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toournextadventure · 9 months ago

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when you love it

Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl

Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader (part 2)

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”

Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.

His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.

The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.

It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.

“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.

His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”

You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”

The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.

If he called again, your rates would double.

“You did your job masterfully.”

You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.

Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.

“Looking for someone in particular?”

No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.

“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.

“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

A wet gasp-

-a snarl-

-relief-

-pain-

“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”

“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.

A breathy moan-

-airy laughter-

-a warm sigh-

“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”

“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”

You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.

There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.

Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.

Just like his older sister.

“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.

“A coffee then,” you amended.

He had no objections.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.

“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.

You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.

His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.

“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.

“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”

“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.

Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”

You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.

So were you.

You promptly ignored the thought.

“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.

“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”

“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”

“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”

You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.

It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.

And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.

The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.

You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.

There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.

On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.

Perhaps…

“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.

Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.

“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”

—---

You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.

It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.

And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.

The balcony door slid open.

“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.

It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.

“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”

You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.

The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.

You were pathetic.

You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.

If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.

They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.

It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.

You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.

Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.

It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.

You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.

While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.

The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.

After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.

Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.

You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.

Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.

“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.

“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”

“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.

If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.

“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”

Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.

“Are you a vampire?”

You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.

“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”

“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”

You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”

Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.

“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.

You wished they would leave.

“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”

You would have no shame in killing a child.

“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”

“Don’t harass the guests, dear.”

Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.

But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.

“We weren’t sure you would come.”

You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.

“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.

Growls and screaming echoed in your mind’s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.

The scars you had caused.

“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.

She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.

“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”

“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”

You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”

She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.

“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”

“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”

Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”

Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?

Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.

You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.

“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”

The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.

But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.

Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.

“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”

Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”

Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.

Wednesday!

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.

“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.

For the first time, you were thankful for children.

“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”

The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.

“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.

Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.

“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.

It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.

“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.

It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.

“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”

You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.

“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”

“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.

She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.

“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”

And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.

“You could stay,” Enid said.

“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.

You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.

They were your home.

“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.

You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.

The scars reminded you of it every day.

“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.

Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.

When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.

How comical.

They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.

You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.

“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”

Think of something less ridiculous.

“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.

“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.

“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”

“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.

You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.

“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”

You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.

And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.

Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.

“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.

“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.

You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.

But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.

Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-

-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.

You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.

Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.

You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.

That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.

As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.

So did the pain.

You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.

It was lovely.

“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.

You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.

They looked at you expectantly.

For when is a monster not a monster?

You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.

Oh, when you love it.

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #wednesday x enid

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whatwouldsylwrite · 2 years ago

Text

At least I got you in my head (2)

(1)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: drinking, swearing, reader is wearing a dress. Cait here is Caitlyn from Arcane. Abby gets to feel what is was like to be a victorian man.

tags: @abbyily @catkirkfan @oatmealzco

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Everyone could appreciate someone’s beauty, right? Right?

That was what Abby was thinking as you two were making your way down the street to the bars where Ellie and Cait were supposed to meet you. Your delicate heels were clicking on the pavement and well. This little strap around your ankles made them look so dainty and it was so aesthetically pleasing Abby didn’t want to look away every time you sped up a little. You were in a short black dress and wow, some girls could really pull off a dress - it was so tight around your body. Abby wouldn’t wear something like this ever, it was so not her style, but when she saw other girls in dresses? She just couldn’t help but admire how beautiful they were. And when the beauty met the intelligence - Abby was full-on fangirling. She always thought it was vain of her to want to be friends with women who were practically goddesses (except Ellie, Ellie was a gremlin even if she was smart), but fuck. Wasn’t it cool to know women who were just smart and beautiful and then boast about knowing them to everyone?

“I’m a little excited to meet Ellie.” You admitted, you eyes a little more bright after you shared some wine at home. “You told me so much about her, she is a legend in my head.”

“Ellie is a menace and a threat to society.” Abby sighed dramatically.

“Exactly. How can you describe her like this to me and not expect me to get insanely curious?” You smirked and almost tripped, but Abby caught you, holding your arm gently. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Just hold on to me.” Abby offered you her arm and you stared at her, surprised, before snaking your arm around her. Abby liked the feeling of protectiveness when her friends relied on her like that. Yeah, she was an MMA fighter, she could protect them against any asshole, and she liked when girls felt safe around her, so she walked you down the street as carefully as possible.

