Love Will Find A Way

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52153624.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Category: F/F
Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022)
Relationship: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Characters: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams,
Pugsley Addams, Pubert Addams, Grandmama Addams (Addams
Family), Lurch (Addams Family), Thing (Addams Family), Fester
Addams, Esther Sinclair (Wednesday), Murray Sinclair, Enid Sinclair's
Brothers
Additional Tags: Wednesday Addams is Soft for Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams is Bad
at Feelings, Wednesday Addams Loves Enid Sinclair, Protective
Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair is Soft for Wednesday Addams,
Wenclair Week, Werewolf Enid Sinclair, Protective Enid Sinclair,
Lesbian Wednesday Addams, Autistic Wednesday Addams, Lesbian
Enid Sinclair, Enid Sinclair Loves Wednesday Addams, Angst and Fluff
and Smut, Oblivious
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-12-10 Updated: 2023-12-29 Words: 5,849 Chapters: 4/?
 Love Will Find A Way
by oldrugger82

Summary

Sent away from Nevermore early after the Crackstone/Gates fiasco, Wednesday 'kidnaps'
Enid with the enthusiastic assistance of her family and sub-rosa approval of Enid's dad. As
the temperatures outside drop, the emotional temperatures in our heroines reach the boiling
point as they navigate treacherous minefields of emotions.

Notes

My stab at a Wenclair story, profound thanks to all those authors who have blazed a pathway
into this jungle in my heart. The dynamic between our girls is always worth exploring
although my motives are less than pure. Be Ye Warned: there will be smut as this story
unfolds as the initial question that pushed me into actually writing this came from delightful
AUs that have Wenclair kids, and how that came about...

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1

Love Will Find A Way

Wednesday grumbled to herself as she tossed and turned under her silken black comforter.
The fierce thunderstorm putting on a cacophonous light show through the skylight above her
bed should have capped off the exhausting day and immediately lulled Wednesday to sleep.

Successfully kidnapping Enid (admittedly with her father’s tacit permission), soothing
Enid’s frazzled nerves as she panicked about meeting the Addamses, enduring the florid
emotion and sentimentality as her disgusting family welcomed Enid with open arms would
have made the day tiring enough. Add on the interminable family dinner and a whirlwind
tour of this wing of the mansion and both girls should have instantly fallen unconscious when
they sought an early bed. But Wednesday remained wide awake and knew, somehow, that
Enid was just as awake. And in distress.
Ever since the night Enid rescued her from The Hyde Wednesday knew where Enid was –
and roughly what she was feeling. Ever since The Hug. Wednesday never allowed anyone
inside her defenses, never gave anyone the opportunity to make her vulnerable, to potentially
hurt her, wound her, destroy her: except Enid. The colorful werewolf had quietly burrowed
her way into Wednesday’s heart, slowly dissolving her armor like an acid- corrosive,
pervasive, ‘addictive…?’ whispered a treacherous little voice.

Wednesday tried to ignore the voice, which intruded more and more often these days.

Kicking off her covers, the seer stalked to Enid’s door, directly across from her own. And
there she stood, dithering. What the hell was she going to say? ‘I know that you’re in distress
because we have a psychic connection?!’

****
Enid whimpered as another booming explosion filled her room with light and fury. Oh God,
how long could this storm last?! Yet even in her distress, Enid absently noted Wednesday’s
approach. While normally keen, the werewolf’s hearing and sense of smell blossomed into
almost supernatural abilities with her first transformation. There were definite drawbacks –
like the current storm raging outside – but Enid could precisely trace her roomie, never again
would she lose track of Wednesday.

Crawling out from under her gigantic four-poster bed, Enid padded to the door. She felt
ridiculous opening with a pillow clamped over her ears but the sonic assault was agony.
Immediately Wednesday’s scent – the sharp tang of typewriter ink, mellow vanilla of old
books, the rosemary and lemon of her soap – eased some of the knotted tension clamping
Enid’s neck. Enid drank in the sight, and scent, of the girl who had captured her attention,
then her heart, and now – literally – herself.

Wednesday arched an eyebrow at the pillow. Flushing, Enid hid it behind her back as her
werewolf ears twitched. The mansion shook as a bolt of lightning hit close enough for light
and sound to arrive simultaneously. With a screech, Enid dropped to her knees and clamped
the pillow back over her head. Her eyes grew blurry as they filled with tears at the sight of
Wednesday turning on her heel and leaving. Disgusted with her, no doubt, just another
disappointment that couldn’t even handle a simple thunderstorm.

