Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun had already climbed high above the sea, casting a golden shimmer across the soft waves and the breeze carried the warmth of summer in each breath. The beach was quiet, not crowded, just scattered with a few distant couples and families, which made it feel like it belonged to them alone — their little escape from the rest of the world. Tyler held Wednesday's hand as they walked across the warm sand, their towels and beach bag slung over his other arm. When they found a quiet spot, they laid everything down and slipped off their clothes to reveal what lay underneath. Wednesday, in her black bikini, looked like she'd stepped straight from a gothic dream. The contrast of the darkness of her suit and her pale skin was almost poetic. Tyler couldn't help but stare — his gaze caught on her curves, the sharpness of her collarbones, the way her dark hair swayed slightly in the breeze. And she, in turn, wasn't immune either. When Tyler peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and arms, muscles flexing casually with each movement, she felt her throat tighten slightly. Her eyes followed every motion of his hands, the ripple of strength under his skin. Distracting was the only word for it.

"Alright, black lace beauty." He said, flashing her that crooked smirk. "As much as I want to admire you all day, we should probably use sunscreen before we both regret it."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but sat down obediently. "Fine. Only because I don't feel like peeling layers of my skin like a horror film." She said.

Tyler chuckled, squeezing sunscreen into his hand and slowly spreading it over her shoulders and back. His touch was gentle, reverent — fingers trailing in slow, soothing circles. Wednesday's skin was cool at first, then warmed beneath his hands. She closed her eyes. Every brush of his fingertips sent a shiver down her spine. Then it was her turn. She pushed some sunscreen into her palms and pressed them against his broad chest, running them slowly across his skin. Tyler swallowed, keeping very still, but his breath hitched slightly at the sensation of her delicate fingers smoothing over his muscles.

They finished with smiles and a lot of subtle tension in the air and then settled into a kind of peaceful stillness. Wednesday curled up with her book, the pages rustling softly as the waves whispered in the background. Tyler slid his headphones on, closed his eyes, and let the sun melt into his skin. Almost an hour passed. The sun moved slowly overhead. Tyler hadn't moved a muscle. Wednesday turned a page, then glanced at him. Nothing. No twitch, no shift. He was lying perfectly still. She frowned, tickled his arm softly with her fingers. No reaction. She reached up, slid his headphones off. Still nothing.

"Tyler?" She whispered, almost suspicious.

Nothing. He was asleep. And he looked... adorable. The way his lips parted just slightly, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes rested on his cheeks. It was a rare thing to see him this vulnerable, this unguarded. She couldn't help herself. She watched him, her book forgotten, her heart softening with every breath he took. She reached out, gently brushing the curls off his forehead. Her fingertips lingered, drawing lazy circles over his temple, then down to his cheek. She smiled to herself. Her brave, protective Tyler — looking like a sleeping boy with sunlight painting him gold. After a few minutes, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Then another on his jaw. And another, closer to the corner of his mouth. Just as she was about to kiss him again, his eyes blinked open, slow and warm.

A sleepy smile curled on his lips. "Well, if this is how I get woken up now, I might never want to stay awake."

Wednesday's cheeks turned a little pink. She scoffed, trying to play it off, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. "You looked too peaceful to disturb."

"Oh, I was dreaming about you anyway." He murmured, stretching. "Waking up to you is just the upgraded version."

She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

He grinned wider, reaching out to take her hand. "You know, your blush kind of ruins the whole 'cold and mysterious' thing."

She shot him a mock glare, though her lips curved into a smile. "It's your fault for looking like a greek statue in the sun. Very distracting."

Tyler laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to her temple. "Guess I'll take the blame. But don't expect me to stop being distracting."

The sun was blazing high above, its golden fire painting their skin in a soft sheen of warmth. The sand was too hot beneath their foots now, a reminder that summer was at its peak — and Tyler glanced toward the water, then to Wednesday. She was already looking at him, that same glimmer in her eye — a silent agreement passing between them without words. She reached out, her delicate fingers slipping into his palm and he intertwined their hands as they started toward the water. The moment the sea wrapped around their ankles, Wednesday gasped. The cold was shocking against their sun-heated skin, a sudden contrast that made her shiver. Tyler immediately tugged her closer, his arms half-wrapping around her as they waded deeper.

"You okay, baby?" He murmured, his voice low and gentle near her ear.