You made your way to the bar, and you let Abby go in the instant when you saw your friend, but there were so many people Abby couldn’t see who exactly was your friend.

“Cait is right there, I’m going to grab her. Do you see Ellie?” Abby looked around and spotted the familiar bun.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s meet here, okay?” You said and walked away, leaving Abby to get Ellie.

Abby made her way through a few people before she got to Ellie and grabbed her shoulder.

“The fuck-” Ellie started, ready to fight, but she relaxed when she saw Abby. “Fuck, Abby, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I really like that you think you can fight.” Abby laughed and Ellie punched her in the shoulder.

“I swear to god I’m gonna beat your ass one day.” Ellie looked around, expecting you to be somewhere close. “I thought (y/n) is with you?”

“Yeah, she went to meet her friend. Let’s go. Don’t be a dick.”

“Dude, I won’t. Is she hot?”

“What is up with you lesbians asking about each other?” Abby scoffed.

“Oh, she asked if I was hot?”

“I said you were so ugly she’d go blind.” Abby said with a small smile and caught Ellie’s hand before it hit her again.

They made their way to the spot when you agreed to meet and Abby saw you with your friend and she just forgot how to speak. The girl was tall - taller than Abby, and it was saying something - but she was so proportionate in her hourglass figure. Abby looked at her, bewitched - she looked like a model. Legs for fucking days, long raven hair, and listen, Abby didn’t have any insecurities about her own body, but this girl’s chest was truly impressive. She was missing something, though - your confidence and ease, the girl looked a little awkward and nervous, but it seemed like your presence was grounding her. God you were so fucking nice.

"Hi!" You said with a smile and motioned at your friend. "This is Caitlyn. This is Abby."

"Nice to meet you." Abby smiled and Caitlyn smiled in return with an adorable gap in her teeth. "This is Ellie."

Something was not entirely right, because when Ellie and you made eye contact you both froze. Abby noticed it even though you recovered quite fast, and something uneasy sat in her stomach.

"I'm (y/n)." You smiled and Ellie smiled back like you both were sharing a secret, and Abby hated how it made her feel like a fool. "Okay ladies. We all need a drink, don't you think?"

You made your way to a free table in the corner of the bar, feeling your hands shake, and you tried to not show it, but you felt both stares at your back: Cait’s, who probably put two and two together, and Abby’s, who probably didn’t. For some reason you felt guilty, even though you didn’t do anything - well, except you slept with your roommate’s best friend. Roommate you were trying so hard not to crush on. Roommate who was straight (you know. usual gay shenanigans). And it happened months ago, way before you met Abby, you had no reason to feel ashamed, but you still did.

So you repressed the feeling to the pits of your consciousness and did what you did best: got a drink and started talking to get everyone to know each other and relax. You were mostly worried about Caitlyn - she wasn’t a big party-goer, and meeting people wasn’t easy for her. Well, thankfully, Abby and Ellie were very enthusiastic and Cait relaxed pretty quickly, letting her beautiful sarcasm make everyone laugh.

“You know we look like we’re on a double date.” Ellie snorted and you laughed, taking the comedy of the situation.

“This is a very fortunate support of stereotypes.” Cait said and you waited for her to say something else, because Cait just would. “Unless it was your attempt at flirting, of course. In this case I’m sure you can do better.”

The look of offense on Ellie’s face was precious. You laughed so hard you slapped Abby on her thigh, and she laughed too, you both wheezing and gasping for air every time you looked at Ellie’s face.

“I can do better.” Ellie said, flustered, and you couldn’t decide if she got defensive or eager to prove Cait wrong.

“I’d certainly like to see it.” Cait leaned on the table and you made a little “ooooh” sound while Abby laughed into your shoulder.

“Yeah, Els, I think Caitlyn is already kicking your ass here.” Abby said and you laughed again. Then Abby leaned in to you so she could whisper in your ear, her hot breath making your baby hairs stand up and your hands tingle. “Look at her, she is so riled up.” You both giggled and looked at Ellie again who was puffing but trying to come up with something to say.

“Oh, you don't know what you signed up for." Ellie said with a triumphant smile, and you got curious. You remembered Ellie as very confident and flirty, but she didn't seem to be like this right now.

"Surprise me." Cait smiled and you barely kept yourself from pinching her cheeks and saying "that's my girl", because you were so proud of her, coming out of her shell and being so forward.