Crawling back under her bed, into her nest of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals as
far away as possible from the thunder and lightning, Enid huddled in misery. Even muffled
by the pillow, though, she sensed quiet footsteps approaching. The footsteps stopped, Enid
almost smiling at the imagined look on Wednesday’s face at Enid’s disappearing act.
Submitting to an impish impulse, Enid snaked a hand out from under the bed and grabbed an
ankle. She immediately let go and snatched her hand back, barely avoiding getting it pinned
to the floor by the knife which slammed into the floor.

An annoyed face framed by twin braids peered under the sheet, verified that it was only
Enid, and crawled under to join her. Wordlessly, the dark-haired girl handed over the largest
set of head phones Enid had ever seen. They fit comfortably even over her wolf ears! And all
sound just…vanished. Enid’s delight also vanished when the entire room lit from another
near-miss. Curling back into a fetal ball, she keened her misery.

****
Wednesday started to crawl out from under the bed, mission of mercy accomplished, when
the actinic strobe light of the lightning strike lit up the room, even under the bed, and Enid
collapsed in a pathetic heap. Wednesday knew what would help her friend: her best friend,
her only friend. But fear locked her in place. Wednesday had no fear that Enid would reject
her or mock her, the girl was definitely tactile. And friendly and loving and faithful and
lovely and….about to consume Wednesday’s heart and soul if she offered the comfort that
Enid so obviously needed. But if Wednesday succumbed to the Addams Family Curse, it was
irreversible, irrevocable, and they were both girls. What possible interest could Enid, her
Enid, the shining light at the center of Wednesday’s dark universe, have in her?

Ultimately, the sight, and sound, of Enid in distress drew Wednesday in. Pushing her past
her self-imposed boundaries, past her fears, past her comfort zone just as she had at The Hug.
Wednesday would accept the discomfort, the uncomfortable, unfamiliar feelings, if they
erased the sadness from her wolf. Moving on hands and knees, Wednesday propped herself
against the back wall. Gently touching Enid on the shoulder, Wednesday gestured. In a flash
her lap was full of werewolf, face buried in her belly. Clawed hands gripped the back of her
hips, clinging like a drowning girl to a lifeline.
Everyone who knew Wednesday would describe her as touch-averse. Hell, Wednesday
herself would say the same – except where Enid was concerned. Ever since The Hug, the seer
found herself craving any sort of contact with Enid. So, running her fingers soothingly
through the sweat-tangled blonde curls was the most natural action in the world. Gently
shifting the headband of the ear-protectors onto the nape of Enid’s neck, Wednesday
continued to run her fingertips over Enid’s scalp, Revelling in the sensation as much the
werewolf wriggling in her lap, Wednesday huffed out a quiet laugh as Enid’s tail wagged
madly.

Ever since her transformation on the night of Crackstone’s Blood Moon, Enid tended to pop
out werewolf features when she was stressed or excited: claws, fangs, ears…tail… And while
Enid was a terrible liar, her tail was utterly incapable of deception.

****
Enid couldn’t believe her luck. Just when her first night in the Addams Family mansion
seemed doomed to nightmares and despair, Wednesday rescued her. Absolutely shocked at
being guided into her roomie’s lap, you couldn’t have pried Enid away with a crowbar. Awful
light from the storm hidden by the silky soft material covering Wednesday’s belly just as the
agonizing thunder had disappeared, Enid didn’t think that she could be happier. Then gentle
fingers stroked her scalp, soothing her over-stimulated nerves as they slowly raked through
her curls.

Normally Enid would be embarrassed by her tail making an appearance, and mortified by it
wagging like a golden retriever in a room full of kindergartners, but she accepted that she
needed to somehow express some of the joy that she felt. She must, or she would explode,
which would be a waste of the most glorious moment since Wednesday had drawn her into
The Hug. Enid knew that she was an emotional creature, knew that she was drawn to her dark
roommate more than was healthy, knew that they shared something…special. But Enid didn’t
realize how special until that moment at the gates of Nevermore.

