Everyone But Her Pt.36

everyone but her pt.36

Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?

Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”

“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”

If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.

Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year.  Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.

“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”

Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?

“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”

Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.

A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.

Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.

“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee.  “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”

She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.

“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”

“A bit,” you said with a nod.

It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.

Except.

“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.

The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.

It was the murder.

If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.

Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.

There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.

You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.

“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.

Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.

“I need to,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.

Now that was worth coming back to the present for.

—---

“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.

“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”

“Then be more specific next time,” she said.

You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!

Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.

“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.

“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.

Well. Except for Enid.

“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”

“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.

“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.

Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.

“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.

“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.

“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.

Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.

It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.

The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.

“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”

She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.

As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.

It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.

It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.

You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.

Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.

“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.

Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.

“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.

You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.

“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.

“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.

“Can I still come?” Enid asked.

“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.

“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.

“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.

“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”

“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.

You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.

“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”

“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.

“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.

“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”

Divina laughed.

“Enid, help me out here.”

“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.

And by god did you fall just a little more in love.

The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.

“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”

You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”

You froze. How did she know?

She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.

“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”

Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?

Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.

“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.

Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.

—---

It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.

You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.

Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.

“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.

“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.

“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.

“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”

Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.

And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.

“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.

Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.

“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”

“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”

Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.

You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.

Never mind. You knew what to talk about.

“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”

Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”

“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”

“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.

“It-”

-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.

Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.

And this now seemed like a very bad idea.

“Just… things,” you said.

Coward.

“What kind of things?”

He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.

Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-

-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

“You should listen to it.”

“What?” You blurted out.

Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.

Never again would you say therapy was boring.

—---

Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.

They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.

Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?

“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”

Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.

But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.

Without having to worry about you.

Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.

“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.

“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”

And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.

But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.

“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”

“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.

“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”

Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.

“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.

“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”

“That you know of,” Devan said.

You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”

The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.

“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.

She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.

“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”

“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”

She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.

“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.

It worked.

“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.

You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”

“-They found a foot in his office.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.

“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”

Wednesday didn’t say anything.

Why was she not saying anything?

“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”

She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.

It was fear.

the shakespeare exhibit - part 9

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which it's time to celebrate the holidays

warnings: implied smut

word count: 2900+

author's note: long awaited but finally here

previous part | next part

"Seriously?" Tara asked as she stepped into the living room, a mug of hot chocolate in each hand. Her eyes were trained on the television, which was displaying the Elf title screen in all its fluorescent-glory. "We watch this every Christmas Eve!"

"Exactly!" Chad said, twisting around to grab one of the mugs from her hand. His face was alight with joy, his eyes wide and sparkling. "It's a tradition now!"

Tara glanced at Mindy, who shrugged. "Don't look at me. I wanted to watch Krampus," the girl said.

Chad huffed. "And I told you I'm done with horror movies. We already lived through one." He took a sip from his drink, and his eyebrows raised the moment the hot chocolate touched his tongue. "Tara! This is actually pretty good."

Tara frowned. "'Actually'?"

The boy glanced away sheepishly. "Well, you know, you have the tendency to--"

"Burn things," Sam deadpanned from behind as she exited the kitchen, mugs in her own hands. She handed one to Mindy, who immediately started gulping it down, and then turned to Tara. "The last three times you tried to make anything, our fire alarm went off."

Well maybe we shouldn't have such a sensitive alarm, Tara thought, furrowing her eyebrows. "Whatever," she scoffed, rounding the couch to sit between the twins. She pulled the blanket off Chad and covered herself, ignoring his whines. "Let's just watch Elf."

Mindy reached for the remote, and just as she was about to hit play, there was a knock on the front door. Every tensed slightly--an involuntary reaction none of them seemed to be able to shake--and Sam stood, edging toward the door slowly. She looked out through the peephole, and Tara watched as she sighed with relief, her shoulders relaxing. She undid the locks, opened the door, and Danny popped his head into the living room.

"Am I late?" the man asked as he shuffled inside.

"Perfect timing, man," Chad answered, holding his hand out. Danny dapped him up quickly before settling on the armchair, leaving room for Sam to squeeze beside him. "Okay," Chad started, lifting his legs to put his feet on the coffee table, "Elf time."

Almost as soon as Mindy pressed the play button, there was a thud against the front door. Again, everyone sat up a little straighter. Tara swallowed, her eyes trained on the doorknob as it twisted slightly.

This is it, she thought. Ghostface is going to attack us on Christmas Eve, because why the fuck not?

There was another thud, softer this time, and Danny glanced around the room, resolving to open the door. Everyone's attention was on him as he crept up, looked through the peephole, and then chuckled.

"You've got a present outside, Tara," he said, undoing the locks that Sam had redone and opening the door.

A present? she wondered. It's too late for UPS to be here.

There, in the hallway, beneath the flickering yellow light, stood you, your arms weighed down by bags and a small red spot forming on your forehead. You grinned at the group sitting inside.

"Hi!" you greeted, lifting your hands to show off what you had brought. "I have presents!"

Tara scrambled to stand, hastily placing her hot chocolate on the coffee table, and launched herself into you. You stumbled back a few steps before setting the bags on the floor and wrapping your arms around her waist.

"Hey, pretty girl," you muttered into her hair.

She pulled back, staring up at you with a gleaming smile. "What're you doing here? I thought you were stuck in Zoom calls with overseas family members." She had invited you to the Christmas Eve excursions, but you had declined for the aforementioned reason.

You giggled. "I was, but we ended a bit earlier than normal, so I thought I'd come over." You glanced over the top of your head at the others in the living room. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"The more the merrier, buddy!" Chad exclaimed, holding his hand out as Tara twisted around to stand beside you. You simply stared at him for a moment before taking his hand in your own and shaking it.

Tara couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Stupid, she thought. Chad seemed to be thinking the same thing as he tilted his head yet accepted the handshake.

As you pulled away from Chad, Tara glanced up at you. "Why did you knock so menacingly?" she asked, and then she looked up a little higher at the red mark on your forehead. "Did you use your head?"

You smiled shyly and nodded. "My hands were too full," you admitted. You perked up, whipping around and grabbing the bags you had left by the door. "That reminds me: I have gifts for you guys."

Tara watched you, sighing dreamily. She's so perfect. She'd be such a good mom. She shook her head. No baby thoughts, Tara. Now's not the time.

"This one's for you, Mindy," you said as you handed the girl one of the paper bags. "This is for you, Chad." He greedily accepted the package you held out to him. "Sam, for you." The bag was small and thin, and Tara didn't have to watch to know that it was another bottle of wine. "Uh, Danny, I didn't know you'd be here."

The man shook his head and waved you off. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh!" You reached for your wallet and drew out a few hundred-dollar bills. Tara's eyes widened. Who the hell carries that much cash on them? she thought, before shrugging and thinking, I guess when your parents have as much money as hers do, it doesn't even matter. You held them out to him. "Here! Merry Christmas!"

He simply stared at you, unblinking, for so long that it started to unnerve Tara. Hesitantly, like you would lean down and bite him if he moved too fast, he reached out and took the money from your hands.

"...Thanks," he said. Sam rolled her eyes and leaned toward him, whispering something in his ear. Tara heard the tail-end of the statement: "....family's rich." Danny nodded his head and smiled. "Yeah, thanks. Merry Christmas, kid."

You grinned happily and then turned back to the twins, waiting for them to open their presents. Mindy glanced at Chad, who shrugged and started ripping into the package you had handed him. He pulled out a pristine, red football jersey that had 'Bosa' on the back. Beneath the numbers was a large scribble.

"Holy shit," Chad said, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as he stared at the jersey. "You got this signed by Bosa?! The Bosa?!"

You nodded, giggling. "Yup. Or, well, my dad got him to sign it, but same thing."

Chad leaned back and sighed happily. "Man, you are such a great addition to his family."

Your smile widened at his words, and Tara thought you might start bouncing up and down as she looked at you, a soft smile on her own face. God, I agree with Chad for once, she thought. It's a fucking Christmas miracle.

"Okay," Mindy began, hesitantly opening her own bag. "I don't think you can top that, but let's see what's in here." With careful hands, she pulled out a framed poster, and her jaw dropped so wide that Tara briefly thought it had broken. "No fucking way! Absolutely no fucking way!" She spun it around so that everyone else could see, and even Tara was shocked to see a Stab poster signed by all of the original cast members.

"It was a little difficult tracking everyone down, but we got there eventually," you said, beaming. "I hope you like it."

"Like it? Y/N, this is the best gift I've ever gotten in my entire life!" Mindy practically shouted. Her face fell quickly. "No one tell Anika that. I promised her that the necklace she bought was the best thing ever."

A chorus of laughter erupted throughout the room, and while everyone was distracted, you turned to Tara. "I have something for you," you said, tilting your head in the direction of her bedroom. "Can we...?"

She caught on quickly, nodding fervently, and grabbed your hand, shouting out a, "Watch the movie without me!" to which Sam responded, "Door open, Tara!" Yeah, right, she thought.

Tara pulled you inside and, much to the muttering complaints of her sister, shut the door behind you. She led you to her bed, where you sat on the edge of it and pulled something from your pocket.

"It's just something small," you started, glancing away shyly, "because your real gift is coming tomorrow, but I just...I wanted to give it to you today." She smiled at your nerves, thinking, She's just too cute. Too fucking cute.

She sat beside you. "Okay," she said. "But, just so you know, I only got you one gift."

You giggled and held the gift out. It was a small envelope, tiny enough to have fit in the pocket of your sweatpants, with your scrawl on the front. Tara furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at it and then took it from your hand. With slow and steady fingers, she opened the envelope, shivers running up her back as she realized what it was.

"It's your museum ticket," you said, watching her carefully, "from the day we met. Or, well, it's a copy of your ticket, since, you know, you have--or, had--the original." You shrugged and bit your lip. "I thought it would be a cute memento, but if it's dumb, you can just--"

She leaned in and shut you up with a soft kiss, trying to put all of the love she felt for you into it. When she pulled away, you were a blushing mess, and your words had died on your tongue.

"How did you get this?" she asked, looking back at the ticket.

You scratched at the back of your neck. "After I realized this was something"--you gestured between the two of you--"I scoured through the computer one day after work looking for your last name. There aren't very many Carpenters, so it wasn't too difficult."

That does it. Official. She's the very best thing that's ever happened to me.

"I love you, you know that?" Tara murmured softly.

You grinned. "Yeah, I do." You kissed her. "And I love you, too."

She grinned at you. "Since my door's shut, let me give you part of your Christmas gift," she said, and you blushed at the implication. She kissed you again and pushed you onto your back, easily hovering over you. "Merry Christmas, baby."

* * *

The sun shining in Tara's eyes woke her up. She turned over groggily, pressing her head into your neck, and you grumbled a little, shifting as you were woken up by her movements. Before even saying a word, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Morning, pretty," you said, your voice low and scratchy and filled with sleep. Tara melted at the sound, just like she did every time the two of you had a sleepover.

"Merry Christmas, baby," she offered, and your eyes shot open.

"Holy fuck." You sat up quickly, leaving Tara scrambling and confused as you reached for your phone. "Fuck, Tara!" You slipped out of her bed and immediately started getting dressed, stumbling around her room.

She sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist. "What?"

"We're gonna be late!" You pulled your shirt over your head. "Shit, the boys are gonna be so mad that they have to wait to open their presents."

Tara fell onto her back, groaning. This is gonna be a long day, she thought.

* * *

You bursted through the front door of your house, gifts nearly falling from your arms, and were immediately greeted by your brothers.

"Merry Christmas!" you shouted, and the boys swerved around you and headed straight for Tara.

"Tara! Tara!" Eddie cheered. "What'd you get me?"

"Please tell me you didn't get him any cologne. He's been spraying that stuff like mad recently," Nate said, elbowing his brother.

How did I forget how...energetic...they are? Tara wondered. "I'm not telling you," she said to Eddie, and then turned to Nate and said, "But no, it's not cologne."

Eddie frowned. "Darn."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Nate cheered. "Come. Mom and Dad are waiting by the tree. We've been up for hours waiting for you two."

"Hours and hours and hours," Eddie added, grabbing Tara's wrist and tugging her toward the family room.

Hours and hours and hours, she mocked in her head, and then she felt a little bad for mocking a child.

