them seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place from where. But you stopped caring when you saw the subtle cloud of smoke fall from the taller one’s lips and you quickly made your way over.

“Mind if I steal a hit?” You asked when you got nearby. The taller one smiled sadly.

“Sure,” they said as they handed the vape over.

You grabbed it and brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. It scalded your throat and stung your lungs as you held it in for far too long before slowly exhaling. You watched the smoke as it evaporated into the air, leaving nothing but a sickeningly sweet smell in its place.

“That’s disgusting,” you mumbled as you handed it back to them. The shorter one still hadn’t looked up from the hole they were staring into the ground.

“It’s marshmallow,” they chuckled.

“Like I said,” you said, “disgusting.”

“You’re Nicky’s sister,” they said with a half smile, avoiding your gaze by looking out at the crowd again.

“You’re a couple of strangers,” you said.

“I’m Casey,” they chuckled lightly, “and this is Devon.”

Devon finally looked up and eyed you up and down before looking back to the crowd with the slightest hint of a sneer. If you hadn’t spent so much time with Wednesday, you would’ve missed it. What could they possibly be sneering at you for? It was your brother’s funeral. You felt the muscles in your jaw tighten.

“He talked about you a lot,” Casey said softly.

“How would you know?” You asked way more harshly than necessary. Part of you didn’t care. Okay, none of you cared. “He hasn’t exactly done much talking recently.”

“The three of us were… close,” they said with a distracted nod.

“He was in a coma for four years,” you scoffed, “how close could you be.” You reached over and took the vape from their hand and brought it to your mouth for another hit.

“We were his partners.”

You choked on the smoke, leaving your throat raw and scratchy. Your head spun to look at Casey and Devon, eying them to see any sort of discrepancies in their body language. If Wednesday had taught you one thing, it was how to tell if someone was lying. Avoiding eye contact, licking their lips, anything.

There wasn’t a single sign.

He hadn’t told you he was dating anyone. Why hadn’t he told you? Surely he would have, you two told each other everything. He was your big brother, for fuck sake, he would have told you. Right?

Right?

“We loved him too,” Casey said softly; they still weren’t looking at you.

He lied. He fucking lied.

You looked out at the crowd and took another hit of the vape. Then another. And another. And a fourth one for good measure. It felt like your lungs were going to burn themselves to embers, but you didn’t care. At least it felt. After a fifth hit, you slipped it back into Casey’s hand and continued looking out at the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice now hoarse and deeper than usual.

“We’ll get through it,” they said. “He’ll get his justice.”

They know he deserves justice too, the voice in the back of your head said. You couldn’t argue with it. But what else could you say? It was too much and you had too many questions. Where had they met? How long had they known Nicky? How long had it been going on?

You felt sick.

You didn’t bother saying anything else to them before walking off, walking through a haze until you ended up with the group your parents were talking to. A few of them tried talking to you, giving their most insincere condolences before going back to their conversations.

It was disgusting. Watching them laugh and talk as if you weren’t standing at a funeral reception. As if you hadn’t been standing at Nicky’s literal graveside less than an hour ago. Heartless, the voice said, they killed him and are using it as an excuse to socialise. 

“I can’t recall what caused his condition,” one of the men said when there was a lull in the conversation.

“A car wreck,” your father said with a few mindless nods of his head.

“That’s tragic,” a woman said. “Drunk driver?”

“An Outcast, actually,” your father answered.

Wait.

“What did you say?” You asked, drawing everyone’s attention.

You felt something tug on your pants, and your eyes darted down for just long enough to see Thing. He was wearing a little black bowtie around one of his fingers. But you weren’t focusing on him; you were too busy thinking about what your father had said.

“I said an Outcast caused the wreck that killed my son,” your father continued. His back straightened as he kept eye contact with you.

“Abominations, the lot of them,” a man huffed before taking another drink of the wine in his glass.

Thing pulled at your pants leg again. You kicked him away, listened to the subtle sound of him scuttling across the floor. Thankfully no one else had noticed him.

“An Outcast didn’t kill him,” you bit back. “You two were the ones that pulled his life support.”

The group around you fell silent, now beyond interested in the conversation. Any chance to get a good helping of gossip, of course. That was how all socialites worked, especially when another socialite was involved. In this case it was your parents; they were going to be the talk of the town for a year.

“No son of mine should have to exist as a vegetable simply because we couldn’t be merciful,” your mother said. “Especially because of some sinful abomination.”

“Stop calling them abominations,” you growled through clenched teeth.

Your fingers were starting to ache as they curled into fists at your side. Your pulse was rushing in your ear and for a moment, you felt your chest was going to explode. That your heart would beat faster and faster, harder and harder until it finally broke free.

You took a single step closer.

“If it were up to me, I’d have them all euthanised,” your father said as he smiled at you with his “show everyone we’re perfect” smile. You took another step forward until you were almost directly in front of him. “The world would be a much better place.”

The sounds of the world muffled in your ears, and all you could hear was the sound of your own breathing. Erratic, shallow, rushed. Something dripped down your neck and your jaw felt like it was going to crack under the pressure. That migraine came roaring back as you stared into your father’s eyes.

Do it.

Your fist connected with his nose before you could even comprehend what was happening. The people around you gasped and stepped back as your father fell to the ground. One of his hands attempted to stop the flow of blood while he held the other out in front of him.

But you saw red.

You knelt down on top of him, only one thing on your mind as you grabbed his shirt collar. He almost looked remorseful for a moment. But only for a moment. Again. You tightened your grip on his collar as you swung again. And again. And again.

Harder.

You could hear Nicky in the back of your head, screaming and pounding against the inside of your skull. Telling you to stop, begging you to let your father go. Each time Nicky pounded against your skull, you threw another punch. And another. Something wet slid down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop.

Something wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. Hard. The wind flew out of your lungs and you instantly grabbed onto the arms around you. You tried to pull them off but your hands were slick and you couldn’t get a good hold. You were stuck.

“Y/N, stop,” the voice said into your ear. Weems?

“Say it again,” you shouted at your father who was frozen on the ground, bruised eyes focused on you. “Say it again, you fucking coward.”

“Breathe,” another voice said before someone stepped in front of you. Yoko?

“You're defending the group that killed your brother,” your mother said as she knelt down to look at your father’s injuries. He was wheezing and covered in blood. "You should do this to them instead."

You tried to lunge forward again, and the arms around your waist almost gave out. You threw a leg out, hoping to kick him while he was down. Just one more. But the arms around your waist tightened again, and Yoko grabbed your flailing feet until you were being carried out of the room.

“Don’t you fucking touch them,” you shouted as you continued attempting to fight and Weems and Yoko struggled to carry you. “I’ll fucking kill you next time.”

You felt sick.

The cold air and rain hit you like a brick wall when you were finally outside. The arms and hands holding you back let go and you fell onto the ground as you stared at the now-closed doors of the reception hall. Your frantic breathing was the only thing you could hear.

“Breathe.”

Another face came into view, and almost instantly your breath caught in your throat. Wednesday’s eyes were wide and focused on your face. They were bloodshot; why were they bloodshot? Her hands were poised to touch you, to check you for injuries, but the moment you felt her hand on your arm you flinched.

You saw red. Only red. You wanted to hurt something. Someone. You didn’t give a fuck who it was, you just wanted to make someone else hurt the way you were hurting. To swing at whoever was closest.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you said as you crawled back across the ground. Wednesday immediately let go.

I don’t want to hurt you, you thought as you pushed yourself up to your feet until you could start stumbling away. Shaky fingers unbuttoned your jacket and ripped the buttons off your shirt until you could reach the harness. They were calling after you; you didn’t know what they were saying. The harness hit the ground and the moment your wings unfurled, you jumped into the air.

You had nearly hurt Wednesday.

You felt sick.

everyone but her pt.21

Summary: You get a hit with a bit of reality and go back to apologise to Wednesday. But it might be too late, and now everything is catching back up with you. And this time, you don't have Nicky to keep you out of trouble.

Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: swearing, stages of grief, implications of self-destructive behaviours, flashbacks 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 @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

You felt the sticks snap under your feet as you landed haphazardly, quickly leaning against a tree so you could dry heave. Again. It was becoming something of a routine from the past five or so hours. After stopping at the house to get your things and say goodbye to Mabel and Jenkins - who promptly gave you hugs and cheek kisses. It made your stomach turn and you wanted to scream at them to please stop, it’s all my fault - before flying off.

In the grand scheme of things, you were only able to fly for about 20 minutes at a time before having to land. At first you panicked when your stomach turned, and it hurt because you hadn’t eaten and you were already exhausted. But then after another 20 minutes or so of shaky flying, you had to land and heave again. And so the vicious cycle continued.

Your skin was sticky with sweat by the time you walked through the gate at home. There was a shakiness to your legs that, for the life of you, you couldn’t get rid of. It was humiliating and you felt weak. Weak because you had just ruined everything and now you were running away? Running back home to Momma and Pop? What, were you going to tuck your tail between your legs next?

“Y/N!”

The push against your stomach was stronger than it should have been. You stumbled back, your arms windmilling in an attempt to keep you on your feet. Your duffel bag hit the dirt with a *thud* and you managed to get your feet back underneath you just enough to see your faux attacker.

And it broke your heart.

“You promised,” Hailey shouted. Not her usual yelling or griping. She shouted. With tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“Hail-”

“-you promised he would wake up!” She continued, stepping closer. Her claws were out.

“I didn’t-”

“-and you didn’t even tell us!” She pushed against your stomach again; your feet were better planted this time. “We had to find out from Auntie Rissa!”

“Hailey!” Alex was running across the yard, the other kids fast on his tail. “Stop!”

“You promised,” Hailey cried. She swiped with her claws once. You jumped back but still felt the slightest sting on your left hip. “You promised and you let him die!”

Oh. Oh.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Alex huffed as he did his best to get in between you and Hailey. His sunglasses were riding low on his nose, but he quickly pushed them back up. “You know better.”

“Your best friend came home,” Hailey shouted at Alex. They were starting to square off. Oh no. “Mine didn’t.” She was crying. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey-”

“-Why should she get to come home when Nicky can’t?-”

“-You know it’s not that simple-”

“-Why does she get to be happy when he can’t even breathe?-”

“-Don’t be such a bitch-”

“-Enough!”

You stepped in between the both of them, your arms outstretched on either side to push them further apart. It was impeccable timing, really. You managed to step in between them right as Hailey swiped again and Alex threw a punch. The claws swiped across your forearm, and Alex tried to curb his hit but still managed to catch you in the shoulder.

You felt sick.

Everyone else had finally gotten closer, now just watching the scene unfold before them. You looked up into Pop’s eyes, trying your best to convey everything you were feeling. Scared, sick, angry, frustrated, numb. Everything and nothing all at once. You wanted to cry, and throw up, and scream, and hurt.

“It’s your fault,” Hailey said around a sob that she no longer bothered hiding. “It should have been you-”

“-Hailey,” Momma chastised immediately, but Hailey was already running off into the woods around the barn. A pained howl quickly followed.

“Come on, Nicky,” Hailey begged, “you promised to sing karaoke with me.”

“It’s 3am, Hails,” Nicky chuckled. Your eyes slowly opened to see them snuggling on the couch in the basement.

You couldn’t say much; you were cuddling with Alex on the other couch.

“Then at least sneak some ice cream with me?” Hailey asked again. She was using her puppy dog pout. Smart move, it always worked on Nicky.

“Fine,” he sighed, but he was still smiling. “But only because we’re best friends.”

“You love me most,” she said as she pulled him up from the couch.

“I suppose I do,” he laughed again.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Alex said, his own voice sounding watery. “It was an accident.”

You felt sick.

“I’ll go get Hailey-”

“-Let her run it off,” Pop interrupted Momma softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alex, grab her bag.” He looked around at everyone else, including the nearly-crying kids. “Everyone else git back inside.”

A chorus of “yes Pops” filled the suffocatingly silent air. Your arms slowly fell back to your side as everyone moved, leaving the area as quickly as possible. No one wanted to stay; you didn’t blame them. You didn’t want to stay either. You didn’t want to be anywhere.

“You gonna hurl?” Pop asked as he stepped closer to you, his hand patting your shoulder a little rougher than necessary. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“‘m fine,” you said.

“Don’t hurl on my boots,” Pop warned.

As if on cue, you turned just in time to double over. Nothing came up; there was nothing to come up. But it still took you a few minutes of dry heaving and Pop patting your back harshly before you could stand back up on shaky legs. You just used the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your chin.

“Come inside,” Pop said softly. You don’t deserve soft. “You need food and some sleep.”

“‘m not hungry-”

“-I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not,” Pop interrupted. “You’re walkin’ like a newborn foal.”

“I can’t- I- I can’t eat,” you whispered. You couldn’t look into his eyes; couldn’t bear to see the pity. “I can’t.”

The stammer was embarrassing enough on its own, but the way Pop’s grip on your shoulder softened made your stomach turn and a lump form in your throat. Don’t touch me. But he did, and he was so incredibly soft, and you wanted to scream.

“Come on, baby bird,” he said softly as he pulled you into his side and started guiding you to the house. “Let’s get you home.”

You ate what Abuelita put in front of you. If anyone had asked what it was, you couldn’t have told them, but you ate it. Ate until you felt your stomach turn, then excused yourself and went straight to the bathroom. The food didn’t stay in your stomach, but at least you ate.

Momma let you sleep in her room for the night; no one would bother you in there. And you laid there on the bed and the pillows smelled like home and you didn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Nicky. Or your father’s bloody face, eyes staring up at you in absolute fear.

You wanted him to fear you. But you didn’t. All you wanted was for him to hold you and say he was sorry and that he loved you. You wanted both of them to say they loved you and they were proud of you. Not that they were scared of you, or they hated you, or they blamed you for everything.

You just wanted them to want you.

Turn it off, that voice in your head said again. It sounded a little different, but still familiar. You didn’t want to turn everything off, you wanted to feel. But the words themselves buried the anger and sadness under layer after layer of numbness. Buried it until you felt nothing, and nothing went through your head except unbearable silence.

You couldn’t help it.

It was early in the morning by the time you stumbled out of Momma’s and Pop’s room. Everyone was still asleep, thankfully, and you didn’t want to be there when they woke up. You had heard Hailey come home last night and you just couldn’t be there when she got up.

It should have been you.

You left the house without any warning. The fall air was cool and the trees were a beautiful orange and yellow and red and it made you sick. Fall was Nicky’s favourite time of year, and it was so perfect out, and he couldn’t even enjoy it. A stinging sensation settled in the back of your eyes and a lump lodged itself in your throat as you started running.

It left you shaky and the cold air stung your lungs, but you still ran. Down the dirt road, into the woods and up the small hill that led to the creek. The babbling brook would normally be soothing, easing you into a calm that could only come from the outside. But today, all it did was make you angry. Angry because your feet had carried you here when you didn’t want to be here.

You couldn’t bear to be in Nicky’s favourite place.

