Sweet but psycho pt.6
Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Warning: mind control vibes, meds forced, anxiety, hospital chaos
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
“What do you mean, help you with what!?” Y/n squeaked in disbelief.
The nurse’s eyes widened comically at Wednesday’s reckless proposal, and every fiber in her body went rigid. Her arms tightened around Addams’ waist; nails dragged lightly over the fabric, hesitant, as if battling against her own instincts.
Wednesday pressed her lips into a line so thin it looked like a cut, discomfort carved into that usually unreadable face.
A jolt ran through Y/n — had she hurt her?
The idea stabbed her.
Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, sinking into soft flesh until a metallic tang reached her tongue. A trembling breath escaped her nose, chest rising unevenly. Wednesday’s gaze fixed on her, unblinking, a flicker of something unreadable passing through those black irises.
Was that amusement?
Or just expectation?
The scent of body wash mixed with warm skin clouded her mind, dissolving rational thought and leaving only the frantic thud of her heartbeat echoing in her ears.
Wednesday tilted her head, the small movement sharpening the angles of her jaw. A slow glide brought Addams’ hand from Y/n’s shoulder down to her sternum, forearm settling as support. Fingers hung in the air near her face.
Close, but not touching.
A black-painted nail hooked a strand of Y/n's hair, brushing it aside.
The jolt snapped through Y/n’s jaw; muscles tensed, the fog lifting just enough for instinct to kick in. Her grip around Wednesday’s hips loosened, then slipped away entirely.
She stepped back.
“I can’t do it,” the whisper barely formed. Her heart hammered hard enough to hurt.
Instinct wanted to trust Wednesday’s words.
Maybe Addams wasn’t capable of something so grotesque — not on her own mother.
But believing and acting were distant worlds.
And getting involved…
If suspicion fell on her?
If someone thought she’d helped?
Her career would evaporate.
Every hospital would blacklist her.
She might end up institutionalized herself.
Or in prison...
Maybe rotting there.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Wednesday’s voice sliced the air, cold enough to burn.
Y/n’s head snapped up. Addams stood with arms crossed, gaze cutting through the room. The tension in her jaw said everything her mouth didn’t. Hidden fists pressed beneath her arms; her posture bristled with barely restrained fury.
A shaky sigh slipped from Y/n, followed by a hard swallow.
“I believe you… but helping means risking my job,” she admitted, trembling. “I could end up in prison.”
Wednesday didn’t blink. Her stare sharpened like a blade. Lips compressed into a thin line. Even the minimal shift of her foot, the near-invisible tightening of her forearms, radiated contained anger.
“I’m sorry, Wed,” Y/n murmured, the nickname falling out coated in a strange sweetness.
The sudden recollection of the breakfast tray struck her — she’d forgotten the medication.
Her hand moved on its own, searching the pocket of her coat until fingers closed around the pill container. The cap twisted off with a small click. Bianca’s prescribed pills for Wednesday rattled inside.
The tension thickened as Wednesday continued watching her.
“I’m sorry too, Y/n,” came the soft reply — but her eyes told a different story: disappointment, frustration, fury layered beneath the calm tone.
Y/n froze, frown deepening… until Wednesday moved.
Too fast.
Instinct tried to pull her backward, but her limbs lagged behind her thoughts.
An arm locked around her, fingers gripping her jaw with controlled precision. A cold ripple slid down her neck as Addams’ hand approached her face — and the pills slipped past her lips.
Her throat seized in shock. Wednesday forced the swallow.
Shit ! Panic flared.
For a single second, their eyes met. Then Y/n staggered toward the door.
The hallway lurched. The floor pitched. Vision fractured in two.
Hands shook violently; legs dragged like dead weight. Breaths came short, urgent.
Her tongue turned thick and stiff, saliva drying instantly.
A thin line of drool slipped from the corner of her mouth. Sweat dotted her forehead as her pulse pounded wildly.
Her body no longer obeyed.
A trembling hand stretched out in desperation. Fingertips scraped the rough wall, grounding her for an instant.
Then her arm slid downward, colliding with someone’s shoulder.
Her breath hitched.
“Y/n?” A woman’s voice, far away, muted by distance.
She tried responding but the tongue lay trapped against her palate.
Saliva accumulated too quickly; panic choked her.
Sweat dripped down her temples.
“Y/n!” The voice neared, sharp and urgent.
An arm wrapped around her waist, catching her collapse.
Her body sagged into a soft support. A hand tilted her chin down, forcing hazy eyes to focus. A light slap tapped her cheek.
Her mind screamed but her limbs stayed useless.
Brown, almond-shaped eyes — terrified, familiar — locked onto hers.
And then everything vanished.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
No sight.
No sound.
(---)
A faint twitch beneath her eyelids signaled the slow return of consciousness.
Her jaw tightened, carving the shape of her bone structure; lips pressed together until they almost fused.
Her tongue felt like stone.
Thoughts drifted behind a heavy fog, unreachable.