"Why've you guys been up for so long?" you asked as you followed close behind, the gifts blocking your sight slightly. Tara had offered to take some from you, but you had refused.

"Lia woke up early," Nate started.

"So we all woke up early," Eddie finished.

"Plus, grandpa was making pancakes," Nate said.

"And you know how his pancakes are," Eddie added.

When the four of you finally reached the living room, your parents stood.

"The prodigal daughter returns!" your father exclaimed, just as he had when he saw you at Lia's birthday party.

You set the presents down and rushed forward, pulling both of them into a hug. "Hi, guys!" You pulled back and they stepped up, taking Tara into their arms one by one. Even your grandmother offered Tara a hug. "So, presents?"

"Yes!" Nate shouted.

"Finally!" Eddie cheered.

Needless to say, the process of opening presents was chaotic—so much so that, just for a split second, Tara regretted saying yes to coming. You and the adults were calm, carefully unwrapping your presents and ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each one. The boys, on the other hand, left a trail of little pieces of wrapping paper and gift bags and bows, and Lia ended up spitting up everywhere at one point.

This is it, Tara thought at one point as she watched your family. This is every Christmas for the rest of my life. And when the boys opened their presents from her--an edition of an Emily Dickinson book for Nate and a game of COD for Eddie--and basically tackled her as their thank-you's, she thought, Maybe it's not so bad. Yeah, she decided as they cheered and yelled and started bursting out into random Christmas songs, this isn't so bad.

Finally, after everything had finally finished, and there were just two more presents left to give, the rest of the family excused themselves to make lunch in the kitchen. It was you and Tara sitting by the tree alone, neither of you having exchanged your own gifts yet.

"Do you want to go first?" you asked, shifting where you sat, your eyes flickering around.

She's nervous, Tara realized quickly. Awe, she's nervous!

To try to quell your worries, she nodded. "Sure." She grabbed her gift for you, which was neatly wrapped with a little bow on top. Unfortunately for her, she had Chad to thank for the wrapping, but she'd never admit it as you complimented her on how crisp the paper was.

With careful hands, you unwrapped your present, revealing a small ring box. You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened it, and Tara gulped as she watched your eyes widen and your jaw drop.

"Oh my god," you muttered. "Oh. My. God." You pulled the ring from its box. "It's a signet ring! It's Shakspeare's signet ring! I've been looking for one of these for forever!" You slipped it onto your pinky, and Tara sighed with relief when it fit. You brought your hand closer to your face, inspecting the ring. "It even has the heart loop!"

"So, you like it?" Tara asked.

You looked up, a huge grin pulling at your lips and your eyes sparkling with pure joy. "I don't even have the words to describe how much I love it, Tar. Thank you."

She smiled. "Merry Christmas."

You glanced back down at the ring. "Where did you find this?" you asked.

Oh, shit. Should I be honest? God, I should. Damn it. "Uh, I drove up here a few days ago and your brothers and I went shopping. Nate saw it in that antique shop downtown."

You chuckled. "You asked my brothers to help you?" Your voice was light, teasing, and Tara blushed up to her ears.

"...Yes."

You cooed, reaching out to run your thumb along her cheek. 'That's adorable, baby."

"Shut up," she mumbled. "Your turn."

"Okay. Right. My turn." You picked up the little box left beneath the tree and handed it to Tara, breathing out shakily as you did. "I hope you like it."

She was a lot less gentle than you were, eager to know what you had gifted her. She tore through the wrapping paper and tilted her head as a tiny cardboard box revealed itself. When she opened it, she found a gold necklace inside, an emerald pendant dangling from its chain.

"This is beautiful," she said, looking up at you. "Like, seriously beautiful. I don't even know what to say." She lifted it from the box carefully, letting the pendant dangle in the air.

"It was my great grandmother's," you rushed out, and Tara's eyes shot toward you. "It's passed down to each first born in the family on my mom's side, and we're meant to give it to...to the person we want to spend forever with."

Forever. Tara grinned. I like the sound of that.

"I know it's still early in our relationship," you continued, glancing away, "but I'm confident in this." You looked at her, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm confident in you."

She shot forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and engulfing you in the tightest hug she could manage. "I'm confident in this, too," she admitted. She pulled back, holding the necklace out to you. "Help me put it on?"

With ease you clasped it around her neck, and when she turned back around, she swore your eyes were sparkling.

"It looks perfect," you said breathlessly. "It's perfect."

You're perfect, she thought. This is perfect. Everything's perfect.

"Hey," she said, calling your attention. "I love you."

You smiled. "I love you, too, Tara. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N."

everyone but her pt.34

Summary: Two years, and you're only just starting to force yourself to acknowledge a few hard truths. Wednesday doesn't know how to help you, but she's going to do her best in her new Wednesday fashion.

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: swearing, mentions of past abuse, mentions of death, grief Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) A/N: I am not one who celebrates Dίa de los Muertos, and I've tried to do my due diligence for researching it and displaying it properly (in Addams fashion) but please let me know if I get something about it wrong! I want to show it the utmost respect, so please point me in the right direction if needed.

You loved the Addamses, truly you did. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for every single one of them. They wouldn’t even have to ask, you would do it in a heartbeat. Extended family was slowly starting to become included as well, and maybe you felt a bit like their self-appointed lapdog, but you didn’t really care. If they said jump, you would ask how high.

But sometimes you wished they would leave you out of a few things.

For instance, this? This whole weekend thing they had planned? You very well would have preferred to stay at the apartment. But no, they just had to invite you over and they just had to invite Abuelita and Tio and you just had to do your best not to be upset. Not that it was their fault, of course, you just didn’t celebrate things the same way.

For example? This dίa de los muertos.

It had been so long, you had truthfully forgotten just how wild the Addamses could get when they were all together. Uncle Fester was having way too much fun with Tio too. You hadn’t understood how much of a disaster that duo could be until you saw the both of them exiting the kitchen with armfulls of unknown substances.

“What, uh,” you scratched the back of your neck, “whatcha got there, Tio?”

He looked down at his arms, then at Uncle Fester’s, then back at you. “It’s a surprise.”

“I’m sure it is,” you mumbled when they continued walking out of the kitchen. Sometimes ignorance was the better option.

Ignorance quickly turned to annoyance when something exploded in the backyard. You didn’t have to look to know who the culprits were, not when Tio and Uncle Fester limped back into the house covered in black soot. They did their best not to meet your eyes while Mr. Addams congratulated them on… whatever they had done.

But that was the easy part! Watching Tio and Uncle Fester nearly get themselves killed time and time again was almost even comical, if you hadn’t been so stressed about the whole situation. No, it wasn’t even close to the difficult part. Even trying to help Abuelita cook for everyone was easier than everything else. Sure, she teased you the whole time, but at least she was sweet.

The hard part was trying to act all happy and celebrate when all you wanted to do was settle into a rafter for the weekend until it was time to go back home. You didn’t want to celebrate something that you couldn’t even properly talk about yet. Certainly you weren’t going to stop anyone or bring down the mood, but you weren’t keen on this whole celebration.

“Darling,” Mrs. Addams said, pulling your attention away from the book you had snagged. You looked down from your perch. “Your Abuelita would like your help in the kitchen.”

More cooking. Perfect.

“Yes ma’am,” you said anyway. There was a smile on her face when you dropped down to the floor; it took everything in you not to rub your knee that was not too happy about the landing.

“Are you learning much?” She asked. You frowned at her before looking down at the book. Your mouth quickly made a little “o”.

“I think so,” you said with a shrug and you both started walking slowly toward the kitchen. “It would help if your daughter would teach me herself.”

“She sees value in learning things on your own,” Mrs. Addams said. “It’s something about her you’re rather fond of, is it not?”

“Not right now it’s not,” you grumbled.

Mrs. Addams chuckled lightly beside you but otherwise kept silent. That was alright, you weren’t entirely in the mood to continue talking anyway. Especially not when you passed a certain picture frame that Tio had put up on the table earlier. It was easy enough to avert your eyes even as everyone continued laughing and having their fun.

You’ll ruin their celebration.

Abuelita was already working on… actually, you didn’t know what it was. Oh, never mind, it was just tamales. Now that you knew how to make, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too big of a chore. After all, you were nothing if not a wonderful assistant. Abuelita had even told you that herself.

Although your excitement at the chore quickly dissipated when she instantly put you to work on making more tamales than you thought you had ever made in your life. You loved her, you did, but she was a slave driver. She didn’t even tell you hi or that she loved you.

It was a hard knock life.

“Miercoles is laughing at you,” Tio said when he sat down at the table to watch. He always watched, never helped.

“No she’s not,” you said. But just to be safe, you looked up.

He was right.

“Told you,” he said as Wednesday finished making her way into the kitchen, a barely hidden smile on her face.

“Stop it,” you mumbled when she positioned herself beside you to begin helping.

“Tio was just telling me a few childhood stories,” Wednesday said with a shrug.

“His?” You asked. “Or mine?”

“Yours,” she said, “and Nicky’s.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose and turned to look at her. She was avoiding looking at you, instead using immense focus on the task at hand. Although you quickly turned your attention away because it wasn’t her fault. She was inquisitive by nature, you knew that. No, it was 100% Tio’s fault though, and he knew better. He knew you weren’t ready to talk about it yet.

Tio shrugged his shoulders and gave you what he probably thought was a comforting smile. It wasn’t. Not even close. How dare he? He was very well aware of your feelings about the whole situation, not even including your uncertainty in turning it into a celebration. But he was going to talk about you? Talk about Nicky? As if nothing had happened? It wasn’t fair.

“He can keep his mouth shut,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the hoard of tamales that could already feed an army even as Abuelita pushed more ingredients your way.

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen, and you didn’t care that you were at fault. They shouldn’t have brought him up, not today, not so close to the second anniversary of him being gone. It was inconsiderate at the least, malicious at best. You weren’t going to let them continue talking about him like he was still there, like he wasn’t haunting your every waking moment.

Someone cleared their throat and you looked up, ready to glare at whoever had dared to disturb the silence you had forced on everyone. But the moment your eyes met his, you froze. Every atom in your body refused to move, locked in place by his ghostly smile. It wasn’t until your lungs started to burn did you inhale slowly.

“You need to learn to flirt better,” he said with a raised brow. “She’s trying to help you.”

You couldn’t manage to get any words out. Not when you knew no one else could see him. He rarely came around, usually only when you were doing something really stupid. Part of you wondered if he had learned it from Twilight, because it was certainly some Eclipse bullshit. It wouldn’t surprise you in the least if that’s what his intentions were.

“You’re a disaster of a homosexual,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Making me do everything. Tell her about when we first got Steve.”

Your mouth closed with a clack of your teeth. Why was he such a dick? Even from the grave he couldn’t help himself. Besides, what did he mean you were a disaster? Quite frankly, Wednesday was way out of your league. If anything, he should be congratulating you on bagging a baddie like her.

But you had to admit, he was probably right. Like usual.

Such a dick.

“Did-” you shook your head and looked down at the table even though you could feel someone looking at you “-did he tell you about the time we got Steve?”

You kept working, refusing to look up. Air got stuck in your throat, and you wanted to cough just to clear the silence that was getting thicker than oatmeal. Nicky’s spectre laughed at you, and even though it was very clearly teasing, you wanted to hit him. This was no laughing matter, you were about to humiliate yourself in front of Wednesday because he thought it was a good idea to-

“-No he didn’t,” Wednesday finally said.

“Do I have to teach you how to do everything?” Nicky teased; you weren’t going to give him the benefit of looking at him. “Tell her the story!”

If he hadn’t already been dead, you would have fed him to Mrs. Addams’ carnivorous plants.

Your hands stilled their movements as your brain tried to comprehend what you had just thought. It had been the first time you had acknowledged that Nicky was dead. All moisture in your mouth disappeared, leaving the impression that you were chewing on cotton. 

Nicky was dead.

“Come on, baby,” Nicky said, his voice far too soft for the mental turmoil. It actually made you feel worse. “Tell her the story.”

“I’ll be back,” you said in a strangled voice.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you stepped back and practically ran out of the kitchen. The back of your brain reminded you that Abuelita needed your help, but you couldn’t convince yourself to care. Not when you could feel something chipping away at your chest with each step you took. Not when each breath started to get heavier, started to become so hard to pull that your lungs started with burn with the effort.

