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thedemoninme141 · 13 days ago

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Her Heartbeat; Chapter 22: Her Heartbeat.

Parings: Wednesday x Fem reader. Wordcount: 11.5k.

Summary: You changed Wednesday's heartbeat forever.

Warnings: Angst or No Angst?

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Wednesday stood still, her dark, hollow eyes fixated on it...

On your name... carved into the smooth, cold surface.

The weight of the world pressed down on her shoulders, and yet, the world itself felt unbearably empty. Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she reached out, fingertips ghosting over the etched stone.

God, she missed you too much already.

She had always known this moment would come, had braced herself for it from the very beginning, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could prepare her for the weight of this emptiness.

The flowers in her hand were black roses, your favorite, the ones you said reminded you of her, resilient, beautiful, and worth everything, you had said.

She knelt down, brushing her fingers over the soft petals before setting them at the base of the headstone.

Behind her, a voice broke the heavy silence.

“Grandma Wednesday, how was Grandma Y/N?”

Wednesday didn’t turn around. Her dark eyes stayed fixed on your name, the corners of her lips twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She was…She was everything.”

It had been a good 62 years, with you…

“The surgery was successful.”

For a moment, Wednesday didn’t move. The words reached her ears, but they felt distant, muffled, as if she were hearing them underwater, she couldn’t process them. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. Fate had a cruel sense of humor, always snatching away what she loved most. Her mind repeated the doctor’s words over and over, trying to convince herself they were real.

She didn’t even register Enid’s arm wrapping around her shoulders until the warmth of the embrace seeped through her. It was a strange feeling—light and fragile, like something inside her had shifted, broken apart and rebuilt itself all at once.

All she could feel was the thundering of her own heartbeat,

You were alive.

She barely registered the doctor’s additional words, something about being able to see you after a few hours. It was as if the room had been muted, and all she could focus on was the singular fact that you were still here.

Time dragged on and yet moved too quickly. Minutes blurred into hours as she waited, her patience hanging by a thread. And then, finally, she was led to the room where you rested.

The sight of you made her knees almost give out.

You were there. Alive. Awake. The sight of you made her legs almost give out. You were pale, fragile-looking, but your eyes—those eyes that haunted her dreams—were open and staring at her with a soft, tired smile.

“Hey, Angry Bird,” you said, your voice weak but carrying that familiar tease.

Her feet moved before she realized what she was doing. In a matter of seconds, she was at your bedside, her hands reaching out to grasp yours. She didn’t care about appearances, didn’t care about keeping up her usual mask. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t care about that either.

“You’re…” She swallowed hard, her voice unsteady. “You’re okay.”

Your smile was soft, tired. “ You are not getting rid of me that easy."

The corner of her mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile. “You have an infuriating tendency to make me worry.”

Your fingers tightened around hers, the faintest squeeze. “Worth it, though. If it means I get to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Soft.”

Wednesday’s gaze darkened, but there was no real anger behind it. “I could smother you with your pillow right now.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” you teased, your smile weak but radiant.

“You’re insufferable.” she said.

"I love you too." you said.

Her chest tightened, a mix of frustration and overwhelming relief flooding her system. “I wanted to protect you,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “But you made your choice. And you… you survived.”

“Because of you,” you said simply. “You gave me the strength to fight. You gave me everything, Wednesday.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Words felt inadequate, too small to convey the depth of what she was feeling. So instead, she leaned down, pressing her forehead gently against yours.

And she realized she could wish.

She could wish for you.

And she would.

Wednesday walked beside you, her hand brushing yours with every other step, though she never quite reached for it.

It had been a week since you left the hospital, a week since you proved to the universe that you were stronger than anyone had ever given you credit for.

And yet, Wednesday couldn’t help the way her dark eyes would flit to you every few seconds, as though to confirm you were truly there, walking beside her.

In your hand, you held the diary. That diary. The one that had started this journey, that had changed her in ways she still struggled to articulate.

It was an object so small, yet it held the power to shatter her walls and force her to confront emotions she never believed she could feel.

Now it held an almost sacred place in her mind. It wasn’t just your story anymore; it was their story.

But it would all be over soon. The bucket list that had been her compass for months was coming to an end. It should have been a relief—proof that you were safe, that you had survived—but instead, it felt like losing something precious. It had connected her to you in ways she never expected, and now… now, it was slipping away.

“Wednesday?” Your voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, soft and tentative.

She turned her head slightly, meeting your gaze. “Yes?”

“You’re quiet,” you said with a small smile, though the concern in your eyes was impossible to miss.

“I’m always quiet,” she replied.

You chuckled softly. “Not like this.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched at her sides, itching to reach for you, to feel the solidity of your hand in hers and remind herself that you were here, that this was real. But instead, she drew in a breath, “I’m fine,” she said, though the words felt like a lie.

You didn’t press her, but your gaze lingered on her, and she could feel the weight of your concern.

When the two of you finally reached your special place, the fireflies danced in the air like tiny embers, illuminating the clearing in soft, golden light. Wednesday watched your face light up at the sight, your lips parting in a quiet gasp of awe. It was the same expression you wore everytime you came here, as if seeing it for the first time.

You turned to her, holding out the diary with both hands. “I want you to do it,” you said quietly.

Her brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Tick it off,” you said, nodding toward the diary. “The last one.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“You’ve been with me through all of this. You made everything on this list possible. It’s only right that you finish it.”

Wednesday stared at the diary as if it might burn her fingers. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached out and took it from your hands.

She opened it, flipping through the pages, her dark eyes scanning the wishes that had already been fulfilled. Each one was a memory, a moment she would carry with her forever.

And then she found it.

“Save a life.”

Her fingers twitched as you handed her the pen, the small object feeling heavier than it had any right to be.

Her hand hovered over the page, the tip of the pen poised above the box. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, willing herself to focus. This wasn’t just a checkmark; it was a symbol of everything you had survived together. Of the nights spent wondering if you’d see the next sunrise, of the fears she’d never admitted aloud, of the love she had fought so hard to protect.

And then, she drew the line, completing the small, simple mark. But as she did, a wave of emotions crashed over her, threatening to drown her in their intensity. Relief. Gratitude. Joy. And beneath it all, a gnawing sense of emptiness she couldn’t quite shake.

You were safe now. You didn’t need her to protect you anymore. The thought should have been comforting, but instead, it left her feeling untethered, like a part of her purpose had been taken away.

“There,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “It’s done.”

You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Wednesday. For everything.”

You had kept your promise,

And now, it was her turn.

Wednesday reached into the pocket of her coat, pulling out a small, leather-bound notebook. She held it out to you.

You blinked at it, confused. “What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Her voice was calm, but there was something underneath it—a vulnerability that made your fingers tremble slightly as you took the notebook from her.

When you opened it, your breath caught.

It was a wishlist. Just like yours.

Your eyes flicked up to meet hers, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. “Wednesday…”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze darting away as if embarrassed. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just read it.”

You smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you turned your attention back to the list.

Dance in the rain with her. You smiled, your heart swelling. “You hate the rain.” “You love the rain,” she replied as if that answered everything.

You stood in the middle of it, water dripping down your face as you looked at Wednesday, who stood a few feet away.

“You really want to do this now?” you called over the storm, your laugh carried away by the wind.

Wednesday’s dark hair clung to her face, her usual pristine appearance completely ruined by the downpour. But her eyes were fierce, a fire burning in their depths. She stepped closer

You didn’t need more convincing.

She reached for you, her hands finding your waist as yours rested on her shoulders. The rain fell harder, soaking through your clothes, but neither of you cared. Wednesday guided you slowly, her movements stiff at first but growing more fluid as she let herself go.

Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away the water—or maybe it was a tear.

"Create a yearly tradition of Y/n's choice" You smirked, you already had an idea...

Bright, garish sweaters of every imaginable color and pattern filled the room, and her group of idiots was there too...

“This,” Wednesday muttered darkly, tugging at the scratchy fabric of the sweater, “is the single greatest regret of my life.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter. “Come on, Wednesday, ugly sweater parties are iconic.”

“I thought you would choose something dignified,” she snapped, glancing at the sweater again. It was black—thankfully—but the design was an abomination: a grinning skull wearing a Santa hat...

“Smile, Wends!” Enid came from nowhere, holding up her phone.

Wednesday’s glare could’ve incinerated the device, but just as Enid was about to take the picture, you leaned into Wednesday, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Her eyes widened just slightly, the shock visible in her face.

Enid gasped dramatically after taking the photo, “Awww this one is so cute!!”

“Delete that immediately,” Wednesday demanded.

“Absolutely not,” Enid yelled running for her life... “This is going in the scrapbook.”

“I will never forgive you for this,” Wednesday said, but there was a warmth in her eyes that said the opposite.

“I love you too,” you teased, leaning in to kiss her.

And as she watched you laugh and shine among your friends, she realized something: Maybe ugly sweater parties weren’t the worst tradition after all.

“Stay inside and read books all day.” “Why do I feel like this is less my wish and more your dream scenario?” Wednesday tilted her head, feigning innocence in a way only she could. “Are you implying I tailored this wish for my own enjoyment?” “I’m not implying anything,” you replied, narrowing your eyes playfully. “I’m outright accusing you.” Her lips twitched in the faintest smirk. "Good. Think of it as a challenge." "Really? A Challenge? I can easily stay inside with nothing but books all day." you added.

“This is torture,” you declared, flopping onto your back. “maybe we could add, like, a little break? Just a quick scroll through social media, maybe a movie—”

“No.” Wednesday’s voice was sharp, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book. “The wish was clear. All day. No distractions. No technology. Just books.”