She nodded but pressed herself against his side just a bit more. "It's cold. But I'll survive." She whispered, ever stubborn but trusting him to keep her warm.

Tyler smiled, brushing a strand of her damp hair off her face. "You always act tough but your body's too soft for cold water."

"I'm not made of stone." She replied, arching an eyebrow. "Despite popular belief."

Once they acclimated to the temperature, they swam lazily through the waves, the world soft and distant, the sounds of the sea muted and comforting. It was calm, peaceful. That rare, gentle kind of quiet only nature can provide. And then— a splash of water hit Tyler's chest. He blinked in surprise, only to find Wednesday's hand darting back beneath the surface like nothing had happened.

"Oh, you didn't just start this." He said, mock warning in his voice.

She gave a slow, sly smile. Another splash — this time larger, colder. She giggled — a sound so rare and precious that it made Tyler's heart twist. With a playful growl, he retaliated, flicking water her way with both hands and within seconds they were engaged in a full-on water war. Splashing, ducking, shrieking — laughter echoed over the waves, wild and free, neither of them caring who saw. It was the kind of moment that tasted like youth, like freedom, like the best kind of madness. Eventually, breathless and dripping, Tyler lunged forward and caught her, his arms wrapping around her waist. She gave a small, surprised yelp as he lifted her slightly, her legs brushing against his under the water, her arms flying up to hook around his neck.

"You're crazy." He said, smiling wide, his face inches from hers.

"I'm your kind of crazy." She replied, eyes gleaming.

He tilted his head. "My baby. My gothic beauty."

Wednesday blushed instantly and he didn't miss the way her body trembled in his arms — not from the cold this time. She stiffened slightly, almost embarrassed.

"Are you blushing?" He teased, leaning in closer. "You trembling, little one?"

She scoffed, eyes narrowing playfully. "It's the water."

"Sure, Wens." He chuckled, holding her tighter. "You don't always have to be emotionless with me, you know. You can just be a girl in love."

She went quiet at that, her hands slowly sliding to his cheeks. Her gaze softened, a look only he ever got to see."I'm not just a girl in love." She whispered. "With you... I'm the softest I've ever been. This love... it shattered all my walls."

Tyler's breath caught, something inside his chest twisting and aching. "Do you regret that?" He asked, voice quieter now.

She didn't let him finish. She shook her head slowly, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. "I would never regret loving you like this."

He swallowed hard. "Say it again."

"I love you, Tyler." She whispered, pulling his face closer. "So much."

Then her lips found his and the kiss they shared in the middle of the sea was nothing short of a promise. It was slow, deep, filled with every unspoken word, every emotion too vast for language. When they needed oxygen, they finally pulled apart, breathless and overwhelmed. And just like that, he was completely undone.

...

The wind kissed their damp skin the moment they stepped out of the water, sudden and sharp. Wednesday trembled, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself. Her black bikini clung to her like silk ink and though she'd never admit it, the cold sank quickly into her delicate skin. Tyler saw it instantly — the way her shoulders shook, the way her teeth just barely grazed her bottom lip.

"Baby..." He murmured, already sprinting toward their spot on the sand.

In seconds, he was back with the towel and wrapped it around her small frame, pulling her into him like a precious treasure. His arms enveloped her completely, shielding her from the wind. Her cheek rested on his chest, still damp and warm and he held her like the whole world depended on keeping her warm. She hummed softly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she soaked in the heat of his body and the weight of his care.

They made their way back to the blanket and sat together, her tucked in close as he cradled her in his arms. Time moved slow here, in this little slice of paradise where nothing else mattered — not the world, not the past, not the future. Just them, skin warmed by sun and hearts bursting at the seams. The warmth returned, the sun climbing higher and blanketing them both in heat once more. Wednesday slipped off the towel finally, her pale skin kissed now by warmth instead of chill. She stretched out beside him, her hair drying in soft waves across the blanket, her dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. They lay there, skin to skin, a stillness building between them — the quiet kind of tension that didn't need words. His fingers found her waist, slow and reverent, brushing along the sensitive edge of her ribs. She inhaled sharply, the contact so soft it felt like a whisper. A tremble ran through her again.

Tyler turned his head toward her, catching her eyes — half-lidded and dark, almost pleading. "I barely touched you." He whispered with a smirk, voice low like the sea at dusk.