A scream wanted to tear its way up your throat, but you wouldn’t let it. You didn’t, because if you kept it in then you could suffer a little bit too. It would continue to rage and tear you apart from the inside out. If you were lucky, maybe it would do more than that and you could prove how sorry you were.

Your eyes stung when you finally collapsed near the riverbank. The ground was cold and muddy but truthfully? You couldn’t give a damn. You were still in those fucking suit pants and dressy undershirt, and you didn’t give a damn that they were soaking through with freezing water.

The frogs and birds kept you company. Croaking by your leg while the brook continued to flow steadily in front of you. Your wings weighed heavy on your back, forcing you to hunch your shoulders in an attempt to ease the weight. It didn’t. The muscles in your back ached and it was good. Pain was good.

“It’s too quiet,” you huffed as you threw another rock into the river. The *splunk* was pretty satisfying.

“That’s the point,” Nicky said. He was laying on the riverbank with hands behind his head. His eyes were closed and his face was illuminated by the sun shining through the leaves above.

“You like listening to nature?” You asked; your fingers were digging through the mud for another rock.

“It’s relaxing,” He said with a smile. “Maybe you'll learn some patience.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

You didn’t look up but felt the body sit beside you, her arm brushing against yours only briefly. It sent a shiver down your spine and your eyes fell shut for a moment. Only for a moment. When they opened again, you looked back out at the river. It was too quiet.

You felt numb.

“Hailey told me you were out here,” Ash whispered. Please shut up. “She wanted me to check on you.” Of course she did.

"Go away, Ash," you said just as quietly.

"All due respect, sweetheart, I'm stayin," she answered. "I know you, and the last thing you need is to be alone."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You asked. "You never used to care this much." It was a low blow and you knew it. Your eyes travelled down to the mud by your freezing legs. Without hesitation, your fingers dug in, searching blindly for something to grab.

"I grew up a little," Ash said with a light chuckle.

You hummed in response. It wasn't like you were really in the mood to talk to her anyway, and she probably knew it. Something hard stopped your digging and you slowly excavated it, lifting your hand to show off a rock. Simple, grey, jagged. You halfheartedly tossed it into the water and got to digging again.

"How's that girl from your school?" Ash asked after a few minutes of silence. "The one you brought home a few months ago."

"Small talk isn't necessary," you said quickly. "It's not even wanted-"

"-You can't push me away this time, Johnson," she cut in. "It worked before but it won't work now." You found another rock.

“Or you could just go hang out with Johnny,” you grumbled when Ash sighed. “Clearly he’s better company.”

“He’s my best friend,” she shot back. “I can have friends, can’t I?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a shrug. You weren’t looking at her. “You can hang out with him while I sit here and worry about my brother who's still in a coma.”

“You’re such a dick,” Ash said quickly. “You know that’s now what I mean.”

“Just leave.”

“Gladly.”

“So how is she?”

“I don’t know.” You threw the rock into the river. “Think I fucked it up already.”

“You tend to do that,” she said with a soft chuckle. Your fingers were already in the mud. “Wanna talk about it?”

No, you thought. But yes. The look of absolute pain on Wednesday’s face when you had turned away after she had confessed. Fuck, she had confessed. She had done it and you hadn’t even had the good sense to say anything positive. You were more than aware of how difficult it was for her to express emotions, but after this? You’d be lucky if she even looked at you again.

“She told me she loved me yesterday,” you said softly, your eyes travelling down to the mud. Still no rocks.

“At a funeral?” Ash scoffed.

“Her parents confessed at a funeral,” you said simply with a shrug. There was a beat of silence.

“She looks like her parents confessed at a funeral,” she finally said in a hushed voice, almost like she was experiencing a new revelation.

It almost made you laugh.

“Shut up,” you chuckled as you lightly elbowed her in the side.

“Did you say it back?”

Silence.

“Y/N,” Ash scolded. You stopped digging for rocks just long enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “You said it back, right?”

“I was a little distracted-”

“-You’re such a dick.” She elbowed you back; far harder than you had done to her. “That was probably peak romance for her.”

“I’m sorry I was mourning my brother, Ashley,” you taunted back. “A love confession wasn’t necessarily on my list of things to expect for the day.”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Ash asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Go back and apologise!” She shouted. The birds stopped chirping for a few seconds before resuming their relaxing songs. “And return the love, for fuck sake.”

“Why do you even care?” You asked. The search for rocks to throw was long forgotten.

“Because I saw your face when she kissed your cheek,” Ash sighed. “And I know she was simply markin’ her territory, but you looked happy.” Her eyes met yours; they were soft. Reminiscent of all those years ago. “I don’t think you were ever that happy with me.”

“We were kids,” you said, turning to look back out at the brook. You couldn’t handle her stare anymore. “Not sure we could have-”

“-Will you shut the hell up?” She interrupted. “Fuck, Y/N, that girl can keep you.” A huff left her lips.

“You’re doing a wonderful job at comforting me,” you grumbled.

“Go tell her,” Ash said again in a tone that left no room for argument. “Because if she doesn’t take you back then we’ll be stuck with you.” She was trying not to smile.

“You’re a bitch.”

“And you’re a dick.” Her smile turned softer, less taunting. “But you’re a dick who deserves a little bit of happiness after this clusterfuck.”

“Thanks, Ash,” you whispered.

“Just make sure you change first,” she said, her tone sounding more judgmental. “You smell like a pig.” Her eyes went down to the mud on your pants. “Look like one too.”

“Get the hell away from me,” you grumbled as you pushed her away. “Ha!” You laughed when she got her own shirt covered in mud.

“God, I hate you,” Ash grumbled. “Messin’ up my good shirt.”

Silence fell over the both of you and you looked back out over the babbling brook that no longer seemed quite as inviting. Now it was just a brook, and the frogs were just frogs, and the birds were just enjoying their day. 

For just a moment, the anger had dissipated and you could sit there. Nicky was still on your mind, and your father was still on your mind, and Wednesday was still on your mind, and everything was still slowly falling apart. But for a moment, you could sit there.

Ash was right. You needed to go back and talk with Wednesday. She would understand, right? If she would just listen and let you explain and hopefully let you say those three words back to her, it would be okay. It would be okay, right? Your pulse started to race in your ears again.

You felt numb.

—---

Getting back to Nevermore had been easy enough. You had said your goodbyes to Ash (and promptly told her not to contact you again) before heading back to the house. A quick shower (which almost felt nice after nearly two weeks without it), a change of clothes, goodbyes to everyone except Hailey (who was still furious), and a quick flight home.

Well, it wasn’t a quick flight. But it was a flight.

“Thank heavens.”

You felt a body crash into you when you walked through the front doors of Nevermore Academy again. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. There was only a moment of hesitation before you dropped your duffel bag and returned the hug, leaning completely into Mama Weems. The familiar scent of lavender and tea invaded your senses and for a moment, your shoulders sagged as you exhaled slowly.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again,” she whispered into your ear. Her grip tightened ever so slightly. So did yours.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled back. There was a lump in your throat and a stinging in your eyes.

You felt numb.

It was the only warm welcome you got back at Nevermore.

Ajax and Kent had waved at you from across the courtyard before Divina and Enid pulled them away. The migraine came back, but you physically shook it away. They probably just wanted to give you some space, right? You weren’t exactly one to talk openly anyway, they were being polite.

But then Yoko practically refused to look at you. You had tried to approach her the next day, but she almost immediately turned in the other direction and walked into one of the classrooms. There was an undeniable skip in your heartbeat, but you ignored it. You had ignored her for two weeks and she had seen you lose your shit; she always hated it. It made sense that she was going to keep her distance. Right?

No one let Eugene get near you. Plain and simple as that.

And you hadn’t seen hide or hair of Wednesday even after three days of being back.

“Where is she?” You asked Bianca after cornering her before a class.

“I have physics,” she said.

“I need to talk to her,” you said again. “Everyone can ignore me again later, but I need to talk to her.”

“She’ll be practising her cello in her dorm tonight,” Bianca said with only a moment of thought. “Why do you need to talk to her?” She straightened up.

“I reacted poorly to something,” you said with a sigh. Bianca was going to be late to class; she didn’t seem to care. “And Ash said I-”

“-You talked with your ex before talking with your girlfriend?” Bianca interrupted. “Are you stupid?”

“Clearly,” you said as you threw your hands in the air. “That’s why I need to apologise.”

“Don’t tell her you talked to Ash,” she said with a pointed look. “Especially if you’re already in the doghouse.”

“Keep the trio away?” You asked.

Bianca didn’t answer, but nodded once after exhaling slowly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, quickly stepping aside so she could get to class.

When you were finally standing in front of Wednesday’s door that evening, you felt numb.

Usually you would just walk in. After so long of being friends with Enid, and then with Wednesday, you had earned the privilege of coming in unannounced. But now? After the past few weeks and particularly after your reaction? Just the thought of walking in made your stomach churn. So you lifted your hand, knocked three times, and waited.

Wednesday was already in her everyday clothes when she opened the door. And yet, you couldn’t have found her more beautiful. You had missed her. If nothing else, you had just missed her company, her presence reminding you that on purpose someone chose to be with you. On purpose someone actually wanted you.

But then you saw the light bags under her eyes, and the downturn of her lips, and that murderous spark in her eyes. And you knew. You knew what was going on in her head, and you knew your heart wanted to jump out of your chest, and you knew your eyes stung. And you knew she was furious.

“Can we talk?” You asked quietly once you realised Wednesday wasn’t going to say anything.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about,” she said as she walked back out to the balcony.

“Yes there is,” you said. You shut the door behind you and followed after her like a lost puppy. Maybe you were. “I was a dick, and I’m so-”

“-I don’t require your apologies,” she interrupted you. “In fact, I would prefer you keep them to yourself.”

“No, it wasn’t right,” you said quickly. She still wasn’t even paying you any attention. “I didn’t say what I actually wanted to say.”

“I do not wish to hear what you wanted to say,” Wednesday said, and you froze. She was talking differently, like she had when you had first met. Why was she talking differently?

“What?” Maybe you heard her wrong.

“You made it clear you are either unable or unwilling to reciprocate,” she said, finally turning around to look at you. If you looked a little closer, you could see the slightest pink tint to her eyes.

“I’m- I’m not- I-” You couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t get the fucking words out.

“Yoko has informed me of your unfortunate incidents around verbal affection.” She barely even let you open your mouth to answer. “To save us both some trouble, I have decided to return to our previous acquaintanceship so you may have the space you require.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

If your heart could physically break, that’s exactly what it was doing. You could hear and feel each individual beat of your heart, each one hurting more than the last. It made you want to rip into your chest with your bare hands and pull it out, offering the broken muscle to Wednesday on a silver platter if that’s what it would take to make it stop hurting.

“Acq- a- a- acquaintanceship?” You asked, shaking your head. Trying to get the migraine to go away. “Wednesday that’s- that’s not- I don’t-”

“-I am in the middle of something,” Wednesday interrupted. “You may say what you wish to say, then leave me to my allotted practice time.”

She turned her back to you and sat down in her chair on the balcony. Her delicate fingers repositioned the cello and picked up the bow, and it was like you weren’t even there. Like you hadn’t just come by to say you were sorry, to say you loved her too. You were nothing more than an inconvenience to her schedule, just like old times.

And you couldn’t even blame her.

The music started to resonate through the open window, bouncing off the walls of the room. It echoed in your skull and picked apart the folds of your brain one by one, like it was slicing the excess chunks off until it could force itself into every available inch of space. Usually you loved to hear her play, loved to sit on the roof above her and just watch until she was finished; a watchful gargoyle against the inky black sky.

But now? No, now it was just intolerable. Unbearable, even.

She didn’t turn around when you dragged your leaden feet to the door. Didn’t check on you when you tripped over the air, your feet hitting the ground with a little extra force. And she certainly didn’t turn around when you did. Don’t let me leave, your heart begged her.

“I just…” Don’t say it, your mind told you. Please say it, your heart cried. “I love you too, Wednesday.”

The cello came to a screeching halt, only for a second before resuming again. Wednesday didn’t turn around; you knew she wouldn’t. And all those big feelings you had finally mentally agreed to start feeling grabbed the shovel and started digging until they were six feet under the numbness.

Not even anger stayed on the surface. Not this time.

With shaky, sweating hands you opened the door and stood face to face with Enid, Yoko, and Divina. A lump formed in the back of your throat as you looked at each of them briefly. You forced an unconvincing smile and gently pushed past them. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as they watched you leave, but you didn’t care.

What was there to even care about anymore?

You felt numb.

—---

There was a reason Wednesday had never let anyone too close. It was a distraction, a liability, and it was a gateway to feeling hurt. Nothing good ever came out of letting anyone close. After all, look what had happened with Nero? She had loved him, and all it had gotten her was suffering. And not the good kind.

That’s what you had done. You had hurt her, and she hated you for it. She knew your situation, she understood as best as she possibly could. But her childish feelings had led to you hurting her. She had dared to open up and feel something, and it had led to all this unbearable suffering. Maybe she had been right when she had told her mother she would never fall in love.

It was impossible not to see you around Nevermore, and that made everything so much harder. You were there in class, grading papers or cleaning up afterwards. You were there in the quad, walking with Weems with a straight back and wings hidden. You were there in Jericho, sitting on a bench with shaking hands and a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

She hated you for that too. For looking so pitiful all the time, like a stray dog begging for someone to give them attention. Yoko was still upset with you, she had made it very clear on numerous occasions. But Kent and Ajax had pulled you in again, always sitting with you or hanging out with you again. You almost smiled on those days.

You turned cold with everyone. The occasional nod of acknowledgment, or even a small wave was all anyone got out of you. Not that she had tried to get your attention, she had told you to leave. Had downgraded your relationship to nothing more than acquaintances on the best of days. But she didn’t think you would have actually listened to her and started practically ignoring her.

More than once, Wednesday found you in some sort of disarray once the work day was done. Sometimes you were dangerously high in Kent and Ajax’s room, not saying a word but eyes focused on the ceiling. One of the boys always tried to keep the door closed enough for you to be hidden when she came by, but she could still see you. It was pathetic, truly. At least she tried to convince herself it was.

Other times she found you wandering the grounds late at night. Never with your wings out and always near the lake. She could see you from her balcony; sometimes she would catch you while practicing cello, other times she was actively looking for you. You would stand out there and just look. More than once you toed your shoes off and dove into the freezing water, fully clothed. Wednesday would wait with bated breath until you finally resurfaced after far too long.

You would crawl back up onto the dock, gasping and sputtering as you laid on your back with your hands over your face. She didn’t have to assume what was on your mind during those nights.

But the worst part was a few weeks later, when everyone was finally starting to talk about the Rave’N once again. You had wormed your way back into sitting with the group during meals, talking with everyone as if nothing had happened. Well, everyone except her. There was still a certain lack of emotion to your words, and an underlying anger.