"You know, the weather wasn't good today." Ellie said casually, not looking at Caitlyn. You and Abby watched what she was going to say next like it was a movie.

"I suppose."

"That's because all the blue from the sky is in your eyes." Ellie said in a quiet seductive tone as she looked into Caitlyn's eyes.

All three of you groaned and it looked like it only encouraged Ellie, because she grinned like a maniac.

"And I have more." Ellie threatened.

"She does." Abby whispered again and fuck, why did it feel so fucking intimate? Why did it feel like you were her-

No. You were not going this road. Nope.

"Well, I'm glad you're self-aware. It has some charm to it." Caitlyn smiled and Ellie looked happy from the compliment. "Give me your worst one."

"Oh I'll need a drink for this." You said as you stood up, losing the warmth of Abby's side to go to the bar.

The night went smoothly after. Ellie didn't leave Cait alone after that, saying a pickup line every chance she got, but Cait seemed to like it for the pure feeling of cringe. Eventually they both found out what kind of nerds they were and they had a long discussion about something you couldn't care to get into, because your head was a little fuzzy from alcohol and Abby being close. Her side was pressed to your side and you basked in her warmth. You were a touchy drunk, and even though you controlled yourself and didn't touch people without permission, the feeling of someone else close to you got you longing for human touch.

It was getting closer to 4 am and Abby noticed you getting more quiet and putting more weight on her. Abby leaned down to you, careful not to scare you.

“Are you sleepy?”

“Oh fuck.” You said as if Abby’s words revealed something obvious to you. “I am. I miss my bed.”

“You wanna go home?”Abby said fondly. She drank the same amount as you did, but the difference in metabolism meant she burned through her drinks faster and wasn't as drunk as you were, so she felt her mom friend mode kicking in.

“Yeah.” You nodded and looked at Ellie and Cait who were still talking like 4 hours passed in a second. “Ladies, we’re going to head out.”

“Already?” Ellie asked, surprised.

“I wanna go hug my bed.” You shrugged.

“Text us when you get home, okay?” Abby asked when you both stood up, ready to leave.

Both girls stood up too to hug you and say their goodbyes before you left the bar. Abby was still shocked at how tall Caitlyn was - it was rare for Abby to hug girls who weren’t a head shorter than her. And Cait was a head taller than her, so it was a very strange experience. Ellie and Caitlyn stayed, still talking, and you were glad Cait got along with her - she really needed some other friends and not more rich arrogant idiots Cait had before.

Abby supported you as you made your way back home, your legs a little wobbly, but Abby had to give it to you - you were wearing heels and you were walking just fine, even sleepy and a little drunk. You weren't tipsy, but you weren't wasted either - just in the middle where you still were in your right mind, but your body was starting to give up on your coordination. You held onto Abby's forearm and she just felt so fond of you.

"Do I speak funny?" You asked Abby and she laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Do I slur?"

"No. You're not that drunk."

Suddenly you snorted and Abby had to stop both of you before you'd fall.

"Fuck, you know that video? When the guy comes home wasted and he is like. I'm not drunk. And then his mother I guess, she is like. Can you tell the time?"

"God, your English accent is awful." Abby wheezed, already being entertained by your little reenactment.

"Fuck you. So this guy is like, …Yes. And then turns to the fucking clocks, points at them and goes. I am NOT. fucking. Drunk." You wheezed again, almost folding in two from laughter, because that video was 10 times funnier when you were drunk. "Have you seen it?"

Abby was laughing too, both at your terrible posh accent and the story.

"No."

"Oh man, wait. Stop. We're gonna watch it."

And now you two were standing at 4:30 in the morning in the middle of the street laughing your asses off at the stupid old video when it replayed again and again. Abby was worried at one point you'd just fall, but you stayed on your feet, even if your heels were not steady on every step, because the straps on your ankles were dangerously loose. (yep, she was still staring, but alcohol made her forget the reason why it was okay for a straight girl to stare at another girl's ankles)

Somehow you made your way home in 10 minutes and Abby made some tea for both of you while you were in the shower - it wouldn’t hurt to get some hydration before sleep. You came to the kitchen, your hair in a bun, your usual sweats plus an oversized t-shirt combo on, but Abby stared, her thought process coming to a screeching halt.