You groaned, slumping dramatically in your chair. “I didn’t think it would be this... quiet. How are you so good at this?!”

“Because I’m not a modern-day parasite glued to glowing rectangles,” she replied coolly, turning a page with deliberate precision.

“Glowing rectangles make life bearable,” you muttered, eyeing your phone on the far table like it was a lifeline just out of reach.

As the hours wore on, you did your best to immerse yourself in the story, though you took plenty of breaks to stretch, snack, or make sarcastic comments. By mid-afternoon, you were sprawled across the couch, halfway through a second book, when you caught Wednesday smirking faintly at you.

“What?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’re actually enjoying yourself,” she said, her tone smug.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “Fine. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing ever.”

“Perhaps I’ll make this a weekly occurrence,” she said, her tone infuriatingly calm.

Your groan echoed through the library, but even as you protested, you knew part of you wouldn’t mind doing it all over again as long as she is here with you...

Your eyes landed on the next entry "Visit the Northern Lights." you read aloud, your voice soft. A small smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over at her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” she said, her eyes never leaving yours. “But it pales in comparison to you.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. It wasn’t like her to say things like that, to be so open, so unguarded. “Wednesday…”

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, the auroras dancing above, painting the world in their ethereal light. The universe is infinite, and yet, in that moment, all that mattered was the girl beside you—the girl who had changed your life in ways you couldn’t put into words.

You turned your head, your eyes meeting hers again. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“For what?” she asked, her tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

“For being here. For letting me love you. For everything.”

Her gaze held yours, steady and unflinching. “The gratitude is mutual.”

“Did you write these wishes just for me?” you asked, teasing “Because most of them seem like something I would’ve put in my own diary.”

“They are not for you,” she said simply, “they are for us.”

Your chest tightened at her words. For someone who wielded words like knives, Wednesday Addams could cut you down to your core with these words.

“Us,” you repeated, your voice almost a whisper, as if you were afraid saying it too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

She nodded, her dark eyes steady on yours. "These wishes... they’re not just for you to live. They’re for me to understand what it means to live with you. Go onto the next wish.”

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat as you turned the page. And tho, you have always wished your heart to beat faster, you can feel it now, going extra fast.

"Get Married."

Slowly, you looked up.

Wednesday was already on one knee.

A small dark velvet box in her hand.

Her dark eyes bore into yours, unguarded and vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. She opened the box, revealing a ring that was as unique and beautiful as she was.

"I didn’t love you because I was lonely,” she began, her voice steady but filled with raw emotion. “Far from it. My world was quiet, and I was content in my solitude. But then you came into my life, like a comet streaking across the night sky. You weren’t just a spark—you were a fire that consumed everything, that made me see the world in a way I never thought possible.”

Tears blurred your vision as her words washed over you.

“You made me see color, feel life, experience joy. You’ve given me more than I ever thought I deserved. And now, the thought of losing you…” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “It would be like being plunged back into darkness. You are my light, my everything. And I don’t want to spend another moment without you.”

She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours. “You gave me everything. And if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life giving it back to you. Would you take one step into forever with me?"

Tears streamed down your face as you dropped to your knees in front of her, wrapping your arms around her. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Yes, of course, yes.”

She held you close, her grip fierce as if she was afraid to let go. And in that moment, with the fireflies dancing around you and your heart beating steadily against hers, everything felt just right.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Enid’s voice reverberated through the Ophelia hall.

Wednesday calmly placed her fingers over the keys, she knew the chaos she was about to unfold.

“I proposed,” she said flatly, not even bothering to glance Enid’s way.

Enid gasped dramatically, her hands flying to her mouth “You PROPOSED?” She squealed, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it! You, of all people, did something so romantic! I mean, I always knew you were secretly sappy, but this? Wowie, this is next-level!”

“Control yourself, Sinclair."

Enid practically vibrated in place, her grin so wide it looked almost painful.

“I’m going to be your maid of honor!” Enid announced throwing her arms into the air.

Wednesday blinked, her expression unamused. “The wedding is years away. Two or three, at least. There’s no need to discuss something so far in advance.”

“Doesn’t matter!” Enid chirped, “I’ll start planning now. We’ll need a dress, obviously, and I’m thinking flowers, maybe something gothic to match your vibe, but not too gloomy because Y/N is, like, the literal sunshine to your darkness. Oh, and—”

“Enid.”

“—maybe a fall wedding? Or winter! Ooooh, imagine a gothic winter wonderland theme with snow and—”

“Enid.” Wednesday’s tone sharpened, but the werewolf was undeterred.

“—and matching outfits for Thing and your brother—”

Wednesday groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. How she tolerated Enid was a mystery even she couldn’t solve.

“By the way, Dad,” you said, setting your mug down. “Wednesday proposed to me yesterday.”

He didn’t even look up at first, too engrossed in his newspaper. “That’s nice, sweetheart.”

Then it hit him. His head snapped up so fast you thought he might have given himself whiplash. “Wait, she WHAT?”

You bit back a laugh as your dad’s coffee cup slipped from his hand, spilling onto the table. His eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly agape.

“She proposed,” you repeated, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as a grin tugged at your lips.

“Proposed,” he echoed dumbly, “Like, as in, marriage?”

“Yup.”

He blinked at you, then ran a hand down his face. “Oh, my God.”

“Surprised?” you teased, leaning your chin on your hand.

“Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like her. She’s... uh, unique. But marriage? Aren’t you two a little young for that?”

“We’re not getting married tomorrow, Dad,” you assured him. “It’ll be a few years. But yeah, we’re serious.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. “I… I don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified. Maybe both.”

“She makes me happy, Dad,” you said softly, your voice full of sincerity. “Like, really happy. And I think I make her happy too, in her own… Wednesday way.”

Your dad let out a long sigh, his expression softening as he looked at you. “Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. But, uh… I’m going to need some time to wrap my head around this."

“Take all the time you need,” you said, unable to hide your amusement as he reached for his spilled coffee.

From her window, Wednesday watched you from afar, her hands clasped behind her back. Your laughter echoed faintly, carried by the breeze, and it stirred something deep within her, warmth.

She had brought you to her family mansion for the winter vacation, to show you a part of her world, of herself.

“You’re staring,” came Morticia’s voice from behind her, smooth and knowing.

Wednesday didn’t look away. “I’m observing.”

Morticia stepped beside her. Her gaze followed her daughter’s to where you were now chasing Thing across the field.

“She has a light about her,” Morticia said softly. “It’s rare for an Addams to be drawn to such brightness.”

“She’s not just light,” Wednesday replied, “She’s fire. She burns, and I can’t look away.”

Morticia tilted her head, a small smile gracing her lips. “You’re sure about this? Marriage is not a fleeting thing. It’s a vow, a promise you must keep forever.”

Wednesday didn't even take her eyes off you for a moment. “I have never been more certain of anything. She is my promise.”

Morticia studied her daughter for a long moment. Finally, she placed a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder, “Then keep that promise well, my raven.” she said softly.

Wednesday’s gaze drifted back to you, her heart steady and she knew, she would. For you, she would keep every promise.

And now, Wednesday stood before the full-length mirror in her room, she adjusted the collar of her black coat with deliberate precision. Everything about it screamed Wednesday Addams—dark, deliberate, and just a touch theatrical.

But the rest of her? The faint unease in her eyes, the almost imperceptible tremble in her hands? That wasn’t familiar at all. Today wasn’t just another step forward; it was a leap into the unknown, tethered only by the trust she had placed in you.

And it is enough.

Two years. It had been two years since you’d said yes, since she’d slipped that ring onto your finger with hands steadier than her heart had felt. Two years of planning, of waiting, of promises whispered in quiet moments. Two years that had gone by faster than she would have liked.

She remembered A Dance. The Raven.

Wednesday remembered standing on the edge of the ballroom, her fingers tightening slightly around yours as she led you to the center. The same room. The same polished floor. The same glimmering lights.

Last year, in this very place, she had watched you collapse. She had felt her world teeter on the edge of something she couldn’t control. She didn't want to attend another raven, but she couldn't say no to you.

She didn’t know why you had insisted on revisiting the Raven, why you had wanted to confront the memories of that night. But standing there with you, she now realized it wasn’t about the past. It was about writing the present.

Her chest ached—not with fear, but with something far deeper. Something she didn’t have the words for.

“You’re thinking,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m always thinking,” she replied.

“About what?”

She hesitated. The answer felt too raw, too exposed. But this was you. You, who had shown her what it meant to live.

“About how this moment feels like a dream,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “And how I don’t want to wake up.”

You smiled, and for a second, she thought she saw tears glistening in your eyes. “Then don’t. Stay here with me.”

And just like that, the fear that had been clawing at her chest eased. You were here. You were alive. And for the first time in a long time, she believed you when you said everything would be okay.

The song ended too soon, the music fading into applause. But you didn’t let go of her. Not then, not ever.

She looked at you, her gaze steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you asked.

“For not letting me lose you.”

Your expression softened, and you reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll never lose me, Wednesday. I promise.”

And in that moment, she believed you.

Wednesday knew she would protect you, She has already committed her life and soul to your protection. As long as you are with her, she can hope, you can hope. She did promise to wish for you forever after all.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled her from her reverie. Pugsley stepped in, dressed in a suit that was slightly too big for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice hesitant but warm.

Wednesday turned to face him, “I’ve been ready.” she said, though her hands betrayed her with a slight tremble.

Pugsley grinned, his nervousness fading. “You look cool, Wens. Really cool.”

She gave him a curt nod, straightening her coat one last time. “ Let’s go.”

As they left the room together, Wednesday allowed herself one last thought: she wasn’t walking into the unknown. She was walking toward you, and that was all that mattered.