At that moment Enid lost her heart, willingly given to the girl she had nearly died to save.
The implications didn’t truly sink in until later when the practicalities raised their mocking
heads. Wednesday was a girl, girls were interested in boys not emotionally needy
werewolves. Wednesday was private, anti-social even, probably asexual, maybe even
aromantic (although the Rav’n gave Enid hope on both of those accounts…). Wednesday was
touch-averse and Enid wasn’t just a hugger, she craved affection, especially simple physical
affection, with the burning desire that only someone raised in a loveless, abusive, controlling
environment could understand.

****
Wednesday felt the Curse ignite, filling her blood with fire that scorched her veins as it
scarred her body and soul with desires that she frankly never expected to experience. Pooling
in her belly, and lower, the Curse knew exactly where Enid’s beautiful face rested. As much
to distract herself as to comfort Enid, Wednesday softly crooned an old lullaby as her fingers
endlessly savored the sensation of Enid. Silly, perhaps, with the ear-protectors eliminating
any and all sound but the gesture was important to Wednesday even if it remained symbolic.
What she didn’t know was that Enid could feel the vibrations of the song even if no music
came through, and was comforted that much further.

And so, nestled in a blanket fort underneath an ancient four-poster, the girls fell asleep as
they held each other.
******
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

Acclimating to a new space can be...stressful.

Chapter Notes

Apologies for the long delay in this next chapter. Hopefully they start to come faster as
post-holiday I should have more time. Thanks again to everyone who helped to solve the
posting & presentation difficulties, I appreciate that.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

When Enid woke she was alone. The storm subsided to a sullen tattoo of cold rain against
the mansion, allowing Enid to cautiously remove the ear-protectors. Thank the Goddess those
were still on her head or the werewolf would dismiss last night as some fevered dream or
fantasy. Following the faint sound of rapid-fire clicking Enid padded to Wednesday’s door.
When her roommate wrote she neither noticed the world around her nor appreciated any
interruption so Enid slipped in silently.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Enid split her time drinking in the sight of Wednesday
hammering away at her typewriter and frankly scoping out the place. Enid fervently believed
that one’s room was one’s sanctum, the place where you could express yourself as honestly as
possible. Wednesday’s half of their room at Nevermore had never given Enid the insights into
her gloomy friend that she craved. The entire exercise had been one of mistrust and negation,
or so it seemed, although Enid could understand and respect Wednesday’s point of view.

On the surface, similarities abounded: everything was meticulously neat and organized, a
place for everything and everything in its place. But there was so much more of…everything.
Books, Enid had never seen so many bookcases in any room that wasn’t a library. There were
more books, looking more transient, squared in piles on Wednesday’s desk (and nightstand
and windowsill and floor…). Enid squinted to read some of the titles and immediately de-
focused, instantly regretting that decision.

The other obvious occupant of space were weapons – racked on the wall, standing in
umbrella holders, mounted to the bedposts. And while there were implements of mayhem
designed to mangle or crush or bludgeon the majority looked decidedly…stabby…in nature.
So far, very Wednesday. The more Enid snooped, however, the more tidbits she discovered. A
plant carefully located in the best spot for sun that from Thornhill’s class she recognized as a
black dahlia. A colorful series of small paintings, gilt-framed, of subjects Enid would never
associate with her black-and-white roommate. And small cameo portrait on her nightstand, a
braided girl on one side facing a jaunty scorpion on the other.

As the typing noises ceased, Enid looked toward her friend. Extending the ear-protectors,
she murmured her thanks. “No, you hold onto them, this storm is projected to last all week.”

Nodding, Enid cocked her head, “where did you find these? They’re much too large for
you.”

Wednesday’s face twitched briefly, a fleeting emotion that Enid couldn’t decipher, “they
belonged to my grandfather…he was a werewolf.”

Shock loosened Enid’s features, was that one of the reasons she felt drawn so strongly to
the small seer? Of course, there was an Addams twist to the moment, “he was murdered
while wearing them, never knew that his attacker was present, which speaks well for their
functionality.”

Of course.

“Why do thunderstorms bother you so much anyway?”

Enid shrugged, “they’ve always bothered me but since I wolfed out? My senses have gone
haywire, my hearing is a dozen times more sensitive.” Enid decided to throw her own
‘Addams moment’ back at Wednesday, “plus my grandma was killed during a violent
thunderstorm when I was six, murdered, in fact.”