The wooden floor turned to dirt as you threw the front door open, practically floating down the steps until you could walk out toward the gate. Fresh air did nothing to ease your laboured breathing. Something brushed against your shoulder. Instinct kicked in and you jumped, brushing your shoulder frantically to get whatever it was off.

Nothing was there.

You’re broken, that voice inside your head taunted. It had been biding its time, staying silent until your moment of weakness. You're a burden on their celebration. A strangled sob caught in your throat. 

Hold it together, your own voice thought. You couldn't let them see you breaking down. This was cultural, they were having fun, you were not going to ruin it for anybody. But just the thought of everything had your head reeling. The world started to tilt and your hand darted out to catch yourself on a tree.

Something wet slid down your cheeks as you let yourself fall to the ground, your knees pulled tightly to your chest. He could've been here with you, the voice said. He could've been celebrating with you right now.

"Shut up," you whispered with a shaky exhale before squeezing your eyes shut.

“We can’t start without Nicky,” you said as you plopped onto the couch. Little Alex was quick to crawl into your lap.

“We’re not starting without him,” Momma said with a gentle smile even as she continued to plate the food. “We’re just getting things ready.”

“Where’d he go, anyhow?” Pop asked.

You simply shrugged. “Think he went to feed Steve.”

You had barely finished getting the words out of your mouth when the porch door opened and Nicky came in, straw stuck in his hair and yellow hair covering his clothes. With a snort, you quickly turned away when you noticed he was covered in drying patches of mud.

“What the hell happened to you?” Auntie C asked, not even trying to hide her laughter.

“That stupid goat kicked me!” He shouted, his finger pointing outside to where you assumed Steve was still standing.

“Were you mean to him?” You asked. “He’s sensitive.”

“He’s about to be dinner,” Nicky grumbled.

“Go clean up before dinner,” Momma ordered. “We’ve all been waiting long enough.”

“Yes, Momma,” he said softly. You stuck your tongue out at him as he passed you.

The warmth of another human spread through your arm when someone sat beside you, their arm pressed gently against yours. That all-too-familiar hammer inside your skull continued its rampage, but you managed to pry your eyes open nonetheless. To the side of you, Abuelita was sitting with her back against the tree and her withered hand fell to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“He loved you,” she said in heavily accented English.

Wait.

English?

You turned your head quickly to look at her, all thoughts of your grief momentarily forgotten.

“You’ve known English this whole time?” You asked. “And you never told me?”

Abuelita laughed. “It is more fun to tease you.”

She looked far too smug about the admittance. Had everyone known she could speak English? Because if they could, that was just rude that they had let you flounder instead of filling you in. Yes you tried harder to learn Spanish for her, but she couldn’t have given you the smallest bit of reprieve? The nerve of everybody.

“He’s watching you,” she said softly.

You followed her pointed finger to see Nicky’s spectre standing across the way, leaning his shoulder against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He had given you that look so many times it was almost comforting. Except for the fact you could see through him, and his smile had lost its joy. He was nothing more than a shell.

“You can see him too?” You asked when it hit you that Abuelita knew exactly where to point.

She was silent, and when you looked at her there was a mischievous smile on her lips. “Surely you did not think I was only your Abuelita.”

“Well-” you huffed, “-yeah, I did.”

"I've been around longer than you think, cariña," she said.

"Great," you mumbled, "so I've got a witch in the family too."

There was no possible way your mind could comprehend the knew bit of information. Not at that moment. Too much was going on, your head was still reeling, and that prickling behind your eyes was humiliating. Nicky was watching, Abuelita was watching, and that voice in your head still wouldn't shut up 

"He wants you to celebrate his life," Abuelita said. "Not his death."

A lump lodged itself in your throat as the tears started to fall.

"He should be here," you said.

Across the way, Nicky was still looking at you, smiling in a way that made you feel sick. It wasn't his typical happy-go-lucky smile. No, this was more of a final goodbye smile. Was he leaving you? No, he couldn't be leaving, he couldn't.

"He will always be with you.” Abuelita squeezed right above your knee; it almost tickled. “Because he loves you.”

“I need him,” you whispered with a soft exhale through your nose.

“And the living need you.”

What little air was in your lungs left you in a shaky huff. Leave it Abuelita to stab you in the heart with the softest of words. It was nothing you weren’t aware of; you couldn’t coexist with the dead the same way you did with the living. No matter how hard you tried, Nicky wasn’t going to be able to watch movies with you, or give you advice, or help you with your troubles. He would be there watching, but that would be the extent of it.

You hated her for being right.

“Wednesday is worried about you,” she said with another squeeze of your leg. You turned to look at her with glassy eyes that she was kind enough not to mention.

“How do I explain this?” You asked, gesturing your head to where Nicky was still watching you both.

“She’s more understanding than you think,” she said with a nod. “But you could always say her pitiful attempt at tamales was too devastating for you.”

“I’m never asking you for relationship advice,” you said with your own nod. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

Abuelita laughed, light and airy and happy, and you couldn’t help but follow.

“Help an old lady to her feet,” Abuelita said when you had both settled.

“Yes ma’am,” you said softly before standing up and easing Abuelita up.

She quickly looped her arm through yours until you were both walking back to the house. You turned around only once. Nicky was still standing there, now with his hands in his pockets. His smile had turned more genuine, and he gestured his head toward the house and waved.

That deep ache in your chest came back. You smiled back anyway and turned back around to the house when Abuelita squeezed your arm. With a deep exhale, you nodded to yourself and helped her in. One step at a time.

One step at a time.

—---

The weekend didn’t get any easier. In fact, it was almost more difficult than before Abuelita had talked with you. The celebrations continued, you helped, and you had to work harder to try and participate. No running out of the house, no crying, you just did your best to pull up your big kid pants and not ruin things for everyone else.

Wednesday had been kind enough not to bring up your daring escape. When you had both settled in for the night and had gotten into bed, she actually turned around and wrapped her arms around your neck. It wasn’t a comfortable position, you both woke up with aches that you hadn’t known existed, but you would admit to yourself that you had never slept better.

But then it was time for a whole new slew of problems.

“Would you like to put Nicky’s picture on the ofrenda?” Wednesday had the nerve to ask.

You had both been sitting on the loveseat in the library, enjoying the few moments of peace it provided. Your coffee had long since gone cold, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Both yours and Wednesday’s books had been far too enthralling, and Wednesday had seemed far too comfortable in your lap for you to disrupt her for a simple beverage.

Deep down, you wanted to tell her no. It would be too official, too condemning. If he was on the ofrenda, then how were you supposed to continue the delusion that he was alive and well? You would be admitting to everyone that he was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

“You’re useless,” Nicky scoffed from his corner of the library. “You’d better put me on there.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back your retort to his ghost. “And don’t forget the treats, I would love some of those little blueberry muffins you and Momma make.”

“No,” you said simply, finally answering Wednesday’s question. She fidgeted until she could look up at you from her place in your lap.

“Why not?” She asked not unkindly.

Don’t tell her, the voice in your head threatened, she’ll think you’re insane.

Abuelita’s words echoed in your head, quickly drowning out the threats and fear.

“Because,” you started slowly, “Nicky’s in the corner begging for food.”

The library was silent, only interrupted by the occasional noise emanating from the rest of the house. If your heart had been beating any faster, you swore it would have made a great escape from your chest. You knew you shouldn’t have said anything to Wednesday. Her family was weird, sure, but they weren’t “I can see my dead brother laughing at me” weird.

“Your Tio mentioned something about candies,” Wednesday said as if you hadn’t just mentioned your brother’s ghost over in the corner. “Would that suffice?”

“Absolutely,” Nicky answered quickly.

“Nah,” you said with a shake of your head, your eyes never leaving the corner of the library. “He wouldn’t want sweets.”

“I’m haunting you for the rest of your life,” Nicky threatened.

You just smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Wednesday’s forehead. The lightest blush dusted across her cheeks, but she otherwise stayed silent. It would always be funny to you how reserved she would get around other people. You weren’t mean, you wouldn’t dare break her boundaries, but even the little things had her flustered.

Even though you had tried to pretend otherwise, you had quickly dragged Wednesday downstairs to help you make the blueberry muffins Nicky had requested. Maybe you added a little salt, and maybe you didn’t use as many blueberries as he would have liked, but no one else would know. Well, no one except for Abuelita, who laughed when she noticed what you were doing.

It wasn’t too difficult to place the muffins on the ofrenda; they were just muffins. The hard part was when Tio brought you the picture frame. You tried to push him to do it, to have him place it down, but he insisted.

“He would want you to do it, pollito,” Tio had said softly before squeezing your shoulder gently. Your wings twitched.

It was unceremonious at best; you could feel everyone watching you, waiting to see if you could hold on to your sanity for the few seconds it would take to place it down. And you did. You set it on the ofrenda and made sure it was facing just the perfect direction. The light from the overhead window shone just right to illuminate his smile.

That alone was what pushed you to leave the room, practically running back up to Wednesday’s room to recover.

“Do you require a break from everything?” Wednesday asked as she slipped into her room, quickly closing the door behind her.

You shifted on the bed until you could face her. "It's just…” you sighed, “it’s just a lot.”

Wednesday nodded thoughtfully a few times before her feet led her to the bed. Second nature took over and you moved aside just enough for her to sit on the edge of the bed, her back ramrod straight. It looked painful, to be sitting so still and perfectly. How her back didn’t constantly hurt and ache, you had no idea. But when she reached over to take your hand, pulling it into her lap, you suddenly didn’t care anymore.

“You could always take your worry out on Pugsley,” she said, her soft fingers playing with yours. “He’s due for the electric chair.”

“No,” you sighed as you turned onto your side to watch her better. She looked stunning.

“Or we could use him for target practice,” she continued as she turned her head to look at you. With those eyes? You would burn the whole world for her. “You always seem more relaxed when you’re shooting things on your games.”

Well wait, maybe she had a good idea.

“Can I just-” you exhaled slowly through your nose, “-can I just have a hug?”

You knew it was a longshot. Even though Wednesday had eased into physical affection a lot lately, you knew she still wasn’t the biggest fan of it. She wasn’t her parents, as she was so keen to tell you. But that’s exactly what made it all the more exciting when she nodded once and laid down on the bed, quickly wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you into a hug.

“You smell like bread,” you whispered into her hair.

“God you’re gay,” Nicky said, suddenly appearing in the corner of the room. Always the corner. “Can you please just say something normal for once?”

“Is he back?” Wednesday asked, her lips brushing against your collar bone and sending a slight shiver down your spine. “You stiffened.”

“Yes,” you said. “He’s being a dick.”

She hummed before pulling back to look at you. “Then let’s scare him away.”

“What-”

She cut you off with a kiss. Nothing deep, nothing sensual, but still full of the emotions she so rarely allowed herself to openly express. Her fingers scratched lightly against the back of your neck and all the anxiety dissipated from your body. It was amazing how she could manage to do such a thing to you with only a simple kiss.

“I’m gonna puke,” Nicky groaned, “enjoy your girlfriend, you homo.”

You smiled when Nicky vanished.

“Is he gone?” Wednesday asked, her lips still close enough to yours that you could feel more than hear her.

“Not yet,” you lied effortlessly. “I think we should keep going.”

She saw through you, you knew she did. It was in the small smile she gave you and the roll of her eyes. And yet, she pulled you back into another kiss. Except this one she deepened, her grip on you tightening until you couldn’t be any closer. It warmed you from the inside, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Grief could wait. You were with your girl.

--------------------------

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everyone but her pt.35

Summary: Holidays roll around, and you and Wednesday are spending them with your family. It's full of chaos, bickering with Ash, and the usual feelings about a certain family member missing. At least something about the cold months makes Wednesday's heart a little warmer.

Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: swearing, grief, mentions of murder, police Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Where are you two going for Christmas?” Ash asked as she forced herself between you and Wednesday on the couch.

“Get out of my apartment,” you said without turning your eyes away from the television.

“It’s technically Wednesday’s apartment,” she said quickly. “You’re just the local freeloader.”