Wednesday looked up at the grand doors at the far end of the aisle, knowing that any moment now, they would open. This was how it had all started, here in this very place—this very church. When you had dragged her here for that absurd mission to break "little cupcake" out of an asylum for her wedding, Wednesday had felt detached back then, an outsider observing someone else's moment.

She hadn’t known you then, not really. You had been nothing more than a mystery wrapped in audacity and irreverent charm. She understood now, she had agreed to your plan not because she wanted to, but because something about you intrigued her, unsettled her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

And now, here she was, standing in that very spot, waiting for you. She never could have foreseen it. Back then, she had been indifferent to the concept of commitment, of love, of a future that wasn’t carefully crafted by her own hands. But then you had entered her life and ruined all her plans, burned them down and replaced them with something infinitely better.

The church doors creaked open, and her breath caught.

You were there, framed by the light pouring in from outside. Your dress was simple yet stunning, flowing around you like you had stepped out of a dream.

You weren’t trying to be beautiful. You were just being you.

And you were beautiful. It was a problem.

Your arm was linked with your father’s, his grip steady but full of emotion. Enid followed closely behind you, her face practically glowing with excitement as she trailed along with Brooke. But Wednesday didn’t spare them more than a glance. Her eyes were only on you.

Her entired world faded into nothingness as she watched you take those steps down the aisle. She felt it all over again—the weightlessness, the freefall. Her heart, that stubborn organ she once considered nothing more than a biological necessity, seemed to stutter in her chest. She had always prided herself on her control, her ability to keep her emotions tightly leashed. But in your presence, she unraveled in ways she didn’t mind at all.

When you finally reached her, your father placed your hand in hers. She grasped it firmly, her fingers curling around yours as if to remind herself that you were here, real and hers.

And that smile, that damn smile again, “Hey, Angry Bird,” you whispered softly.

“Hello, Trouble,” she replied, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her.

The ceremony began, but Wednesday barely heard the words. Her focus remained on you, her mind was filled with you, your hand warm in hers, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

When it was time for the vows, Wednesday took a deep breath and stepped closer.

“I never believed in fate,” she began, her voice low but steady. “I didn’t believe in destiny or serendipity or any of the romanticized notions people cling to. But then you happened.”

Her grip on your hand tightened slightly, grounding her.

“You walked into my life with chaos and unpredictability, and I hated it at first. I hated how you challenged me, how you saw through the walls I built, how you refused to let me retreat into the shadows where I felt safe. But what I hated most…” Her voice wavered for a fraction of a second. “Was how you made me feel. Because it terrified me. So today, I promise you everything. My mind, my heart, my… odd attempts at humor. All of it is yours, as long as you’ll have me. Because there’s no world, no life, no existence, where I don’t choose you.”

You blinked rapidly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you squeezed her hand. “Wednesday…” Your voice trembled as you began your vows. “My heart has always been fragile. I grew up thinking it would always be a weakness, a reminder of everything I couldn’t have. But then I met you. You didn’t just make my heart stronger—you made it feel alive."

“Every moment with you, every argument, every rare, stolen laugh—it made me want to fight, to live, to hold on. You once said I made your world brighter, but Wednesday, you’re the one who turned mine into something worth living for. You’re my heartbeat. My anchor. My everything."

"So today, I promise you my whole heart—flawed as it is. I promise you every laugh, every tear, every stolen moment we’ll ever have. Because as long as you’re with me, I’ll always be okay.”

The vows were complete, and the officiant spoke the final words. “You may now kiss.”

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, her hand cradling your face as her lips met yours in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an expression of love. The world could have ended, and she wouldn’t have noticed. There was only you, the warmth of your touch, the taste of forever.

“They grow up so fast!” Rick exclaimed, wiping an invisible tear.

Ashley elbowed him sharply, muttering, “Don’t ruin the moment!”

“Forever,” you whispered.

“Forever,” Wednesday echoed.

And that was the first step into forever....

The house was modest, perched on a quiet street lined with old trees. It wasn’t grand or intimidating, but when you stepped inside together, it was surreal. The space was bare, the rooms echoing with emptiness, but there was a strange comfort in it. It wasn’t just a house—it was a blank canvas, waiting to be filled with your lives.

“I expected something more sinister,” Wednesday murmured.

You laughed, nudging her lightly with your shoulder. “Not every home has to look like it belongs in a horror movie, Wednesday.”

“Perhaps not,” she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching in the faintest hint of a smile. “But it could benefit from a few gothic touches. A gargoyle or two. Perhaps black shutters.”

“Baby steps,” you teased, “We just got here.”

“The lighting is acceptable,” she observed. “And the walls are a neutral enough shade to tolerate.”

You grinned as you followed her, imagining all the ways you could bring warmth and life into the space. “I can already picture it,” you said, gesturing toward the living room. “A big couch right here, some bookshelves there, maybe a coffee table that doesn’t look like it belongs in the Addams Family mansion.”

Wednesday’s eyebrow arched. “You speak as if the Addams aesthetic isn’t timeless.”

“Oh, it’s timeless,” you agreed with a laugh. “But I think this house deserves a little bit of both of us. Your timeless gothic vibes and my... whatever it is you call my taste.”

“Chaotic,” she deadpanned.

You laughed again, and it echoed through the empty house, filling it with the first sound of home.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Boxes arrived in a steady stream, each one carrying a piece of your lives. Unpacking was both a chore and an adventure. You quickly learned that Wednesday was surprisingly particular about where things went.

“No,” she said, her tone sharp as she watched you place a stack of your favorite novels on a shelf. “Those belong on the second shelf, not the first. They’ll ruin the symmetry.”

You looked at her with mock exasperation. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Order is important,” she replied simply, taking the books from your hands and arranging them herself.

But for all her sternness, there were moments that melted your heart. Like the way she always did the heavy lifting, taking the heavy stuff away from you as if you would get hurt by them.

In the evenings, the two of you would sit together on the couch, sharing takeout and discussing plans for each room.

“Cozy, warm, maybe some fairy lights?”

Wednesday frowned. “Fairy lights?”

“They’re magical, you know?” you said with a grin.

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. Compromise, she reminded herself. This was your home now. Your home together.

The kitchen was next. Wednesday had little interest in the room, declaring it “your domain,” but she indulged you as you picked out dishes and cookware, commenting occasionally on your choices. She vetoed anything overly cheerful, shaking her head firmly at the sunflower-patterned dish towels you tried to sneak past her.

The bedroom was the trickiest part. Wednesday insisted on black sheets and dark curtains, while you argued for something lighter. In the end, you compromised: deep gray bedding and curtains that were dark but sheer enough to let in the light during the day.

The final touch was the garden. It wasn’t much—just a small patch of earth in the backyard—but it was yours. You spent an entire afternoon out there together, planting flowers and herbs, your hands dirty and your hearts light. Wednesday also helped and you couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it felt to share this with her.

By the time the house was fully decorated, it felt like a reflection of the two of you, an unlikely combination that somehow worked. It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

The two of you sank onto the soft blanket you’d brought, the world around you bathed in the gentle light of the fireflies. It was simple, just as Wednesday liked it, and just as you preferred. Grand celebrations had never been your style, and you knew Wednesday loathed them even more than you did. Here, it was just the two of you, in your special place.

“Three years together,” you said softly, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the back of her hand.

“Three years together,” she echoed, her gaze fixed on the fireflies as they danced through the clearing.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Words weren’t necessary; the silence was comfortable.

After a while, you reached into the bag beside you, pulling out a carefully wrapped package. “I got you something,” you said, handing it to her.

She turned her head, her dark eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. “I thought I told you—no gifts."

“It’s not much,” you said, handing it to her.

She gave you a pointed look but didn’t argue. Instead, she unwrapped the package, revealing an antique cello bow, the wood polished and smooth.

“I found it at this little shop in town,” you explained, watching her closely. “The owner said it was handcrafted in the 19th century. I thought… well, it reminded me of you. Timeless, elegant, and a little intimidating.”

Her fingers traced the polished wood, her dark eyes studying every detail. “It’s exquisite,” she said finally, her voice low.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, your smile widening.

She set the bow carefully on the blanket before reaching into her pocket. “I suppose it’s my turn now,” she said, pulling out a small box.

"I thought you said- No gifts" you teased.

"I meant no gift for me." She said as she opened it. Inside was a delicate butterfly pendant, the wings were intricately detailed, catching the light as if they might take flight at any moment.

She stepped behind you, brushing your hair to the side as she clasped the pendant around your neck. The cool metal rested against your skin, a weight that felt comforting.

“Thank you,” you whispered, turning to face her.

She inclined her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “It suits you.”

The two of you settled onto the soft grass again, her arms wrapped around you as you leaned against her.

Eventually, you broke the silence, your voice hesitant. “Wednesday… can I ask you something?”

Her gaze flicked to yours, sharp and focused. “You can ask me anything.”

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “Do you ever think about having a family? With me?”

She stilled, her expression unreadable, her dark eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “You mean children?”

You nodded, your fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. “I mean… with me. I’d carry, of course.”

You could see the wheels turning in her mind, the way her lips pressed into a thin line as she processed your words. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, but you knew her well enough to understand that she was thinking deeply. You didn’t push her, letting her sit with the idea.

In her mind, she pieced it together. She understood why you might want this, why the idea of creating life, of being a mother, mattered to you so much. It wasn’t just about the future—it was about the past.

You had lost your own mother before you ever had the chance to know her, and deep down, she realized this was your way of finding something you had always missed.

Her chest tightened at the thought, a pang of something close to guilt twisting in her gut. She had never been the kind of person who dreamed of motherhood, of soft lullabies and tiny hands clutching hers. But for you… just for you, she could imagine it.