Wednesday immediately perked up but Enid answered before the question, “I don’t know
what happened, none of the adults would ever explain anything. Of course my idiot older
brothers all told me it was the Storm Monsters and they were coming to get me next. Guess
that sunk into my head, which I know is silly, but storms still give me awful nightmares.”
Enid locked eyes, “except last night…thank you.”

Wednesday squirmed, mumbling away the gratitude and the uncomfortable emotions. Enid
let her wriggle for a moment then threw her a lifeline. “What time do you guys normally eat
breakfast? Not trying to rush you but…werewolf metabolism, ya know?”

Wednesday jumped up, grateful for a practical escape, “not until much later, early morning
is not the best time to find an Addams.”

“Except you?”

“Except me. The kitchen is easily accessible, though, come along.”

“Sounds good, just give me a minute to throw on some more clothes.”

Wednesday froze, she knew that Enid habitually slept in just a t-shirt and underwear but
suddenly the image, the awareness, of her long-limbed roommate rushed to the forefront of
her consciousness. Enid’s brilliant smile as she turned and scampered back to her room. The
hem of the shirt not even close to covering the shimmery material molded to those rounded
muscles…moving… as Enid ran back to her room. Long legs, so long, so so long, graceful
like a fawn, why had Wednesday never noticed any of this before?! And how could she return
to blissful ignorance, dammit, this new state of awareness was severely roiling both her
emotions and her belly…

The girls briefly crossed paths with Pugsley in the kitchen as he trudged behind Lurch on
his way to school with all the enthusiasm of man heading to his own public execution. “You
guys are so lucky!” The girls each agreed, silently, as they worked in comfortable silence.
Each girl proudly placed her offering in front of the other, leaning on the tall island as they
enjoyed the food, and each other’s company. Wednesday sipped her black coffee and nibbled
her nearly-burnt buttered toast as she watched Enid devour her lox-covered bagels and a
small mound of fruit, occasionally washing it down with the sweet tea Wednesday made.

After doing their dishes, Enid giddily followed Wednesday around more of the house before
joining the rest of the family at breakfast. Pubert glued himself to his new favorite person
(not that Enid objected) crying when Wednesday tried to take Enid away after the meal.
Toddler on her hip, Enid followed Wednesday for more exploration.

“And this is Kitty’s solarium, she can often be found elsewhere but this is her favorite
space.” Enid walked in as Wednesday held the door. She drank in the sights of the room: the
bright tropical plants, the colored light from the stained glass windows, the largest, most
realistic lion rug she’d ever seen…and then the rug raised its head… “Kitty!” exclaimed the
toddler squirming in her grasp, trying to break free, while Enid hissed, “Wends! Grab the
baby and get out! I’ll try to stall it!”

Enid sank into a combat stance, claws out, as Wednesday grabbed her brother. And headed
directly for the lion! Frozen in shock and dismay, Enid could only watch in horror as Pubert
dropped to the floor directly in front of the gaping maw. One giant paw held the boy pinned
in place as the tongue snaked out…and began cleaning the giggling boy head to foot of the
remnants of eggs and bacon and jam from breakfast. Wednesday sank her fingers into the
ruff, gently scratching as she turned to Enid and flashed an amused smile.

Enid wanted to be outraged, wanted to be livid, but the impact of Wednesday’s smile
stunned her. Omigod, she has dimples!

“Come here Sinclair and get properly introduced.”

Enid skittered forward, twitchy with adrenaline as Wednesday took her hand. Enid
squeaked as Wednesday rubbed the hand on her face then placed it where the lion could sniff
it (or take it off at the shoulder, whichever). For the contact, and the dimples, Enid would
count that a fair trade.

Tentatively, Enid ran her fingers through the ruff (and over, through, around Wednesday’s
fingers) while still expecting to be disemboweled at any moment. Soon enough, however, the
squealing toddler loosed an acrid stink, widening all other eyes in the room. “Tag, you’re it
Wends,” Enid mock-glared at her friend, “I’m going upstairs to change, since Pubert may not
have been the only one who soiled himself!”

“Don’t forget to be back in the kitchen for elevenses…scaredy-wolf…”

 Enid fled before those dimples could utterly destroy her.