Wednesday genuinely enjoyed having Ash around. No one else could create such a look of pure malice on you. It was a stunning look. Wednesday always felt her chest tighten at such beauty when you were only moments away from strangling Ash for whatever comment she had made. Oh, how she would kill for you.

“I believe we will be going to Y/N’s home,” Wednesday answered when it was clear you wouldn’t.

“Perfect, then I’m riding home with you,” Ash said with a tone of finality that seemed impressively identical to yours.

The front door creaked open, and you all turned to see Bianca walking through the doorway. She froze with her hand on the doorknob, but quickly regained her composure to finish walking in. Wednesday frowned when she just let the door inch shut instead of just closing it on her own. But judging by the smile on Bianca’s face, it had been done on purpose.

“If you say you’re coming too, I’m strangling you,” you said, still not looking in the direction of anyone in particular.

“I was invited,” Bianca answered with a shrug before promptly sitting on the arm of the couch. It seemed she had lost all sense of decorum.

“Not by me,” you grumbled.

“Oh please, it’s not even a big deal,” Ash said. “You ride the bus.” She jabbed her finger into your chest. “The public bus.”

“For your information, Ashley,” you finally turned to look at her. “I fly and Wednesday rides the bus.”

“You let your poor, defenseless girlfriend ride the bus alone?” She asked with the slightest tilt of her head.

“Defenseless?” Wednesday asked.

“I refrain from any motor vehicle on four wheels now, thank you very much,” you said as if Wednesday hadn’t even spoken.

She was still beyond offended at the insinuation that she was defenseless.

“Do you two do anything other than bicker?” Bianca asked.

“No,” you and Ash both said simultaneously before ceaselessly continuing your bickering. Which, Wednesday would add, had nothing to do with the trip anymore.

“They do this all the time?” Bianca asked, locking eyes with Wednesday and raising a single brow. Wednesday just nodded once. “And you tolerate it?” Wednesday nodded again. “You’re much better than me, Addams.”

Both you and Ash continued your bickering as if there was nothing else going on in the world. As if Wednesday and Bianca weren’t still sitting on the couch, watching the show that you had put on that they very clearly had no interest in. If Wednesday was right - which she always was - it was your favourite dinosaur show at the moment.

It clearly emphasised how distracted you got when Ash came to poke the sleeping bear that was your fragile temper.

Bianca sighed, and Wednesday would have laughed at the expression on her face. If she did that sort of thing, of course. She would consider Bianca her friend nowadays, it was true. But that didn’t mean she didn’t still have those “nemesis” emotions still within her when it came to the Siren.

“So are we going together or not?” Bianca asked, and both you and Ash stopped mid-sentence.

“Obviously?” You said with the most disgusted look on your face. “Weren’t you listening?”

“You and Addams are perfect for each other,” Bianca said quietly. She reached out to grab Ash’s hand and pulled her up. “We have to study for tomorrow.”

“See you later!” Ash said quickly, practically running after Bianca.

“See ya,” you mumbled with a half-hearted wave before instantly turning back to the television as if you had not just griped and complained for the past 10 minutes.

Wednesday knew better than to try and question you about the entire thing with Ash. Not that the curiosity didn’t tug at the corners of her brain, but you would never explain. Something that in the past would have driven Wednesday to near insanity. Now, however, she simply found it typical. On a good day, she would even go so far as to say it was admirable how tight-lipped you could be.

She said nothing before she moved until she was sitting directly beside you, her thigh touching yours, as she laid her head against your shoulder. Your instinctual flinch was one of the shortest in a while. An improvement of the highest quality, Wednesday believed. It brought a certain, not unwelcome warmth to her chest.

“I’ll ride the bus on Saturday,” you said. Out of the corner of her eye, Wednesday noted you hadn’t even turned your attention away from the television.

You had such funny ways of saying “I love you.”

—---

For all intents and purposes, you behaved spectacularly on the bus ride home. Of course you had practically forced Ash and Bianca to sit in the row ahead, and you had grabbed Wednesday’s hand without even hinting at asking for permission, but you behaved. And as far as Wednesday was concerned, so did the other couple. She could forgive you for the utter indiscretion of the hand holding.

“Do they always do that?” You asked, gesturing your head forward.

In front of you, Ash was resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder. Nothing too dissimilar from when Wednesday would lean against you.

“Yes,” she said simply before continuing reading the book you had gotten her just the day before.

It was a rather fascinating book, one that she never would have picked up on her own accord. Something about a detective following some serial killer with certain tones of depravity that she could appreciate. Her pride would never allow her to admit it was spectacularly written and utterly captivating, but she didn’t have to. The speed at which she was soaring through the pages made it clear.

Perhaps you knew her interests better than she had perceived.

“Why did you know before me?” You asked. “What about you said “yeah, tell me the gossip before anyone else?” It’s not fair.”

There was no point in even attempting to read her book. Clearly something was on your mind, and if Wednesday ignored you, you would only continue getting more agitated until someone asked you to speak your mind. Though if you wanted a real answer or you were simply venting, she had no idea. That wasn’t something she had learned to differentiate quite yet.

“They believed you would react like this,” Wednesday said. A little white lie, harmless. “Seemed they were right.”

“Who do I give the shovel talk to?” You mumbled. “They’re both my friends.”

Wednesday had to bite her tongue to keep from asking what it mattered. They were both your friends, sure, but was this really the most important thing to you at the moment? A shovel talk? Shouldn’t you be more concerned with the police investigation that somehow always found its way back to you? Or that you still had nightmares from Mac’s death?

“Then talk with them both,” she said instead, “and be done with it.”

“That’s no fun,” you grumbled, but otherwise settled back into the seat.

Wednesday had gotten to page 233 before the bus pulled into the station in your little town. Thankfully no one had too much luggage and it was easy for the four of you to get off and wait patiently. There was very little talk, everyone seeming too tired due to the late arrival and the long trip. It was the preferred option, Wednesday would admit. She appreciated her friends, but she preferred them to be silent.

“You youngins need a lift?”

Your shoulders relaxed instinctively at the sound of Pop’s voice. It was a much welcome change, though it left an uncomfortable feeling in Wednesday’s chest. Rarely did you fully relax when she talked to you. Not that she cared nor minded, obviously. Whatever it took to ease your worries.

She did not care.

You introduced your Pop to Bianca before hastily pulling Wednesday into the bed of the truck. Like that first visit, you held your hand out for her to take, leaving yourself as an assistant to climbing up. You stayed steady even as she used you to pull herself up. Out of a desire to hide the embarrassing heat in her cheeks, she refused to look at the painfully gentle smile you gave her.

Pop dropped Bianca and Ash off at Ash’s family home. Wednesday did not fail to notice the easy-going look on your face when they had turned their backs to you. Why were you so insistent on not showing them that you cared? Or perhaps it was strictly Ash that you refused to show. Wednesday knew she did the same thing, especially when it came to her friends, but it didn’t seem characteristic for you.

“Welcome back, baby bird,” Pop said when he reached over to pat your shoulder. You gave him a quick smile before continuing to pull the bags out of the truck.

“Everyone asleep already?” You asked.

“Out like a light,” he said, making an unusual movement with his jaw while he talked. It was only then that Wednesday noticed the toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“We in the living room?” You continued even as you all started walking up to the house.

Wednesday happily invited the warm feeling in her stomach when you switched the bags to one arm and held her hand with the other. If she would allow herself to be so bold, holding your hand was probably one of her favourite things, especially out in public. It was subtle, but there was something strangely intimate about the act.

The subtle intimacy was something her parents could stand to learn.

“Basement,” Pop said. “Your Abuelita made up the pull-out couch.”

“Our own little apartment,” you said with a smile far more appropriate for the teasing tone.

“Just don’t tell your Grandpa,” Pop grumbled. “He’ll behave, but you know he don’t like it.”

“I’ll behave,” you said.

For some reason, neither Wednesday nor Pop believed you.

It only took a few more minutes to get inside, say goodnight to Pop, and go downstairs. Wednesday hadn’t seen the basement of the house yet, but it felt homey. You had mentioned on occasion how you and Nicky would have sleepovers with all the others down there. Watching movies, playing games, karaoke nights. With how much space was down there, it was no surprise it had essentially become the “kid hangout.”

“Bathroom is through there-” you gestured in the proper direction with your head, “-and I’ll finish getting everything ready.”

Wednesday nodded once. Getting ready was like a well-oiled machine. You handed her the overnight bag without looking up, and she took it. There was the slightest tremble in your hand when her fingers grazed yours, but you otherwise remained focused. Without even an ounce of hesitation, she leaned over to press her lips against your cheek, sighing softly to herself at the warmth, and quickly left you where you were standing.

She sneered after she shut the bathroom door. A kiss on the cheek; yet another subtle intimacy that she swore her parents would never understand. They were so convinced that every bit of romance or intimacy had to be over the top. But something as simple as what she had just done? That was more than enough to send a warmth from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Warmth. Now that was something Wednesday hadn’t ever anticipated desiring. Yet, with each passing day, she found herself practically craving it. Not just from anybody, though, of course not. Simply from you. Whether it was your presence, or the warmth of your hand in hers, or the weight of your wings draped across her. Just… you.

Haphazardly, she wiped the speck of toothpaste from the corner of her mouth and locked eyes with herself in the mirror. What were you doing to her? The scowl that she had carefully crafted over years of practice had lost its edge. Now she almost looked… approachable. It was like you had taken her sharpness and carefully sanded it down to something soft, something that could be held without fear of injury.

It was decided. She was going to smother you with a pillow.

You were in the process of attempting to put some sleep pants on when Wednesday came out of the bathroom. She waited, watching silently as you hopped around, nearly tripping over the bags that you had unceremoniously dropped on the floor. The smallest of grunts left your mouth when you hit your foot on the couch after forcefully pushing it through the bottom of your pants. It was ridiculous.

She liked you being ridiculous.

Her body froze.

Scratch her earlier plan; she was going to strangle you in your sleep with her bare hands.

But the moment she saw your crooked smile, and felt your arms wrap around her when you both lay down in bed? That was all it took for her nefarious plans to disappear. Instead, they were replaced by that warm feeling in her chest and the tickle of your breath against the shell of her ear.

Maybe she wouldn’t strangle you just yet.

—---

It was breakfast two days later when there was a knock on the door.

All the kids were out in the back, while everyone else was either working or in town. That simply left you and Wednesday in the kitchen, another pot of coffee already in the process of being brewed. She looked at you when the knock came again. You just shrugged.

“Might be Santa,” you said with a poorly concealed smile before getting up and walking to the front.

Wednesday stayed in her spot on the kitchen bench, her second book resting open on the table as she took another sip of her coffee. She was unsure what brand your family used, but she enjoyed it. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but that was precisely what she preferred. It was dark and bitter and helped roughen up some of those edges of hers that you had been softening.

She didn’t bother listening in to the hushed voices at the door. You were more than capable of answering a guest. Besides, she was fascinated with the book that Daniel had loaned her. It was simple, yet entertaining. Some book about a fictional doctor studying Outcasts. And she was even more impressed with the drawings. They almost got the wing anatomy right.

At the sound of numerous pairs of footsteps on the wooden floor, Wednesday looked up from the words on the page. You gave her a quick kiss on the head when you walked past her and started rifling through your mug cabinet. There, standing awkwardly in the doorway, were Ash and Bianca. Ash’s eyes looked bloodshot, and Bianca had a slight frown.

They didn’t move until you placed the mugs full of coffee on the table. Almost in sync, they sat down across from Wednesday as you replaced the cream and sugar on the table. No one really said a word when you sat back down beside Wednesday, but the tension was still in the air. It was uncomfortable.

“Ash’s dad came home,” you said softly when Ash and Bianca headed down to the basement.

Wednesday took the newly-washed mug from your hands and started drying it. “That’s a bad thing.”

“He’s homophobic,” you shrugged. Wednesday nodded. “And hates Outcasts.”

The four of you helped rearrange the basement to fit two beds. It wasn’t difficult, but you continuously bickered with Ash over the littlest of things. Which was precisely why Bianca and Wednesday put you two to work together while they worked silently and efficiently.

They made a silent vow to never tell anyone about the other’s softness for their partner.

By the time everyone came back home, no one questioned why there were two more plates on the dinner table. Auntie C simply took to Bianca like a fish to water, the both of them talking nonstop about anything and everything. Wednesday had to try her hardest not to let her smile slip when you finally noticed that they were talking about you.