With the way you talked to her though, as if she was someone you had barely met before instead of someone you had harboured feelings for. That was what hurt. Yes, she had told you to simply be an acquaintance, but she hadn’t expected it to be this utterly painful. To have you so close, the heat from your body warming her own, but not being able to touch you.

Wednesday knew it was unfair. She knew she should have heard you out, listened to you, even accepted whatever apology you would have attempted to come up with. It had been clear you were sincere, and she knew you were suffering over your own things. There was no ground for her to be painting you as the villain in this whole situation.

But she had made her choice. Yoko had told her of your aversion to people loving you. How you felt it only led to the suffering of those who fell victim to it. Nicky, Hailey, Alex, your ex. Each had suffered in some way after admitting their affections aloud.

Wednesday supposed she now could sign her name on that list as well.

“Are you going with Dumb and Dumber?” Divina asked you. You stopped picking apart your sandwich for a moment to look up before resuming. “Or Bianca?”

“Nah.” You shook your head slowly. “I volunteered as a chaperone.”

“So someone can spike the punch,” Yoko said with a small smile. “Devious.”

“More like so I can get out of cleanup duty,” you answered quickly. “You going with anyone, Addams?”

You mean far too much to call me that, Wednesday’s black heart cried. Your eyes were far too gentle and there was too much left unsaid in your question. Why were you being so gentle? She wanted you to fight back. If you weren’t going to fight for her, then she wanted you to fight her.

“You could always take Xavier,” Enid teased.

“She’s a sadist, not a masochist, Sinclair,” you shot back. But Wednesday saw the slightest downturn of the corner of your lips before you turned to look at her again. “You could do better.”

I can, she thought. I had you. But she kept her mouth shut and looked back down at the half eaten apple sitting in front of her. You shouldn’t be giving her relationship advice, you should be the one with her. You pushed her away, her mind told her. She just scowled and kept her head down.

“What about the barista at the Weathervane?” Yoko asked. “That Galpin kid.”

“Barista?” You asked as your head shot up. Wednesday noticed Yoko was staring directly at you with furrowed brows, almost daring you to say something wrong. “What barista?”

“He’s been sweet on Wednesday for the past month or so,” Yoko continued. Stop it, Wednesday thought when she could practically see the gears turning in your head, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. You’ll make her give up. “Some normie kid.”

“Wait, Tyler?” You asked.

“The Sheriff’s son,” Yoko said with a nod. She almost looked confident; it wasn’t a good look for her.

“You know Tyler?” Divina asked. Was he another ex of yours? Clearly you had them and weren’t keen on sharing your past experiences.

Oh. That thought was far more vindictive than Wednesday had intended. What were you even doing to her?

“They fought a few times,” Yoko answered before you could. You were still staring at your sandwich, lost in thought. “Didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Sheriff Galpin knows me by name.”

“You should go with him,” Yoko said, finally turning to look at Wednesday. She was planning something. “I guess he’s cute. You two would be the talk of the dance.”

Wednesday turned to look at you from the corner of her eyes. She wanted you to say something. Argue, tell her it was stupid, fight her about it. But you didn’t. You didn’t even look at her, instead moving to pick apart the granola bar now that your sandwich was decimated.

Conversation ceased until everyone separated again.

Wednesday wasn’t convinced about asking Tyler to the Rave’N. Yes, he had been seeming far more interested in her over the past few weeks, and yes, he had given her free quads lately. Did she like him? He had done nothing of worth, so she felt absolutely nothing for him.

“Go ask him,” Ajax urged two evenings later while everyone was at the Weathervane.

You included. Currently you were on the other side of the cafe, sitting across the table from Bianca talking about who-knew-what. Neither one of you were smiling, but you rarely did when together. At least not when Wednesday was observing you both. You didn’t look upset; more neutral.

“She’ll see you ask him, get jealous, and then you’re in the clear,” Kent continued.

“Are you two high?” Enid asked cautiously.

“Not currently,” Ajax answered.

“Maybe that’s why you’re being so stupid,” Enid sighed.

“This ploy appears immature,” Wednesday said with a frown.

“If it works, does it matter?” Kent scoffed.

“Kent-”

“-Hear us out,” Ajax interrupted Enid. “I’ll comfort her about Nicky all day every day,” he started, “but that bitch needs tough love when it comes to relationships.”

“That sounds counterproductive,” Wednesday said.

“That’s why it works,” Ajax said with a smile and a nod. “If you think it’s ridiculous, then it works on her.”

“Oh my god,” Enid huffed. “Willa, just please ask Tyler to the Rave’N already so we can get back to normal.” She looked at Wednesday more seriously than ever before. “Thing and I want our cuddle buddy back.”

Wednesday looked over at you once again. You leaned back in your chair with your eyes on the coffee in front of you that was no longer steaming. You never finish it anymore, she thought with a slight frown. Was that her fault? Did you no longer drink coffee after she had given you space?

No. It couldn’t be her fault. She was never wrong.

Without a second glance in your direction, Wednesday stood up and walked to the counter with a purpose. Tyler was already there, cleaning something that, realistically, he had already cleaned. She noticed he had a habit of cleaning things when he was bored. Admirable, really.

“Need another quad?” Tyler asked with what Wednesday supposed everyone else would call a boyish smile.

“Do you have plans this Saturday evening?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“Plans?” He asked, mirroring her. Clever. “Not yet.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Then you can accompany me to the Rave’N.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asked, his smile turning into a smirk. “I won’t go unless I’m asked.”

Wednesday blinked once. The absolute audacity of this boy. Who did he think he was to demand to be asked? It almost stopped her right there, going back to the table because we tried, he’s not worth the effort, better luck next time. But Ajax and Kent swore it would work…

“Would you… go… to the Rave’N with me?” She asked with great struggle. The look in Tyler’s eyes indicated he enjoyed it.

“I would love to,” he said softly. “I’ll pick you up from your dorm at 7.”

She didn’t bother saying anything else to him. The whole situation was humiliating enough without adding even more conversation. When she turned around, she saw you; you were furious. If looks could kill, Tyler would have been eviscerated. Your bottom jaw readjusted a few times before you looked back down at your coffee.

Maybe this ridiculous plan would work after all.

The pointless dance came far sooner than Wednesday had been prepared for. She had been so busy watching you, revelling in your petty comments on Tyler and your sudden possessiveness that made occasional appearances. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the Rave’N was actually arriving, and you weren’t actually going with her.

For a moment she had forgotten about the current situation.

“You look beautiful,” Tyler said as he stood outside the now-opened dorm door.

“Let’s get going,” she said simply. “Thing, don’t wait up.”

Thing saluted and tucked back into the magazine he was reading. Wednesday took the corsage from Tyler and quickly walked away. The sooner this whole dance was over, the better. If Ajax and Kent’s stupid plan didn’t work, she was going to kill them. Slowly and painfully.

You were already at the dance by the time everyone arrived. Weems had greeted them, giving Wednesday a particularly unusual look, but you were inside. Not too far from the DJ, locked into what appeared to be a heated discussion with Eugene. The both of you were in white suits, and she wouldn’t deny you looked particularly stunning.

White was a wonderful colour on you.

Talk was cheap the entire night, not that she was paying attention. She was too distracted keeping an eye on you. On the way you were constantly walking around, fidgeting with your hands, tapping your foot far too offbeat to be usual. More often than not she would catch your eye; only for a moment, but that moment made her stomach twist into knots.

She had missed it.

“I’ll grab some punch,” Tyler said into her ear in an attempt to be heard over the music. She nodded once before he left.

Much to her excitement, you caught him at the table. That was the moment Wednesday realised Yoko was right; you two had history. It was evident in the frown on your face and the tight set of your jaw. In the way your lip lifted into a snarl at something he said. In the way you reached out and grabbed his arm when he tried to walk away.

She couldn’t hear what you were telling him, but she didn’t have to be smart to know it was about her. Not when the both of you turned your head simultaneously to look at her. She knew she should look at Tyler; he was her date for the night.

But she was looking at you. Only at you.

“I can see why you two aren’t together anymore,” Tyler said as he handed a cup to Wednesday once he got back to the group.

“Watch it, normie,” Bianca said. It wasn’t a threat. Yet. “You’re only a guest for the night.”

Everyone started conservative conversations, not about anything special. Now that everyone was on edge, no one deemed it appropriate to have fun. Wonderful, now they could feel almost as miserable as Wednesday did. Not that she was listening, of course, she was too busy staring at the cup sitting in front of her-

“-Wednesday.”

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, barely even touching her. She twisted in her seat in time to see you pull your hand back, holding the recently formed fist to your stomach. You were worrying your lip in that way she had become accustomed to, and your eyes were flitting between her and where Tyler was sitting.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She nodded once and stood up from her seat without wasting a single breath to tell anyone where she was going. Everyone should have noticed anyway, if the grin on Yoko’s and Divina’s faces were anything to go by. Your knuckles brushed against her hand before you quickly pulled away again.

“Be careful around Tyler,” you said once you had pulled her to the far side of the room.

It was the place where you had both stayed during the Rave’N last year. Had you done that on purpose? Or was the small detail so important, so ingrained into your head that you had done it subconsciously? Would she have even preferred it one way or another?

“He’s a prick,” you continued with a snarl of your lip. You glanced up in the direction of the table before looking back down.

“I simply needed someone to accompany me,” Wednesday said quickly. Don’t tell her that.

“To give me space,” you said with a nod. She blinked once and nodded back. “I don’t need space.”

“Yoko said-”

“-Quit listening to what Yoko said,” you interrupted not unkindly. “Listen to what I’m saying.”

Wednesday met your eyes. She could hold eye contact indefinitely if the need arose, unless it was with you. For once, you didn’t look high and you had clear eyes again. How long had it been since you had last been sober? There was such a clarity and intensity in your gaze that it was almost like you were looking through her.

And she missed you. Having you so close, your face mere inches from hers once again. It was disgusting, and humiliating, but she missed you. Missed your proximity, your voice, the way you looked at her as if you would break her. Yet even then you never treated her as fragile; instead like she was invaluable, irreplaceable even.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, her eyes flitting down to look at your lips as you licked them once.

“I just-”

-Your eyes darted up for a second before you did a quick double take. You straightened your back and kept looking behind Wednesday. She turned her head, almost instantly finding what had caught your attention. Sheriff Galpin had walked into the room with three officers - clearly not from Jericho, if the gear was anything to go by - following after him.

You both watched as Sheriff Galpin walked directly to Tyler, talking and gesturing. She hoped he was only coming to talk to his son; that would be typical for the man who barely tolerated Outcasts to begin with. But then they both turned and looked in her direction, in your direction.

“Y/N,” Sheriff Galpin said with what Wednesday could only describe as a pained smile.

“I didn’t touch Tyler,” you said with a shake of your head.

“That’s not why I’m here, kid,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“What is going on here?” Weems asked as she came up to the group. She looked furious.

“Out of my jurisdiction,” Sheriff Galpin said with a halfhearted shrug.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” One of the officers behind Sheriff Galpin told you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, but did exactly as directed.

“You’re under arrest for battery domestic violence and two counts of homicide,” the first officer said as the other put the handcuffs around your wrists.

“I beg your pardon?” Weems asked. “Where are these charges coming from?”

“You have the right to remain silent.”

The music continued to blare in the room, and everyone continued dancing. But the only thing Wednesday could hear was a ringing in her ears. You turned your head to lock eyes with her, and it felt like her heart had stopped beating. There was a fear in your eyes, but also something else. Something that was emphasised by the sag in your shoulders and the way your head hung low.

Acceptance.

“Call my Pop,” you said. You hadn’t listened to anything the officer had told you. "Please."

She wanted to reach out to you, to say something to you. Tell you it would be alright, or that she would get you out. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move as they escorted you out of the Rave’N. No, she just stood there with Weems and watched until you disappeared.

You had been arrested. You were being taken to a jail, clearly not in Jericho, and she didn’t know where you were going. She couldn’t keep you safe, she didn’t get to hear what you had to say. You would now be labelled a criminal.

Maybe she had a type.

everyone but her pt.22

Summary: A hidden part of your past comes back to haunt you. At least you've secured a special place in an unusual family's hearts. You would be paying off the debt for the rest of your life.

Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: swearing, violence, murder (in a flashback) 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

A/N: I've had a clusterfuck of a week and it's only Wednesday morning, so I'm giving y'all this 20mins early because I love y'all dearly 🫶

The sun was out, shining down and leaving a nice little burn to your skin. It was the perfect day to be running around Niagara Falls with Nicky. People were all around, the birds were out, and you were already far too full from street food. It was perfect.

“What next?” Nicky asked once you had both finished your ice creams; you had strawberry and he had vanilla.

“Hmm,” you hummed aloud, looking carefully over everything.

There were carnival games all around, those were always fun. But they cost money, so maybe not those. Go-karts would be fun, but you weren’t tall enough to drive them and Nicky was a bad driver. You could always go see the birds again, but Nicky had gotten bored. There had to be something you could both do.

Oh!

“The skywheel!” You shouted. No one could see, but your little wings flapped under your shirt.

“Really?” Nicky asked, his hand pressing gently on your back to keep your wings steady. It was comforting. “Why? You can see that view any time.”

“But you can’t,” you said. He looked down at you. “I want you to see what I see!”

“Okay,” he said with a smile, and you turned around to look at the skywheel.

It was so much fun! The birds were out, the sun was shining over the water, and the man at the bottom let you go around three times! Even Nicky had fun, pointing out people, talking about how pretty the sky was. Maybe he could appreciate the view a little better when you tried to fly without permission next time.

“Can we go to the gardens tomorrow?” You asked while you picked at the nachos Nicky had gotten. They had tomatoes on them. Yuck.

“We can,” he said. He wasn’t really paying attention to you, but that was okay because you weren’t paying attention to him either. “If you want to.”

“Are we camping again tonight?” You asked. All the tomato pieces finally rested in the corner of the paper tray and you could eat in peace.

“Yeah,” Nicky said with a sigh. “We’ll head out when you’re done eating.”

“Aren’t you still hungry?” You asked.

“Nah,” he said with a smile. “Finish it.”

“Here,” you said, pushing the tray a little closer to his hand, “I saved the tomatoes for you.”

He hesitated, but after looking at you for a minute he reached forward and grabbed a nacho. They were going cold, but you were just happy to share. You had noticed he hadn’t been eating as much since you had left Nevermore for the trip, and he definitely needed more food.

Besides, it was yummy, why wouldn’t he want some?

After watching the sun set over the falls, it was time to start the trip down to where you had both camped last night. It was a nice little spot down by the nature trails below the falls. You had met some nice people down there when you arrived. They had even loaned you a tent!

“Hold my hand,” Nicky said when the street lights were on and you were taking a shortcut through one of the alleys. “Don’t let go.”

“Why not?” You asked, but reached for his hand anyway. It was warm.

“Just don’t,” he said again. His head was looking all around, but you were very focused on the cotton candy the nice man at the cart had given you.