“I don’t know if I would make a suitable parent,” she said finally, “But if this is what you want, then I will consider it.”

You leaned into her, your hand finding hers and squeezing gently. “That’s all I can ask.”

The hallway was quiet, save for the soft, almost hesitant sound of Wednesday’s voice. She stood outside the door, her hand hovering just above the wood as if her knock might shatter you further.

“Y/N,” she called softly, her voice betraying a tenderness reserved only for you. “Please open the door.”

Nothing.

She pressed her palm flat against the wood, closing her eyes. “Whatever you’re feeling, I want to help. Don’t shut me out. Not now. Please.”

There was no response, only the suffocating silence pressing between you. She took a slow breath, trying to keep the tightness in her chest from rising to her throat.

“It’s going to be okay,” she tried again, her tone softer this time. “You and I, we will figure this out. But I can’t do that if you won’t let me in.”

For a moment, she thought you might not answer, that she would be left standing there with nothing but her own thoughts. But then, slowly, agonizingly, it creaked open.

The sight of you nearly brought her to her knees.

You looked utterly broken. Your eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying, your hair disheveled, and your shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the world.

Her chest ached at the sight. She had seen you vulnerable before, but this was something different. This was devastation.

“Y/N,” she whispered, stepping forward cautiously, as if afraid you might shatter at her touch.

You didn’t say anything, but the look in your eyes told her everything. The raw pain, the guilt, the unbearable weight of the news you had received.

She thought back to the hospital visit, the sterile walls, the doctor’s careful but ultimately damning words. “It’s too risky.”

The words had hung in the air, suffocating and cold. She had gripped your hand tightly as the doctor explained the risks. Your heart simply wouldn’t survive the strain of carrying a child. They couldn’t, in good conscience, give you permission to try.

She had been silent the whole way home, watching you retreat further and further into yourself. She knew you were hurting, but she hadn’t anticipated this.

Wednesday stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Without hesitation, she pulled you into her arms, “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, her voice steady even as her heart fractured.

Your response was a choked sob, your arms wrapping around her as you buried your face in her shoulder. The sound of your crying tore through her, each sob a blade carving into her chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered between broken breaths. “I’m so sorry, Wednesday.”

Her brow furrowed, and she pulled back just enough to look at you. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“I—” Your voice cracked, and tears spilled down your cheeks as you struggled to get the words out. “I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t… I can’t give you a family.”

Her jaw tightened, and she shook her head. “Stop that. Don’t you dare put this on yourself.”

“But it’s true,” you said, your voice rising in anguish. “You deserve so much more, Wednesday. You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted, and I… I can’t give it to you. I’ve failed you.”

Her hands came up to cradle your face, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her dark eyes were filled with something fierce, something unyielding. The truth.

“You have already given me everything, Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “You have given me love, something I never thought I would find. You have given me a reason to hope, to feel, to want more from this life. You have given me you. That is more than enough.”

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head again. “But you deserve more. You deserve a family, Wednesday. A real one.”

She exhaled shakily, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “We can still have that,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t have to be the way we planned. There are other ways.”

You blinked at her, confusion and a flicker of hope mingling in your tearful gaze. “What do you mean?”

“We can adopt,” she said simply, her voice steady now. “There are children out there who need love, who need someone to fight for them, to protect them. We can be that for them. And we will love them just as fiercely as if they were our own.”

Your breath hitched, her words sinking in slowly. “Do you mean that?”

She nodded, her expression unwavering. “I mean it. I don’t care how our family comes to be, Y/N. As long as it’s with you, it will be enough. It will be everything.”

A fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks, “Wednesday,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“So am I,” she replied, her voice soft but resolute. “But I've learned this a long time ago, from you, fear doesn't make us weak, it gives us strength. It compels us to protect what matters most."

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

“You’ve got it backward,” she replied, her lips brushing against your temple. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

She guided you to the bed, pulling you down with her and wrapping you in her arms. Your head rested against her chest, and her fingers combed gently through your hair.

Exhaustion began to weigh heavily on you, the emotional toll of the day finally catching up, her steady heartbeat beneath your ear a soothing rhythm that began to lull you to sleep.

As your breathing evened out, Wednesday held you close, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Her mind was already spinning with plans, with hopes, with determination. She would make this right for you, for them.

“Violet is a sweet, curious child." The coordinator smiled warmly as she spoke, "She’s been with us for over two years now. She loves to draw, and she’s very imaginative but mostly, she loves to read. I think you’ll find her to be quite remarkable.”

Wednesday gave a curt nod, but there was a softness in her eyes that you recognized instantly. “We’d like to meet her,” she said simply.

The coordinator gestured toward the door. “She’s just down the hall. I’ll bring her to you.”

As the coordinator left, you turned to Wednesday, your heart racing. “This is it,” you whispered, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

Wednesday’s dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something unspoken there, a mixture of determination and tenderness. “Yes, it is,” she replied, her voice steady.

After a while, the coordinator entered, holding the hand of a a little girl with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that held a quiet curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, you crouched down to Violet’s level, offering her a gentle smile.

“Hi, Violet,” you said softly. “My name is Y/N, and this is Wednesday. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

She looked at you with wide eyes, her grip on the bear tightening slightly. “You have?”

“We have,” Wednesday confirmed, “Your love for books has not gone unnoticed.”

Violet’s lips twitched into a small smile, and she looked down at her bear, as if gathering courage. “Do you like stories too?”

Wednesday arched a brow and glanced at you. “Stories are… tolerable when told well. Though I prefer to write my own.”

Your laughter filled the space between you, and Violet giggled, the sound bright and pure. “She’s really good at writing,” you added, reaching out a hand toward Violet but not pushing her to take it. “Maybe she can tell you one someday.”

Violet studied you both for a moment, her eyes flickering between you and Wednesday before nodding shyly. “Okay.”

You spoke with her for a while, knowing her, learning about her favorite books and her dreams,

"I like to draw animals and… and stars.”

“That’s wonderful,” you replied. “You know, we have a lot of space at home where you can draw as much as you want. Would you like that?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded again, more eagerly this time.

Wednesday leaned forward just a fraction, her gaze steady but kind. “We’d like to give you a home, Violet. A place where you can draw, dream, and be yourself. Would that be something you’d want?”

For a moment, Violet seemed to study both of you, as if trying to decide if this was real or too good to be true. Then, her lips curved into a shy smile. “Yes,” she said softly.

You felt your chest swell with emotion as you exchanged a glance with Wednesday, who allowed the faintest flicker of a smile to grace her lips.

As Violet’s hand slipped into yours, something caught your eye. A movement near the doorway.

Standing just outside, half-hidden by the frame, was a little boy. He was watching the interaction, his dark eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and sadness. His skin was warm brown, and his clothes were slightly too big for his slender frame.

His big brown eyes watched you and Wednesday intently, a mixture of curiosity and sadness in them that tugged at your heart. He didn’t approach, staying just out of reach as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to join in.

Something inside you shifted. You could feel it in your chest, an ache that wasn’t just sympathy—it was recognition.

Wednesday shifted beside you, her gaze following yours. Her dark eyes lingered on the boy for a moment.

I watched as the others played with their mothers, your voice echoed in her ears...

You looked at the boy and gave him a small smile. His gaze flickered to Violet, then back to you, before he quickly ducked out of sight.

Without saying a word, you looked at Wednesday. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the two of you communicated without speaking. She gave you a single, decisive nod.

By the time the paperwork was completed and the day drew to a close, it wasn’t just Violet who was coming home with you.

“This is your home now,” you said softly. “Both of you. It’s yours.”

Wednesday stood behind you, her arms crossed, but there was no mistaking the softness in her expression as she looked at the two children.

Violet clung to your hand tightly, her other hand gripping one of River’s. He was quieter, his eyes darting around the room as though he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

“Would you like to see your rooms?” you asked, your smile warm and inviting.

Violet nodded eagerly, while River hesitated before giving a small nod of his own.

You and Wednesday led them upstairs to their rooms. Violet’s room was painted a soft lavender, with a small desk by the window and shelves waiting to be filled with books and art supplies.

“This is your room, Violet,” you said, kneeling beside her.

She looked around, her eyes wide. “It’s mine?”

“All yours,” you confirmed.

Wednesday, standing just behind you, added, “You can decorate it however you like.”

Violet’s smile grew, and she hugged her stuffed bear tightly. “Thank you.”

River’s room was a calming shade of blue, with a wooden chest at the foot of the bed and a space for toys you hadn’t yet bought. He stood in the middle of the room, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“River?” you prompted gently. “What do you think?”

He looked up at you, his dark eyes wide and uncertain. “It’s…mine?”

Wednesday stepped forward then, her voice low but steady. “It’s yours,” she said. “Everything here is yours.”

He glanced between you and Wednesday, his lips pressing together as if holding back tears. Then, to your surprise, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your waist.

Your breath hitched, and you knelt to his level, holding him tightly.

“You’re home now,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re safe, and you’re so, so loved.”

Wednesday stood nearby, her dark eyes felt a bit warm as she watched you. She knew you were going to be an incredible parent. You had a way of making people feel seen, of creating a safe haven out of nothing. And maybe—just maybe—she could be part of that too.

As River’s breathing slowed, his small body relaxing in your arms, Wednesday stepped forward, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. You looked up at her, your eyes still shimmering with tears.

This was your family. This was forever.

You had insisted on hosting the Christmas party this year, and though Wednesday had been less than enthusiastic about the idea of a house full of people, she couldn’t bring herself to say no to you.