Closing the door to her room Enid pulled down her shorts and panties. Sure enough, there
was a wet spot…and a scent that nagged at her senses. Not the dank scent of urine, though.
Enid pondered as she removed the soiled clothing, what was that smell and why was it
familiar? As she dropped the clothing in her laundry bag Enid realized several disturbing
truths. The scent was exactly the same as the spicy extra tang in Wednesday’s scent-picture
that Enid’s newly enhanced senses discovered. Plus, those dimples (those damned dimples!)
flashed to the forefront of Enid’s consciousness, again, as she realized how…horny…she
was. Could that be it?! Was Wednesday aroused?!

Before she became excited, though, the negative voices in her head chimed in, “she IS a
teenager, after all. Not like she has to be excited about YOU, hmmm? Just because you’re a
SLUT, don’t project that on your friend…”

Shaking her head, Enid tried to dismiss her personal Greek chorus. Crawling under her bed
into her nest she snuggled her raven plushie. The other hand drifted down, fingers moving in
purposeful circles as Enid let her mind drift, filling with Wednesday’s smile. As she allowed
herself to fantasize a world where her raven was excited about Enid, the pace of her fingers
increased. Muffling her increasingly loud noises in the plushie, the werewolf tensed, then
shuddered as all of her tension – mental, physical, emotional – drained away in a haze of
pleasure.

At least for now.

******

Chapter End Notes

Mmmm endorphins :)
 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

In which science is attempted: experiments in arousal...and self-denial...

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

And so the girls settled into what would become a comfortable daytime routine, up early to
grab breakfast with Pugsley and send him off to school, then before second breakfast
Wednesday would show Enid some new part of the mansion. Second breakfast with the
remainder of the family followed by Wednesday disappearing as Enid helped – Morticia with
her greenhouse, Lurch and Thing with chores (or playing hooky with the boys to watch their
soap operas), Grandmama with cooking or her witchy projects. Elevenses saw the girls
reunited after which they exercised in some way: fencing with Gomez, hikes in the
surrounding forest, more traipsing through the mansion. Lunch, a light meal, saw Wednesday
disappear again as Enid would play with Pubert and help Morticia wear him out so he would
take his nap. Pugsley would arrive home from school and the clan would reassemble for tea.
Little sandwiches and cakes, each family member taking turns to prepare that days treats, this
was Enid’s favorite food-time of the day.

Afterward the girls would hang out as Pugsley did his homework, helping as needed. Enid
provided incentive by watching shows on her laptop with him once he finished, keeping the
excitable boy from dawdling and procrastinating. Dinner was the focal point of the Addams
day – it was late, it was lavish, and it was an event. Enid loved the food (well, most of it…),
loved the spectacle, but mainly loved the way that the family came together to share – food,
time, love…even her prickly, grumpy friend.

The evenings, however, were somewhat less-than-comfortable…

The storm rolled back in as the sun, and temperature, went down. Enid huddled in her fort,
hoping for a repeat of the previous night. Sure enough, Wednesday’s face peered under the
blanket, asking permission with her eyebrow. Enid scuttled away from the wall, inviting the
seer inside only to muckle onto Wednesday as soon as she settled.

The raven stroked Enid’s hair just as she had the night before. The rainbow wolf clung to
her friend as the world crashed and banged and lit with hell-flashes. But even the fiercest
storm can’t last forever. As a lull developed, Enid indulged her curiousity. Wednesday’s scent
remained the same soothing mix, plus that tantalizing tang. Enid reached even further back,
her claws gently scritching at the silky fabric covering Wednesday’s butt. At the same time
Enid burrowed her nose in the seer’s belly from side to side as though seeking a ‘best’ resting
 spot. Sure enough, the seer’s ‘tang’ spiked, sending a thrill through the experimenting
werewolf. However, it appeared two could play at this game…

*****

Wednesday couldn’t tell if Enid was deliberately trying to drive her crazy or simply
burrowing deeper. But the molten sensations in her belly that kept dripping lower and lower
wrenched out a moan that Wednesday never could have imagined herself making. And if she
never had to hear it again that would be a day too soon! Finally admitting defeat, the raven
accepted that the family curse claimed another victim. Bad enough on the face of it, but this
was new and terrifying territory to Wednesday – she had no idea what to do about…any of it!

