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Perhaps it was the monotony of what they had developed. Chatter so droning it became background noise that filtered through one ear and out the other, only pivotal information retained. The constant, silent desire for quiet to focus on what her father called “essentials” in the planning for events such as these, perhaps. Her meticulous nature that demanded no interruption? She could not say exactly then, but now, standing a mere two feet outside her own front door, Wednesday came to the cold and sobering realization that a quiet Enid is cause for deep and immediate concern.
Dread, even.
Because, much like an unruly child or a pet that could not sit still to spare its pitiful life, if Enid Sinclair was quiet, too quiet, it was, ultimately, for one simple reason: she was hiding something.
And of all the days to hide something from her, she, of course, needed to chose the absolute worst day to do it.
A pounding headache drummed even harder behind her eyes, right at the base of her forehead, than it had earlier that day. Earlier that morning, even. Hell, this drumming soundtracked her daily happenings from the very moment they spoke of this event three weeks ago.
A dinner. A family dinner. With Enid as guest of honor.
Damn that worthless pump in her chest that cracked her resolve to stand her ground and deny the wolf’s request.
“Dinner with my family, regardless of the circumstances, is an experience you have already had. It transpires every evening in equal fashion. To attend another would be the definition of insanity”, she said, brown irises boring into blue from across the coffee table.
“Being trapped in your body doesn’t count! Plus, it’ll be the first time I’ll be attending as your girlfriend! It’ll make it official!”
“That is precisely what I seek to avoid.”
The pastel clad wolf seated just across the way slumped forward, chin perched on her folded arms, eyes trailing a drop of condensation racing down her cup. Leaving behind a trail of black marker as it smudged her name. Slender fingers reached for her straw, lazily sloshing the whipped cream and caramel. Her hand dropped.
“Are you ashamed of me?” Rapid blinks. Enid tried to ignore the burning in her nose when their eyes met.
A tense of the jaw. A twitch of her lip. Wednesday sighs as she always does when her bite draws Enid’s blood.
“The susceptibility to blackmail is for the insecure. No one could hold what I feel for you against me.”
“You know they wouldn’t do that.”
“To officiate this relation would be to subject both you and myself to their myriad of inquires and ceaseless peanut gallery commentary.”
Enid’s gaze dropped from Wednesday’s and drifts to something invisible in the distance.
“Parents being happy for their daughter. How terrible, I agree.”
Another heavy sigh, eyes closed in irritation. Nimble fingers grasped the cup, placing it aside. No hiding. Face it head on. A hand, extended in invitation. Pale fingers lace with colorful nail-tipped ones.
But, before Wednesday could even utter a single syllable.
“They love you… I love you. Is it so bad to want to be happy about that? To want to celebrate us?”
Really, Wednesday never stood a chance.
That very evening, everything had been arranged. The menu, cuts of meat and side dishes carefully curated to every discerning palette at the dining table. The place settings, scrubbed, dried, and polished by hand, arranged to millimeter accuracy atop freshly pressed place mats and neatly folded cloth napkins. The center pieces, painstakingly arranged and assembled. Amaryllis for pride. Buttercup for radiance with charm. Dahlia for eternal love. Honeysuckle for devotion and affection.
But, above all else, attire. Casual, but not informal. Comfortable but respectable. Ensemble that states: we accept you as one of our own, but let us be civil to begin.
It is here that lied the problem.
The sparse messages regarding what to wear should have been Wednesday’s first omen. The Enid that required two factor verification before ordering the same heart attack inducing drink she always did, suddenly falling silent when tasked with choosing her wardrobe for her first official Addams family dinner?
The Devil himself may as well have raised an eyebrow.
When the wolf finally announced her arrival at the manor to Wednesday before properly entering the estate, the young Addams made it a point to meet her outside. A quick review of expected conversation topics, suggested responses, and then, a united front. They’d enter, arms linked, ready to face the evening together. To emerge victorious in their venture into the next phase of their joint excursion.
A phase that may very well be the last. Wednesday, in her sleek black coat, stood with grinding teeth before her girlfriend.
“Remove it. Now.”
The playful smirk stretched across Enid’s face did nothing to temper Wednesday’s raging inferno of anger.
“Wednesday!”, exclaimed Enid, feigning scandal, “We haven’t even had dinner yet. Skipping to dessert already?”
Wednesday allowed her piercing gaze to fall to the source of her dismay. Enid simply rolled her eyes.
“I knew you were already going to be super anal about prepping for dinner so I didn’t want to stress you out more by asking you about my outfit—”
“A tremendous job, you’ve done.”
“—So, I started looking at some nice cocktail dresses, strapless with all the important bits accentuated. Oh, like this one!”