“A little late to be wandering around, don’t you think?”

Yours and Nicky’s heads turned quickly to see two men walking into the alley behind you. They were tall, even taller than daddy. They had some nice smiles on their faces. Were they taking a shortcut to the trails too?

“We’re just going home,” Nicky said. You opened your mouth to argue - you were going to the campground, not home - but he gave you a look that had you shutting your mouth again.

“All alone?” The other man asked with a tilt of his head. “Your parents let you walk alone at night?”

“We can help,” the first man said. “We know a nice place you can both stay.”

“No thank you,” Nicky said. He pulled your hand as he backed away, making you stumble over your own feet. You nearly dropped your cotton candy. “Come on.”

Nicky kept his eyes on the two men as he continued to pull you with him. You tried to walk backwards just like him, but you stepped on something and stumbled, dropping one of the rocks you had snuck into your pocket. Without questioning it, you turned around and bent down to pick it up, your wings fluttering under your shirt to help you straighten up again.

“Would you look at that,” the second man said, and Nicky froze. “We found ourselves a little Outcast.”

“Nicky is too!” You said.

“Y/N, hush-”

“-No no, let her talk,” the first man said. They were walking closer. “You like to talk, kid?”

“All the time,” you said with a smile. He was smiling too.

“What do you like to talk about?” He asked again. The second man was moving sideways. Where was he going?

“Birds,” you said without hesitation. “Oh, and rocks! Wanna see the ones I found today?”

“I'd love to see them," he continued. He took another step closer. "Why don't you come with us to our house and you can show us all the rocks."

"Ok-"

"-Don't touch us," Nicky interrupted, harshly pulling you behind him.

“Don’t get so defensive,” the second man said. You turned your head and saw him standing behind you both. “We just want to give you kids a place to sleep.”

“I thought you wanted to see my rocks,” you said with a huff. The men got closer.

“How about you just come with us,” the first man said as he reached out and grabbed your arm.

“I said don’t!” Nicky shouted.

He dropped your hand and ran head first, hitting the first man's stomach. They both hit the ground hard. You tried to go help, but a big pair of arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back into a big body.

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” the second man said in your ear. He smelled funny.

But the moment the first man hit Nicky with his knee, you lunged forward. Those big hands pulled you back, but you just ducked down further and he let go. Then it was your turn to hit the first man. You knocked him off of Nicky and felt your knee scrape on the ground.

“You fucking brats,” the first man spit out. He pulled something out of his pocket. Nicky was still on the ground holding his stomach.

The moment you saw the knife in the first man’s hand, you turned around to run. You knew to run away from danger, Nicky had taught you that. But you didn’t get very far before you felt someone pick you up. One hand covered your mouth and you bit down hard.

He screamed and dropped you to the ground again. It hurt your feet. You tried to run again, but the man knocked you over. He turned you around, his body pressing you into the hard ground. You turned your head and saw Nicky fighting with the second man.

It didn’t look like Nicky was winning.

“Just stay still,” the first man said above you. He smelled funny too.

Fight back, a little voice in your head said.

What had you seen Nicky do before? He had gotten into fights before, what did he do? Oh! You threw your head forward, feeling the sharp ache when it connected with the first man’s nose. He grunted and pulled back a little bit, but then you felt something hit the side of your face.

Everything started ringing and the alley started spinning. You could feel him pressing into you again, and your wings started to hurt from the ground. Fight back, the little voice said again, so you did. You threw your arms and legs out everywhere, trying to hit something. But then you felt something sharp press against your neck and you stopped.

“Just kill ‘em already,” the second man called out. He sounded like he had been running for a long time.

“With pleasure,” the first man said above you.

No. You felt the knife press into your neck and the sting that followed. What did you do? What were you supposed to do? Nicky had never taught you how to fight a knife!

Knock it away, the little voice said, and grab it.

You thrashed around again, making sure to hit the hand that was holding the knife. The first man groaned again and you kicked your leg up. You don’t know what you hit, but he screamed and rolled off of you. You scrambled to your hands and knees and looked around.

There was the knife.

Your fingers touched the knife right when the first man got on you again. He tried to grab the knife too, his hand much bigger than yours. As soon as you felt your hand grab it, you turned around and swung it.

“Fuck!”

The first man pulled back really fast, holding his cheek. Something red was coming out from between his fingers. He pulled his hand back and you both looked at the blood, and your eyes went to the big cut on his cheek.

“You little bitch,” he said in a mean voice. “Come here.”

He lunged at you again, but you closed your eyes and held the knife out in front of you. Something hit the knife, pushing you back onto the ground again. You heard a gasp and opened your eyes.

The knife was sticking out of the man’s shoulder. He looked at you in shock before his mouth turned into a frown. When he tried to grab you, you pulled the knife out and stabbed him with it again, this time in his hand.

He reached forward, grabbing your wrist and pulled you back. But instead of pulling, you moved forward and he fell onto his back with you on top of him. Stab him, the little voice said; it sounded mean. Without any hesitation, you grabbed the knife with both hands and brought it down. And you did it again. And again. And again again again again again-

-Something warm splashed against your face. The man was screaming, so you closed your eyes and tried to tune him out. You hummed. But you kept bringing the knife down over and over and over and over and over and-

“-Y/N!”

Smaller hands held your wrists, stopping you from bringing the knife down. You opened your eyes again and saw Nicky looking at you. He had blood on his face and clothes and a few cuts all over. Was he okay?

“Let me have it,” Nicky said softly, and he took the knife from your hands. Your fingers felt stiff like they didn’t want to let go. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t know. What had just happened anyway? You were supposed to be at the campgrounds with Nicky about now, right? Why weren’t you both down there with those nice weird people from the other night?

The man wasn’t moving underneath you.

“We have to go,” Nicky said. He was looking all over. “We need to go.”

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you up to your feet. Your legs were all wobbly. Nicky grabbed your hand and started pulling you. You looked back and saw the two men laying on the ground. They were really still. Were they okay?

“We have to go,” Nicky said again as he pulled you further down the alley before you both started running-

“-Smith!”

Your head shot up from the hole you had been staring into the table. The quick movement gave you a headache and made your bruised side throb; jail had not been kind to you. Nothing could have properly prepared you for the difference between the singular Jericho cell and an actual jail down in D.C.

People here were mean.

“You’ve got another date with the detectives,” Officer Hartman called out once you still hadn’t moved.

“Better get movin’, cupcake,” your new bestest friend Erin said with a smug look that you wanted to beat off her. Again. “Hartman might scuff up that pretty face of yours.”

“What would I do without your all-encompassing wisdom,” you mumbled as you stood up, inhaling lightly as the bruises on your torso pulled.

“You sure you graduated highschool?” She asked. “Cause you’re sure actin’ stupid as hell.”

“Still smarter than you and your white trash girl group,” you said with a tilt of your head.

“Wanna say that to my face, Outcast?” Erin asked, standing abruptly to be toe-to-toe with you. In  your peripheral, you could see the rest of her gang starting to circle up.

“I thought I did,” you said. She was smaller than you, but far more aggressive. Surprisingly. “I guess your ass and face look the same, that’s my bad.”

“You little-”

“-Summers!”

Erin’s fist stayed cocked and ready as Officer Hartman casually walked up to the group, one hand resting on the baton on her belt. A shiver went down your spine at the sight of it; you certainly didn’t want to be on the other end of it again any time soon.

“Everything alright over here?” Officer Hartman asked, looking between both you and Erin.

“Just showing my little friend the ropes,” Erin said with a sickeningly sweet smile. Oh, you wanted to beat that off her too.

“You can show her later,” Officer Hartman said before turning to look at you. “Let’s get going, kid.”

“See you later, girly pop,” you said with your own smile before you blew a kiss in Erin’s direction.

You’re going to get your ass beat, the voice at the back of your head said. It was almost nice to hear; it had been a few days and you were getting worried it had disappeared. Wow, you were really attempting to make friends with the voice inside your head. Did that make you crazy?

Yes. Yes, it absolutely did.

“Assume the position,” Officer Hartman ordered once you were out of the common area.

It was a bit odd to be accustomed to the cold bite of the shackles placed around your wrists and ankles. To find a certain comfort in the way they were chained to the belt around your waist. You didn’t know what the explanation was, but it was probably something you needed therapy for.

Therapy is for pussies, the voice said. You didn’t necessarily disagree.

“You gonna behave today?” Officer Hartman asked when she started leading you to the interrogation room.

“Yes ma’am,” you said confidently.

“Good girl,” she said. “Maybe we’re finally beating that arrogance out of you.”

You didn’t say anything in reply; it was better that way. But her words made your side throb again. How bad was it now? It had been two days, surely it was looking nice and ugly at this point. But you hadn’t looked at it yet; you weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not that the detectives would care, nor would anyone else you were going to come into contact with.

“Welcome back, kid,” Detective Waller said when Officer Hartman led you into the interrogation room.

“Afternoon,” you said quietly as you let Hartman unshackle you and then cuff you to the half-circle thing on the table. You didn’t know what it was called, but it was kind of fun to run the cuff chain back and forth on it-

“-Stop it,” Hartman ordered.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, quickly sitting back in your seat to look at Detectives Waller and Pearce. You didn’t like them. Something about them wasn’t trustworthy.

“How you been?” Waller asked once Hartman left the room. He and Pearce seemed more laid back; you certainly did not.

“Fine,” you said. You refused to look up from where your hands were chained to the table.

A lot of precautions for a single 18 year old, the voice mused.

“I hear you’ve been making friends,” Pearce said, his voice always softer than Waller’s. “We can help you with that problem, you know.”

“You’ve just gotta tell us what happened,” Waller finished. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the desk. “We have proof, so just tell us how it went down.”

“We don’t need to know about the domestic,” Pearce said. “We have an entire room full of people who saw what happened.”

“Just tell us about Niagara,” Waller finished.

This again. They had been asking for over a week at that point. Why couldn’t they just let it go? You hadn’t even remembered it until they brought it up that first day. Maybe you had done it, sure, but how were you supposed to remember all the details?

“Quit looking at your hands,” Waller said harshly. “Look at me.”

And you did. You looked up at him and instantly felt like you were a kid again. The way they were both looking at you like a child about to get scolded. Like all the times when you would get in trouble with your mom and dad and be sent to your room to think about what you did.

It made you feel small.

“We’ve got your prints on the murder weapon,” Pearce said, attempting to take over the conversation. “Just tell us what happened and we can get you away from Erin.”

No he can’t, the voice said.

You kept your mouth shut.

“You’re making it pretty hard on yourself, kid,” Waller said. He leaned further; he was getting too close. “You know what happens when you refuse to cooperate?”

“You already arrested me,” you said. “So you clearly feel confident enough without a confession.” Waller narrowed his eyes. “Not much else you can threaten me with.”

“We can always have you transferred to a different block,” Pearce said with a tilt of his head.

“I hear Block C has a soft spot for Outcasts,” Waller continued.

Don’t listen to them.

“I’m sure you’d make a lot of new friends over there.” Your hands were feeling sweaty.

“You can be cellmates with Miss Byrne.”

Fight back.

Your ears were ringing.

“I think she’s in for killing an Outcast, isn’t she?”

Don’t let them do this.

Your heart wanted to jump out of your throat.

“Think she did. Five, if I remember right.”

“I’m sure she’s rehabilitated now though.”

“Probably wouldn’t even think twice to-”

“-Good afternoon, everyone.”

All three of you whipped your heads toward the door to see a man walking into the interrogation room. His dark hair was slicked back except for one or two strands hanging over his face, and his light goatee was, honestly, pretty fabulous. He kind of reminded you of Zorro.

What was Zorro doing in your interrogation room?

“Can we help you?” Pearce asked when it was clear Waller was still too busy glaring at the new man.

“Jair Moreno,” the man said with a big, bright smile. “I’m here to talk with my client.” He had a comfortingly deep voice, and a stunning accent. It reminded you of Mr. Addams.

“Client?” Waller asked.

“I don’t have a lawyer,” you said with a frown, finally able to voice something.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here, no?” He said. His smile turned less performative when he looked at you.

Don’t trust him.

“She never asked for a lawyer,” Waller continued. You almost wanted to laugh at how red his face was getting. He was mad.

Good.

“If you keep him around, we can’t talk to you anymore,” Pearce said with a smile that was a rather pitiful attempt at comfort. “We can’t help you.”

“I…” you looked back and forth between the detectives and your (supposed) lawyer. “I would like to talk with him.”

“It’s your funeral, kid,” Waller said with a huff, pushing his chair back harshly and shoving past Mr. Moreno.

“You have the room,” Pearce said quickly before following suit, though in a much less aggressive way. Both you and Mr. Moreno watched and waited until the door clicked shut again, and you were finally alone.

“My apologies for being so late,” he said with a friendly smile as he sat down in the seat across from you. “It took two days to find you.”

“I appreciate you coming, Mr. Moreno-”

“-Señor,” he corrected. “It’s a simple difference, but it makes the white men uncomfortable in these parts.” He winked as if he was letting you in on a little secret.

“Señor Moreno,” you said; the word didn’t sound as pretty coming from your mouth, but he smiled and nodded at you once anyway. “But I can’t afford you. And I never called you.”

“No you didn’t,” he said quickly, “a close friend informed me of the situation. Said you’re like another child to him.”

You wracked your brain to think of who could have possibly called someone for you. Everyone had seen you getting arrested at the Rave’N, so it wasn’t like you could pick from who had known. And you were close with a lot of parents. Had it been a teacher? No, probably not. It certainly wasn’t Sheriff Galpin; he liked you well enough, but you were also a major thorn in his side.

It’s a trap, the voice said. You physically shook your head to get it out. Now wasn’t the time for paranoia.

“I don’t know who would have called,” you finally said. He was being far too nice, it was starting to be a little creepy. Maybe it was the time for some paranoia.

“No?” You shook your head slowly, and his smile fell into something smaller, much more comforting. “Gomez Addams gave me a call.”

Oh.

“Well then I certainly can’t afford you,” you said immediately. Señor Moreno laughed a deep belly laugh.

“He said you would say that,” he chuckled. “That’s why I’m taking your case pro bono.”

“That’s not a smart business decision,” you mumbled, looking down at your hands and away from his gaze. His eyes reminded you of Wednesday’s; dark, like perfectly stained wood.

You’re going to owe them, the voice said. You’ll never be able to repay them. You’ll be in their debt for the rest of your life.

“But it is my decision to make,” he said. You didn’t look up from your hands but nodded absentmindedly.

You felt small again.

“Let’s go ahead and get down to business,” Señor Moreno said.

You nodded and braced yourself for whatever it was he was going to say. You hoped it wasn’t going to be all bad news. There was only so much more you could take.

“Let’s talk about the domestic first,” he said, and you nodded. “We won’t deny it happened, that would be foolish. But what was your emotional state at that moment?”