Especially since it was inconceivable that Enid - bright, colorful, social Enid -would
reciprocate these insipid emotions. Still…perhaps Wednesday could cautiously signal her
intentions…and indulge a fantasy… Her fingers crept toward the furry ears swathed in their
protectors. Gently, gently, oh-so-slowly they scritched at the base of those soft, fascinating
ears. As her nails travelled up and down the ears and all around the bases Wednesday heard
the most glorious sound. Enid moaning. Not just any moan, either, but a long, low, lewd
sound that Wednesday wanted to drink in for the rest of her life. Proud of herself for eliciting
these sounds from Enid, Wednesday smiled at how her friend squirmed. If she could only
hear herself, then she’d truly squirm! Squirming herself, Wednesday endlessly sang her
favorite lullaby to her favorite wolf, trying to soothe both of them to sleep. Eventually it
happened, but both girls slept restlessly, overstimulated but terrified of reaching out.

*****

Chapter End Notes

Self-immolation counts as a slow burn, right...?

 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

Magic comes in many shapes, as do out favorite girls...

Chapter Notes

Dream a little dream of me...be ye warned, this chapter gets steamy. If that isn't your cup
of tea feel free to skip (or skim, or cheat & read it but don't tell anybody :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next several days followed the same frustrating pattern with each girl secretly yearning
and subtly pushing the envelope. The difference, however, is that Enid would find time and
space to ‘release the pressure’ a bit…Wednesday did not know how… Not only had she
never experienced anything like this (actively avoided it her entire life, in fact) but she never
had anyone in her life who could have provided some sort of…guidance. No older sister or
cousin, no favorite aunt, no close friends and peers…and even the best-stocked library has its
limitations.

Then Friday happened.

The storm ebbed and flowed all week but Friday afternoon onward the entire region shook
to howling winds and pyrotechnics worthy of an angry Goddess. Enid cowered in her nest,
grateful that Wednesday left her side only for calls of nature and to bring back food and
drink. But there was a cost…

Enid was a twitchy wreck, from her inability to relieve her hormonal pressure as much as
the violent storm raging outside. Wednesday was in much worse shape. By the time she
snuck down to grab leftovers from lunch on Saturday, the raven was so overwhelmed that she
was shaking. An innocent remark from Pugsley and she exploded. Everyone caught verbal
shrapnel even though no one really deserved any of it. As Wednesday stormed back upstairs
the family drifted together conspiratorially. As dinnertime rolled around, the girls lay
exhausted in each others’ arms, twitching, as the storm showed no sign of ending.

Suddenly, the blanket at the edge of the bed flipped up, revealing most of the rest of the
Addams! Crawling under, they passed in dinner from Lurch’s giant mitts to Gomez to
Morticia. Pugsley ensured everyone had plates and silverware, Thing gossiped madly with
Enid via sign language as Pubert snuggled her. The last items to enter were a series of little
white boards, Gomez grabbed one, writing ‘Dinner is served!’ in flowing script as Pugsley
handed one to everyone but Pubert.

Wednesday sat off to one side, arms crossed, torn between pride and annoyance at her
family. The look of joy on Enid’s face at the effort and acceptance, though, kept any scathing
comments locked behind her clamped lips. Conversation via white board was cumbersome
and stilted but the warmth behind the innovation, as the storm howled outside, more than
compensated.

As dinner wound down, Enid’s eyes drooped, further and further each time as she struggled
to stay awake. Drawing the blonde head onto her lap, Morticia soothed the girl toward sleep
as Wednesday seethed. That was her job, dammit! Gomez mimed to Pugsley and the boys to
clean up then beckoned Wednesday to follow him.

In the hallway he leaned in, “you look absolutely dreadful, my little storm cloud! When did
you last sleep?” Heading off the eruption that he saw building in her expression, Gomez
made shushing sounds with his hands, “don’t worry, we’ll watch your lovely lupa for you.
But you must get some rest, or you risk hurting yourself…or Enid.” That stopped Wednesday
in her tracks. If Wednesday was brutally honest with everyone (and she was) she prided
herself on being the same with herself.

“You are correct, Father, but,” Wednesday shuffled in place, “I cannot fall asleep.” And I
certainly cannot explain to YOU the reason why, she snarked internally, or Mother or…
anyone…

“Grandmama refused to crowd into dinner but she did whip up a little something special.
For you.” Gomez reached out as if to guide Wednesday by the arm, immediately thought
better of it, and gestured vaguely instead. “She’s in your room, come come come.”