She blushed and he leaned closer, lips brushing her temple first, then her cheek and finally down her jawline, each kiss barely there. Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling beneath his touch. The heat had nothing to do with the sun anymore. He touched her again — featherlight — his fingers dancing along her side, brushing over her stomach and she shuddered. Her hand gripped the edge of the blanket beneath them, knuckles pale.

"You're burning up." He whispered against her skin. "And I haven't even really started."

She bit her lip, trying so hard to keep her cool, to keep that signature Wednesday restraint but not with him. With him, she unraveled. She let him see her come undone.

"Stop smiling." She murmured, turning her head to him, trying to glare but failing entirely.

"I can't help it." He whispered against her lips. "You're beautiful when you tremble for me."

And then came the kiss — slow, aching, impossibly tender. The kind of kiss that carved itself into your bones. The kind that makes the world fall away. She sighed into it, fingers curling around the back of his neck, letting herself melt. They were on fire again — but this time, it wasn't painful. It was the sweetest burn. Her lips pulled away from his with a sound like heartbreak, her breath still caught between them. Her cheeks were flushed, her lashes low and she stayed close just a second longer than necessary — just enough to let him know it wasn't over.

Then she smirked. That deadly, knowing smirk that only Wednesday Addams could wear so beautifully. "You're impatient." She said with calm control, her voice low and amused as she sat up, adjusting the strap of her bikini with delicate precision. "And entirely too distracting."

Tyler blinked at her, still breathless, his heart thudding against his ribs like it was trying to break out. "I'm the one who's distracting?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You were the one trembling."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she was already on her feet, gathering her things with a composed little flick of her wrist. His eyes followed her movements — slow, confident and completely unfair.

"Come on." She called over her shoulder, that smirk still dancing on her lips. "We're not done with today."

He groaned quietly, dragging a hand through his damp curls, then stood and followed her like a man bewitched — because, truly, he was. Wednesday led him through the rocky part of the beach, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, warm and firm. There, nestled between shadowed cliffs, they found a strange little spot — half-forgotten and shrouded in seaweed and silence. And it was perfect. There was a washed-up wooden sign, almost illegible from age and salt. It looked like it might've once read something like "Do Not Enter"— but of course, to Wednesday, that was the best kind of invitation. They spent the next hour exploring, wandering in this eerie, deserted cove. She told him ghost stories with a gleam in her eye, invented tragic tales of star-crossed sailors and cursed shipwrecks. Tyler played along, adding his own twisted details and watching her eyes light up with pride like a stormy night sky. At one point she found an old, half-buried anchor and declared it belonged to a pirate who had sold his soul for revenge. Tyler grinned and told her she looked like she could've been the one he made the deal with.

Later, as they climbed back toward the open beach, the sun had started its descent. The sky was a masterpiece — bruised purples melting into orange, a bleeding horizon that set the waves on fire. Wednesday stood at the top of the slope for a moment, wind playing with her hair, the salt clinging to her skin. She looked like a dream — half angel, half ghost. Tyler came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"You always bring me to strange places." He murmured.

"You never complain."

"I never will."

They stood there together, watching the sun sink like a slow heartbeat into the water. And for a moment, time stopped. No tension. No teasing. Just love, so deep it ached. Tyler turned her gently to face him. He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheekbones.

"You're my favorite thing I've ever found." He whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Out of all the dark places, all the broken pieces, I found you."

Wednesday blinked, her walls lowering just enough to let it show — how much those words meant. She didn't reply. She didn't have to. She simply leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't time yet. But it was coming. And oh, when the sun finally dipped and they'd return home with hearts heavy and hands starving — there'd be nothing holding them back.

...

She hated how much she needed him. Not because it made her weak — Wednesday Addams was no stranger to pain, desire or even obsession. But because with Tyler, it was different. He didn't demand her softness. He simply waited for it, patient and quiet, like he knew it would come. And she hated how right he always was. Her back hit the door with a thud, his mouth already on hers before she could say a word and she let him. More than that — she needed him like air in her lungs. Her hands pulled at his T-shirt, yanking him closer, as if even the slightest space between them was unbearable. His fingers brushed up beneath her dress, warm and rough, and she shivered at the contact. Not from cold — but from the hunger that always twisted low in her stomach when he touched her like this. Like she belonged to him. Like he belonged to her. She kissed him harder, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, dragging a groan from deep in his throat. Her favorite sound. He backed them toward her bed, blindly, never pulling away, until she was straddling his lap, her hands buried in his curls, her breath sharp and uneven.