He blamed Outcasts; he blamed you. Your fist pounded into flesh and bone again and again and again and ag-

“-I don’t know,” you said with a shrug and another shake of your head to get the image of blood out of your mind.

“Were you aware of what you were doing at the time?” He probed. “Or did you only realise afterwards?”

“I…” you sighed. “I didn’t know until after.”

“And it happened impulsively?”

“Yes.”

“Then we shall go with an extreme emotional disturbance defence,” he said. “I’ve used it in New York, I’m sure I can find a loophole here.”

“So it’s actually going to trial?” You asked, your shoulders sagging. You couldn’t handle a trial.

“Not necessarily,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. It was almost hypnotising. He was actually pretty handsome.

Don’t be a whore.

“Now tell me about this double homicide,” he said, looking down at notes that you hadn’t even realised he had. “They have yet to declare it either a murder or manslaughter because of your age at the time.”

“Uh, I was 9- 10,” you blinked frantically. “10, I was 10. Nicky was 14.” So young? “We walked west for a few days and had a mini vacation.” The knife flashed under the street lamps. “Two guys trapped us in an alley one night and tried to kidnap us.” You blinked hard again. “Or not, I don’t know, they just tried to get us to go with them.”

“What happened next?” Señor Moreno asked. His voice was far too soft and quiet, it was unsettling. He shouldn’t be so gentle.

“Uh, Nicky got into a fight with one of them and I got in a fight with the other,” you mused as you shook your head slowly, your eyes darting back and forth but not seeing anything. “The one I was fighting pulled a knife on me, so I knocked it out of his hand and…”

The knife came down again and again and again again again again again-

“And you fought back,” Señor Moreno finished for you.

You inhaled sharply, not realising you had been holding your breath. The room suddenly felt too cold and too enclosed. Your wings itched under the makeshift harness the jail had forced you to wear. You wanted to get out. It was too much, you wanted to leave.

“A double homicide sure, but sounds like self-defence to me,” he said. 

“Technically I only killed one,” you mused, blinking a few times to clear the haze so you could look back up at Señor Moreno.

“I suppose that’s true,” he said with a light laugh.

“Guess Nicky was right though,” you said to yourself. “I’ll always remember Niagara.”

“What did you say?” Señor Moreno’s head shot up from his notes. You frowned at him. “Where did you go?”

“Niagara Falls?” You said hesitantly.

“Which side?” He asked. He was leaning over the table to get close to you, his hands reaching out to grab your own. You let out a sigh; you had missed the touch of soft hands.

“Uhh,” you shook your head and your mouth flopped open and closed a few times. “The left side?”

“No no, which country,” he corrected quickly. “Were you on the American side, or the Canada side?”

“I don’t-”

“-What were the falls shaped like?” He asked. He was talking far too quickly, it was making your head spin.

“I…” your eyes swung left and right, over and over as you tried to remember.

“See that?” Nicky asked, pointing to the falls. You could see them perfectly from your spot on his shoulders. “What does it look like to you?”

“A waterfall,” you said with a giggle. He lightly pinched your thigh.

“What else?” He asked with his own little chuckle.

“Umm.” You tilted your head so you could think better. “It looks like a U.”

“It’s a horseshoe,” he said. “Pretty cool, right?”

“A horseshoe,” you said with a slow, dazed nod of your head. “It looked like a horseshoe.”

Señor Moreno let go of your hands - you instantly missed the warmth - and leaned back in his chair. His hands went behind his head and he smiled. He looked at you, looked into your very soul, and smiled. You frowned. What was he smiling about?

“You’re not going to trial,” he said with a chuckle.

“How do you know?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Your palms were getting itchy. And sweaty.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he said. “We have a meeting with your parents and their lawyer.”

“I can’t see them,” you said quickly, eyes going wide. “I can’t.”

“They can’t touch you,” he replied. “If they’re smart, they won’t even talk to you.”

It didn't comfort you, not really. What would it matter if they couldn’t talk to you? They would still be there; you would have to face the people who were supposed to care for you. Love you. Who should have been on your side from the very beginning, not getting you arrested.

“You’ll come back for me tomorrow?” You asked.

“Right after we post your bail,” he said with the most genuine look you had seen since arriving at jail.

“You promise?” You asked again.

He looked at you for a moment with a tilted head and slightly furrowed brows. What was he thinking? He’s not coming back for you, the voice said. But he reached out and placed gentle hands over yours and gave them a light squeeze.

“I promise on my abuela’s grave,” he said softly. Oh so softly.

It made you feel small. But in a good way.

Just the knowledge that you were going to get out was enough to make the rest of the day go by faster. You didn’t even care that Erin and her girl gang were glaring daggers at you the whole day. The only thing on your mind was getting to get out of this fucking jail and get back to the real world again.

You ignored the fact that the real world also sucked.

And that you were not prepared to deal with the real world yet.

Because you’re a coward, the voice in your head said.

You still slept like a baby.

The next morning you took your time heading to the showers; you had picked up on the fact that everyone either showered immediately, or not at all. If you waited just a little longer, the odds of you being alone were exponentially high. It worked out perfectly, and since you weren’t too worried about being late to anything anymore, you took your time. 

Even though it was a bit cold by that time, it felt nice as it cascaded over your face. With your eyes closed, you could just focus on the sound of the water. The goal wasn’t necessarily to wash off anymore, just try to keep your heart and mind in check. You were almost there. Just a little longer.

The water shut off only a moment later, and you let out a frustrated sigh. Of course you hadn’t been keeping track of the time. But it was okay, you would be out soon and could get a hot shower later if you really wanted it. Now all you need to do was dry off and-

-something hard hit the back of your knees and you immediately fell to the ground. The vibration travelled up your palms and the crack of your knees on the tile resonated through your bones and, if nothing else, the bruises that would paint themselves on your skin would be stunning. Wednesday would appreciate the grotesque colours, that was for sure.

You pushed yourself up and looked down at your palms to see the already reddened, sensitive skin on the heels. It ached, and both of your forearms throbbed lightly with each heartbeat. That was going to be a pain in the ass to-

-something rough pulled tight against your neck and yanked you back off your knees. Your hands instantly lifted to pull against it, trying to get your fingers underneath to ease the pressure on your throat. You could feel yourself being pulled backwards across the slick floor until you came to a stop.

Pull it away, the voice ordered. You couldn’t breathe.

Erin stepped in front of you.

“Hey, girly pop,” she said with a grin as she crouched down to be at eye level with you. “Heard you’re leaving today.”

The thing around your throat pulled tighter; it made you choke.

“We couldn’t let you leave without a goodbye present,” one of the women behind you practically taunted.

“Maybe afterwards you’ll learn not to run that big mouth of yours.” Erin’s grin was malicious at best, downright demonic at worst.

They were smart. You knew they were. The moment they pulled whatever was choking you tighter and your hands tried to pull it down, Erin swung. A solid punch that left your ears ringing and the world spinning. The throb in your eye was instant. Only when you were truly dazed did they really get started.

They were smart.

The bruises on your side had already ached before this. Now they genuinely hurt. Each new blow and kick stole what little air you had left in your lungs, and you didn’t know what to do. Did you keep trying not to suffocate? Or did you try to fight back? You couldn’t do both, you were outnumbered.

Fight back, the voice said. But how could you do that when you felt something crack in your side and you couldn’t fucking breath-

“-What’s going on in here?”

It was as if a switch flipped in the room. They instantly released you, and you gasped for air like your life depended on it. You sputtered and coughed, falling forward onto your hands and knees again except this time you didn’t pay attention to the pain in the heel of your palm.

No, this time you were too busy trying not to choke on your own blood.

“Five to one doesn’t seem too fair.” Miss Ethel’s voice echoed off the tiled walls; it sounded fuzzy through the ringing in your ears.

Something red was going down the shower drain.

“We’re just wishing our little friend good luck in the big outside world,” Erin said quickly. At least that’s what you thought she said, you couldn’t actually tell.

“Get going,” Miss Ethel said. You squeezed your eyes shut when the volume of her voice sent a migraine shooting down every nerve in your body. “Now.”

And just like that, they left. Left you on the floor of the showers with a foggy brain and the taste of blood on your tongue. Stand up. No. No, you didn't want to stand up. You wanted to curl up on the cold ground and lay in a pool of your own blood until the foggiest eased and your throat was no longer on fire.

"Come on, baby, get up," Miss Ethel said in a far softer voice that had reminded you of Abuelita.

Her old worn hands held you by the shoulders and steadied you, not rushing you but there as a crutch. As you moved and stretched and stood up, she was there to support you the whole time. Only when you were back up to your feet did she look up at you with a frown.

"So you’re only good for starting fights, not finishing them?” She asked, looking you up and down to assess the damage.

She needs to shut up.

“Just caught off guard,” you mumbled. Your mouth filled again and you spit near the drain; it was a mesmerising dark red. “I can finish fights.”

“Not today though, I see,” she continued. “Decided to be a gentleman, did you?”

“I had it,” you huffed. Something in her eyes reminded you of someone. Someone who cared. “I didn’t need your help.”

“I can see that,” she said with a solemn nod. “You certainly look like someone who had it covered.”

You gonna let her talk to you like that?

“Listen, baby,” Miss Ethel said, her voice dropping a tone and sounding more like a friend. Like someone who cared. “Stop pushing people away. Soon they’ll quit trying.”

“They already did,” you mumbled, your head falling. Your eyes squeezed shut again as a hammer started pounding away at the inside of your skull.

“Then get them back,” she said. You didn’t open your eyes but could feel her hand on your still-naked shoulder. “All that rage and loneliness has to come out sometime. Don’t put your friends on the receiving end and keep your head up. Sad birds still sing.”

“You sound poetic,” you said, finally opening your eyes to meet hers. “Not like someone who murdered her husbands.”

“Read it in a book somewhere,” she said with her charming smile that was missing a few teeth. “Even black widows have some wisdom buried deep down.”

You chuckled lightly before inhaling sharply. Something was definitely broken, probably a rib. It was sticking into your lungs and it just hurt. Every breath, every movement, it hurt. But you took a slow, deep breath and stood up straight again.

No giving up.

“Let’s get you dressed and ready to be picked up,” Miss Ethel said. “Before anyone comes looking for you.”

Miss Ethel helped clean the bit of blood off of you and tidied you up the best she could with what she had. You picked up the towel that had been wrapped around your neck only moments before. It was rough and white. The scratchiness in your throat came back.

You looked brand new by the time you put your suit back on and was escorted out of the jail. It was weird to be wearing the suit, but you supposed it was all you had. Certainly better than nothing, at least. If it wasn’t for the newly blackened eye and broken nose and bruised jaw and… well, anyway, you would have looked ready for the Rave’N.

In theory.

“Dios mío,” Señor Moreno said when he met you outside the jail, running up to you and checking over your face.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. “I just wanna go.”

“Of course,” he said with a simple nod before withdrawing his hands. “Then let’s get going.”

He led you to the front where a car was waiting, and you hesitated. These things weren’t just dangerous anymore; now they had rightfully killed Nicky. Sure, you had been in the police van on the way down, but this was… it was different. It was smaller and more dangerous.

It was scarier.

Just get in, the voice goaded you. And against everything you had, your feet carried you until you got into the passenger seat.

You couldn’t recall the ride to wherever you were meeting everyone. Nothing about it registered in your head, almost like a blackout. The only thing you became aware of was sitting down in the chair in that big empty room and waiting for everyone else to show up.

That was pretty scary.

“Good morning, Y/N,” someone said in an accented voice, and you and Señor Moreno turned around to greet everyone.

You remembered the man. Vaguely, of course. He was a friend of your dad’s, someone he had gone to law school with. Stokes; Luke Stokes. He was older now, had more grey in his hair, a few more wrinkles. If you remembered right, he had favoured you over Nicky.

But you averted your eyes the moment you saw your parents enter the room.

“You’ve certainly grown into a stunning young adult,” Mr. Stokes said with a polite smile.

“Thank you,” you said in a raspy voice; it itched your throat again. Everyone quickly sat down and you let your eyes fall to the table.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Mr. Stokes asked once everyone was settled. “You mentioned you were open to a plea deal?”

“Of course,” Señor Moreno said with his own smile. “A trial would be tedious for everyone, no?”

“I’m glad we agree,” Mr. Stokes said as he started shuffling some papers. It was an irritating sound; he wasn’t even looking for anything in particular, you could tell. “Let’s make this simple. Miss Smith pleads guilty and only serves 7 years.”

“I’ll make it simpler,” Señor Moreno retorted, leaning back in his seat. You felt his foot kick yours slightly. “She pleads guilty, pays her fine, and goes to anger management.”

“Absolutely not,” your dad cut in loudly. You flinched and reached your hand out on instinct; Señor Moreno grabbed it quickly under the table. “Assault and murder?”

“Marcus-”

“-No!” His voice was far too loud, only being drowned out by the racing pulse in your ears. “It’s insulting.”

“We have witnesses for the domestic and prints for the murder,” Mr. Stokes said. Your eyes were closed but you guessed he was trying to calm your dad back down. “Why would we let her off without a sentence?”

The domestic was a simple emotional disturbance,” Señor Moreno said nonchalantly. “Her brother had just died tragically, any juror would understand.”

“And the murder?”

“Just so happened to occur on Canadian soil.” He sounded cocky.

Watch their reactions, the voice said. Again, without any intention to do so, your eyes slowly opened and you looked up across the table.

Your dad was furious; his skin was darkened and there was a fire in his eyes. A dangerous fire. He was looking directly at you like he wanted to lunge across the table and strangle you where you sat. Maybe he did. Maybe he would.

I’d like to see him try, the voice growled. And for the first time in a while, you agreed.

“The United States would never extradite one of their own,” Señor Moreno continued, “let alone a small Outcast child who was defending herself from kidnappers.”

“Any jury would still convict,” Mr. Stokes said. “It’s a good deal, Moreno. Just accept it and let’s all go home.”

The room fell silent. A silence so thick you could choke on it. Everyone was looking at everyone else, watching, waiting to see who would speak first. You didn’t want to take the deal. Seven years in prison? Not even a jail, a prison? You could hold your own, but you would rather die than be subjected to that. There already was very little to live for. It would be the final straw.

Señor Moreno squeezed your hand before leaning forward on the table.

“We will have to reject this deal,” he said with a sigh. “A trial will be tedious, but well worth it.” He looked directly at your dad and you noticed the slightest smirk on his face. “I suppose the knowledge that my client is an Outcast will come to light during the trial.”

Your parents’ faces fell instantly. A laugh tried to bubble up from your throat, and you quickly coughed and cleared your throat to hide it. You bit your bottom lip hard as you looked back up to meet their eyes. For the first time, you saw something that almost made the pain worth it.

They were scared.

“I hope your clients are ready for-”

“-Hold on,” your dad interrupted. “There’s no need for that.”

“So you will accept our terms then?” Señor Moreno asked with a tilt of his head. You turned your head to hide your smile.

Gotcha.