Wednesday took it as a measure of her overstimulated exhaustion that the thought of

anyone uninvited in her room, except Enid, didn’t cause an instant fury. Trudging alongside
her skittish father, Wednesday stumbled to a halt at the sight of her grandmother slumped on
a chair. The old woman turned a haggard face from her study of the cheerful little paintings
on the bedroom wall, “I’d completely forgotten about these.”

Wednesday squirmed, intensely uncomfortable at the unshed tears in the hoarse voice, and
the emotions those paintings stirred in her as well. She must be truly overwrought if she
could not contain them as she normally did. Desperately seeking to avoid a conversation that
might include those emotions Wednesday gestured toward the toxic green concoction
bubbling on her nightstand, “that looks dreadful and smells worse.”

If Grandmama’s smile was a bit watery so be it, “sometimes you say the nicest things…this
will cure what ails ya, made it special for you.”

“Or kill me…”

“Whichever,” Grandmama managed a cackle, “you’ve never cared before!”

 That was true, Wednesday silently conceded, but to her growing horror realized might no
longer be accurate. Never seeing Enid smile again? Never hearing that bubbling laugh ever
again? Never running her fingers through Enid’s hair or gently over her ears? Unbearable.
Steeling herself, Wednesday seized the goblet and chugged the contents. The truly, truly vile
contents…but before she could make a cutting remark her legs buckled and her vision
immediately dimmed. She had a moment for one last thought <Enid…> before darkness
consumed her.

Being forewarned, Gomez caught her. Gently laying his prickly pear of a daughter on her
bed, he straightened her limbs, crossing her arms on her chest in her preferred corpse-like
pose. Untying the boots, he glanced over, “you’re sure about this?”

“I’ve never seen someone spontaneously combust from hormone-repression before but the
girl was on the edge of miracle-science…”

“But Wednesday doesn’t handle emotion well, what if…”

“Her subconscious will know exactly what to do,” she interrupted, “just make sure that you
lock that door.” Creaking erect she gestured imperiously, “come.”

*****

Wednesday came to in Enid’s nest, or what seemed to be Enid’s nest. The rest of her family
were nowhere in sight, thank the Goddess, but Enid lay right next to her. Lay there moaning
as her fingers moved under her panties… Wednesday lay frozen, torn between invading
Enid’s privacy and not missing a moment of the sights, and sounds, and scents… All of
which continued to escalate until the colorful girl visibly tensed, gave a happy little shriek,
and melted. That was the only description that made sense to Wednesday.

Twitching, Enid looked over at Wednesday and smiled, “this is all your fault, you know?”
Wednesday could feel her face heating red-hot but no words emerged as she watched those
fingers still moving, slowly, lazily, easily. “Until I met you it was just an occasional thing,
blowing off steam or fantasizing about some cute boy. Now? Multiple times a day or I’ll feel
like exploding. Do you feel like exploding, Wends?” She could only nod, dumbstruck. “Well,
what are you waiting for? I certainly won’t judge!” Enid shifted to more directly face her best
friend, “or do you need to be alone? I understand, I’ll leave.”

“N-no! Don’t go! I-I_want, I need b-b-but I-I’ve never…” Wednesday stumbled to halt,
embarrassed beyond words. Enid freezing in place decidedly did not help.

“…never?”

“I-I never had any interest, or n-need…until you…” Wednesday lowered her flaming face,
cringing at being vulnerable, awaiting the contempt, the rejection, the sneering dismissal.
Only to snap her head up in absolute shock at the throaty voice whispering in her ear, “I-I can
help you with that…?”

Whimpering in her need but locked in fear of saying, doing, thinking, the wrong thing and
scaring away her Enid, Wednesday lay stiff as a board. “It’s okay to be scared, Wends, nod
your head for me if I can help.”

Jerking like a marionette, the raven bobbled her assent. “Good girl,” the soft voice paused
as softer lips nibbled on Wednesday’s earlobe.

Ohhhhhhh, all thoughts fled as sensation took over, “you’re so tense, we’ll have to do
something about that….look at me.” Turning her head Wednesday found herself nose to nose
with Enid, sweet breath tickling her lips as those sapphire eyes consumed her face. Enid
gently rubbed noses as her hand reached up to cup a cheek. Wednesday shuddered, pressing
her face into the palm as Enid slowly moved even closer. When those lips brushed against
hers Wednesday couldn’t help it, she squeaked.