“Well I have to do someone’s hair,” Auntie C said when you called her out on her poorly-devised plan. “And the kids aren’t old enough to have more than a few minutes of fun.”

“Why don’t you help me with mine?” You asked. “I always need help.”

“Your hair isn’t as much fun,” she said with a shrug before smirking at Bianca.

“She doesn’t even have hair!” You groaned.

“Which makes for a perfect blank slate,” Auntie C said.

“Don’t be jealous,” Bianca said. “Maybe one day she’ll help you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled before grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her outside.

The days flew by in much the same way. The four of you would get up and go upstairs for coffee. If you were early enough, you could say hi to the adults before they left for work. Depending on the day, you all either helped watch the kids, or helped with chores. More often than not, you were in charge of mucking out stalls since you were housing three horses for the winter break.

“Ash never has to muck out the stalls,” you grumbled.

Wednesday stayed silent on her perch, the newly-repaired wooden railing just high enough for her to be above eye level with you.

The horse you had secured outside the stall snorted in response.

“I know,” you said with a nod of your head, “she never even comes to see you.”

The horse tapped his foot on the ground twice.

“Yes, Hailey will bring you an apple later,” you said.

Wednesday watched in silent amusement as you continued to talk to the horse while you cleaned. Sometimes you would stand up straight and wipe your brow, giving an unimpressed look at the horse, before continuing cleaning. This pattern continued with the other two horses, as well as Steve’s stall.

She made sure to go inside before you let him out. He had given her one too many mischievous looks, and she didn’t think she could handle having to repair another pair of pants.

“Wanna help me wrap presents?” Emily asked at the exact moment that the door closed behind Wednesday.

How could she say no when Emily, in all her young wisdom, pouted and whispered a “please?” that was eerily similar to yours. It was frustrating, to say the least. That a simple word, a simple inflection could remind her so much of you that she was willing to assist a child with… gift wrapping. It was disgusting and undignified.

It only took them an hour to finish all the presents.

When you came back into the house, after Wednesday had been roped into helping all the children wrap presents, you were on the phone. She was concerned at first; the last time she had truly seen you on the phone alone was when Nicky had died. Her heart started to race and she had already started coming up with a plan to keep you stable, to keep you from running away from her again.

She hated when you ran away from her.

But the typical tension in your shoulders was absent, and you still walked in and sat beside her as if nothing was wrong. In fact, you even reached over and locked your fingers with hers without hesitation. She leaned a little further into you, ignoring the teasing look Bianca sent her way, and let her heart rate return to normal.

If she was eavesdropping on your call, that was no one’s business but hers.

When you hung up the call, instinctual curiosity nearly caused Wednesday to ask who you had been talking to. But she quickly bit her tongue, knowing it would be considered rude. Not that she necessarily cared, but there were other people in the room and she was not going to give Bianca the satisfaction of doing something socially inappropriate.

“Casey called,” you said anyway, seemingly answering the unasked question. “Just wanted to talk, I guess.”

Wednesday never considered her a jealous person. Distrustful, yes, but not jealous. But just the thought of you talking to your brother’s old partner had her on edge. Had you talked to Casey on the phone before that moment? She was aware that you had bumped into him and Devan not too long ago, but did you talk? Were you close?

Why would he want to talk to you so badly as to call you on your winter break?

“You’re thinking too loud,” you said softly enough for only her to hear. “I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

From you? That answer would suffice.

—---

When Wednesday walked into the kitchen, you were already there. She had gotten more than comfortable walking your house and yard on her own. Sometimes she preferred it, using it as her time to get some peace and quiet that she so desired. There was something endearing about your family’s dynamics, but she needed some silence every now and then.

Her body stopped in its tracks when she saw your lips moving. You were still looking down at the lunch you were making for everyone, but you continued your silent talking. If she listened carefully, she could hear the wispy words falling from your lips.

It wasn’t the first time Wednesday had walked in on you seemingly talking to yourself. She had found you a few times in the past, usually when you were in the kitchen, having a full conversation with yourself. At least she assumed it was with yourself. Now that she was going over it in her head, she supposed you could also be talking with Nicky.

There had been an initial concern when you had told her you could still see him. The Addamses were no strangers to ghosts or spectres, but she knew it wasn’t entirely common amongst the majority of the population. That same concern had only grown at the anxiety that she could practically feel coming off your body as you told her. Like the good girlfriend she was attempting to be, she accepted the fact without question.

All it took was a small talk with your Abuelita to learn that it wasn’t entirely impossible and ease her concern.

As she watched, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose. Wednesday’s pulse quickened; she knew that look. Without second thought, she walked over to you - a little quicker than normal, she would admit - and wasted no time in placing her hands on your cheeks. It was a gesture she had experimented with and had come to the conclusion that, yes, it worked.

When your face almost instantly relaxed, she was proven right yet again.

“Is it Nicky?” She asked quietly. She wasn’t stupid, she knew it was a sensitive topic, but the only way to know for sure was to ask.

Your eyes darted to the side quickly before looking at her again.

“Yes.”

The sound of her heart echoed loudly in her ears. Through horrendous amounts of research, Wednesday knew how to tell when someone was lying. From the way they lick their lips to where their eyes go. It didn’t matter if it was a big or small lie, the signs were all the same.

And you? You had just lied to her.

“He’s giving me a headache,” you said with a shrug. Behind you, your wings ruffled lightly underneath your shirt.

Wednesday was smart enough not to question when you had started wearing your harness more during the day time. It had happened some time after getting back from the dia de los muertos celebration. You had never mentioned it, and she had thought it was better to just let you do what you felt you needed to. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell how uncomfortable you were with it.

And it didn’t stop your wings from giving away your lies.

“Can you get the paper plates, please?” You asked, not unkindly pulling away from her hands and facing the stove once again.

It hurt. Which left for an unusual feeling in Wednesday’s chest and a strange ball of tension in her throat. She grabbed the plates from the designated cabinet and tried to ignore the feeling, but it was impossible. Had you ever lied to her before? Nothing immediately came to mind, and it was concerning. Why would you decide now to lie to her? And what could have been worth it?

She didn’t know. But she was going to find out.

—---

It was two days before Christmas when you left to go visit Nicky.

“I won’t be long,” you said without looking up from the small picnic basket you were packing. “Just gonna bring him some of Momma’s pumpkin rolls.”

Wednesday wouldn’t dare tell you not to go. She wasn’t entirely sure if you were coping in a healthy way, but who was she to speak up? Her family certainly weren’t the baseline of normality when it came to coping and grieving. Death wasn’t some horrendous thing that most people saw it as, not to the Addamses. And even though you fit in perfectly, you weren’t an Addams.

Take me with you, she thought. Let me keep you out of trouble. It was an unusual thought, and it took her by surprise. Part of what she had initially adored about you was your penchant for getting into trouble. Yet with this? Every fibre of her being wanted desperately to keep you safe. It was an uncomfortable feeling and she wanted it to go away.

“Don’t be out too late,” was what Wednesday finally said. “They still have yet to find that killer in DC.”

“Killer?” You asked, freezing in place. Your eyes trailed off, not looking at anything in particular before they widened and your mouth made an adorable little “o.” Not that Wednesday thought it was adorable. “You mean the one that got Mr. Hart?”

Wednesday nodded.

“I hope I do see him.”

She gave you the most unamused look she could muster. “That’s not comforting.”

“I need to congratulate the man,” you said. A smile more suited to your true personality slowly grew. “Maybe I’ll offer him a pumpkin roll.”

“Please stay out of trouble,” she said with a sigh that she did her best to hide. “I can bail you out of jail again, but would prefer not to.”

“You didn’t like picturing me behind bars?” You asked. Wednesday did her best to keep down the heat that was rising on her cheeks. “I think you liked me in handcuffs.”

“You two are disgusting.”

You both jumped - it was the first time Wednesday was thankful you were wearing your harness - when Ash walked into the kitchen. She wasn’t looking at either of you directly, but Wednesday could see her smirk. It was similar to Hailey’s. And yours. Oh, you all really had practically grown up together.

“Then quit eavesdropping,” you said. All teasing in your tone was gone.

Wednesday missed it within an instant.

“If you’re not home in time for dinner, I’m letting Wednesday sleep in the bed with me and Bianca,” Ash continued as she grabbed one of the pumpkin rolls from the plate.

“I’m not a stray,” Wednesday mumbled.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” you said quickly. “Keep your hands off my girlfriend.”

“Gotta keep you motivated somehow,” Ash said with a smile before she backed out of the kitchen. “Tell Nicky I said hi!”

“You’ll be safe?” Wednesday said again, not even caring if Ash heard her or not. She was more focused on the fact that, at the mention of Ash saying hi to Nicky, you had sombered rapidly. “No killers?”

“You almost sound like you care, Wends,” you said, but that troubled frown morphed into the smallest of smiles. “What would Enid think?”

“Enid would think nothing of it because no one will tell her.” She did her best to make it a threat, but it fell on deaf ears. You both knew she wouldn’t do anything.

“I’ll be safe,” you finally said, “and I won’t congratulate killers.”

Thank you, she thought even though she couldn’t get herself to say it aloud. Instead, she stood up on her toes and kissed you on the cheek. A soft kiss, one planted firmly enough to know she was serious. To show she cared, even if she wouldn’t say it in so many words.

“Can I kiss you back?” You asked.

Wednesday only had to nod once before you cupped her cheeks and kissed her just as softly. Where she had used to find it a little ridiculous that you would ask every single time, now she truly loved it. To know that you respected her boundaries enough to ask, no matter the situation? It was something she hadn’t expected to receive from anyone, and yet you did it so effortlessly.

“I’ll be back tonight,” you whispered against her lips.

With one final press of your lips against hers, you pulled away, grabbed the picnic basket, and left.

“Your cheeks are red,” Ash said. She was leaning against the doorframe with a look that was very much her own. “In case you didn’t know.”

“You and Bianca truly deserve each other,” Wednesday said as she quickly pushed past Ash.

She was going to kill you for humiliating her like that.

It was far into the night when you finally came home. Now, Wednesday would cut you a bit of slack, you had called to let everyone know you had been late. “Held up,” were your exact words. She couldn’t be sure if anyone else had noticed, but she could practically feel the tension of your words through the phone. In her mind’s eye, you were clenching your teeth and your wings were doing the equivalent of shaking fists.

Everyone had already gotten in bed, including Wednesday, when you finally attempted to sneak into the basement. Not that you were very loud, you had actually gotten much better at sneaking around. But Wednesday knew what you sounded like when you were trying to be silent. Too many nights of you coming home late from work, or therapy, or even just one of your late walks had conditioned her to know your sounds.

It was in the slightest ruffle of feathers, because you never came home from a late night excursion with your harness on. Then there was the oh so subtle sound of your footsteps. You stepped on the balls of your feet to minimise the noise; something you also did when you believed someone was in a bad mood. Perhaps, she thought, it had something to do with that abuse Ash had mentioned all that time ago.

Which… actually wasn’t that long ago, now that Wednesday was thinking about it.

She made it a habit, if she was still awake, to look for your eyes glowing in the dark. It made it easier to keep track of where you were and how much longer it would be before you got into bed. Even though she would rather perish than admit it, she always counted down expectantly until you were beside her once again.

When the bed shifted underneath her, she startled. How had you managed to sneak up on her when she had heard every sound you had made? Surely she would have caught your eyes at some point, they were practically neon against the pitch black. But it was certainly your arm wrapped around her waist, and your small kisses behind her ear.

“Sorry I scared you,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

You hadn’t scared her. That’s what she wanted to say, at least. But you felt too warm, and you were holding her a little too close, and she had missed you. She turned around, being careful not to jostle you too much. All she really wanted was to place her head beneath your jaw in the safety of darkness where no one could peek into her secret joy.

“I love you,” you said softly before planting a quick kiss on her forehead.

She opened her eyes to look at you, the words ready and waiting on her lips, but she froze.

Your eyes weren’t glowing.

The night seemed to drag on without Wednesday getting an ounce of sleep. How could she when you were no longer you? You had sounded like you; had felt like you all throughout the night. But your eyes… how could that be explained? For as long as Wednesday had known you, she didn’t think your eyes had ever not glowed in the dark.