He squeezed your hand again as your parents leaned closer to talk to Mr. Stokes. With another turn of your head, you looked at him. He had a cocky smile on his face that was reserved only for you. And truthfully, you trusted him.

“We’ll agree to your terms,” Mr. Stokes sighed, “but the battery remains on her record.”

Shit.

Señor Moreno looked at you again, waiting patiently for an answer. If a violent crime went on your record, you would never be able to move on. You would have to disclose it to jobs, everyone could look it up and find out. It would ruin your life.

But at least it was a life…

You nodded once.

“We accept,” Señor Moreno said quickly, holding his hand out for Mr. Stokes to shake it.

You hoped you hadn’t just handed your life over to something you couldn’t fix.

—---

The next few days were total chaos. Señor Moreno had allowed you to stay in his guest room before the next day of court. It was a kind gesture, truly it was, but the bed was too soft and the house was too quiet. There was no way to get any sort of sleep so you just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling and letting your thoughts consume you.

Then he took you to the doctor, letting them check you over. Two broken ribs, one fractured, a broken nose, and some deep bruising. Nothing too horrifying, you had dealt with worse. The horrifying part came when it was time to pay and Señor Moreno didn’t even let you see it. He just paid for it all himself.

“Any child of Gomez’s is a child of mine,” he said with a charming smile.

It made you feel small. And a little warm inside.

Don’t get soft, the voice said, it’ll ruin you.

The day of court was far simpler than you had thought it would be. At least it was now that you had Señor Moreno on your side. The judge accepted the plea and let you off with a simple “you’re young, don’t throw your life away.” You just mumbled a “yes sir” and left with Señor Moreno guiding you out of the courthouse.

“What now?” You asked as you pulled on the tie around your neck. It was a shame the only nice outfit you had was your suit to the Rave’N; it had quickly turned uncomfortable.

“Now you go home,” he said with a smile, still guiding you down the steps of the courthouse. Thanks to your parents’ aversion to Outcasts, there had been little to no publicity. “You’ll start your anger management once the new year starts.”

“And the fine?” You asked. 

It had been weighing on your mind since the judge had issued it; $15,000. There was no way in hell you would ever be able to pay that off. A few dozen feet away, your parents descended the courthouse steps, eyeing you for a moment before they looked elsewhere. Your hand quickly travelled to the crystal pendent the Addamses had given you; you still kept it around your neck at all times. 

“I can’t afford it.”

“It’s already taken care of.”

You stopped fidgeting with the crystal and nearly tripped over the last stair. Señor Moreno held his hand out to your arm to steady you before you could look up. Mr. and Mrs. Addams were standing near their car with Lurch still inside. Mrs. Addams had a soft smile while Mr. Addams immediately went to clap Señor Moreno on the back.

You didn’t bother trying to keep up as they started talking in Spanish. Abuelita really needed to teach you.

“How are you feeling, little bird?” Mrs. Addams asked softly as her hand reached out to brush against your cheek. You instantly leaned into the gentle touch.

Stop being vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you said even though you both clearly knew it was a lie.

“Thank you again, Jair,” Mrs. Addams said, and you turned just enough to see Mr. Addams and Señor Moreno walking closer. She still pulled you closer until her arm was around your waist.

She was being far too soft with you, it was making you nervous. But it also left you feeling cared for, maybe even loved. Fuck, when had you truly last felt loved? Mama Weems aside simply because she still had to work all the time, of course. Shit. Now you were just getting sad.

It’s pathetic.

“Of course, Tish,” Señor Moreno said with a smile. “Let me know if anything else comes up.”

“We will,” Mr. Addams said.

Everyone bid their goodbyes to Señor Moreno and watched as he walked away, leaving you with the Addamses. It made you uncomfortable in ways you couldn’t properly express. How much of their money had you wasted on this whole situation? How much time had you stolen from them?

“Are you ready to go home, little bird?” Mr. Addams asked. He still looked to be in good spirits.

You opened your mouth to answer but instantly felt that lump in your throat again. It was not going to cause you to cry, not now. You closed your mouth and nodded once instead, and thankfully they took that as an acceptable answer. Mrs. Addams opened the car door for you to let you in and soon the drive had started.

You couldn’t remember anything that happened on the trip, or even the ride to the Addams house itself. That alone was enough to get your heart racing once again, but you chalked it down to the stress and anxiety of the past few weeks. More than a few weeks. Fuck, how long had it been since the harvest festival? How many weeks had you missed out on?

Fuck.

You had barely gotten out of the car when you felt something crash into you, knocking you back. Your feet steadied the rest of you, but the ache in your body stretched down every nerve it could find. Small, slender arms were wrapped around your neck and, at the familiar scent of her perfume, your own arms wrapped around her waist as your eyes fell shut.

“Never again, cara mia,” Wednesday mumbled into the side of your neck. “Please.”

Oh, how could you possibly say no to that? When you could hear the rare emotion in her voice and feel something wet drop onto your skin? When her nails were digging into your suit and holding you as if you would disappear in an instant? When you could feel her pulse under your fingertips and even just the feel of her body against yours made you feel home?

She’s going to become a distraction, the voice warned. But a distraction to what? And in the end, did you even truly care? Did you care when she felt like home and comfort and warmth all at once? No. No, you didn’t care. You would let her be a distraction to the whole world if that’s what it took to keep her in your arms.

You didn’t bother with an answer, just held her tighter and inhaled deeply once again. The stress of everything started to melt away, even if only for a moment, and you just held Wednesday as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did. Maybe something inside you would break, leaving not even your sanity intact if you let go.

You wouldn’t let her go again.

You would pile corpses in front of her door before the world took her from you again.

everyone but her pt.23

Summary: The new year has started and you're doing everything in your power to not have to think about anything. Wednesday and the gang do their best to help.

Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: swearing, anger issues, mentions of smoking pot 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

The new year had you shoving everything down more than usual. The first year without Nicky. Without any semblance of control or knowledge of where you were going in life. There were only two things you knew for sure at the moment: first, anger management was a must and felt pointless.

Second, Wednesday refused to leave your side.

Not that you were complaining, of course. She was probably one of the only things at the moment that could keep you grounded in some form of reality. It helped ease that voice in your head at least for a little bit. Every now and then it came back, a distant whisper in the back of your mind, but one look at Wednesday silenced it again.

The past three weeks at the Addamses house had been nothing short of unbearable, if you were being completely honest with yourself. They never forced you to talk about anything per say, but they certainly wished to know. Constant vigilance on your whereabouts, inclusion to the point of suffocation, just knowing that they were dying to ask questions. It was a bit much.

But now, back at school, everyone could go back to the way you wanted it to be. No one was asking you questions, no one was making you feel pitied or all that faux sympathy. They were treating you just like normal, and at the moment? That’s the only thing you wanted.

You would need to talk about it someday. Talk with Yoko about everything, talk to Wednesday about extra everything. It was going to happen sooner or later, and it was going to suck. Jesus fuck, it was going to suck. But for now you could all pretend nothing had happened. It was a problem for another day.

For now, you were going to recover.

Wednesday had practically moved into your dorm for the time being. And by moving in, you meant she had made space for her typewriter on your desk. It hadn’t been discussed beforehand, you had just gotten back from one of your anger management classes and had seen her already at your desk, typing away. It had brought you to a stop in your doorway, just looking at her back.

What about Enid? You had asked. She hadn’t graced you with an answer, instead turning back to her typewriter to continue her writing hour. Enid had later, of course, said that it was talked about beforehand and she had essentially given her blessing. Besides, it gave her more space to hang out with Yoko and Divina.

Not that she was kicking Wednesday out! Enid made extra sure to explain that, because all of Wednesday’s things were still in the room (sans the typewriter and one of the pillows from her bed). It almost drew a laugh out of you when Enid desperately tried to backtrack that she wasn’t getting rid of her roommate.

Now, after another late anger management session (not a class that time, they had shoved you into a therapy session. Just showed how well you were doing), you were laying upside down on your nest trying to fill out your “homework.” It was bullshit and did not make you want to keep your anger under control.

“You’re not focusing,” Wednesday said when you let out another sigh. She hadn’t even looked up from her novel.

"It's like a kindergarten book," you groaned. "For angry kids."

"It’s supposed to help ease your anger," she continued.

"Well now it's just making me more angry," you grumbled before pulling yourself back into a sitting position.

The words on the pages blurred together as you did your best to read the instructions. It was stupid. What are some general events that lead to anger for you? That stupid workbook, that’s what led to anger. You even made sure to write it down, just so your therapist would know you were serious.

You were mid-sentence (mid-rant, if you were being honest) when the workbook was pulled from your lap. A complaint was on the tip of your tongue until you looked up and saw Wednesday standing in front of you, book in hand and raised brow directed at you. She looked at you for a moment before sitting herself down in your lap without warning.

Wrapping your arms around her waist was like second nature, and she certainly didn’t seem to mind. There was a little bit of shifting, a bit of adjusting, and then she was fully settled between your legs with your thighs on either side of her. She placed the workbook in her lap on her raised knees and pulled the pen from your hand.

“What are your physical cues for anger?” She asked, reading the question on the page.

“I don’t know,” you said with a noncommittal shrug, followed quickly by an “ouch” when she kicked your calf.

“What are your physical cues for anger?” Wednesday asked again.

“I-” you took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “My pulse gets faster.” Wednesday wrote it down.

“Anything else?”

You both continued like that; Wednesday verbally asking you the questions and having you answer them so she could write them down. As much as you hated to admit it, it helped. Doing it on your own made you more angry, frustrated, and honestly? You would willingly bash someone’s head in if you had to answer one more question about how you were feeling.

But when Wednesday was asking? When you could have that physical contact with her and rest your chin on your shoulder while she asked you questions? Writing the answers down for you in her stunning handwriting? It was almost relaxing. Something about it kept your heartbeat steady and your mind at ease.

Wednesday’s assistance on your new homework joined the routine you were finally starting to create again. The day before class or therapy, after she was done with her writing hour, she would sit in your lap (either in your room or hers), pull out the workbook, and ask you the questions.

“Focus,” Wednesday scolded when you peppered a few more kisses along her jaw.

“I’m focused,” you said. “Ask again.”

“What number did you reach on your anger metre this week?” She asked; consciously or not, she tilted her head slightly so you could kiss that spot behind her ear.

“A four,” you mumbled against her skin. “No, five.”

“What caused it?” She asked.

“Tyler looking at you on Saturday,” you said, your arms tightening around her waist at the memory.

“What number did you reach?” She asked again.

“A nine,” you said, completely ignoring what you had told her only moments before.

“Much better,” Wednesday said, more to herself than to you. Damn her for getting real answers out of you.

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you whispered.

Without a word, Wednesday closed the book and placed it and the pencil on the floor beside your nest. As was routine, she quickly turned around while you forced the both of you to fall onto the nest, her head tucked underneath your chin. Your arms stayed wrapped around her, holding her close.

Her breath tickled your collarbone as you let your shoulders finally relax. Your mind was still thinking back to Tyler, and the specific look he gave Wednesday, and how all you had wanted to do was beat him senseless. That voice in your head had agreed, and if Wednesday hadn't physically stood in front of you, you would've done it.

"Stop it," Wednesday said softly.

"Not doing anything," you answered, but tried to pull her impossibly closer anyway.

"Stop thinking about it," she continued.

I can't, you thought. But then you felt her lips on your neck, barely there, and the thoughts vanished. All you could think about was the softness of her skin, the warmth between you, the smell of her hair. Something fancy, expensive, but not overwhelming. She smelled like home.

You pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head, draped a wing over her, and let yourself fall asleep.

You ignored the fact that when you woke up, Wednesday was sneezing and trying to (gently) shove your wing off.

It turned into a thing. Wednesday would come over about every other night (and always on therapy night) and just stay. Not talking, not doing anything, just letting you hold her and sit or lay there. Her presence was calming, which was ironic considering how many more threats she was willing to throw out during the day. But the moment you both got back to your room it was like she was a completely different person.

You hoped she wasn’t changing herself for you. She was a strong, painfully independent young lady, so deep down you knew she wasn’t. But a part of you was still worried. If she changed just for you then she wouldn’t be your Wednesday.

“Stop thinking so loudly or I’m going to pickle your brain,” Wednesday threatened in a half-asleep voice.

Never mind. She wasn’t changing at all.

You should play piano again, your therapist had recommended one session. It’s a healthy outlet. Yeah, healthy outlet blah blah blah. It was ridiculous, you didn’t need a healthy outlet, you didn’t even need an outlet. You were fine, you hadn’t even beat anyone up since… So really, you were doing better than most.

When you got back to Nevermore and tried to figure out where to go, you paused. You should just go back to your dorm and sleep. Wednesday should be there soon, if she wasn’t already settled, and you could hold her and forget about the world for the rest of the night. Maybe, if you buttered her up enough, she’d even tolerate a few kisses.

But on the other hand, the Opera hall was just right there…

It didn’t take long to get into the Opera hall and sit down at the grand piano on the stage. The keys were cool against your fingers as you halfheartedly played a few scales, a few bars of some indiscriminate song, a riff or two. They needed to get it tuned again, but that was alright. It just reminded you more of home.

You sat at the bench properly and placed both hands on the keys, thinking only for a moment before playing a song. A simple one, one that usually had words accompanying it but you couldn’t bring yourself to even hum the chorus. But it was kind of nice, getting to play something again. Something you didn’t have to play, but that you wanted to play. Maybe your therapist was right.

You slammed your hands on the keys and let out a groan. 

Ugh. Maybe your therapist was right.

“Let’s grab your cello,” you said one night while Wednesday was cuddled into your side as a movie continued to play on Wednesday’s laptop. She had tried to claim she just wanted to learn more about technology, but you knew it was simply because yours (previously Nicky’s) had finally bitten the dust after nine long years.

“I have class in the morning,” she said as her fingers continued to draw patterns on the small stretch of exposed skin on your hip.

“If we don’t grab it, I will relapse and beat the shit out of someone,” you said without hesitation.

It was a low blow. But when Wednesday sighed, stood up, and pulled you with her to her dorm, you knew it had worked anyway. And you didn’t even feel the smallest amount of shame about it. After all, Wednesday should know you weren’t serious. Usually. It was sweet that she was trying to keep you on the straight and narrow, though.

That was big for her.

The lights were off when you opened the door, so you did your best to stay silent. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the dark room, and you zeroed in the cello case sitting near Wednesday’s bed. The floor squeaked underneath your feet, but that was fine, the Trio were supposed to be out-

-a scream-

“-fuck!-”

-something hit you in the chest-

“-ouch!-”

-you reached out and grabbed something. It was almost fuzzy and was moving like a rat caught in a trap. The extremely bright light turned on and numerous groans echoed through the room, including your own. Once you blinked enough times to focus again, the entire scene unfolded.