You mixed the t-shirts in the bathroom and put Abby’s t-shirt on. Abby’s mind was literally blank. She didn’t understand what she was feeling, but that feeling was so fucking strong she couldn’t even say a word as her eyes looked you over. Her t-shirt was big on you, shoulders way too low on your arms, and you looked so cosy and homely and cute and pretty-

"What's up?" You asked as you sat down on the chair, noticing Abby's stare.

"You- um. This is my t-shirt." Abby admitted, and her chest was so tight with The Feeling she was afraid her voice went two octaves higher. You looked down and then stared back at her, as surprised as she was.

"Oh god I'm so sorry, I didn't check. I'll go change." You stood up from your place, ready to go, but Abby stopped you.

"I don't mind, you can wear it, it's not a big deal." Abby shrugged. And it wasn't a big deal, it was just one of her many t-shirts, she didn't mind sharing. You were sobering up and probably tired as hell, Abby would prefer not to bother you.

"Really? My t-shirt is probably in the bathroom, I can change in a second."

"Keep it." Abby said and put a cup in front of you, strange feeling of possessiveness making it home in her vocal cords.

"Thanks. I'll wash it, I promise."

You both drank tea in a comfortable silence, watching the sun slowly go up. The city was quiet and empty, the morning wouldn't really start in another hour, and it felt intimate, to experience this empty morning with you.

You washed both of your cups while Abby went to take a shower. After Abby finished showering, she reached for her t-shirt on instinct, but the empty rack reminded her where her t-shirt was. Well, your t-shirt was still there and she needed to get dressed anyway. It would be only fair, right?

Abby took your t-shirt and put it over her head, her nose immediately being attacked with your scent: your spicy perfume, body wash and a slight hint of mint shampoo. You smelled nice, and your scent reminded Abby of the safety of your apartment: that was the first thing she smelled when she'd come home if you were already here. It was nice. Or sometimes you'd be out earlier and she'd smell your perfume in the hallway.

Abby walked to her room and fell on the bed, checking her social media. There were a few stories on Ellie's insta, and the last one was her and Cait drinking coffee and playing chess. Abby had no idea where they found the chess table, but hey, they were having fun. Abby liked when Ellie showed her true side instead of being cool and hot and a fuckboy, which worked amazingly when Ellie wanted to hook up, but sometimes she needed to get her nerd side shine or she'd infodump on a first available person.

There was a knock on the door and Abby looked up, meeting your eyes in the doorway. You looked a little apprehensive but also vulnerable, and Abby couldn't get a read on why you were here.

"Hey, um. Do you wanna cuddle to sleep with me?"

What.

Well what did she mean "what", she didn't need to overthink it! Her new favourite person wanted to cuddle!

Abby opened her arms, silently inviting you, practically buzzing with excitement: you wanted to cuddle with her and Abby was a sucker for cuddles, so of course she'd let you. You walked through her room carefully as if you weren't supposed to be here, but then you just fell on top of her, and wow, (y/n) is so fucking soft.

That was why Abby liked to cuddle with her girl friends: women were soft. And you were soft in her arms right now, letting a long pleased sigh.

"You're very soft." Abby said as she curled her arms around your shoulders.

"That's the boobs." You chuckled. "Yours are very soft too."

"Thanks, I guess?" Abby laughed when you put your head on her left tit.

"As long as you're okay with this." You murmured and went up a little, still finding a right position until you put your nose next to Abby's neck, sending shivers down her spine. She was ticklish, but she could manage. "Really. I don't want to do something you're not comfortable with."

"I'm so comfortable, don't worry. I like cuddles." Abby wasn't sure why you were so persistent in checking if she was okay with being physically close to you, but she thought it was very sweet. "I didn't think you were a cuddler."

"What? I told you before. When we watched that shitty horror movie."

"Oh, I thought you were joking." Abby murmured as she breathed your scent in. You felt so safe to her she was already drifting off.

"I wasn't. I like cuddles."

"That makes two of us."

You sighed again as you wiggled around, slotting yourself more comfortably against Abby and she started mindlessly stroking your back, soothing you into sleep. She was already half-asleep and she needed you to stop moving and just relax so you'd stop waking her up. When you didn't stop, Abby pressed you closer and moved you to what she thought would be more comfortable for both of you. You got quiet suddenly, and Abby sighed, content, falling asleep almost immediately, oblivious of your flustered face.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

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