Blushing furiously, she tried to pull away but the hand on her cheek held her in place.
Softly, gently, inexorably, “shhh, you don’t have to run, you don’t have to hide, you have
nothing to be ashamed of.”

The lips returned, lightly pressing. Wednesday felt electric sparks, like one of her Uncle
Fester’s handshakes, but much more pleasurable. How long their lips moved together, saying
what could not be vocalized between them, Wednesday never knew. Could have been
minutes, could have been centuries. Twisting onto her side to better face Enid, Wednesday
shyly reached a hand to Enid’s face. Mimicking her friend, the raven softly caressed her face
as time stood still.

Enid’s foot moved onto Wednesday’s calf, brushing the silky pajamas and the shaking leg
beneath it. Wednesday moved closer, inviting Enid to hook her leg all the way over. Moaning
as that slimly powerful naked limb held her close, Wednesday’s other hand moved to urgently
run through Enid’s hair. As the werewolf ears popped up, needy fingers paid lavish attention.
Enid moaning, louder and louder, allowed Wednesday to do the same.

Suddenly, Enid broke their kiss. Whining in protest, Wednesday gasped as the lips moved
down her face, kissing their way down her jawline onto her neck. Taking their time, those lips
discovered all sorts of spots that sent chills running down Wednesday’s spine. When Enid
grazed the spot where neck met collarbone, Wednesday gasped again. The grazing turned to
nibbling turned to something very close to biting. Wednesday had lost the power, or desire, to
analyze - she just knew that teeth were involved and that she wanted this. Holding Enid’s
head in place, Wednesday made increasingly greedy noises.

When Enid’s hand drifted from Wednesday’s face to her silky top, it paused, seeking
consent. Feeling deliciously naughty, Wednesday reached down and ripped the top open,
buttons spraying before returning to Enid’s curls. When those long fingers brushed her
nipple, slipping to cup her breast, Wednesday hissed. Arching her back, the seer pressed as
much of herself as hard as she could into her blonde goddess’ touch. Writhing in glorious
agony, Wednesday reveled in touch, a guilty pleasure she never would have contemplated.
Until Enid.

When the werewolf lifted her mouth from Wednesday’s neck the smaller girl keened in
protest until the attention latched onto her breast… If Wednesday were rational, she thought,
the sounds she made as Enid took the entire breast in her mouth, sucking gently, would have
been excruciatingly humiliating. Then that tongue began to do things with her nipple and
 Wednesday lost all sense of shame and perspective. As the torment continued Wednesday
shifted her leg over top of Enid’s, trapping it between her thighs. Caressing turned into
grinding as the need to feel pressure between her legs became unbearable.

Enid slipped her hand downward, pausing on Wednesday’s twitching belly. Feeling like a
complete slut, and not caring in the slightest, Wednesday fumbled her own hand downward.
Pressing Enid’s hand lower, Wednesday made encouraging noises as it slipped beneath
waistband of her pajama bottoms. Fingers exploring her damp curls, Wednesday huffed out
encouragement as best she could since she had apparently lost the use of words. When those
fingers found their mark, Wednesday let her know. Hell, Wednesday let the entire world
know…and had not a care doing so.

Flopping and squealing in her stronger friend’s grasp, for the first time in her life
Wednesday finally understood her parents. As she shrieked in a release that she didn’t know
was possible but now knew that she needed, Wednesday forgave their insipid displays of
affection and need. As the fingers slowed, soothing rather than stimulating, Wednesday
savored a sense of…peace, well-being, stillness, that she’d never experienced – or expected
to. Wearily pulling Enid’s face up, she whispered, “I love you, Enid Sinclair.” And basked in
the beaming smile those simple words created.

*****

With a jolt, Wednesday awoke. In her bed, fully clothed except for her boots, alone but for a
fleeting dream that she desperately tried to make stay. But the soothing afterglow of that
dream, and everything in it, remained. As did the mess between her legs…but that was a
price Wednesday would gladly pay. As she lay in a stupor she noted that dawn was breaking,
and that the storm was nowhere to be seen.

*****

Chapter End Notes

Someone had to help our poor, oblivious girls...go Grandmama!

End Notes

I hope that you will provide feedback, initiate discussion, and at various points help me
resolve various questions. Thank you

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