With the lights on, you could see Yoko and Divina over in Enid’s bed, all mused hair and tired eyes. They both have stuffed animals in their hands, primed and ready to throw. How intimidating, you thought with a sneer. In your hand, swinging like a kitten in its mother’s teeth, was Enid. You had her by the scruff of her neck and she was half-wolfed out, ears and tail stooped low.

“Seriously?” You asked, looking between all three of them.

“You scared me,” Enid tried to quickly explain.

“I didn’t even make a noise!”

“Your eyes glow!” She said again. “That’s terrifying!”

“This isn’t a new revelation, Sinclair,” you argued.

“It’s old news,” Yoko agreed with a nod.

“Even I knew,” Divina mumbled. She still looked the most tired out of all of them.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Enid whined.

“I did,” Wednesday finally said. “Over a year ago.”

Enid slunk in your hand even more, if that was possible. Her poor tail wagged halfheartedly and you wanted to laugh at her. She was just… such a baby. Compared to Yoko? It was truly a hilarious dynamic, how Divina managed to put up with them both, you had no idea-

“-you threw a stuffed animal at me?” You asked when your eyes landed on the plush dragon resting at your feet. Wow, suddenly no one wanted to look you in the eyes. “What made you think that would stop an intruder?”

“It was the only thing we had,” Yoko argued.

“Told you Wednesday’s side was safer,” Divina grumbled.

“Sleep on my bed and I’ll gut you like the fish you are,” Wednesday threatened.

“Bite me, Addams-”

“-My metre is at an 8!” You shouted, and everyone quickly shut up. The growing migraine in your head stabilised. Thank god.

“So… how is your night going?” Divina asked after an embarrassingly long length of silence.

“It was going great, thank you for asking,” you said.

Only when Enid shifted did you remember you were still holding her up. You quickly placed her feet on the ground, holding her until she was steady again before letting go. On instinct, you patted the top of her head and scratched behind her ear, and the way her face lit up? Dropped your anger down to almost a 5!

“Are we having a sleepover now?” Enid asked. Her tail gave away her excitement.

“Not if you wish to wake up tomorrow-”

“-Yes we are,” you interrupted Wednesday with a pointed look. “Since now it’s late as fuck and you all have class.”

“If you were going to come to this conclusion regardless, we could have stayed in your room,” Wednesday said with her own scowl directed at you.

“We could push our beds together-”

“-absolutely not,” everyone said while Enid just pouted and crawled into her own bed in defeat.

“You’ll have to pay for this,” Wednesday told you as she walked past you to get to her own bed.

“I know,” you huffed. She would come up with a terrible price, there was no doubt about it. You walked over to the lightswitch and waited for everyone to get settled before you-

“-wait!” Enid cried, and you all jumped and looked at her. “Let me close my eyes first.”

“Why the fuck do you need to close your eyes before I turn the lights off?” You asked. She sunk further into the bed between Divina and Yoko.

“Your eyes are scary in the dark.”

You kept direct eye contact with her for a moment, seeing if she would back down. When she didn’t, you did the only logical thing you could think of; you turned the light off. Enid yelped before you heard shuffling and sighs coming from where they were all laying.

“Stop scaring our girlfriend,” Divina complained.

“Then tell her to grow up,” you shot back as you walked across the room to where Wednesday was already settled, getting in on her left side and turning your back to her.

“We could have been comfy in your bed,” Wednesday whispered.

“Shut up,” you whispered back before closing your eyes.

If you felt Wednesday shift so her foot was touching your calf, you didn’t bring it up.

Everyone was gone for class by the time you actually got up. It hadn’t been on purpose, you just woke up from yet another nightmare and couldn’t bring yourself to get up in time to say goodbye. Thankfully Thing hung around and helped you carry the cello to the Opera hall where you placed it right beside the piano.

Although Wednesday only tried once to play a duet with you. It had been a simple piece to get the vibe of each other’s playing styles - Canon in D, of course - but you had gotten the strong urge to start embellishing your part. And embellish you did. Until Wednesday stopped, looked at you once with the look she usually reserved for Xavier, and started packing up.

You just nodded to yourself because, honestly, you weren’t entirely surprised. She took her music far too seriously, and you took it far too unseriously. It was a fair reaction.

“We should have a sleepover,” Ajax said later that evening while you were laying on the floor in his and Kent’s room while Enid and Wednesday had their date night.

“What are you, five?” You asked as you exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Legal smoke. Of course.

“It could be all of us,” he continued as if you hadn’t even spoken. “The three of us, the Trio, Wednesday I guess, and Bianca and Eugene.”

“Why would we have a sleepover?” You asked.

“I think you deserve it,” he said before he brought the joint to his lips.

“That’s hella gay,” you said as you nudged his foot with your own.

It didn’t take long for you to bring it up to Wednesday who, even though she didn’t seem eager, begrudgingly agreed it wouldn’t be a bad idea. You all could have it in hers and Enid’s dorm since it was the biggest out of the groups. Just push the beds further against the walls and there was enough space for everyone.

“Please do not sneak out,” Mama Weems had begged you once you had informed her of the event. “Or get yourselves into danger.”

“Oh please,” you said with a huff, “when do any of us get into danger?”

She didn’t dignify your question with an answer.

Saturday morning was the day for preparations. After a nice walk to Jericho in the cold (which everyone tried to pretend wasn’t really all that bad), everyone split up to do what they were supposed to. The Trio went to go get snacks, Wednesday, Eugene, and Bianca were tasked with picking a few movies and board games, and you, Ajax, and Kent went to get enough coffees to kill a herd of elephants.

Wednesday had banned herself from the Weathervane until your anger was under control. It was a sweet gesture. Jokes on her, you were always eager and willing to beat Tyler’s ass. Thankfully the boys had kept you distracted just enough to not think too hard about the situation at hand.

You should make him pay, the voice in your head said for the first time in two or three weeks.

Fantastic.

Once everyone had reconvened near the gazebo in the middle of town, you all made your way back to Nevermore. There was an air of excitement around everyone, which was a bit surprising. You were all either adults or very close to becoming one, but for some reason the thought of a sleepover was enough to get everyone giddy. Even Wednesday didn’t seem completely irritated with the idea.

Until, of course, everyone got back to the dorm and game night started.

“Uno,” Bianca said again which had everyone on the verge of complete frustration.

“How are you doing this?” Kent asked as he looked at his hand of what was probably two dozen cards.

“It’s witchcraft,” Enid grumbled.

“No, that’s Wednesday,” you said, your eyes narrowing when you looked at the single card in Wednesday’s hand.

“It’s just a gift,” Divina said with a shrug as she gave Bianca a high-five.

“I think it’s a Siren thing,” Ajax said with a nod. He, too, had a solid dozen cards in his hand.

So did you, but that wasn’t the point.

“Being a cheater is a Siren thing?” Yoko asked with a raised brow.

“That’s illogical,” Eugene cut in. He had about three cards, so he was a lot closer than you. “Otherwise Kent wouldn’t be losing so badly.”

“Dude, you just got wrecked by a 14 year old.”

“Shut up,” Kent said as he elbowed you in the side.

“Someone just go already,” Enid huffed.

The game continued, and Bianca won that one. Then Wednesday won the next one. Then Wednesday again, and Bianca, and Wednesday, and Bianca, and even Thing. The fact that no one else could even get down to one card was concerning to all of you, though not surprising. If you all were good at one thing? It was not Uno.

And then someone (Yoko) put down a +4 when she knew you were next.

The surprise of such a card made you sneeze, your wings flying out and creating a gust of wind that blew the cards around the entirety of the dorm.

“You bitch-”

“-you did that on purpose-”

“-you’re such a sore loser-”

“-fuck, guys, was that my fault?” You asked as you wiped the invisible snot from your nose. “Shit, my bad, guess we should do something else, huh?”

“You’re such a dick-”

“-no one else was complaining-”

“-I was about to win-”

“-how about a movie?” You asked as you shamelessly let your wings flap again to clear the remaining few cards. On accident, of course.

“We should watch a classic,” Ajax said with a solemn nod. “Like Shrek.”

“Losers don’t get to choose the movie,” Yoko said without hesitation.

“Don’t say that,” Enid whined.

“It means Bianca or Wednesday gets to choose the movie,” Divina continued.

“No slashers,” you said with a pointed finger at Wednesday.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. But you all knew better.

“If you put on a slasher, Enid will scream,” Yoko said.

“I will not!”

“No one wants that,” Bianca said with a huff.

It was quickly decided that Bianca would choose the movie, and she quickly threw Avatar up onto the bootleg projector you and Eugene had managed to piece together. Thankfully, after only a little bit of slapping it around, it turned on and threw the movie up onto the wall.

“Excellent job, Genie boy,” you said as you held your hand out for a high five, which he quickly returned with a giddy smile.

The pallet you had forced Bianca and Yoko to help you make was immaculate, if you did say so yourself. There was enough room for everyone PLUS all the pillows and blankets. Everyone was settled in their respective groups when you fell onto the side by Wednesday, your wings sticking away from everyone else.

"Is everyone asleep?" You whispered into Wednesday's ear when the movie was only halfway finished.

"Yes," she whispered back, finally shifting until her back was pressed tight against your front and you could sling your arm over her waist.

"Can I give you a goodnight kiss?" You asked, still as quiet as possible.

Wednesday didn't verbally answer, but turned her head just enough to lean up and kiss your lips. You sighed, leaning down to ease the potential ache on her neck. Your fingers grasped her sleep shirt in an attempt to stay cordial around everyone. They might have been asleep but there was no need to-

-a flash went off.

"Delete the photo before I delete you from the face of the earth," Wednesday threatened.

Everyone shuffled around, pretending to still be asleep. You just chuckled and pulled Wednesday closer once again. But as payback, you let your wing stretch out over everyone to cover them all.

You pretended not to hear the sneezing and sniffling.

everyone but her pt.24

Summary: Graduation leads to summer break, which leads to parties and chaos galore. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, mentions of blackouts, drug use (weed) 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 should have felt bad. Really you should have, and you did to an extent. You knew everyone was graduating and still had nothing planned for it. There had been no true talk of where they were going to college, what they were doing during the summer, none of it. And you felt bad, really you did.

But in the grand scheme of things going through your mind? The passing of your birthday? Everyone else’s plans weren’t top of the list. Except for Wednesday, of course.

They didn’t bother telling you either, the voice in your head said as you watched the graduation rehearsal. You hadn’t necessarily been invited to the rehearsal, but as a technical faculty member, no one questioned it. Besides, you had wanted an excuse to see Wednesday getting irritated with the whole ordeal.

It was the little things in life.

Lucky for you (and Wednesday), her name was second; second only to Bianca, who had gotten valedictorian over Wednesday by a mere .002 of a GPA point. She made it a point to not smile, as usual, and quickly left the stage. With a single glare directed at Thornhill, she made her way to your seat and sat down directly beside you with a huff.

“This is a pointless event,” she said as she straightened her back and crossed her hands over her knees.

“It’s an important milestone in any young adult’s life,” you said as you read off the program in your hand. “Says so right here.” She looked at where your finger was pointing.

“If it weren’t for my parents’ insistence, I wouldn’t even bear the torture,” she continued.

“I know, dear,” you mumbled half-heartedly as you continued to read. It wasn’t interesting, but you hadn’t read the one for your own graduation so… colour you curious.

“Must we stay through everyone?” Wednesday asked once you still had yet to get up from your seat.

“Yes we must,” you said with a nod. “They’re our friends and we love them.”

“Speak for yourself,” she grumbled.

“You don’t love them?” You asked, turning to look at her. She had that adorable scowl on her face. “Is that why you let all of them hug you the other day?”

“Mention it again and I’ll-”

“-rain hellfire on me and my descendants for the next thousand years, blah blah blah,” you finished for her with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I know the drill.”

“Your interruption of my threat tells me you’re now immune,” Wednesday mumbled to herself. “I’ll have to switch my tactics.”

“I’m pretty horrified by kisses,” you said, finally turning to look at her with the deadpan look she so often gave you. Ajax’s name was called; they were almost done. “Maybe you should try that a few times to see if it works.”

She looked you dead in the eye with that cold stare that so often left grown men shivering in their boots. Lucky for you, there was a softness buried deep within. It used to intimidate you, sure, but now? Oh, now it was full of love and you knew she would do anything for you with just that one look.

Enid’s name was called.

“I’ll think about it.”

—---

Graduation went off without a hitch, as everyone had expected… that was a flat out lie, everyone had expected something to happen. Between Yoko’s overbearing father, Divina and Kent’s overachieving parents, Enid’s… well, everything about Enid’s family, Bianca’s mother, and the Addams family? Surely something was going to happen, even at any point.

You were still expecting someone to start something when everyone got together afterwards. What exactly it was, you had no idea. You just knew it had to be something. All those mommy and daddy issues in one spot? It was just begging for disaster.

And you were right.

It hadn’t been Mr. Tanaka, who had shaken your hand and questioned you about working at Marcus’ firm before you gave him a civil “not at this time.” He didn’t seem too happy about the answer, but took it nonetheless with a polite smile. Yoko gave you a look that practically screamed “help me,” and you just returned her look with a smile and left her there.

It hadn’t been Kent and Divina’s parents who, aside from the occasional snide remark about their grades, were actually behaving. They made sure to give you polite smiles and let you move along your way. They were your favourites by far, always minding their own business.

Surprisingly it hadn’t been Mrs. Barclay, who had made the very wise decision to keep her mouth shut. You had both clashed the few times she came to visit Bianca, and it seemed she had learned at least one thing; don’t upset Bianca in your presence. You gave Bianca a congratulatory kiss on the cheek and sent Mrs. Barclay nothing more than a polite smile before moving on.

Even Mrs. Sinclair was doing well, all things considered. Which was beyond an improvement, because at the rate she had been going, you were going to kill her. If she hurt Enid one more time you were seriously going to kill her. Do it, the voice in your head said when you waved in their direction, it’ll be worth it. You decided against it; at least for the moment.

And the Addamses were… well, they were the Addamses. Sweet as could be in their own macabre way. As much as they had driven you nuts over the winter break, you had missed the energy they so often brought to the table. It had been long enough since… so it was nice to be able to talk with them fairly normally again.

None of the usual suspects were causing the usual trouble, and that was all good and well. Everyone was talking with each other, laughing, having fun, it was the closest thing to a normal high school gathering an Outcast school could have. You just got to listen to the Addamses go on and on about everyone, their approvals and reservations (which, quite frankly, was hilarious).

By the end of the night, everyone had mingled, laughed, cried, and had the best graduation they possibly could. The following weekend went on without a hitch as well, with food and games and, surprisingly, no stress. If that was how life was going to be from now on, then you would be able to get through it.

Until everyone just had to ruin it.

You don’t know who had initially come up with the idea, aside from the obvious fact that it wasn’t Wednesday. Part of you suspected it was Yoko, or maybe even Ajax. But then you saw the smiles on The Addamses faces and you just knew who was at fault.