"Wednesday." He whispered, reverent. Like her name itself was a prayer he'd say until his last breath.

She pulled back just enough to look at him. His pupils were blown, lips swollen, chest rising and falling fast. And yet, he looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. "You're mine." She said lowly, brushing her nose against his. "You understand that?"

He nodded, but that wasn't enough.

"Say it."

"I'm yours." He breathed. "Completely."

Something in her cracked at those words. She leaned down and kissed him slower this time, her fingers tracing every line of his face, memorizing him. "And I'm yours." She said. "Even if it kills me."

Because it would. This love — they both knew it wasn't safe. It burned too hot, too deep. But she'd rather die with him than live a single breath without him. As his hands slid up her spine and their bodies moved in sync, she realized the truth of it again. She didn't just love Tyler. She was consumed by him.

Later, with their bodies tangled under soft sheets, hearts still racing but finally satisfied, Tyler held her close — his nose buried in her hair, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest.

He kissed her forehead and whispered with a smile. "Totally worth the wait."

Wednesday smiled too, eyes closed, her voice like velvet in the dark. "You always are."

Chapter Text

Theme : Weyler&Enjax have a party. In this one-shot Tyler attends Nevermore too and is a bestie with his roommate Ajax. All characters are 18-19 here.

The moon had just begun to rise over Nevermore when Wednesday stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a short black velvet dress that shimmered subtly in the light. Her hair, as always, was sleek and braided, but tonight she added a little something — black eyeliner, a rare deep plum lipstick, and a few rings that clinked gently on her fingers.

"Okay, I adore this version of you." Enid squealed, twirling in her sparkly pink mini dress, her curls bouncing as she sprayed perfume into the air. "We're gonna set the party on fire."

Wednesday arched a brow. "I prefer metaphorical fire."

Enid smirked. "With us? Could be both."

Meanwhile, Tyler stood in his room, buttoning up a deep charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to make Wednesday weak in the knees. Ajax was messing with his hair in the mirror, frowning.

"Do you think she'll like this?" He asked, gesturing to his white shirt and suspenders combo.

Tyler grinned. "Dude, Enid would like you in a trash bag."

"You're not wrong."

They all met outside and when Wednesday and Tyler saw each other, everything paused for a beat. He stared at her, absolutely entranced.

"You're... stunning." He said softly.

She looked away, cheeks just slightly pink. "You're not so bad yourself, barista boy."

...

When they arrived at the club, the four of them took their seats in the previously reserved booth and ordered shots. The music played in the background, some people already on the dance floor, but most of them were just getting there and ordering. After a few rounds of small talk and laughter, Enid clapped her hands.

"Alright! Never Have I Ever. You know the rules — if you've done the thing, you drink. Let's get to know each other... or expose each other!"

They sat in a loose circle, everyone a bit giddy already. Enid began. "Never have I ever... kissed someone in a cemetery!"

Wednesday's eyes flicked to Tyler. He raised his brows. Both sipped.

"Seriously?!" Ajax burst out laughing.

Wednesday shrugged. "Guilty."

Tyler winked. "Best night of my life."

Ajax's turn. "Never have I ever... worn someone else's underwear accidentally." Everyone looked at him surprised. "Eee...why are you looking like that?" He mumbled. "It was laundry day." He sipped.

Tyler grinned and took his turn. "Never have I ever... skinny dipped."

Enid and Ajax both sipped, giggling. Wednesday stared into space, then slowly took a sip.

Tyler choked. "You too?"

She simply smirked. "Secrets make life interesting."

Enid leaned forward, cheeks pink. "Okay okay — never have I ever... had a crush on a teacher."

"Enid!" Ajax groaned, blushing and drinking.

Wednesday raised her glass with terrifying calm. "It was more admiration than attraction. The man dissected a frog with his bare hands." Tyler chuckled.

Enid leaned forward, eyes glittering mischievously. "Never have I ever... kissed someone just to shut them up." Ajax raised his glass immediately.

Enid's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?! When?"

Ajax smirked sheepishly. "Last week. You were ranting about nail polish shades for like twenty minutes. I panicked."

Enid gasped but then dissolved into laughter, hitting his arm. "You snake!"

Ajax's turn came next, his grin sly. "Okay, okay — Never have I ever... gotten caught making out."