Like fragments of a fever dream.
What happened? she wondered silently. But even the question sounded empty. Painful. A distant echo.
And the worst thing about an echo?
The repetition.
The repetition banged inside her skull, each wave sharper than the last.
Her throat contracted reflexively; saliva slid down without easing the burn. A grating sensation scraped her airway, triggering a hoarse cough.
Unused vocal cords protested violently.
A fragile whimper escaped.
“Y/n?” The voice reached her again — closer this time.
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, only to close them immediately, unable to endure the harsh brightness. Her lips curled into an expression of discomfort as the light flickered rapidly across her face.
“Thank God you’re awake,” Yoko murmured, rattled.
Dr. Tanaka clicked off the flashlight, worry etched across her features.
Y/n blinked repeatedly, drowning in the cottony fog muffling her thoughts.
Yoko’s gaze narrowed, sharp with reprimand.
A shiver rippled across Y/n’s spine.
Not fear.
Anger.
A buried, throbbing anger cracking through the drug-induced haze.
Her hand dragged over her face, fingers icy against flushed skin.
Tanaka observed with clinical patience.
“Your job is to hand the pills to Wednesday, not to make her take them,” the doctor chided firmly.
The words struck like a slap.
Her pupils tightened, her expression shifted — just barely — a microsecond of ice in her eyes.
It wasn’t the reprimand that got to her.
It was the memory.
Wednesday’s hands on her jaw.
The weight.
The strength.
The controlled, surgical violence.
And above all… that expression. That calm.
Y/n clutched the bedsheets in her fist, her knuckles turning white.
Her breath short. Sharp.
“I…” she began, but her voice died in a whisper.
She couldn’t say anything.
She couldn’t allow herself to say anything.
As angry as she was — and God, she was — something held her back from the truth.
Fear?
Instinct?
Or that damn irrational trust she felt toward her?
She didn’t know.
And she didn’t want to find out right now.
Y/n slowly ran a hand through her hair, brushing a damp strand from her forehead. fingertips still trembled lightly. The world was less blurry than before, but every movement made her temples pound like drums.
She inhaled deeply.
Then, with a tired huff, she pushed herself into a sitting position.
“Ah… shit…” she hissed, pressing two fingers to the throbbing vein near her eye.
The nausea was almost gone, but the headache pierced straight through her skull.
Yoko approached, arms crossed but eyes worried. “You should lie down a bit longer, Y/n.”
“I’m fine,” the nurse lied, though her voice came out softer than intended.
She shifted to lower her legs off the bed…
…but Yoko’s next sentence hit her like a punch to the stomach.
“Oh, by the way… Wednesday was sent to isolation.”
Y/n froze Instantly.
Her breath locked between her ribs.
Her face darkened, eyebrows curving downward in a sharp, shadowed line.
She wasn’t surprised.
She wasn’t relieved.
She was… something more complicated.
A bitter pang, like a nail driven under her skin.
“ok,” she murmured.
And she stood up.
Too fast.
As soon as her feet touched the floor, a violent wave of dizziness clouded her vision. The world tilted 45 degrees. Her heart skipped, knees buckled.
“Whoa— Y/N!”
Yoko grabbed her arms and caught her, then placed a firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her back down with determined gentleness.
“Sit down!” she ordered, her voice firm as steel.
Y/n collapsed back onto the bed, breath short, pupils dilated as if someone had dimmed the lights.
A shiver ran across her shoulder blades.
Yoko sighed deeply, letting her shoulders drop.
“If you stand up like that, you’ll end up fainting on the floor again, and honestly I have no intention of picking you up a second time.”
Y/n tried to steady herself, swallowing hard. “I need… to check the patients… I have the shift…”
“Your shift will start after you stop wobbling like a drunk puppet.”
Yoko pushed her gently toward the pillows.
“Stay here. Rest at least ten minutes. Then you can move.”
Y/n opened her mouth, ready to argue.
But her body betrayed her: another sharp, pounding throb at her temples made her squeeze her eyes shut.
Yoko looked at her with a half-ironic smile.
“See? You can’t even argue properly with me, let alone go to the ward.”
Y/n exhaled weakly.
Tired.
Frustrated.
And with a sharp, twisting discomfort in her stomach at the thought of Wednesday in isolation.
Alone.
Restrained.
Watched.
Did she deserve it? Probably yes.
But the feeling was far from pleasant.
“Ten minutes,” she muttered, almost growling.
“Good girl.” Yoko tapped her shoulder lightly. “And don’t even think about running off. I’m watching you.”
Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, her chest still unsettled.
The thought of Wednesday came to her and a shadow of worry — small but real — crossed her face.
Why did she do it?
Taglist : @heartzfromluna @ownpurpose @elegantchaostiger @1223c @bunnaur1 @theallseer97 @likefirenrain @feensbrujo @raven-ss @azaleagardens @cleaningkit @hellenheaven @vivia-00 @lovelyy-moonlight @justjazzyjazz