Now, standing in the living room as the sound of laughter and conversation echoed around her, she found herself less irritated than she expected. Perhaps it was the way the snow was falling gently outside, the fire crackling in the hearth, or the sight of you darting between the kitchen and the living room, making sure everyone was comfortable and fed.

The house looked different tonight, dressed in its festive best. The tree stood tall in the corner, decorated with a mix of ornaments from you and the kids had collected over the years.

River had insisted on putting the star on top, despite his height advantage, and Violet had teased him relentlessly for nearly falling off the stepstool. Wednesday had watched from the sidelines, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles.

Enid was chatting animatedly with your father,her hands gesturing wildly as she described some recent adventure. Her two children, twins with Enid’s golden hair and infectious energy, were playing a game with Violet by the tree.

Violet, now a young woman, had grown into herself beautifully, her confidence and boldness were the perfect balance to her brother’s shyness.

Wednesday’s parents sat on the couch, Morticia regal as ever, Gomez a beacon of cheer, joining in Violet's game with Enid's kids.

She caught your father glancing at you often, pride evident in his eyes. It wasn’t hard to see why. You made it.

River sat on the edge of the couch, his posture stiff, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He was typically quiet, more comfortable in the background, but tonight he seemed… different. Nervous. Wednesday’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way he kept glancing at the clock or the subtle way he glanced toward the door.

Wednesday couldn't give it much thought because her eyes were on you again, the way you floated from one person to the next, ensuring everyone felt welcome and cared for. It was the kind of warmth she never knew she needed until you gave it to her.

“Mom?” River’s voice broke through her thoughts, hesitant and quiet.

She turned her head to find him standing nearby, his eyes wide and uncertain.

“Yes?” she asked, her tone as steady and measured as ever.

He glanced toward the clock again, then back at her. “There’s, um… someone coming over.”

“Someone?” she repeated, her brow arching.

Before he could elaborate, the doorbell rang, the sound cutting through the festive atmosphere. River’s face lit up with a mixture of excitement and sheer terror, and before anyone could react, he bolted for the door.

You appeared at Wednesday’s side just in time to catch the scene, your eyes narrowing in curiosity. “What’s he doing?”

“I believe we’re about to find out,” Wednesday replied, her gaze locked on the door as River flung it open.

Standing there was a girl, about his age. She looked equally nervous, clutching a small, wrapped gift in her hands. Her blond hair was tucked neatly behind her ears.

“Hi,” River said, his voice soft but filled with affection. “Come in.”

The girl stepped inside, her eyes darting around the room before settling on River, who gave her an encouraging smile.

“Everyone,” he began, his voice wavering slightly as he looked around the room, “this is Ella… my girlfriend.”

For a moment, there was silence. Not out of judgment, but because everyone, yourself included, was caught off guard.

Your father was the first to react, letting out a hearty laugh. “Well, look at that! Our boy’s got a girl!”

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, though her expression remained neutral as she studied the girl. Ella shifted under the weight of her gaze, but she didn’t falter, offering a polite smile and a quiet, “It’s nice to meet you.”

You stepped forward, breaking the tension with your usual warmth. “Ella, it’s wonderful to meet you,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “You’ve already made River’s night by being here.”

Ella blushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink as she glanced at River, who looked like he might melt into the floor.

Wednesday’s eyes flicked between the two of you, her sharp mind dissecting every interaction. She wasn’t distrustful of Ella, exactly, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but scrutinize anyone who dared to step into her family’s world. Especially when it came to her son.

When the girl finally turned to her, she straightened, offering a respectful, “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Addams.”

Wednesday’s brows lifted slightly. “Is it?”

“Wednesday,” you said under your breath, elbowing her lightly.

Ella hesitated but didn’t look away. “Yes, ma’am. River talks about you a lot.”

“Does he?” Wednesday’s tone was unreadable, “I’ll be watching.”

River groaned. “Mom, come on.”

You bit back a laugh, stepping closer to Wednesday and slipping your hand into hers. She glanced at you, her expression softening just enough for you to notice.

“She seems lovely,” you said quietly.

“She’s bold, I'll give her that. ” Wednesday replied, though there was no malice in her tone.

“Like someone else I know,” you teased.

“And who would that be?,” she replied, though her lips twitched slightly.

You smiled as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

And when Ella laughed at something River said, her expression lighting up, the look in River's eyes, Wednesday saw something she hadn't expected... Herself.

You were pacing back and forth in front of her, your hands twisting together anxiously. “Why is it taking so long?” you muttered, glancing at the double doors down the hall for what felt like the hundredth time.

Wednesday wanted to offer some sort of reassurance, but the truth was, she wasn’t calm either. How could she be? Her son, her River, was about to become a father. That thought alone was enough to unsettle her, though she’d never admit it aloud.

River sat a few seats away, his leg bouncing nervously, while Violet leaned against the wall, trying to keep him distracted. She had her arm draped around his shoulders, speaking to him in a low, soothing voice, though it was clear her efforts weren’t doing much to ease his tension.

“She’s going to be fine,” Violet said for the third time, squeezing River’s shoulder.

“I know,” River replied, though his voice wavered. “It’s just… what if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will,” Violet assured him, casting a glance at you and Wednesday.

You paused in your pacing to look at River, your heart aching at the sight of his obvious distress. “Ella’s strong, just like her husband,” you said, your voice filled with a warmth that seemed to fill the room despite the anxiety hanging in the air.

Wednesday’s eyes flicked to you, her sharp gaze softening slightly. Even in moments like this, you always found a way to bring comfort, to anchor those around you.

The sound of footsteps approaching snapped everyone to attention. You froze mid-step, your breath catching as the doctor pushed through the double doors, still wearing her scrubs.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor said, smiling warmly.

The room erupted. You let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, covering your mouth with your hands as tears filled your eyes. River shot to his feet, his face breaking into a mix of relief and joy, while Violet clapped him on the back with a grin.

Wednesday stayed seated, her hands gripping the armrests as the words settled over her. It’s a girl. She felt a strange tightness in her chest, an unfamiliar, almost overwhelming swell of emotion. She, Wednesday Addams, was a grandmother.

The word felt strange, as though it didn’t quite belong to her. But she could picture her mother’s delight at becoming a grandparent, could imagine you embracing the role with your boundless warmth, and maybe, since you are with her, she can too.

The moments blurred together after that. Eventually, they were led to the room where Ella rested, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. River was at her side, his hand on her shoulder as he gazed down at his wife and daughter with unfiltered love.

You were the first to approach, your eyes wide with wonder as you looked at the baby. “She’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“She is,” River agreed, his smile growing. “Meet Viper.”

The name caught Wednesday off guard, Viper, from her book...

“Come on,” you urged gently. “Meet your granddaughter.”

Her granddaughter. The words felt strange but oddly comforting. Stepping forward, Wednesday gazed down at the tiny face peeking out from the blanket.

“She’s… very small,” Wednesday observed, her voice quieter than usual.

Violet laughed weakly. “She’s a baby, That’s kind of the point Mom.”

“She’ll grow,” you added, looking at Wednesday with a knowing smile. “Just like all of them do.”

Years passed, and Viper did indeed grow, “Gloomma!” Viper’s voice echoed through the living room, pulling Wednesday out of her thoughts.

The little girl—who was no longer so little at five years old—came bounding toward her, clutching a stuffed raven in her tiny hands.

“I told you not to call me that,” Wednesday said, though her tone lacked any real bite.

Viper giggled, clearly unbothered by the reprimand. “But you’re gloomy, and you’re my grandma, so you’re Gloomma!”

“Logic,” you said from across the room, shooting Wednesday a teasing grin. “You can’t argue with that.”

Viper tugged on Wednesday’s sleeve. “Come play with me, Gloomma!”

“I don’t—” Wednesday began, but you cut her off.

“Yes, she’d love to,” you said, giving her a pointed look.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at you but allowed herself to be led toward the play area, where Viper had set up an elaborate tea party for her stuffed animals.

You watched as Wednesday awkwardly picked up a tiny teacup, her posture stiff and her expression one of reluctant resignation.

“She’s trying,” River said, appearing at your side with a knowing smile.

You smiled back, leaning into him slightly. “She is. She always does for the people she loves.”

The fireflies danced around the two of you as you stood together in the soft light of the evening. The world around you had changed so much over the years, but this place—this little patch of earth beneath the trees, lit by the gentle glow of flickering fireflies—had never changed.

Sixty years. It sounded so surreal, even to her. Time, a concept she had always viewed with apathy, now felt almost precious as it pressed upon her. It was a lifetime, and yet, standing here, it didn’t feel like enough.

You stepped closer, your hand outstretched.

“Dance with me,” you said softly, your voice carrying the warmth it always had.

Wednesday raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’ve never needed to ask twice.”

You laughed, the sound like a melody in her ears, and she allowed herself to be drawn into your arms. The fireflies seemed to gather around you both, their soft glow casting a warm halo over the two of you as you swayed together.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the night.

Wednesday’s gaze flickered, and she tightened her hold on you, almost as if she feared you might disappear. “I thought I was supposed to be the one saying that.”

You smiled, your fingers lightly brushing her jaw. “Your beauty never scared me, Wednesday. Not your darkness, not your sharp edges. They were always a part of you, and I’ve loved every single piece of who you are.”

The fireflies flickered around you like they were listening, like they understood the depth of what you were saying. You felt the familiar ache in your chest, not the physical one you’d lived with for so long, but the ache of love so profound it bordered on pain.

“This is our forever,” you said softly, your voice carrying the certainty of a vow. “This place, this moment. I will always be here with you, Wednesday. Always.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she said nothing. Her eyes searched yours, as if committing every detail of your face to memory. Then she leaned her forehead against yours,

Your fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness. “Do you remember the promise I made you, right here? To spend forever with you?”