Enid shrieked, already sipping. "Ugh, Ajax, don't remind me! That janitor at Nevermore still won't look me in the eye."

Ajax laughed so hard his hair shook. "His expression was priceless."

Tyler glanced at Wednesday, a blush creeping up his neck. "Ugh my father caught us too many times to count."

Wednesday drank with perfect calm. "Poor Sheriff must be traumatised. But it's his fault for showing up at the wrong time. He even caught us in the middle of... you know what."

Ajax burst with laughter in disbelief, Enid's eyes nearly popped out of her head. " WHAT?!"

Tyler groaned, covering his face while Wednesday looked smug. "We weren't that loud." She muttered.

Enid, flustered, tried to lighten it up. "Alright! Last one! Never have I ever... whispered something inappropriate in someone's ear during class."

Tyler froze mid-sip and blushed. Wednesday drank without hesitation.

"Why am I not surprised ?" Enid sighed, while Ajax grinned, already imagining what made Tyler blush like that.

Wednesday leaned in. "Alright, one last round. Never have I ever... thought about doing something scandalous in a public place."

Every single one of them drank.

Enid choked on her laughter. "Oh my God, we're all disasters."

Wednesday set her glass down with eerie calm. "Correction: we're human. Passion is inconvenient, but unavoidable."

Tyler's hand slid under the table, finding hers and squeezing tight. His ears burned, his pulse thundering, but he only whispered. "Amen to that."

Enid's grin was wicked. "So... dance floor?" Ajax smirked, offering her his hand.

Tyler glanced at Wednesday, whose eyes were already burning into him like a match to gasoline. They didn't need to answer.

...

The moment they stepped into the pulsing light of the dance floor, it was like entering another world — bodies swaying to the rhythm, the beat vibrating through the floor, colored lights spinning overhead like some hypnotic spell.

Enid wasted no time. "Ajax, here." Her voice was breathy with excitement as she grabbed his hand and pulled him right into the crowd, her body already moving to the beat. He followed her with a dazed grin, both of them disappearing into the pulsing haze of lights and sound.

Tyler turned to Wednesday, who stood perfectly still for a moment, eyes scanning the movement. She looked impossibly sexy in her short black dress and dark lips, but there was a flicker of chaos behind her eyes. The alcohol had loosened something. Her cheeks were pink, her breathing just a little quick.The beat was thick and sensual, the crowd buzzing, but in the moment... it felt like it was only the two of them. They moved slow at first, swaying, close, not even trying to mimic the chaotic dancing around them. Tyler's hands found her waist instinctively, thumbs grazing the soft fabric of her dress as she swayed against him. Her arms slowly wrapped around his neck, pulling herself closer. Her body felt warm, soft, delicate in his arms. Then she stumbled slightly, her heel slipping just a bit — but he caught her instantly, steady and strong.

She looked up at him with wide, tipsy eyes, her lips slightly parted in a smile. "You're... warm." She said softly, like it was a secret.

"You're drunk." He teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Oh I'm fine." But her words slurred just enough to make his heart ache a little.

Still, she didn't let go. In fact, she pulled herself closer, her body pressing against his in a way that made his breath catch. The music surrounded them like a storm, but they didn't move much — they swayed in place, forehead to forehead now. The air between them was electric, thick with tension and warmth. Her hands played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, her lips brushing his cheek now and then as they moved, accidentally or maybe not.

Tyler leaned in, whispering against her skin. "I've got you, baby. Always."

And she didn't say anything, just gave a tiny nod, curling herself further into his chest. She melted there — her cool exterior undone by warmth, by music, by the way he held her like she was something precious. And in that moment, Tyler didn't care that they were in the middle of a dance floor, surrounded by strangers, sweat and flashing lights. Because he had her. Wednesday was in his arms — warm, flushed and forgetful of the world around them. Her hands were clinging to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, her cheek pressed against his chest one moment, her lips brushing his neck the next. Tyler could feel the way she trembled slightly when he held her tighter. But it wasn't fear. It was need.

"Wens..." He whispered, voice barely audible over the music. "You're really drunk, baby."

She tilted her head up and her eyes — dark and shining — locked onto his. There was no filter, no mask, just her pure, unguarded love looking up at him like he was the only thing she'd ever wanted.

"I don't care. You're here with me, I'm safe." She said softly, dragging her fingers down his chest, then pressing her lips to his jaw.