When morning came and you both woke up, it was as if nothing had happened. Your eyes were still slightly fluorescent in the barely present morning sun. There was the usual sleepiness in your eyes and your smile was small and you looked… like the you she knew and adored.

“You were late,” Wednesday tried to say on the rare instance that she had you alone. It was Christmas Eve and she knew the children were getting excitedly anxious.

“My parents were there,” you said. Wednesday froze, but you quickly shook your head. “It wasn’t as awful as expected.”

“Would you-,” she exhaled slowly, “-would you like to talk about it?”

“Are you mentally prepared for it?” You asked in return.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she was or not. It had been a while since you had decided to talk about anything serious. In theory, yes she was mentally prepared. You had asked before bringing it up. She had already been stewing over everything  the entire night anyway. How was an actual conversation any different?

“Yes,” she finally said.

“They were actually there for Mr. Hart,” you said, pulling Wednesday over onto the outside porch swing with you. Thankfully, most everyone was out skiing. “Which was no surprise, they never cared.”

Wednesday let her head fall onto your shoulder. She couldn’t look at you if she wanted to listen properly and understand her own reactions to your words. That did not, however, mean she couldn’t at least lean against you and comfort you in the way Enid had taught her.

Maybe she needed to learn from someone other than Enid.

“There were a few people around, so I guess they felt obligated to talk to me,” you said with a shrug that jostled her head. “It was clearly uncomfortable for everyone.”

“Was the topic unpleasant?” She asked. Excellent follow up question, she thought to herself, you’re doing great. Yes. Yes she was.

“Just asked about school and work,” you continued. Your hand fell to her thigh and your thumb rubbed lightly over the fabric of her pants. It was borderline uncomfortable; she loved it.

“How was your anger metre?”

“You haven’t asked that in a while,” you mumbled. “It was about a 6,” you answered anyway. “Would’ve been higher if they had even had the decency to save face.”

Wednesday wanted to ask you to specify. Not just what would have made your metre rise, but what you even meant in the first place. There was just too much she didn’t know about your parents, your past, how it all connected. Too many unknowns lead her to question how she was even supposed to comfort you. Hold a conversation with you about your feelings. Feelings were difficult enough without your past coming into play.

Why did you have to make an already difficult thing even worse?

She was amazed by your abilities.

“Your eyes were dull when you got into bed.”

The admittance had Wednesday’s body freeze up. Why would she so openly play her only card like that? She was a detective by trade, of course, but she was better than this. There was no doubt you would have told her anything she asked, but she wasn’t supposed to let you know she was suspicious of something!

You stayed still underneath her as you played over her statement. She knew you were because your mouth was quirked to the side, and it looked like you were chewing on your bottom lip. It was so very you that she felt something tugging at her chest. Tugging harder with each beat of her heart, doing its best to push her closer to you just to savour the you-ness of it all.

“Explains the migraine,” you finally said, so quietly that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear it. “Curious.”

You stayed silent, just pulling Wednesday closer until she was sitting in your lap and you held her so tightly it was almost painful. Beneath her ear, she could hear your racing heart. Beneath her fingertips, she felt the slightest tremor of the muscles under your skin. The slightest scratch of your nails on her back was both soothing and irritating.

And yet you didn’t say another word. And Wednesday was left with more questions than answers.

————————–

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Let The Light In |5|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter 5: Shit-faced

Summary: It's been weeks and Tara was still avoiding you, but that doesn't stop you from looking out for her

Warning(s): Swearing, smoking, mentions of underage drinking, intoxication & panic attack

Notes: I reaaally hope this suffices. I tried my best, I swear. I think this is the longest chap I've done for this series so far (5,162 words, usually it's right under 5k words) Shoutout to @iamnodens for giving me some inspiration. Sparked an idea for a plot-line I wanna pursue

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

Anika saw you check your phone for the millionth time that night. “Come on, this is supposed to be a movie night. Not ‘check your phone a million times’ night,” Anika spoke up. You faced your phone back down. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Anika looked over at you then back at the TV before speaking again. “Who has you so anxious?” She asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“No one,” you say in a dry tone before grabbing the popcorn bowl and shoving a handful in your mouth. Your roommate let out a doubtful hum before turning her attention back to the TV.

Your right leg began to bounce as your thoughts once again led you to an overthinking spiral. It didn’t take long for you to think of the worst. You didn’t want Tara to never talk to you again. As much as you hated to admit it; along the way you started to enjoy Tara’s company. 

There were times where she could brighten your mood when no one else could. Tara may not have known, but the weekend you were in Brooklyn you were having a panic attack when she messaged you.

Texting back and forth with Tara seemed to eventually calm you down. You would never forget that moment, and although the younger Carpenter had no idea how much she had helped you, you knew. 

“If you bounce your leg any harder you’ll put a hole through the floor,” Anika remarked, pulling you from your memories. “Sorry,” you muttered back.

“Don’t be…what’s got you like this huh?” You start to play with your fingers. You sighed, debating whether or not you wanted to open up to Anika. 

“It’s just that– girl from before still hasn’t talked to me and I guess you were right; it’s a hundred percent getting to me.” 

Anika raised her eyebrows at you before responding,“She really must be if you’re admitting you were wrong. Have you tried confronting her about it?” 

You let out a frustrated huff. “She always swerves away from me. I sent a text but I don’t wanna seem desperate.” You looked at Anika to see her giving you a deadpan look. “What?” You asked, feeling clueless.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before answering. “Okay, listen up. I know you have never been a bright communicator, but come on. Only sending one text? At this point you might as well just corner her if you refuse to send her no more than that,” she chuckled dryly.

You sat there, genuinely considering that as an option. Anika watched as you thought about it and started to shake her head at you. “Y/N…no. I didn’t mean to literally corner her.”

“Fine.”

—

You patted your hands dry in the restaurant’s restroom. You looked in the mirror—making sure you were put together before walking out—but then suddenly saw a familiar face in your reflection. It was only for a moment but in that single moment you felt your breathing grow ragged, heart racing and stood frozen. You tightly gripped the counter, closing your eyes and murmuring to yourself. 

“He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your hea—”

“Y/N?” You heard. You exhaled and turned to face the voice.

No, no, no, no…Why is she here?

“Tara.” You replied, you were on the brink of tears as you tried to control your breathing. She quickly noticed the state you were in and carefully walked up to you. You took one step back, moving away from her. She looked at you again before gently placing a hand on your bicep.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Tara asked you in a gentle voice.

“Fine.” You murmured before quickly walking out of the bathroom. You ignored the worried glances you received from Henry and Anika, walking outside and leaning against a pillar. 

You tried everything; you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you counted, and even tried the three three three rule. But nothing was working. You felt your right hand creep up your chest as it subconsciously gripped it. Your knees felt weak, as if they would buckle from under you. 

You fumbled in your pocket for a cigarette and lighter. You held the smoked cigarette to your lips, breathing it in and out. Your free hand’s fingers anxiously tapped on your thigh as you smoked. You felt like the world would collapse from beneath you, nothing to catch or save you. You started going down another spiral when suddenly you heard someone. 

“Hey…” You looked to your left to see Tara once again. 

“I swear I didn’t know you were gonna be here. Sam and I just decided to eat out since it’s not everyday she gets off from both jobs.” Tara said, moving to lean beside you.

“That’s nice,” you replied, putting out your cigarette and throwing it.

“Yeah…it is.” Tara smiled to herself as she said that. “Are you doing a little better now?” She asked you with a light nudge to your shoulder as she looked up at you.

“I guess.” Was all you answered with. Tara slightly nodded, before looking back ahead. 

After a couple minutes of silence, you finally spoke up. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?” You asked without looking at her, your voice quiet. You looked down at your shoes, both hands in your pockets.

“I haven’t been…” Tara trailed off. She knew she was. She was fully aware of it. But, she wasn’t ready to tell you why.

“Yeah…okay,” you sighed, lifting yourself up from the pillar.

“See you around, Carpenter.” You made your way back into the restaurant. Tara stayed outside a little longer before going back to her own table.

You both glanced at each other from across the room while the other wasn’t looking. 

—

You sat on the random couch while wearing a grumpy expression. Henry had, once again, dragged you to another party. The place was too crowded, sweat was everywhere, the burning smell of the alcohol was stronger than usual—to you at least—and Henry had gone off to God knows where. You just wanted out of this frat house.

The only thing keeping you sane was the company of Anika and Mindy. You didn’t talk to Mindy much in high school but she seemed cool. Anika and her were discussing couples costumes for halloween when suddenly you heard your name.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Your roommate asked as she sat in her girlfriend's lap on the love seat beside you.  

“What do I think about what?”

“You think we could rock a zombie bride and groom for a couples costume this year?” Mindy asked for Anika.

“Yeah, you’d guys be awesome for that,” you answered in a monotone voice. You didn’t look at them as you spoke, staring off at a random spot in the room. Suddenly your eyes caught something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” Anika asked. Mindy also furrowed her eyebrows at you, but then all their answers were answered when they followed your eye line.

There Chad was with his tongue down Tara’s throat.

There was no reason to have cared as much as you did. There was no reason the pain in your chest should be growing. There’s no reason for this to hit you as hard as it did. You and Tara weren’t dating, you didn’t like her—no, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were just caught off guard. Yeah, that’s it. You never thought about Chad and Tara together so you’re just in some form of shock.

What about the chest pain? The feeling of your heart being ripped out–

Heartburn. 

It was just heartburn, that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Suddenly you felt a hand touch your arm. You lightly flinch before looking to your left, seeing it was Anika. Why did they both look at you with such pity?

“Hey, how about we call it a night, yeah?” You nodded.

After Mindy and Anika kissed each other goodbye, you two started to make your way out before a thought told you to reach into your pocket. Empty.

“I think my phone slipped out of my pocket while I was sitting on the couch,” You told Anika and she waited in the car as you went inside to get it.

By the time you got back to the couch somebody was already sitting, and of course it had to be Tara. “Looking for this?” she smugly asked, pulling out your phone and showing it to you.

You let out a sigh of relief before trying to reach for your phone, but the minute you almost grab it, Tara pulls it back behind her back.

“Tara, not right now.” You really weren’t in the mood for this. 

You sighed as you saw multiple stains on her shirt. “Someone’s in a mood,” she remarked, still looking up at you with a smile you couldn’t quite read.

“I’m not—” you sighed again, “—you have stains all over your shirt by the way. You’re a complete mess right now,” you murmured the last part, sitting down next to her trying to reach for your phone behind her but she’s quick. She pulls away again without thinking before responding.

“You know you pronounce your R’s in a funny way? Like, you say stuff like shirts and shorts but when you say them they sound the exact same. And then it’s, like, which one is it?” Tara rambled on. 

You sat there, silently listening to every single word. You couldn’t help the slight smile that grazed your face. It was nice hearing her voice again after so long. 

“Then I remembered you’re from Brooklyn, and you know what that means?”

“No, tell me,” you said, wanting to hear her ramble for a little longer.

“Brooklyn accent. So, that’s why you do that cute thing with your R’s!” You suddenly felt heat rush to your cheeks. Cute? Tara had used you and cute in the same sentence. She is completely plastered. 

“Tara! Ethan and I are gonna play beer pong!” You both looked over to see Chad calling from the other side of the room. 

You looked back at Tara, “I should go. See you, princess.” You got up, but suddenly felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You looked down at her as you stood. She opened her mouth for a couple seconds before shutting it.

“You probably need this,” Tara pulled out your phone and placed it in your hand for you. The amount of contact she was giving you caused a flutter in your chest. 

“I’m probably gonna head home,” she slurred. You bit the inside of your cheek as you grew concerned about her going home on her own in the state she was in.

“Mindy said you drove with Chad?” 

“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t mind me driving myself home though. He said he’d—” she hiccupped, “—get a ride with Ethan.”

“Well I do mind. You’re too drunk to drive Tara.” She just stared up at you as you spoke. “You can stay over,” you lightly sighed as you offered your hand to her.

Tara bit her lip as she continued to stare up at you, but after a beat of silence she took your hand—not without tripping, causing her to fall into your arms.

“You okay?” You asked in a soft voice, and she simply nodded her head as she continued to look at you.