It felt like your heart was going to explode as you watched everyone get into their cars the next morning, prepped and ready to make the trek to the Addams’ mansion. In a daze, you gave Wednesday a rushed kiss on the cheek - ignoring the blush that soon followed - and took off to meet them there. They’ll die in those cars, the voice in your head said when you finally arrived at the mansion.

“Thanks for that,” you mumbled as you fell until you were sitting on the porch steps, your hand clutching your chest in an attempt to keep your heart where it was supposed to be.

You didn’t stop yourself from running forward to greet everyone when the cars pulled up to the mansion. Each face was checked and double checked and triple checked until you were sure everyone, every single person, was safe and sound and out of those metal death traps. Mr. Addams led everyone inside to show them around while you hung back with Wednesday.

“No more cars,” you said simply. She answered by reaching out and taking your hand.

There was something exciting about watching everyone - sans parents, who had finally left after an hour or two - just mill about the mansion, having fun and existing. Something about the space brought out something different in people. It led to more fun, more freedom, something that was usually kept hidden in the outside world. It was a controlled chaos that led to laughter and a genuine sense of joy.

You hated it.

“Sinclair, if you try to sneak up on me one more time, I’m going to get you declawed,” you called out when you heard the floor squeak behind your chair again.

“You’re no fun anymore,” Enid said with a huff. “Wednesday is rubbing off on you.”

“Not yet,” you said as you turned the page of your book, “but maybe soon if I’m lucky.”

“Um, ew,” Enid said, and you could hear the grimace on her face. Which you quickly saw when she stepped into your view. “I did not need to hear that.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” you shot back, “I’ve seen you, Yoko, and Divina sneak off plenty of times.”

“You were spying?” She asked incredulously.

“It’s not spying when you say “don’t come in, you won’t like what you see.” That’s just accepting the obvious,” you said quickly.

Enid glared at you with her mouth wide open before she shut it quickly. You almost wanted to laugh when she rolled her shoulders back and tilted her head slightly. That slight air of faux superiority she got was on full display. Got her.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your book,” she said with a forced smile before she walked away again.

You really wished Enid had been the only one to pull all that nonsense, but that would have been asking for too much. Divina and Kent were constantly trying to prank you (which didn’t work, at least not in the mansion; you knew all the hiding spots). Ajax kept trying to rope you into smoking whatever unusual plants Mrs. Addams was growing. Eugene was being sweet, he just kept asking you a million questions.

And Yoko. Oh, Yoko was going to pay.

“Maybe if you weren’t so dusty, Wednesday would kiss you more often,” Yoko taunted as she poured the soap into her hands.

“I’m not dusty,” you grumbled as you tried not to overheat from the water in the tub. “It’s a natural coating.”

“It’s dust and it’s to the point of being unsanitary,” Yoko continued. 

Without giving you another chance to argue, she started rubbing it into your wings. Your eyes closed as your whole body shivered, just once, before you could settle back down again. It felt good, you wouldn’t deny it. A soft touch, they felt heavier from the water yet cleaner. She started slowly working her way away from where your wing joined your back.

“We should probably talk,” Yoko said as she neared the middle of your left wing.

“I don’t wanna talk,” you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

“We need to,” she continued.

You didn’t want to talk. It had been a wonderful seven months of nothing serious, no talk about what had happened or getting arrested or everyone treating you like some kind of leper. A fantastic seven months of… harbouring those feelings and letting them fester…

“I needed you,” you whispered. “I just lost…” you exhaled shakily. “And I needed you.”

“I know,” Yoko said. Her fingers slowed down in their cleaning, but never stopped completely.

“Why?”

“You’ll hate my explanation,” she said. “I hate my explanation.”

“My whole world was turned upside down in the span of two months,” you said as you tilted your head in her direction. “I can handle your bullshit explanation.”

Her hands stopped moving.

“I just…” she sighed through her nose. “I don’t know what happened.”

“How can you not know?”

“I don’t know.” Her fingers scratched lightly over the feathers, making you shiver again. “I remember pulling you off of Marcus at the funeral.” You squeezed your eyes shut at the memory. “And then you getting arrested.”

“Yoko,” you turned around a bit more to finally look at her. She wasn’t meeting your eyes. “That was a solid two or three weeks.”

“I know,” she said with a frustrated huff. “It’s bullshit, but it’s like I blacked out.”

Wait.

“Blacked out?” You asked, turning your head slowly until you were looking into the water that was quickly running cold.

“Yeah.” Yoko’s fingers continued moving again. “Enid and Divina had to tell me what I said and did.” She sighed. “Told you you would hate it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you whispered to yourself. Blackouts… “Did you have a headache afterwards?”

“A gnarly one, yeah,” she said, her voice a little louder than it had been.

“Huh,” you said as you subconsciously nodded your head.

“Why do you ask?”

You thought back to the months after… and the different incidents you had had. Coming to after Marcus, your own hands covered in the blood of your kin. The few times you had gotten into a car only to not remember a single second of the trip. When you would get extremely angry and couldn’t recall how or when you got back to your own dorm, or even when Wednesday had crawled into your arms.

“I’ve had a few blackouts lately too,” you said as you swiped your tongue over your lips. “With a massive migraine after.”

“That’s weird,” Yoko mumbled, finishing the last few feathers on your left wing.

“So I don’t totally hate your explanation,” you said when Yoko moved to the base of your right wing.

“Only a little,” she said with a humourless chuckle.

“Only a little,” you repeated with your own smile to yourself. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Yoko’s hands disappeared from your wing, and for a moment you didn’t hear anything. Until only a few seconds later when you felt those same hands hold both sides of your head and pull you back before you felt her cold lips press against your forehead. Your eyes closed and you breathed out slowly.

“Never again,” she confirmed before lightly pushing you forward and continuing cleaning your other wing.

As much as you hated talking about it, it certainly cleared the air with everyone. It brought a completely new concern, but you could at least ease the other feelings that had been festering in your chest. You could almost even laugh again, if you were being honest, which was going to make the Addams’ celebratory ball all the more exciting.

But then Wednesday, of all people, had to be a goddamn fucking traitor.

“Your tie is crooked,” Wednesday said before you could even finish.

“Then fix it, Miss Perfect,” you grumbled, yet stood patiently as she stepped forward.

“Anger metre?” She asked without halting her motions.

“Two.” You shivered when her fingers brushed lightly against your neck. They were cold. “Eugene and Pugsley spilled my coffee this afternoon.”

“Shall I deal with them for you?” She patted your tie against your chest and kept her hands where they were, looking up at you with a tilted head. “It would be my pleasure.”

“No thank you,” you said as you pulled her closer by her hips. “But I know how you can help me lower that metre.”

The smallest of smiles pulled at the corner of Wednesday’s lips as you leaned down. You tried not to laugh when you felt her stand on her toes to reach you with a kiss. While the rest of her was cold, her lips were soft and warm. It was a lovely contrast, especially when paired with her hands on your neck. If you could just-

-the doorbell echoed through the rooms.

“You should go get it,” she said as she pulled back.

“Not my house,” you mumbled and tried to chase her. She stopped you with a well-placed finger on your lips.

“But your guests,” she continued. You could see the little smirk she was barely trying to conceal.

“My guests?” You asked. But nonetheless, you straightened your back and headed downstairs.

Everyone you passed on your way down was either dressed or almost dressed. Even Eugene and Pugsley looked stunning as they helped Thing finish tying his bowtie. He looked very handsome, which you made sure to tell him when you passed. It was wonderful getting to see everyone having fun, almost more excited than they had been for the Rave’N as different Addamses from all around continued to arrive. Even Mama Weems had come by which was a lovely thing indeed, you thought as you opened the front door.

And stood face-to-face with Momma and Pop.

“Fuck.”

“Evenin’ to you too, darlin’,” Pop said with his big smile that usually meant trouble.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as everyone started filing in. And you did mean everyone.

“Wensdy called and invited us,” Pop continued. “You know we ain’t known for passin’ up a party.”

“What do you mean, she called?” You asked right when the woman herself walked down the stairs with a troublesome look on her face.

Oh, you were going to get her back for all of this.

You didn’t have time to question anyone any further as the noise from the ballroom increased. Everyone started making their way in that direction, all the while you kept your eyes locked with Wednesday’s in an unblinking glare. She was high enough on the staircase that you could see her over everyone’s heads. All the while her little smile grew.

“You’re a little demon, did you know that?” You asked her once you had the opportunity to get closer.

“My parents have been wanting to meet them,” Wednesday said with the slightest shrug. “Might as well give your family an Addams welcome.”

“You just want to see if they can handle it,” you continued. Nonetheless, you held your arm out for her to take, which she did instantly.

“You’re speculating,” she said as she leaned into your side.

“Well it certainly wasn’t because you decided, for the first time, to be nice,” you said. Her hands gently squeezed your arm.

“I might surprise you,” she said softly as you both finally stepped into the ballroom.

It was pandemonium in the best of ways. The gang was scattered around, interacting with whoever was willing to talk with them. Ajax and Kent were already roaming around, doing their best to start shit. Divina and Enid were dancing at the far side of the room. Eugene, Pugsley, and Thing were plotting something. Bianca, bless her soul, was just standing around talking with Yoko, but you could see the smile on her face.

Your family, on the other hand, was so blended in with the Addamses that you almost couldn’t differentiate. Abuelita and Grandpa were with Grandmama Addams, probably talking shit about everyone. Tio and Auntie C were talking with Uncle Fester which was… more than terrifying. All the kids had split up to talk with whoever they could find. And your parents were talking with Weems and Mr. and Mrs. Addams.

Laughing and smiling.

“They haven’t started running yet,” Wednesday said as she pulled you into a dance. The only one you knew. “That’s a good sign.”

“That’s a bad sign,” you said. Your arms held Wednesday’s waist tightly. “It means they’re getting along.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand you,” Wednesday huffed.

“They’re going to cause trouble together,” you said; you couldn’t take your eyes off them. They were just standing there and talking and smiling and it was unsettling.

“You and I could cause trouble.” Your head snapped down to look at Wednesday, who almost had a blush on her cheeks.

“Did you just try to flirt with me?” You asked.

“Enid said I should try it,” she mumbled, doing her best not to make eye contact with you. “She believes it will make you feel better.”

“And you listened to her?” You asked. Your dancing had turned to little more than swaying to the music, with Wednesday’s arms now wrapped around your neck.

“Don’t rub it in,” Wednesday said with a slight frown that was accompanied by a darker blush that nearly hid her freckles.

“What else did you come up with?” You asked.

“You have lost your chance,” she said.

“Worth a try,” you said with a smile. You tried your hardest not to laugh when you felt Wednesday purposefully step on your foot.

Oh how you loved her.

The party lasted long into the night, with everyone moving around and dancing and just enjoying life. You managed to drag Wednesday over to where all the other kids were, including your own siblings. They were all laughing together and having fun. Enid was talking incredibly fast with Hailey, who gave you a sad smile before looking back at Enid.

“Never told me your family was cool as hell,” Ajax said as he patted your back harder than probably intended.

“They’re annoying as hell,” you said without any malice.

But as you watched all three of your families interacting, you almost felt… happy. Knowing that the people you loved also loved each other? No drama, nothing upsetting, just fun. Was that what life could be? Not necessarily the party, but everyone getting along and the atmosphere being so lighthearted that for once it didn’t feel like you were trying to breathe underwater?

When you finally crawled into Wednesday’s bed with her at the end of the night, and you held Wednesday close, your heart felt lighter.

Your family and Weems stayed for a few days after, much more relaxed than at the party. Surprisingly, they behaved the entire stay. By the time they left, they all raved about how much they liked the Addamses, “even if they’re a little odd,” as your Grandpa put it. Which was bold coming from him, but you weren’t going to say anything about it.

Everyone bid their goodbyes, making you promise you would come down soon. Mama Weems gave you a kiss on the forehead and said she would see you before long, which made you feel happier again. It almost gave you a taste of what real, adult life was going to be like.

Everyone got restless again a few days later which led to a wonderful plan.

“Bianca has to be the one to drive,” you said with a note of finality that no one argued with before crawling into the van that you hadn’t known the Addams had owned.

It was a quick trip down to Wildwood. You kept your eyes closed and held Wednesday’s hand a little too tight, but she was a good sport. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you hopped out of the van when Bianca parked it, doing your best not to outwardly show everyone how terrified you were.

But then the pandemonium started once again.

Some of the group wanted to ride the rides, some wanted to play the carnival games, others just wanted to go down and walk on the beach. It was quickly decided that everyone would split up and do what they wanted to do before meeting back up on the pier not too far away.

Ajax and Kent went to find the games, Bianca and Divina went down to the beach, Yoko, Enid, Eugene, and Pugsley went to find the rides. And you grabbed Wednesday’s hand and started aimlessly walking up and down the boardwalk. Every now and then the stupid tram car would scare you shitless with its creepy robotic voice, and it almost got a laugh out of Wednesday.

“Shut up,” you told her once the tram car snuck up on you for what was probably the eighth time that day.

“I didn’t laugh,” Wednesday said, but you could see the softness in her features.

“You want to,” you grumbled as you pulled her closer to your side. In a split-second decision, you let go of her hand to sling your arm over her shoulders. She stiffened under you for only a moment before relaxing once again.

“Anger metre?” Wednesday asked.

“A thousand, thanks to that fucking tram car,” you said with a glare at the back of said boardwalk demon.

“Try again,” she said. You felt her hesitate before her own arm wrapped around your waist.

“A zero now,” you said with a smile to yourself. She was showing PDA. She was shamelessly showing PDA.

“Don’t expect this all the time,” Wednesday grumbled. Her words meant nothing when she tightened her grip on you.

You both continued to walk around the boardwalk, not really talking much. It was more than enough to just enjoy the other’s presence. People milled about and the boardwalk got more crowded as the sun started to kiss the water on the horizon. When you could both barely move, you veered off the boardwalk to the beach, where you just stood and looked out over the water.

The sun was leaving a beautiful orange glow that hypnotised you. With a few clouds in the sky adding a splash of contrast, it warmed you from the inside out. A beautiful sunset to end a beautiful day with a beautiful girl. Things almost felt perfect.

“I know I’m not good with emotions,” Wednesday said, “or vulnerability.” The crowd on the boardwalk could be heard from across the beach. “However, I would like to inform you that if you only asked, I would set the world on fire for you.”

“That’s a lot of emotion for you, mi vida,” you said as you turned your head to look down at her.

“Your Spanish is abysmal,” she said as she looked at you in return. “That, however, almost sounded natural.”

“I’ll keep practising then,” you said with a smile.

In the setting sun, Wednesday’s eyes melted into a warm brown that reminded you of her coffee in the mornings. A comfort that was often reserved for mornings alone in your dorm, where you could both wake up slowly and enjoy the silence. You could see the future in her eyes. It was a future filled with more coffee and slow mornings.

“I love you,” you whispered. She didn’t smile, but there was the slightest crinkle in her eyes.

She pulled you down into a kiss that tasted like I love you too.

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

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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

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

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?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

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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