Tyler's breath caught. He could barely think. "Wens, we're still in the middle of a club." He murmured, pulling back just enough to look at her. "You never want to be vulnerable in front of people. What if you regret this tomorrow?"

Her fingers slid to the back of his neck again. "Do you not want me?" Her voice cracked just a little, a thread of insecurity threading through the drunk haze — and it broke him. He grabbed her face gently, his thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks, eyes locked with hers like they were the only two people left in the world.

"Is it even possible for me to not want you?" His voice trembled now, raw with emotion. "Wednesday, I'm madly in love with you. But I know you — I don't want you to wake up tomorrow wishing you'd pulled back."

She leaned into his touch, her lashes fluttering as she whispered. "I love you, Tyler. I want you... I always want you. I won't regret anything with you."

Something in her voice — the fierce conviction, the tremble of truth — undid every restraint left in him. He pulled her into his chest again, this time with no hesitation, no guilt. Their foreheads pressed together as they danced slowly, sensually, lost in a rhythm that wasn't even in the music anymore. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, his hands roaming gently along her back, holding her like something sacred. She pressed a kiss to his lips — slow, aching, like it held every word she never said out loud. And when he returned it, it was soft and deep and endless. They kissed in the middle of the crowd like no one was watching. And maybe no one was. Maybe the world really did disappear in that moment. Because there was nothing but them — two souls caught in a storm of love, fire and reckless devotion.

...

The moment they stepped outisde, the world shifted. The dim light of the streets wrapped around them like a secret as they started walking toward Nevermore. Wednesday stumbled a few times along the way, and Tyler caught her each time and helped her keep her balance. She laughed sweetly and he felt his heart swell with love. Finally, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her straight to her room. Her breath was warm on his skin, her lips brushing against his jaw like a promise she couldn't hold back anymore and he felt her whisper against his skin like she couldn't breathe without him.

"I want you, Tyler. I want you so bad, my love..."

She didn't say please — she never did. But her kiss was pleading. Her trembling hands, her soft sighs, the way she leaned her whole body into his — it said everything. And Tyler heard it. Felt it. He didn't tease this time. No smirk, no witty line. Just a soft smile, aching with love, as he laid her gently onto their bed like she was breakable, like she was porcelain in his hands.

"You have me, baby. All night. I'm not going anywhere."

And then he showed her. Not just that he wanted her — but that he loved her. Fiercely, fully, deeply. He didn't rush. He couldn't — not when she looked up at him like that, eyes already glassy from the weight of her feelings. He peeled away the layers between them slowly, reverently. Like each inch of her skin deserved a thousand whispered I love you's. His mouth left trails of kisses on her softest spots — the hollow of her throat, the curve of her stomach, the inside of her trembling thighs. And when his lips found her nip, her breath hitched so sweetly it made his chest tighten. She was falling apart in his hands, melting under his touch, her body responding like music written just for him.

"I c-can't Tyler, I can't wait anymore." She gasped, the tension making her voice break, her fingers curling into his shoulders.

He looked down at her, smiling softly. Her cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, body trembling. His incredible girl, burning from the inside out. "Alright, baby." He whispered. "No more waiting."

And when they finally made love, it was everything — slow, all-consuming, tender beyond words. Their bodies moved like they'd been made for each other, like time had stopped just to watch this. She clung to him, kissed him like he was her air and when he looked into her eyes, he saw her soul laid bare — the fear, the love, the ache, all of it.

"You're insufferable." She whispered breathlessly into his mouth, voice shaky and full of fire.

He laughed softly, not pulling away. "Yeah?" He murmured against her lips. "So maybe I should stop?"

Wednesday immediately pulled him closer, wrapping her arms possesively around his back, like she was trying to cage him. "Don't you dare."

Tyler couldn't help but laughed at that." So desperate, aren't we ? Come on baby, show me how much you need me."

With that Tyler started moving again, this time faster, adding his hand where she needed the most. And he got her completely helpless, moaning loudly and clinging to him, unable to think about anything else.

"Tell me Wednesday whose are you ?" He asked, needing to hear it.

"I'm yours... only yours my lovee..." Her voice was shaking and her heart raced wildly.

As she said it, he drove her to the edge, making her cry out and fall apart in his arms. She was catching her breath, unable to move, unable to say anything. Tyler kissed her forehead and covered them both with a blanket, pulling her into his chest. He loved seeing her like this — completely undone by him, surrendered to love, all his.