Fishing out her cellular device, Enid shoved the glowing screen directly in Wednesday’s face.
It was as described. A strapless, fitted cocktail dress in a sinful, deep red. Upon Enid’s form, dear Gods. Wednesday could not be held responsible for herself.
“And I was almost going to go with it, but then, I saw this bad boy and I was completely sold!”
“For what reason did you decide to forgo this reasonable, albeit garish, style choice in favor of this affront to my sensibilities?”
“Yoko sent it.”
A beat of silence. A twitch of the lip. A piercing stare. The smile on Enid’s face grew just a bit wider, “So, unless you have something hidden in the back of your closet for me to wear…”
Wednesday stepped a single foot to the side, eyes never faltering.
“You will not speak a word to anyone until I return.” With a joyous skip in her step, Enid traipsed into the foyer and off to the living room, where the distant sound of welcoming cheers was heard not long after.
Meanwhile, heavy boots made a beeline for the staircase, boomed up the worn steps until the bedroom door in the West Wing slammed shut. The nightstand next to the bed. An opened drawer. A flip phone comes to life. Wednesday had the infernal communication device to her ear before the first ring began.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
“Tanaka.”
“I will mount your worthless head on my gate.”
“Sneaking off to call me during your fancy schmancy girlfriend dinner?”, came the sleaze dripping snark from that fanged moron. She could practically hear the smirk on Yoko’s face, “What will Enid think?”
“Have you made it your immortal life’s mission to ensure my familial relations are burnt to ash, scattered to the winds, and lost to the sands of time?”
“That’s just hobby. I also garden.”
“Do not jest, fool. I am about to subject myself to eternal beratement at the hands of my familial relations. Divulge your intentions. Now.”
“You really love hearing yourself talk, huh?”
“The shirt, you idiot! That stupid shirt you suggested Enid wear tonight! That is what I am talking about!”
A beat. A long beat. Then…
“AYO ENID IS BOLD AS FUCKING BRASS!” Aside a few muffled sentences, Wednesday would get no further explanations from the vampire, only the grating sound of cackling and the smacking of what was presumably a table. The phone snapped closed, call ended.
Then, tapping on wood. Thing, perched atop Wednesday’s desk, repeatedly tapped a finger against the surface.
“Dinner is about to start. Your parents are calling for you.”
With a single, sharp inhale, Wednesday stomped down the stairs with just as much bitterness and barely contained rage as when she ascended them. Rounding the corner, she peered into the living room. The sight turned her stomach.
Gomez Addams, with all his boisterous gusto and wild charm, chattered about with such animation and fervor, one would think he’d be speaking of some life-long passion project he’d recently finalized, rather than asking how Enid was fairing in potion mixing. Arm slung around the werewolf’s shoulder, grip strong and insistent, his prattling escalated into some kind of declaration of undying love, oddly gestured in Wednesday’s direction.
The chill of death slithered up Wednesday’s spine like a venomous serpent, closing in on unsuspecting prey, when a low but commanding voice floated from just behind her.
“Gomez, save your foreplay for the first course.” Morticia Addams, in her skin tight black dress, pooling like ink at her feet. The mustachioed paramour strode forward, griping his wife’s hand as he passionately kissed a trail up her slender arm. Many words of maudlin affirmation were mumbled against pale skin, most Wednesday wished to not be privy to, before Gomez, with much personal effort, pulled himself away to continue his barrage of questions toward Enid.
“So… your little wolf is making quite the impression, especially with that attire.”
If Wednesday rolled her eyes any further back into her head, she’d be able to watch her brain cells commit suicide in real time.
“Mother…”
“I understand your reservations, but I promise you, there is nothing to lament over.”
Wednesday inhaled deeply, “This is a prelude. An exordium to a lifetime of madness, where her light will forever be coiled in my darkness. And it begins… with this.”, her eyes fell once again to Enid’s shirt.
A black T-shirt. A simple black T-shirt. Innocuous, right? It is, until she turns to face you. On the front of the shirt was a vampire mouth with a long, lashing tongue, piercings running from the tip of the tongue to the back. And, in Old English style lettering along the top and bottom of the mouth, four words.
Goth Girls Taste Better.
Morticia raised a single eyebrow with that same spectral elegance as she did absolutely everything with, “Lifetime? You’re quite enamored with the little wolf, aren’t you, my little grave robber?”
Wednesday’s eyes dart to her mother, “As I’ve stated to Enid herself, I am not ashamed of her nor in saying what she and I are. But, there are some things that I’d prefer stay between us.”
“From my observation, Enid shares your sentiment. And unabashed is the only way an Addams can exist.”