Wednesday nodded, her hands trembling slightly where they rested on your waist. “Of course I remember. You told me we’d have forever, no matter what.”

You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself. “I meant that promise, Weds. But I think… I think my forever might not look the way we wanted it to. Physically, I might not...” Your voice cracked, and you had to pause, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I might not be here forever. But I’ll always be with you. In your heart, in your memories, in your heartbeat.”

Her hold on you tightened, and she shook her head, her jaw clenching as she fought back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “Don’t say that. Not tonight. Not here.”

“I have to,” you said gently, your fingers brushing her cheek. “Because I need you to know that even when I’m not here, I’m still with you. You’re my home, Wednesday. You’re everything.”

Her breath hitched, and she pressed her lips to yours, the kiss filled with a desperation that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. It was slow, lingering, as if she could pour every word she couldn’t say into that single act. When she pulled back, her eyes glistened, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You can’t leave me,” she said, her vulnerability laid bare. “You promised me forever.”

“And I’ll keep that promise,” you replied, your own tears falling freely now. “I’ll keep it in every way that matters. Because love like ours doesn’t end, Weds. It doesn’t disappear." Your hand moved to her chest, resting over her heart. “It will be right here. In your heart, in your heartbeat. Forever. Just keep it there, as long as you can.”

And she had been keeping it there, that's why she was here now, again.

The fireflies still danced, their soft, flickering glow illuminating the darkened grove where time seemed to stand still. Wednesday stood in the center of it all, the same place she had so often shared with you, the very spot where you had made promises of forever. The trees, the earth beneath her boots, the quiet hum of nature—it was all unchanged. And yet, everything was different.

You weren’t there.

The stillness pressed down on her like a weight, suffocating her. Her dark eyes scanned the clearing, hoping—futilely, she knew—for a glimpse of you. Her fingers twitched at her sides, wanting to reach out, to hold you again, but there was nothing to grasp... nothing but the emptiness.

A sudden movement caught her eye, and she turned her head to see a single blue butterfly, far from the nest she had once made Eugene set here decades ago, just for you.

The butterfly hovered for a moment before drifting closer, circling her as if it recognized her presence.

And then it landed on her hand that was still clenched tightly beside her, as if taking her hand....

She stared at the butterfly, her heart hammering in her chest. And she felt it, She felt you.

Her anger had once consumed her, your touch had calmed that...

One look from your eyes had broken her walls...

Your secrets became her emotions, her vulnerability.

And your absence became her weakness, her pain.

Your diary became her promise.

Your light guided her shadow, she offered you the warmth of her cold hands in return...

But it had been enough for you, hadn’t it? Enough for you, idiot. Her idiot.

You became her hope, her star.

You had called her your rose, but you were her rose. Beautiful, resilient, defiant against the odds, against her.

And made her go against everything she believed in.

You became her life, and your heart....

You heart had become hers.

Her fingers curled slightly, careful not to disturb the creature. She thought of you then, as she always did. Of your smile and the way it had softened the edges of her life. Of your voice, steady and kind, weaving words of comfort and love into the fabric of her existence. Of the way your hands had felt in hers—warm, firm, grounding her in a way she hadn’t known she needed.

The butterfly took off, its wings a blur as it joined the fireflies in their ceaseless dance. She didn’t move for a long time, her dark eyes following the butterfly as it disappeared into the night.

She could feel you here. She had always been able to feel you here. Even now, when the world had tried to convince her you were gone, this place remained untouched by that reality.

The fireflies continued their dance, but now, surrounding something invisible.

And yet, she could see it.

You and her, just you and her.

As you had been all those years ago. Young, hopeful, lost in each other’s arms as you swayed to music only the two of you could hear. She could see the way you smiled at her, the way her hands rested on your waist while yours settled on her shoulders. She could feel it too, the warmth of your touch. And she could feel it, she would always feel it, you made her feel it.

Her heartbeat.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is it, We did it, This is the end of this journey. Writing this has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and I hope reading it has been the same for you.

When I started this, my main objective was to make it angsty, without making it angsty lol, none of this would have been possible without you. Your comments, your reaction, your love, all these got me hooked to writing.

To all those, who had been here from the start, to all those, who joined in the middle, and to all those who are still here, Thank you, it has been an honor.

Don't forget to tell me your favorite part of this chapter down below!! While this story has ended, I will still write requested one-shots/prompts set in this universe, whatever you guys suggest!! So you can comment that below too! ]

Taglist: @ognenniyvolk @mally-ka @protozoario @machyishere @freakshow2501 @101rizzlrr @wifeofwandamaximoff

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blackwolfstabs · 1 year ago

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Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine.

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in.

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you.

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!�� you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in.

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand.

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level.

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.”

She shifted skeptically.

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic.

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…”

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled.

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin.

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin.

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

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xxmarziexx · 1 year ago

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》ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɪss《

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

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Song: Last Kiss (Taylor's Version) – Taylor Swift Summary: In the fight against Joseph Crackstone and in addition Laurel Gates, R gets injured. Wednesday and R technically go on a date. Warnings: Blood, Death, Fluff (technically), Grave Digging Requested by: Myself 🖤 Words: 5.4k

»──── ◦•✗•◦────«

Wednesday had placed herself in front of the arrow being sent back in Xavier’s direction. She braced herself for the impact, hearing the sound clearly, a gasp as the arrow embedded itself into flesh, but she didn’t feel an ounce of pain. She watched almost as if in slow motion as you were sent tumbling towards the ground, the arrow now protruding from your shoulder.

“Y/N!” She didn’t even hesitate as she quickly kneeled beside you, dropping her sabre in the process. She was confused about why you were there to begin with, you were meant to be with Thing and Enid, taking care of the Hyde. She should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t listen to her instructions, you never did.

You gasped for air as you glanced at the arrow lodged in your shoulder, before tilting your head up to look towards Wednesday, feeling a little delirious, Xavier appearing right beside her. Her hand reached out to stroke the fresh claw marks that were on the side of your face, blood dripping from them, before trailing down towards the arrow. You grabbed her hand before it could make contact with it, giving her hand a squeeze as you winced in pain. “Please go. I’ll be okay, Xavier’s right here.”

Wednesday gave the boy a sideways glance, conflicted at that moment, wanting to be the one you leaned on, the one who helped you. She settled her dark eyes back to you who was lying on the ground, before pausing only a moment, a mean glare taking over her features as her eyes settled onto Xavier, “If she dies, I will kill you.” With a sound of panicked agreement, he was already dragging you up off the ground, Wednesday grabbing hold of her sabre, her eyes meeting yours one last time before beginning her sword dance with that of Joseph Crackstone.

While Wednesday was amid her duel you took this time to glance at Xavier, and then at the abundance of frightened students who hadn’t escaped the area yet. You gathered your strength enough to lean yourself onto a nearby pillar, making sure to keep away from the flames that seemed to surround the proximity of what used to be the courtyard. You met Xavier's worried gaze, “You need to go. Get them out of here. I’ll be fine, I won’t die from one stupid arrow, you know I’m stronger than that.”

“But Wednesday…” You could see the conflict in his eyes, as he stared around the courtyard also, his eyes settling onto Wednesday, before returning to you.

You smiled softly, “She’ll understand,” you gulped, “Just go”.

He seemed reluctant to go, not wanting to risk the chance of you dying, so he glanced towards Wednesday who was still fighting, then towards you who was leaning against the pillar in obvious pain, holding the wound with the arrow still protruding from it. But you didn’t let it deter you as you gave him a false smile of reassurance; one you knew was too good to be true. But there was no time left, so he did the one thing he knew he could, “I’ll come back for you, you have my word” You watched as he left to go help the other students.

You slid down the pillar, looking down towards the arrow before using both your hands to rip as much of the wooden shaft as you possibly could without opening the wound too much or causing more damage than there had been already. With part of the arrow in your left hand, you placed your right hand onto the wound before throwing the broken piece of the arrow to the side.

Your gaze placed itself back onto Wednesday, your eyes widening in disbelief, a shout begging to leave your lips as you watched the blade of her sabre shatter against his staff. Your hand left your wound in a quick succession as you placed your hands on the ground wanting to protect her, wanting to get up and sacrifice yourself for her, but you were too weak.

You watched helplessly as magic pushed her against the broken wooden table in the burning courtyard. You cried out, fear enveloping your senses as he prepared to give the final blow that would end her life. You slid yourself slowly back up against the pillar, using it as support as you made a move to stand up, blood still dripping from your wounds. You made it only a few steps before your legs buckled out from under you, your knees meeting the ground, as rocks and dirt dug into your skin. You grunted in pain, about to force yourself up again before Bianca decided to make her appearance known.

She materialised behind Crackstone, before striking the sabre within her grasp through his chest, it was at that instant, that her whole body was knocked back causing her to hit the ground hard. But it was all the distraction Wednesday had needed, as she picked up the blade of her broken sword, impaling it into his undead heart as soon as he had made a move to turn around.

You witnessed as his entire body burst into flames, sending out a shockwave that seemed to knock you backwards into the pillar you had originally been against a grunt of pain leaving your lips, before leaving a multitude of embers in his place. The ravenette made eye contact with Bianca, giving the siren a nod of acknowledgment before running to your side. She didn’t think twice before grabbing a hold of you, taking you into her surprisingly warm embrace.

You took a moment, the affection being completely foreign to you. Wednesday wasn’t one for physical contact and you knew that, but you did the only thing you thought of, not knowing when the next time you would receive an embrace from her would be. So, you held her as tight as you could, wincing slightly when you felt the pain in your shoulder.