Tara had so much to tell you, but she stopped herself before she could.

You both walked out to your car—Tara clinging on to your arm as she walked like she had two left feet. You never thought Tara Carpenter could be any more clumsy than she already was, but here you were. 

You opened the car door, “Sorry that it took so long.” 

“I see you didn’t just bring back your phone,” Anika remarked, not hiding her knowing look. You strapped Tara in the backseat, making sure she was comfortable, before going to the driver’s seat.

“She’s too drunk to be her own ride, so I offered,” you responded. You gave Tara one last glance from the rear view mirror—which didn’t go unnoticed by Anika—to see that Tara was already passed out. You started to pull out and made your way to your apartment. There wasn’t much talking on the ride over. The only sound coming from the car was the music, but even that was put at a low volume. You tried your best to avoid the holes so Tara could sleep fine. You cursed your government for not using your taxes to fill holes with more cement. 

By the time you got to your apartment Tara was still sound asleep. You told Anika she could get a head start and that you would catch up with her. After she left you got out of our seat and walked around your car to open the door to Tara’s seat. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Tara…we’re here,” you whispered in a soft tone. Tara only shuffled slightly but never opened her eyes. You lightly squeezed her shoulder, “Come on. We’re here…”

You slightly shook your head.

“...You’re so lucky I live on the second floor.” You scooped her up and she subconsciously nuzzled her head in the nook of your neck. You carried her up the apartment stairs, and once you got to the door you knocked with your head—since your hands were obviously full at the moment.

That night, you didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.

—

Tara woke up with a pounding headache, causing her to groan as she slowly sat up. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

“Shit shit shit,” she looked around for her phone. She couldn’t believe how stupid she was. Sam was going to kill her for sure—if she was actually home? Yeah…she’s going to kill her for sure. 

It didn’t take long for her to realize where she was. “Fuck, not again,” she groaned into her hands. 

If Tara had a nickel for everytime she woke up in your bed she would have two nickels—which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice. Before she could retrace her steps there were two knocks on the door. 

“Come in,” She said and you opened the door slightly, peaking your head before fully coming inside. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I see you’ve, uh, woken up.” You awkwardly stood with your arms crossed.

“Yeah…”

Tara turned her head, closing her eyes and letting out an inaudible sigh before turning back to look at you. “Listen, I’m sorry this is, like, the second time. You shouldn’t have to take care of me while I’m shitfaced.”

You slightly pouted out your bottom lip, faintly shaking your head and waving her off. 

“No problem.”

After a moment you finally break the awkward silence, “Why do you do this?”

“What?”

“This? Go out to parties so often, and have drink after drink?” Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you, not understanding where you were going with this. 

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, feeling offended by the question. 

“I just mean, don’t you get tired of it?”

Tara let out a faint scoff, “I like my life, thank you very much.” She now sat up a little straighter as she looked at you from where you stood. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, Tara—you know that.” 

“No, I don’t actually,” Tara got up from your bed, making her way to the door. She reached for the handle but you blocked it.

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“No, you stop it. What’s your problem, Carpenter? You really think I wouldn’t notice you ignoring me?” 

Tara opened her mouth to speak but you quickly cut her off. “You even changed your seat in history. How is that nothing?” You hated how vulnerable you felt right now. The hurt was noticeable in your voice.

“I– I just need space…” Tara sighed, running her hands down her space.

“What—why? ...Did I do something?” You asked, feeling yourself grow smaller as she looked back at you. 

Tara saw you staring down at her like a lost puppy. She hated what that was doing to her. She hated how you were able to make her feel things so easily. 

“No! No, I just need space, okay? Not everything’s about you!” Her raised voice caused you to flinch and take a step back; Tara hated herself at that moment. 

“Okay,” you replied in a quiet voice. 

“Y/N I didn’t—”

“If you need anything, Anika’s up.” 

Before Tara could say anything, you were gone. 

—

You knew very little about the person who now sat where Tara previously did. Tara either paid her to switch or the woman really just didn’t mind. You haven’t introduced yourself to her yet.

You heard her name being called once; Charlotte. You were too stubborn to actually ask her for her name. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to pick up on your silence. Truth be told she noticed you in class before. So when Tara approached her about a seat change, she asked no further questions and agreed.

“Hey,” Charlotte finally spoke up one class. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.” You turned your head slightly to look at her. There was no denying her beauty. 

“Y/N,” you simply responded before turning back to your notes. Charlotte turned back to her own work while she mustered her next words. 

“So, you’re not much of a talker huh,” she nervously chuckled. You looked at her from the corner of your eye before averting your stare back to your notes. “I guess,” you murmured.

Throughout class you resisted looking back at Tara, and occasionally Charlotte would miss something so she would politely ask you for your notes, which you then would silently turn your papers for her to see.

You kept your head down and didn’t meet her gaze as you did this, but if you did you would have seen her warm smile; in a way you felt it.

After class you heard footsteps running up to you. You turned around to see Charlotte. “I just wanted to thank you for the notes,” she told you. 

You spared a faint smile before responding, “No problem.” You watched as she took out a little piece of paper and handed it to you. When you took it you could see numbers written on it. 

“I’d love to thank you over a cup of coffee or even dinner or something. That’s my number, so you can call or text whenever you want.” You lightly nodded at her as you looked at the paper.

“See you around, Y/N,” she smiled at you again before taking off. 

“What do we have here?” The voice causes you to jump a bit, before rolling your eyes when you see the culprit. 

“Geez, Anika. Quit sneakin’ up on my like that,” you sighed as you two started walking.

“Maybe if you were more self aware, you would notice your friend being right next to you,” Anika commented. 

“Whatever.”

“Anyways, who was that?”

“Just some chick from my history class,” you said in a nonchalant manner. 

“Does she happen to have your…interest?” She asked you with a quirked up eyebrow. 

You thought for a second before answering. “I guess.”

“ ‘I guess’? Gee. How descriptive.” Anika remarked sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her, adjusting the strap of your bag.

“I don’t know, okay? I’m still figuring some shit out, but maybe I do.” You shrugged, you and Anika taking a turn.

“By ‘figuring shit out’ do you mean, Tara?” She asked knowingly. That made you do a double take at your roommate. 

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed dramatically. 

“You know I overheard that argument you two had, right?” 

“I don’t know exactly what you heard but it’s not what you think,” you sighed, eyes looking everywhere but Anika. You hated when she was right.

“Really? Cause’ it seems like she’s the girl that has you so worked up.”

“Stop it.” You said with annoyance in your tone, growing slightly flustered from being called out.

—

You sat at the seat across from Charlotte . You both eventually had decided to go out on Friday night for dinner. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to take up her offer. So, that’s where you were; sitting in a diner with her across from you. 

Your hands rested on your lap as you listened to her speak. She had cinnamon skin, gorgeous hair and dark brown eyes. You couldn’t help but admire dark brown eyes; they were so easy to drown in. 

“So, enough about me. What about you?” She suddenly asked.

“What about me?” You echoed, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“I want to get to know you. Right now you’re just the quiet girl who I sit next to in history, and cute at that,” she winked at you. 

You lightly blushed at the compliment before replying. “I don’t really know what to say. Mind giving me some starter questions?”

“Okay, you got any siblings?”

“Yup. Two brothers, Stephen and Oliver.”

“You like them?”

“Tolerate’ em.”

She let out a giggle before continuing. “Are you the oldest or youngest?”

“I’m in the middle, actually. Oliver’s the oldest and Stephen’s the youngest.” 

You soon found out she had two sisters and two brothers, both her parents were doctors, and her favorite color’s purple. As the night went on you two found out a little more about one another. It was nice just talking. You weren’t sure if this was a date but the thought hung around in your head.

Would it be so bad if it was?

You walked the city’s streets with Charlotte, your jacket hung from your arm as she hugged her own closely. 

“This was really nice, I’d love to do it again sometime,” She spoke up.

You looked at her then back at the ground, a small smile starting to graze your face. 

“Yeah…that’d be nice,” You said genuinely, before she stopped at an apartment building. 

“Well, this is me.”

“I’ll see you around?”

“Of course,” she smiled at you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said before leaving. 

You stood there, slightly stunned from the kiss. It was no secret that it had been a while since you’ve been in a genuine relationship. 

Maybe—just maybe, Charlotte could be the one to change that. 

—

The next day you went to work your shift. You passed the time like you usually did; if you weren’t serving customers you had music in your ears and cleaning counters that you’ve already wiped down a hundred times before that same day.

The bell above the door rings, but you don’t look up as you say, “Welcome to The Coffee Club.” Your voice was monotone. 

The person stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you. It wasn’t until they were shoved to the counter by someone beside them that you looked up. 

You opened your mouth as you lifted your head, but quickly shut it as soon you saw the person.

“Oh. It’s you.” Your voice wasn’t laced with bitterness or rudeness, just a slight shock from seeing her here. If your voice was not a give away of that then your expression definitely was. Your eyes were widened a bit, your eyebrows were raised and you almost looked…flushed? 

“Uh, what can I get you?” You asked, clearing your throat and trying to sound unfazed by her presence.

“Um, just a…” Tara trailed off as she suddenly forgot what she came here for. Mindy looked between you two.

“Hot chocolate?” You finished for Tara. All Tara could do was nod at you. 

“And I’ll have a hot coffee; milk and sugar please,” Mindy spoke up, breaking whatever staring contest you and Tara had going on.

“I’ll, uh, get on that right now.” You put your pen behind your ear. Tara and Mindy sat at a table nearby as you prepared their orders. 

“What was that?” 

Tara groaned at her friend, holding her face with her hands. “I don’t know. I had completely forgotten she works here most days,” she answered, her voice coming out slightly muffled due to her hand still covering her face. 

“You’re still giving her the silent treatment, aren’t you?” Mindy asked even though she already knew the answer.

“Well, I uh…kind of made it worse…”

“How?” Mindy asked, slightly dragging out the H while furrowing her eyebrows.

“We had a bit of an argument last week,” Tara answered, the memories of that morning painfully flashing through her mind.

“About what?”

“I snapped at her over something really stupid, and—God I can’t stop thinking about her face when I did that.” Tara let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in. 

“By snapped, what do you mean, like, you yelled at her or something?” Tara sighed and nodded, looking away—feeling ashamed of herself.

“I think you two just need to talk, for real this time.” 

“I don’t want to—” She inhaled, looking down at her hands. 

“Don’t want to what?”

“Hurt her again…” Tara answered in a quiet voice. 

“Tar, listen to me, you’re one of the best people I know, and you can be gentle when you want to be. Just be you,” Mindy told her honestly.

“Maybe when you two finally make up you can make that dream you had a reality and make out already—”

“Mindy!”

Before Tara could say anything else, you walked up to the table with their drinks.

“One hot coffee with milk and sugar, and a hot chocolate,” you repeated their order. Mindy said thank you, and so did Tara—not without Mindy kicking her under the table to do so—before taking a sip of the steaming hot drink.

The mug covered her eye line, so she didn’t see you sneak a Strawberry donut with sprinkles—or as she likes to call it, a Homer Simpson donut—in front of her. By the time she did notice you were already gone.

You had a habit of disappearing without saying goodbye. 

When Mindy and Tara finished, they made their way back to the apartment. They walked into the apartment to find Chad and Ethan playing Resident Evil four. 

“You’re still playing this game?” Tara inquired, pulling off her jacket and throwing it somewhere. Mindy let out a slight chuckle before making her way to the kitchen.

“All. Fucking. Day.” Sam replied, coming into the living room. 

“I don’t blame them. Have you seen Ada?”

“They haven’t gotten up in seven hours.”

“I got it,” was all Tara said, before walking away.

Five seconds later she came back with a spray bottle.

—

The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid sentence as you were on the phone with Anika. 

“Hey, I gotta go. Talk to ya later?” You said your goodbyes to each other before walking up to the door. You weren’t sure who could be visiting but whoever it was was growing impatient. 

“Alright, alright! I’m coming,” you called out, walking up to the door. 

You finally unlocked and opened it to—unexpectedly—Tara. This took you by surprise which was evident from your expression. There wasn’t much to go off from but Tara’s known you long enough to read even your littlest details. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Tara finally spoke up again.