A beat. “I like her.”
Wednesday looked Enid up and down, her gaze settling on her beaming smile, “I love her.”
***
Despite various attempts to unknowingly have Enid consume “only moderately deadly toxins” as Pugsley so reassuringly put it, and more than one occasion of Thing’s best efforts to entertain via juggling knives, dinner was, all in all, successful. Every course ended with a spotless plate, and rather indelicate gastrointestinal outbursts from Enid, until no party could consume a single bite more.
Now, retired to their respective rooms, Wednesday allowed herself a brief moment of calm, not that her continuously raised shoulders would give that impression. Clad in her silk sleepwear, propped against the head board, she perused a compendium of Edgar Allen Poe stories, using the light from the connected bathroom’s open door rather than a candle.
Enid, hair tied back and damp from her nightly shower, peered at her occasionally until the raven could no longer tolerate the burning questions her wolf so clearly wanted to voice. She snapped her book shut, rose from the bad, and for the umpteenth time that day, stomped to the bathroom. In the doorway, posture straight and gaze exacting, Wednesday crossed her arms and held her chin high.
“Speak, Enid.”
“About what?”
“Don’t be coy.”
“I’m not! I’m just waiting for my lotion to set!” A beat. A quick glance, then…
“I’m sorry for putting unnecessary stress on you tonight.”
A heavy sigh. Wednesday padded forward, making Enid turn, and gently gripped her chin, tilting her head down just so. Enough for Wednesday to lean in and place a gentle kiss in the center of Enid’s
forehead. She pulled back, dark brown meeting blue once again.
“You are forgiven, cara mia.” They leaned in again, lips meeting soft and slow. The silence hung between them, fragile and tender, until…
“At least your dad appreciated my shirt.”
“Moment sufficiently murdered.” Coldly, Wednesday turned, heading back to the bed, but Enid caught her hips before she could get too far.
“We just had our first official family dinner! No need to be so tense, my love.”
Pulled flushed against her, Enid’s soft lips nipped at the back of Wednesday’s neck, arms coming up to rub her coiled shoulders. Those same tantalizing lips found purchase on the column of Wednesday’s neck, languid, open mouthed kisses trailing up under her ear. Had she not had her hands on her shoulders, Enid may not have noticed the slight relaxation of Wednesday’s wound nerves.
“How about I get rid of all that nasty tension for you, hm?”
Fingers interlaced, Enid guided them to the bed, laying Wednesday down first before climbing on top of her. Straddling her hips, Enid rested a not unnoticeable weight on her love’s own hips as Wednesday’s hands came up to rest on her hips. Enid leaned down, connecting their lips once again. They brushed against each other, slow and steady. Hands wandering across silk and cotton, softly groping and tugging at the clothes barring them from the soft flesh underneath. While Wednesday was able to get more per handful, Enid’s grinding palms more than made up for it. The silence of the room gave way to the groans and moans it had been made privy to many times now. Enid’s fingers unbuttoned Wednesday’s pajamas quickly, sliding them off and tossing the shirt and matching shorts carelessly to the floor.
The wolf pushed a single finger into Wednesday’s chest, “Don’t move.” She slid that digit down the length of Wednesday’s abdomen until she came just shy of her naval. Their eyes met again in the dark. Wednesday gave a single, firm nod.
Enid’s fingers hooked the sides of the raven’s panties and pulled them down, guiding her legs out to discard of the obstructive garment. Hands gripped pale thighs, rubbing them up and down as Wednesday’s breathing became heavy.
“Relax, my love”, whispered Enid, “Let me take care of you.”
Wednesday could do nothing but stare up at her beautiful wolf. With the pale moonlight filtering in from the window, Enid’s eyes shimmered an almost periwinkle glow as she smiled, sweet and gentle, fangs poking out from under her lips.
Finally, Wednesday allowed herself to fall back into the pillow, eyes fluttered closed as she released a deep exhale. Content with her raven’s now lax state, Enid shimmied down and nestled herself between her legs.
Intoxicating. That was the only apt descriptor for the view laid out before her. Just past her gaze, clenching eagerly, were Wednesday’s puffy, sopping folds glistening in all their drenched wet glory.
“My attire was more to your liking than you dared to admit, I see.”
“Don’t—”
“Look at me.” Her tone left no room for argument, no home for debate. Sitting up properly now, Wednesday’s brown met Enid’s piercing blue, now almost entirely engulfed black.
“I want you to watch”, she growled.
Her long, wolfish tongue dragged across her slit in long, languid strokes. A chill ran along Wednesday’s spine, back arched; her ragged breaths filled the silence of the room. Fingers threaded through Enid’s blond locks, lightly tugging to pull her closer to her aching core. Every swipe was accented by a light squelch, the way Enid’s tongue passed through the folds disturbed the slick, some gathering on her tongue, some dripping down her cunt to pool on the sheets.