"Are you satisfied now, baby?" He teased gently, voice low, full of affection.

She turned her face into his chest, her cheeks going warm again. "...Tyler..."

"You're always so soft after our love-making. I love it." Tyler said, caressing her cheek.

" That's what you do to me... You make me feel like that." Wednesday replied quietly.

He cupped her flushed face, making her look at him. His expression softened, the weight of the night still in his heart.

"You don't ever get to ask that again, Wens. That thing you said at the club — Do you not want me?" He shook his head. "That broke me. Because I want you, every second, every version of you. Always."

She blinked and her eyes welled up — not from sadness, but from feeling understood. "Okay." She whispered.

And in that tiny word, he heard everything. He kissed her again, slow and sweet, as if to seal the promise between their lips: You'll never have to wonder again.

Chapter Text

The morning had barely broken, pale light seeping through the heavy curtains of Wednesday's room. Rain tapped steadily at the window, a metronome for the quiet rhythm of breath and heartbeat inside. Tyler stirred awake first, his arm instinctively tightening around her waist. Wednesday was already awake, of course — she always was — lying on her back, eyes wide open, as though she'd been waiting. Waiting for him to move, to look at her, to remind her he was still there.

"Morning." Tyler whispered, his voice low, husky with sleep. He pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in like he couldn't get enough. Which, in truth, he couldn't.

Wednesday tilted her head toward him, expression impassive but her voice betraying her hunger. "You should be afraid. I considered chaining you to this bed during the night so you wouldn't leave me."

Tyler chuckled softly against her temple. "And miss the chance to wake up with you? Not possible." His hand slid from her waist to her hip, pulling her flush against him. His tone darkened, possessive. "You're mine, Wednesday. Do you know how insane that makes me feel?"

Her lips curved into the faintest smile — her version of undone. "Insanity loves company." She turned, her eyes locking on his with lethal sharpness. "You're mine, Tyler. Entirely. Irrevocably. If anyone dares to think otherwise, I'll bury them alive."

The way she said it — flat, cold, sincere — made his heart race in his chest. He didn't doubt her for a second. He didn't want to. Their hands tangled, knuckles brushing as if they were memorizing every vein, every scar. Tyler kissed her palm, reverent, desperate. 

"I'm obsessed with you." He admitted, almost like a confession. "It's not healthy."

"Neither are arsenic or nightshade." Wednesday murmured, leaning in until their foreheads touched. "And yet they are my favorites."

He laughed softly, then kissed her — slow at first, then with the kind of hunger that spoke of months of bottled madness. She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, as though the idea of distance was intolerable.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Wednesday rested her head against his chest. "Look what you've turned me into. Exactly what I despised for years."

Tyler stroked her hair, his smile wicked. "But you love it."

She closed her eyes, conceding with silence. Outside, the storm raged on. Inside, Wednesday and Tyler clung to each other, perfectly content to remain tangled in their shared obsession — the rest of the world be damned.

...

Around noon, the Addams mansion was quieter than usual — just a soft storm brewing outside, rain tapping gently against the high windows. Inside, the air was thick with candlelight, shadows dancing across the grand gothic decor. Most of the family had scattered to their usual eccentric hobbies, leaving the grand parlor to just two people lost entirely in each other.

Wednesday was curled up on Tyler's lap on the ornate black velvet couch, legs lazily draped across him, her arms looped around his neck. His hands rested firmly on her waist, thumbs stroking slow, possessive circles through the thin fabric of her dress. They were kissing — not just softly, but like they needed each other. The kind of deep, drawn-out, breath-stealing kisses that made time stop.

Between kisses, he murmured against her lips, breathless. "Mine."

Wednesday smirked faintly, tugging at his hair. "Obviously."

He chuckled. "Say it."

She leaned in, her voice low and hot in his ear. "I'm yours. And you're mine, Tyler Galpin. If anyone so much as breathes near you, I'll destroy them."

Tyler groaned, clearly loving every second of it. "You're so scary when you're sweet."

She kissed him again, slower this time, softer. "I hate how much I need you."

"You love it." He teased.

"I do." She admitted. "It's disgusting."

They both laughed, still tangled up, still kissing like the world might vanish. Then, out of nowhere, Wednesday pulled back slightly and tilted her head, dark eyes glowing.