She pulled back, grabbing a gentle hold on your shoulder as she inspected you for any injuries, she then proceeded to stroke the claw marks on the side of your face, ones she knew would most definitely scar. Her unblinking eyes, took every inch of you in before her usually blank expression morphed into one of slight anger, “Are you an idiot?” she gritted her teeth, “Why would you follow me? I thought I told you to stay with—"

You didn’t let her finish that sentence, as your lips captured hers. Her once tense body seemed to calm down at the action as her lips began moving in sync with yours. You felt it as she cupped the back of your neck, being careful with your shoulder as she tried pulling you closer.

She didn’t seem to care that she was getting your blood on her own cheek, she didn’t care that some of your blood was staining her hands as she took control and pulled you deeper into the kiss. It was the type of kiss you wish you could capture forever, one you hope would last an eternity, because you never wanted to part from her lips, so soft, so warm, so full of ecstasy.

But you knew you both had to come up for air at some stage and so you waited until you were on the verge of passing out as if holding your breath underwater. You gasped as you came up to the surface, taking in shaky breaths of air, Wednesday doing the same.

You couldn’t help but give a pained grin as her forehead lay against yours, the both of you breathing heavily. Her finger glided softly against the claw marks, your hand reaching up to clasp hers, stilling her movement as you placed her hand against your lips, giving it a tender kiss. You felt like you were dreaming in this moment, maybe it was the blood loss that was making you delirious, but you felt like Wednesday could disappear on you any second, and you didn’t want that.

You gave shaky breaths as you listened to the cackle of the fire that still enveloped the courtyard, not taking your eyes off Wednesday. “Is it wrong of me to assume that you reciprocate my feelings?”

Wednesday seemed to blink at that, your eyes staying locked onto each other, “It would be stupid of you to assume otherwise,” She rolled her eyes, as you began grinning like a complete idiot. “Don’t be so smug about it.” She felt like she had lost a game against you at this moment, and for some strange reason, she didn’t hate it.

“How can I not?” You smiled bigger, paying no mind to the pain on your cheek. “THE Wednesday Addams likes me back.” You gave a small chuckle, “It’s a miracle.”

Her lips twitched as she observed you, “The only miracle I see is how you’re still alive right now,” her lips curled into what looked like a scowl, “Which reminds me, I’m going to kill that imbecile.”

“Who? Xavier? Or Tyler?” You tilted your head slightly in confusion.

Wednesday glared, “Both.”

You chuckled softly as you reached your uninjured arm out, using your hand to trail your fingers along her cheek, along the mass of blood that didn't appear to be her own. She shivered at the touch, her eyes closing subconsciously, "You can do that later," You smiled, loving the warmth that seemed to emit from her, "I just want you here with me."

Wednesday leaned closer at that as if she were hypnotised by the very being that was you. She was distracted, it was a feeling she had never known she could feel. She couldn’t understand how you had the ability to control her as if you were a siren and your song was her weakness. She knew you weren’t a siren, it was glaringly obvious the first day she met you, as you had made a black dahlia materialise within your grasp and offered it to her as if it were the simplest thing, you had ever done.

It was the same black dahlia that Wednesday had forced Thing to make into a bookmark. A bookmark she only used when it came to her favourite novels. A bookmark she seemed to treasure as if her life depended on it. She had a suspicion you knew about it, considering the number of times she had seen your cheeks heat up whenever it had caught your eye.

Wednesday watched as you smiled at her as if she held your heart in the palm of her hands, something so delicate, so precious and you seemed to trust her with it. Her lips seemed to twitch as her hand stroked the claw marks on your face, the wound only seeming to enhance your beauty even more in her eyes. She hated the fact that you could so easily have spiders crawling through her insides, that you could so easily worry her. It wasn’t a feeling that Wednesday could ever get used to.

So, as you leaned closer, ready to capture her lips into another kiss, she let you. Instead of pushing you away, she pulled you closer, gentle enough not to cause you any harm, but you already felt numb to the touch. The kiss masked the pain you felt on your skin, her touch only lighting the burning feeling inside of you because all you could focus on was her lips and her skin against yours. You kept smiling into the kiss, your smile only growing bigger as you pulled away again.

It didn’t last long though, as you both missed the ‘click’ until a shot rang out, ringing in your ears. You didn’t feel it at first as you gasped, but Wednesday's face as it slowly changed into one of panic was all you needed to know what was happening. Wednesday seemed to cover the wound on your chest with her hands, as blood began seeping from your mouth, your hand grasping onto the lapels of Wednesday's blazer.

The ‘click’ sounded again Wednesday took notice this time as she saw Laurel Gates behind you with a semi-automatic pistol in her grasp, a sinister smile on her face, as she now pointed the gun on Wednesday, “I may not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I’ll get to kill someone you seem to care about Wednesday.” She chuckled darkly, “To think it was this easy.”

Your hold on Wednesday’s blazer slackened, her glare directed at Laurel as her shaky hands kept the pressure on your wound. You were feeling light-headed, not knowing whether the buzzing sound was coming from your own delirious mind, or if it was actually happening. You flinched at the sound of multiple gunshots, the sound of Laurel's screams, the burning sensation in your chest and the hands that seemed to be held to your wound being the only thing you could focus on, besides the taste of blood on your tongue.

You sat there, leaning against a pillar in the burning courtyard your head slightly downcast, with only Wednesday in your sight. She seemed to be yelling at someone, calling for someone. You couldn’t understand a word she was saying as Bianca seemed to take her place, the siren’s jacket now being held to your chest, staining it with your blood.

You felt arms wrap around you, as you seemed to be lifted off the ground, your eyes closing, the pressure on your chest not loosening in the slightest.

Wednesday lifted her head as she came back to her senses, her black shoes having just caved Laurel's skull in. She was breathing heavily as she turned back to where Bianca had started lifting you in an attempt to get you out of there. Not willing to risk the possibility of you burning to death seeing as the flames seemed to be spreading.

The ravenette followed Bianca, remaining close to you the entire way as you lay limp in the siren’s arms. She didn’t want to freak out, your breaths growing shallower by the second as they walked towards the front gates of Nevermore.

Wednesday couldn’t think of anything, she felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating when Enid had embraced her. The only thing on her mind right now was you, and whether you would be okay or not. Her eyes seemed to blur, she didn’t know whether from fatigue or tears. She made eye contact with your limp form that was now on the ground, Bianca seemingly frantic but Wednesday couldn’t hear a thing, her body meeting the ground as her vision seemed to fade to black.

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Wednesday clutched the side of her head, as she felt the black sheets under her skin. Her vision blurred as she opened her eyes slowly, squinting as a figure materialised before her. It seemed to be nighttime as she glanced at her dorm window, the only light shining through coming from the moon above. She could sense you before you came into focus, smiling down at her with your arm in a sling. She was relieved.

Her lips twitched as she observed you, your hand reaching out to stroke one of her braids, “I’m glad that you’re still alive, Wednesday.” You smiled softly, she could see the scarring from where she lay, the claw marks on your cheek having been stitched up, her fingers twitching to trail along the sensitive skin.

So instead of hesitating she acted, trailing her fingers slowly down the course of your scarring flesh with the gentlest of touches. She observed as you shivered, falling into the warmth that was her hand, a smile of contentment a permanent expression on your face. “I thought—” Wednesday gulped as she took a shaky breath, “I was afraid that you were…”

“I’m right here,” you smiled softly at the ravenette.

Wednesday allowed a small reluctant smile to free from her lips, not being able to hold it back as she watched you. As she felt you, the warmth of your skin, the shiver from her touch. You used your free hand to grab hers, pulling it towards your lips as you gave it a gentle kiss. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

She observed you closely, as you nervously let go of her hand to scratch the back of your neck, a habit that she had grown accustomed to from the moment she had met you. She watched as you began fiddling with your tie, not understanding why you would be wearing your uniform so late at night, but her lips twitched as she noticed its usual wrinkled state, your dress shirt remaining untucked from your pants. But she didn’t question it as she reached over to wrap her pinkie around yours, stopping your movement altogether.

You took a deep breath, “I know it’s late and you just got out of a small coma but—” you gulped, “Would you still be willing to go on a date with me?”

Wednesday tortured you for a moment, remaining silent as you tightened your pinkie around hers. Her face remained passive as she just stared at you, she wanted to know how serious you were. She gouged for your reaction a moment longer, letting you squirm in your nerves before smirking, “That could be arranged.”

You chuckled nervously her dark eyes trailing towards your sling, your eyes seeming to follow, “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

Wednesday didn’t want to think about it, the way the arrow had embedded itself into your shoulder, the way the gunshot had almost had her witnessing your death right before her eyes. She didn’t want to think about how close she was to losing you. So, she looked away, meeting your eyes in the process, “How long was I out for?”

You looked away for a moment clearing your throat, “So about that date?”

The ravenette glared at you, “Y/N,” she gritted out, “answer the question.”

You winced, “One week.” Wednesday's eyes widened slightly as they observed you, blinking a few times before going back to her usual unblinking stare. “Everyone was worried, your mother informed them that you were fine and that you would wake up soon.”

Wednesday paused for a moment, “I’m more surprised that you’re awake before me, considering the injuries you received that night.”

You chuckled softly, your smile not seeming to reach your eyes as you observed the ravenette. “How about that date?” You squeezed her pinkie affectionately.

»────◦•✗•◦────«

The wolves were howling as you both made your way into the darkened cemetery, the rusty gate opening with a squeak. You spun with a smile, walking backwards as Wednesday carried the shovels, observing each plot, trying to decide which grave seemed the most intriguing.