“Can I come in? I need to talk to you,” she told you. You responded by opening the door wider, letting her inside the apartment. 

Her eyes wandered around the room before landing them back on you. You quickly averted your gaze, realizing you have been staring at the younger Carpenter a little too long. 

“Been a while since I’ve been here,” Tara said, sitting down on the couch.

You let out a dry chuckle before responding. “You’re telling me…” 

Tara noticed you were still standing, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sit near her. Just then, she remembered why she came here.

“So, what do you want?” You asked unkindly. 

Tara took a second to muster what she wanted to say. She didn’t want to mess this up. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing this time. 

She didn’t want to hurt you again.

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not expecting an apology. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, and I’m sorry for blatantly avoiding you for the past few weeks,” she said in one breath. 

“Wait—I wasn’t expecting an apology. I thought you were gonna yell at me again or something,” you poorly joked with a dry chuckle. 

“That wasn’t my best moment,” she said with shame in her voice. She could never forget your face that morning or how you backed away from her as if she would hurt you. 

You looked down at your shoes, considering Tara’s words. You should get your revenge—make her pay for the past few weeks. But instead you decided against it, for whatever reason, you decided against it. Maybe it was her voice as she spoke, maybe it was the bags under her eyes, or maybe it was just simply her. Whatever it was, it caused you to let her off easy.

“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

“Anything,” Tara replied, a little too quickly. 

“Stop avoiding me,” you said in a softer voice, and you slowly began to take the seat beside her. 

“Deal,” Tara promised, looking at you.

“Pinky swear?” You held up your pinky, for her take.

Tara couldn’t help the smile that grew as she took your pink in hers. 

“Pinky swear.” 

“Now that you’re not avoiding me anymore, you wanna go over last class’s notes?” Already moving on as if she hadn’t been giving her the silent treatment for the past for weeks, and you weren’t still curious as to why.

Your pinkies unlocked, Tara missing the contact.

“Well, you know how much I looove doing that,” Tara sarcastically answered. 

“Ha. Ha.” You got up from the couch, “I’m gonna go get my binder. Give me like two seconds.” You said before rushing away to your room like a child who was having a playdate, rushing off to grab a toy for you and your friend to play with. 

Tara couldn’t stop smiling to herself at the sight of you. It had been far too long since she’s seen you one on one like this. She hated to admit it but she missed you more than she realized. Now that she was thinking about it, she missed a lot of things about you; your smile, your voice, your humor, how you lit up a room with just your presence, even that fuzzy feeling you gave her.

Oh.

Oh, Mindy was right. Tara had somehow found herself crushing on you.

“Fuck.”

-----------

A/N: Platonic!Chara>>> (dw gonna do that justice later)

I wonder who R saw in the mirror...

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She Don’t Wanna Marry Me

Part 4

16 Years Old

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar blonde ran up to you.

“Oh hey Jessie what’s up?” You crossed your arms as you spoke to the girl.

Lorraine quietly stood next to you as your walk home was interrupted.

“Nothin much.” The girl

Giggled twirling her hair. “I just wanted to know if you’d want to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?”

Lorraine’s jaw clenched as she watched your face. She couldn’t tell if you were interested by the way you kept your expression smooth.

“I appreciate the offer Jessie but someone already asked me.”

Both girls eyes widened surprised before Jessie smirked her shy demeanor gone.

“Well I can promise you an extra good time if you go with me.” Her hand went to graze your arm with its fingernails making Lorraine scoff. You glance at the girl offering Jessie a short nod before you led the small brunette on the path home.

Once she was out of ear shot Lorraine let loose.

“Skank.” You barked out a laugh making the girl glare at you.

You raise your hands up in surrender.

“Hey what did I do? I completely agree with you.” Lorraine’s eyebrows furrowed.

You chuckle softly shaking your head.

“You really think I’ll let jezebel take me to the dance?” Lorraine shrugged her feet kicking a small rock as she refused to meet your eyes.

“Well if not her then what about the other girl that asked you?”

You shook your head.

“I turned her down told her I was planning on asking someone else.”

Shiny brown eyes met yours.

“Who?” She asked voice soft and curious as she bit her lip.

“I-“

“LORRAINE!” You let out a heavy sigh as Douchebag Danny came running up to the two of you.

The girl beside you shifted her attention to the boy running towards you. The moment gone the minute he’d stood in front of her.

“Hey..” he huffed trying to catch his breath. Hands on his knees as he bent over feeling as if his lungs were gonna collapse. “Hey.”

Lorraine giggled brushing a piece of her hair back. You felt your jaw clench knowing the tell tale sign of Lorraine crushing on someone.

“Hey Daniel, are you ok?”

The boy scoffed standing up straight still breathing heavily.

“Psshhh yeah I’m fine, better than fine actually I’m great.”

You rolled your eyes as you felt yourself almost puke.

“I heard a rumor that you were gonna ask me to the dance coming up.” Your eyes shot to the girl in question as she blushed, more nervous giggles and hair twirling as she looked up at the boy doe eyed.

“Maybe.” Pearly white teeth grinned at her.

“Well maybe I would say yes.” The girl squared her shoulders and stood taller.

“Will you go to the dance with me?”

“I’d love to go with you.”

You walk ahead giving the two space as they continued to talk. Douchebag following you as he offered to walk her home.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You didn’t look but knew Lorraine was already telling the boy yes.

You walked into the kitchen rubbing daddy’s shoulder as he read a newspaper and gave mama a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey baby how was school?” You shrug grabbing an apple.

“It was ok I’m not that hungry right now is it ok if I just go lay down?” The two looked to you concerned but were quickly interrupted by a squealing Lorraine.

“I got a date to Sadie Hawkins.” Her mom laughed clapping a bit before kissing her daughters cheeks.

“That’s great baby. We’ll go dress shopping this weekend ok?” The girl nodded enthusiastic as her father grunted.

“And what little punk thinks he’s good enough for my Rainey?” The girl almost rolled her eyes at her fathers protective nature. You remained quiet as your grip on the apple tightened and the slight flexing of your jaw increase. Slowly making your way to your room as you wanted to avoid any further talk of the dance.

“Daniel Smith down the street.”

He huffed. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“He’s 17 daddy.”

“Oh stop it.” She hit her husband. “He’s a sweet boy his mother and I are in the same book club and he always lends a hand when she needs it.”

“Yeah all boys are sweet at first then they go looking for one thing and the minute they get it-“

“Stop while you’re ahead.” Mrs. Day’s tone was calm but the threat behind her words gave little sense of peace.

His shoulders sagged before he sat up straight again turning to his daughter.

“I want to meet him before you leave and he better have you home by 11.” The girl clapped hugging her father before helping her mother set the table. She noticed only three plates being taken out.

“Is someone not eating?”

“Y/n said she wasn’t too hungry. I’ll leave her a plate in the microwave.” As the trio ate her father broke the silence.

“So did anyone ask her to the dance?”

Lorraine scoffed. “Yeah, the town tramp.”

Her father choked mid bite a hearty laugh following.

“Damn it Raine.”

“Lorraine.” Her mother scolded making the girl shrug at the mixed reactions.

“It’s true. She did say someone else asked but it wasn’t who she wanted to take.”

“Did she ever say who it was?” Lorraine shrugged.

“No idea.”

The next day you were more quiet than usual and as you went to leave, Mrs.Day stopped you.

“Aren’t you gonna wait for Lorraine?”

You shook your head.

“Douc-Daniels gonna get her.”

She nodded. “Would you want me to take you?”

You shook your head already one foot out the door. “I like the walk.”

As you were leaving you almost slammed into the idiot with nice hair.

“Oh hey Y/n is Lori ready?”

You felt your eyebrows scrunch together. Lori?

You shook your head rushing past him.

“Don’t know but I gotta get going.”

This was last week, the dance was in a few days and all but one Day noticed your strange behavior. You were listening to music when Mrs.Day knocked on your door.

“Hey sweetie.” You put your phone down slowly taking off your headphones confused.

“Everything ok?” Mama laughed sitting next to you on your mattress.

“I should be asking you that darlin you’ve been quiet and we haven’t seen much of you.” You shrug.

“Just been busy.” The woman smirked.

“Avoiding Lorraine?” You flush slightly rubbing your neck.

“I’m guessing she was who you wanted to ask to the dance.” You stare slightly embarrassed as you nod.

She gently placed a hand on your cheek brushing some hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry baby.” You shrug again. “But I think you shouldn’t mope around.”

“You’re not mad at me for liking Lorraine?”

The older woman laughed.

“Baby if I got mad at you for that I would’ve hated you since we met.”

You stay silent. “How about we go get you something nice for the dance?”

You shook your head. “I think I’ll pass.”

She nodded as she stood going to her bathroom brushing her teeth as she got ready for bed.

Her husband resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Y/n just realized she likes Raine.” Mr.Day laughed.

“That poor kids been in love with her since they met, we just gotta wait to see if Rainey will catch up.” Her eyebrows shot up.

“You knew?!” He laughed nodding.

“I may not be the sharpest tool

in the kit but I know love struck when I see it.”

“I give it 2 years before they get together.” Her husband grinned.

“I think it’ll take longer than that I give it 5.”

22 Years Old

Mr.Day was quiet as he brushed his teeth, his wife next to him rubbing lotion into her skin.

“Guess we both lost that bet huh?”

Mr.Day chuckled. “I got until the end of this year but yes it’s looking like we were wrong.”

Mrs.Day sighed.

“Is it our fault?”

“Of course not! We can’t dictate her life. It’s better to wait for the right thing then to race for the wrong thing.” She shook her head.

“She’s getting married.”

“She’s engaged, she ain’t married there’s still time for her to figure out what her heart wants.”

“And what if it’s Rj?” At this Mr.Day scoffed.

“Yeah and what if pigs fly?” The back of her hand slapped his shoulder.

“Im serious.”

“And I am too darlin’. Look Raine may take some time but I think a part of her knows RJ ain’t right for her. Im hoping a part of her also knows that while she may not love Y/n she deserves someone who would love her like Y/N would.”

They stayed quiet until Mr.Day broke the silence again laughing.

“You remember Daniel?” His wife finally cracked a smile.

“Such a sweet boy.” Mr.Day laughed.

At the dance she had only talked about you and how she wished you were there with her. Daniel had tried to steer her concentration to them but ended up taking her home early. Their “first kiss” decent but no fireworks. The dates were nice but she’d find herself wishing she were hanging out with you instead. They had tried, going bowling, grabbing pizza, even small walks in the park. This went on for months before Lorraine had decided to end it. She didn’t feel the connection she yearned for.

Lorraine had come in crying she hadn’t stopped to talk to her parents she just ran up to your room pouncing on you the moment she went through the door. Her arms slung around your neck as hot tears met your skin. She was so upset she couldn’t speak. You consoled her and let her take your bed before you snuck out knocking on the boys door and punching him with no explanation.

“I was the one who taught her to punch.” Mr. Day grinned proudly as his wife hit him once again.

Back at your apartment, you had just finished washing up when you heard a sharp knock at your door. You went to open the door and found Lorraine on the other side.

“Raine?”

“So an apartment above the shop is better than our home?”

“What? No I-“

“Did you leave because you didn’t want them to catch you sneaking in girls?”

“What?! Raine-“ the girl stumbled into you. Big baby browns locking onto yours as soft hands stroked your face.

“Or is it because you hate me?” You watched as a light shimmer of tears lined her eyelids.

You grabbed her chin firmly making her breath bitch.

“Now that’s a damn lie Lorraine I could never hate you.” You sniffed and almost gagged at the familiar scent.

“Are you drunk?” Her body sagged against you her head hitting your shoulder as she nodded.

“And you drove here?!” She shook her head.

“I had Bobby drop me off.”

You sighed, picking the girl up bridal style.

She laughed arms going around your neck as she did so.

“You’re my best friend.” You laid her gently in your bed as you went to grab some extra blankets.

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.” You stop, looking at her cheesy grin knowing she doesn’t mean it the way you want her to.

It’s only when her soft snoring hits your ears that you realize she’s fallen asleep.

“I love you so much more.” You place a soft kiss on her forehead as you go to sleep in the couch.

Once you throw yourself down you raise one arm behind your head, eyes staring at nothing as you wonder what you’ll do when she marries him.

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