A deep shutter battered Wednesday’s frame, the wet sounds loud and incredibly arousing in her ears, the stuttering, broken moan that tumbled past her lips only spurred Enid’s machinations on further. Pulling back only briefly, the tip of that dexterous, controlled tongue swirled around her twitching clit tight and fast before she parted those lower lips, revealing her clenching inner ones. The raven lurched forward with a strangled groan as she watched, helplessly and intensely, as Enid furiously Frenched her cunt. Lips slid and sucked against her weeping folds as her tongue canvased every inch of depths. Then…
Three taps.
That was all Enid had to do against her G-spot to earn another, louder this time, strangled groan and lurch forward as Wednesday’s grip pulled her even closer inside, desperate to feel that expert tongue even deeper inside, thighs clamping like a vise around her head. Enid noted every reaction like predatory attention to detail, the almost rigidness of her frame, rocked by a visible, pleasurable tremor, the hardening of her nipples as her back arched, hips grinding to draw out her explosive release. They way her mouth formed an O in silent scream. Wetness gushed from her depths, causing Enid to clamp down and suck the juices before they stained the sheets any further. Her back went rigid again, a second, slightly weaker, but no less toe curling orgasm hitting her frame.
Her colorful fingertips snaked up her leg, curving above her waist and slinking down, her thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles on her throbbing clit. She gripped Enid’s tighter, grinding herself quick and rough before locking up for the last time that night.
Her breath stuttered in uneven heaves and harsh groans, “En-Enid…”
Pale fingers finally released gold locks as she collapsed onto her pillows, chest heaving as she tried to compose herself. Enid gently placed featherlight kisses along her pubic mound, bringing her down carefully, wiping her chin of excess before shimming up to her exhausted girlfriend and placing a quick kiss on her nose.
“Let me clean up and we’ll head to bed.”
“But… what about you?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Enid”, started Wednesday but was cut off by the wolf’s rapid fire kisses on her cheek.
“Wednesday, I’m fine, I promise. Get some sleep.”
The raven curled on her side, pulling her covers over herself, nestling into the pillows.
“If you’re absolutely certain, my love.” Enid leaned down once more, pecking Wednesday’s sweaty temple before pulling on a black robe and slipping out of the room.
Though the bathroom down the hall was less convenient to use than the attached bathroom in Wednesday’s room, with the long day her love’s had today, a small jaunt down the hall was a small sacrifice to pay to allow her some much needed rest. The closer she got to the hall bathroom though, she noticed a beam of light coming from the gap under the ajar door, the muffled sound of running water coming from inside.
She gently knocked and pushed the door open, seeing a topless Gomez brushing his teeth at the sink, a black towel wrapped around his waist.
“Oh! Sorry to interrupt!” Enid quickly began retreating before Gomez waved her back.
“Enid, cariño! You interrupt nothing! I’m simply engaging in my nightly ritual. Do you need to use the facilities?”
“No no! Just need to brush my teeth.” She waved her hot pink toothbrush and toothpaste as if to defend a point she didn’t need to defend.
“No need to justify! Come, come! Join me! Here”, he pushed the door wide open, leaving all to the open view, “I’ll leave the door wide open to make you feel more comfortable.”
The wolf smiled bashfully and slipped inside, prepped her brush and scrubbed away at her teeth. A beat passed, then…
“Don’t you have a bathroom in your room, Mr. Addams?”
Gomez stopped his own brushing and dripped his head out into the hall, checking to make sure no one was around before leaning in close, “Wednesday will probably despise me for sharing this, but I found your attire this evening quite… inspiring.”
Enid hunched over the sink, spitting the minty toothpaste down the drain in a fit of barely suppressed giggles. Gomez continues merrily brushing with a devilish smile.
“Now, Tish is so tuckered out, I didn’t want to disturb her well-earned sleep. So! I popped down here to finish getting for bed.”
A loose fist banged quietly against the counter as Enid tried to compose herself, pulling herself upright and struggled to continue brushing. After a moment, she managed to finish up with a massive smile on her face.
“Mr. Addams, you’re my second favorite person.”
“Only second?”
“Wednesday’s number one.”
Gomez smiled just as wide, “As she should be, my dear!”
Enid padded back to her room shortly after, crawling into bed and wrapping her arms around a deeply asleep Wednesday. She placed a delicate kiss on the back of her neck.
“Goodnight, love.”
A beat.
“Would you be mad if I bought your dad my shirt?”
“… get out of my room.”