It was a full moon on this very night, the light of the moon illuminating against your skin as Wednesday seemed to follow you. She observed you for a moment, her lips twitching at how beautiful you looked. The way you seemed free at this moment. She blinked once before going back to examining the different gravestones.

Wednesday was about to continue before one in particular caught her eye. It seemed so fresh, though the green grass that seemed to cascade around it, and the flowers that seemed to have grown made it look like it had been there for years. Wednesday didn’t know who had been laid to rest there, but it intrigued her, to say the least as if a string were tugging her towards it.

She carefully placed her shovels down, feeling your presence behind her, a chill going down her spine as she carefully ran her fingers down the gravestone. “Are you sure?” Your voice broke her out of her trance, as she looked back towards you. She couldn’t see the name on the gravestone, the name covered by a thick layer of moss. But Wednesday was intrigued, so she nodded in reply before getting up and grabbing one of the shovels.

She seemed to be in her element as she dug, the moonlight reflecting off her pale skin, making her look more ghostlike than anything. But to you, she looked ethereal, like a fallen angel who had been cast out of heaven. “Thank you.”

You shook out of your trance, “For what?”

Wednesday gave a small smile, “Bringing me here,”

You seemed to chuckle softly, although your smile never reached your eyes, “How could I not on a night like this?” you gave her a soft smile as you stared up at the moon before meeting her eyes once again, “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

Wednesday reciprocated your action, observing the moon herself before looking back down, at the way the moon lit your skin, “I suppose it is.” She kept digging after that, looking over at you every so often to make sure you were still there, hoping that you’d never disappear. That you’d stay with her for all of eternity.

“Wednesday…” The voice hadn’t been yours that time, but it was familiar all the same. Wednesday stilled her digging as she made eye contact with the newcomer.

“What brings you here, Mother?” Wednesday stared at her.

“It appeared you were no longer in your bed,” Morticia didn’t move from where she stood, her gothic clothing blending her into the night. “I had a feeling you would be here.”

Wednesday huffed at her mother, dirt covering her own features, “As you can clearly see, I am quite busy right now.” She motioned towards the shovel, rolling her eyes as she went back to her task, “So if you would not so kindly leave, it would be appreciated.”

Morticia didn’t move from her spot, “Wednesday…” her voice unnaturally shook, “This won’t bring her back.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth as she stared at her mother’s unusually soft eyes, “What are you talking about?” she could feel it deep down, as her heart seemed to tighten.

Morticia took a step forward as she met her daughter's eyes, “You know as well as I do that she’s gone Wednesday.”

The ravenette paused, her tone weaker than the last, “Who are you talking about?”

The older Addams took a deep breath as she looked at her daughter, sorrow flashing across her eyes, a frown etched on her unnaturally beautiful face, “Y/N”.

Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed, “That's utterly impossible,” her voice slightly shaky “She’s right here” Wednesday motioned towards you, as she reached out to grab your hand. Her throat seemed to tighten as her hand passed through, capturing nothing but air in its midst.

“Her family wanted to hold the funeral right away,” Morticia closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again.

Wednesday's hands shook as she tried again but failed to grab your hand, “She can’t be…” Her voice shook, “She’s not…” She saw your clothes, the way they were unkempt like they always had been, closing her eyes for only a moment, before opening them back up. She saw it then, the way your uniform was tattered, the head of the arrow still in your shoulder, the gunshot wound in your chest still visible and the claw marks on your cheek still an open wound. But above all, she saw the sad smile you gave her as all the things she had blocked away seemed to hit her.

She stayed there for a moment, just staring at you, her chest burning, her heart feeling like it was being strangled to its limit. She clenched her fists as she turned around, her vision blurring, the gravestone so obviously in front of her from where she stood as she slowly with a shaky hand began to wipe off the moss.

Her breaths became shallower as the name under it became clearer, the name becoming visible to her for the first time. Her fingers were shaky as they traced the name under the moss, ‘Y/N L/N’ She hoped she’d wake up at any moment, that maybe she was still in a coma. Maybe she had dreamt everything up until this moment. Maybe when she woke up, you’d still be alive in the dorm room you had filled with flowers, the dorm room that she had been to many times before, just because you had the ability to tug at her heartstrings with just a smile.

She had uncharacteristically loved the fact that you were a free spirit, that you made her flowers anytime you thought she was upset. How you would stay with her in comfortable silence whenever she had writing time. She didn’t want to believe for even a moment that she would never get those moments again.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that she would never hear your laughter again, that you would never be there to hear her play the Cello. She didn’t want to believe that she would never receive your precious flowers again or be able to witness the blinding smile that overtook your face whenever she accepted them.

Wednesday slowly and shakily climbed out of the ditch she had created, as she moved slowly closer to you. You looked so real, so perfect under the moonlight, but as she tried one last time to grab a hold of you, she couldn’t. It was the one thing she wanted more than anything, the touch of your skin and she couldn’t have it.

Morticia moved forward towards her daughter, wanting more than anything to embrace her, not being able to stand the clear heartbreak on her face as her mind was still battling with her reality.

Wednesday looked past you as Goody materialised out of thin air, walking up from behind you. “Goody,” the ravenette’s voice shook, Goody’s expression solemn as if she were here to take you away. “Please. Bring her back.”

“You know I can’t,” Goody smiled sadly, “I could only save you that night, with what little power I had left.”

Wednesday shook her head as her voice seemed to crack, “Then why are you here?”

Goody placed a hand on your shoulder as she stepped forward, “It’s time.”

The ravenette took a shaky breath, “Please…” her chest burned as her throat closed up more, “Don’t take her.��

Goody didn’t respond as you stepped forward away from the hand on your shoulder, causing it to drop. Your hand reached out as Wednesday watched you, tears brimming her eyes but not releasing. You did the only thing you could think of in the moment, as you made a black dahlia materialise into thin air. Wednesday felt a hand on her shoulder as Morticia appeared beside her.

The ravenette’s hand closed around the stem of the flower, as she stared at it, “Please don’t go.” The tears she had tried so hard to hold back finally fell when her eyes connected with yours. “Please just stay.” She had promised herself she would never cry, ever since her pet scorpion ‘Nero’ had been murdered, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore as her heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. “Please don’t leave me…”

You gave a sad smile as your cold lips ever so slowly made contact with hers. She stayed right where she was, afraid that if she moved the illusion would break, the illusion that she could feel your lips against hers, the illusion that you were still here, with her. She could almost believe she could still feel the beat of your heart. She didn’t want to break out of it, the tears falling freely as she hoped this moment would never end. She didn’t want you to be gone, she didn’t want you to leave her side, but she knew that was too good to be true.

She held the flower in her hand tight as you detached from her, you mouthed your final words, Goody’s hand latching onto your shoulder as you both seemed to disappear. Wednesday watched as the flower petals got left in your wake, staring blankly at the spot you used to be, playing over and over in her head the final words of ‘I love you’ that had left your lips.

Tears fell down Wednesday's face, her fist clenching around the flower in her hand. The sky let out a rumble as droplets of rain began to fall, mixing into the tears as the ravenette didn’t seem to move from her spot. She looked down at the black dahlia in her hand for almost an eternity, before resolving herself as she jumped back down into the ditch, not even paying attention to the mud that had begun to soften the dirt below. She grabbed hold of her shovel as she began digging, she felt someone drop beside her as they too began to dig, her eyes meeting her own mother's.

Her shovel seemed to hit something, as she bent down getting rid of all the mud that covered the casket. Her hands trailed its simple design. Morticia climbed out at that moment, Wednesday beginning to open the casket, the flower still grasped in her hand.

She didn’t know what to expect, as you were revealed. Your skin was so pale, yet for some reason, you looked almost like you were sleeping. She hated fairytales to the bone, but at this moment, she wished you were snow white, wished maybe you were sleeping beauty so that when her lips touched yours maybe it would break the curse and you would live happily ever after. But she knew it wasn’t how death worked, as he had claimed your life that night a week ago.

The rain dripped on your face, your pale skin seeming to shine like crystals under the moonlight. She took a shaky breath, kneeling towards you, her hand reaching out slowly to stroke your scarred cheek ever so softly. The flower in her hand disappeared from her grasp as she slowly placed the black dahlia in between your clasped hands, making you seem more ethereal in your eternal slumber than you already were.

There was no smile on your face, just a look of peace as you lay to rest, your heart remaining completely and utterly still. Wednesday stood a moment to admire you before shakily closing the casket back up. She took her time as she slowly covered it back up with dirt and soil, watching in slow motion as the grass and flowers covered the ground back up as she shovelled the final layer of dirt on top. The rain continued to fall, as she knelt stroking your name on your gravestone with all that she felt for you. She felt Morticia’s hand on her shoulder as the ravenette whispered the words she had wished she had been able to tell you, the words ‘I love you’ leaving her lips.

Maybe this was the curse, loving someone for all of eternity only for them to be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. Because Wednesday knew without a doubt that she would never love another, that you were her one and only and that she for once in her life, hoped that one day she would find her way back to you. That once she took her final breath, you would be there to greet her from the other side.

Wednesday seemed to ignore everyone as she sat on her balcony, looking up at the bright moon as the rain continued to fall. She didn’t have her cello with her as she sat there, staring up at the night sky, wearing your favourite jacket, one that was all too big for her, but she didn’t mind, as she revelled in the lingering scent of you.

She held the bookmark against her shattered heart, the one that reminded her of the first day she met you, as she trailed her free hand against her lips, still feeling the cold traces of their last kiss. Your name forever the name on her lips.

»────◦•✗•◦────«

Jamie Speaks:

Hahaha... Honestly, someone should take my writing privileges away from me.

How does one even write a sad fic?

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