"You know..." She said thoughtfully. "I used to find my parents completely unbearable. Always kissing, always sighing, hopelessly obsessed with one another. I swore I'd never end up like them."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

She exhaled, pressing her forehead to his. "Now I'm a lovesick fool. Just like them."

He grinned, brushing his nose against hers. "It's probably an Addams tradition."

Wednesday looked at him for a long moment. Her heart did something unfamiliar — it swelled. And in a rare moment of softness, she asked. "Can I count that as a proposal?"

Tyler leaned in, kissed her slowly, meaningfully, then whispered against her lips. "Not just a proposal. A plan. We're getting married, Wens. As soon as we can."

She didn't smile outwardly, but her eyes did — in that piercing, secretive way only he ever saw. "Good. I was going to make you an Addams one way or another." She whispered.

What neither of them knew was that behind the heavy carved doors, Morticia and Gomez stood, watching through the small glass window — hands clasped, hearts swelling with joy.

Morticia leaned into Gomez's shoulder, sighing blissfully. "Ah, young love. She's just like I was."

Gomez beamed, eyes sparkling. "And he's completely doomed. Just like I am."

They chuckled, sharing a kiss of their own, before quietly slipping away — leaving the next generation of lovesick Addamses to their madness.

...

Wednesday and Tyler finally walked into the dining room — composed, at least on the outside. She was trying to look perfectly deadpan as always, but her slightly flushed cheeks betrayed her. Tyler was trying not to grin like a fool, failing completely. Everyone was already seated —Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley, even Uncle Fester — and they all exchanged quick glances, silently agreeing not to say anything... yet.

Gomez didn't even try to be subtle. "So, what were you two up to in the living room?"

Wednesday anwered too quickly. "Talking."

Morticia smirked knowingly. "Oh, I'm sure there was... some conversation."

Pugsley choked on his drink, his eyes watering. "Gross!"

Uncle Fester, grinned. "You kids and your hands... always somewhere interesting!"

Wednesday shot him a glare that could freeze lava. Tyler was turning redder than the wine in Morticia's glass.

Wednesday cleared her throat. "We were talking about philosophy. In a very... close manner."

Gomez turned to Morticia. "That's exactly what you said that one night in the crypt." Morticia just smiled knowingly.

Tyler tried to say something but Wednesday casually rested her hand on his thigh under the table — warning or comfort? He wasn't sure, but he shut up immediately. The rest of the dinner was filled with little smiles, way too many "accidental" romantic references from Morticia and Gomez, and Pugsley occasionally muttering things like "gross" while stuffing his face.

Eventually, Wednesday just leaned over to Tyler and whispered with a tiny smirk. "Next time, we lock the door." And Tyler nearly dropped his fork.

...

The dining room had emptied of plates, but the family lingered in the parlor. Candles flickered, throwing long, soft shadows across the ornate furniture. Outside, the storm had softened to a drizzle, rain pattering gently against the windows. Wednesday and Tyler sat side by side on the black velvet couch, trying with varying degrees of success to look composed. Wednesday's hands rested on her lap, knees pressed together — deliberately still, deliberately distant. Tyler's arm hovered near her back, lingering just enough that his fingers occasionally brushed against hers. Both were painfully aware of the subtle contact and struggling to maintain an air of casualness.

Pugsley, sprawled across the floor with his feet dangling over the edge of the rug, had been watching them with wide-eyed amusement. "You know..." He began, sprawled upside-down on the rug, chin propped in his hands. "You two are really, really bad at pretending."

Wednesday's head snapped toward him, her expression flat, dangerous. "Pretending what?"

"That you're not totally obsessed with each other." Pugsley replied innocently, grinning ear to ear. "You look like you want to jump his bones right here, right now."

Tyler choked on air. Morticia hid a smirk behind her hand. Gomez coughed loudly into his fist, failing miserably to disguise his laughter.

"Pugsley..." Wednesday's tone was razor-sharp, but her pale cheeks betrayed the faintest blush. "If you value your life, you will stop talking."

"Too late." Pugsley sing-songed. He rolled onto his stomach, feet kicking in the air. "Tyler, you're all stiff, like you're in trouble. And you sis..." He leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. "You keep brushing his hand with your thumb. You're basically a softie."

Tyler bit his lip, trying to hold in a laugh. His hand, traitorous, brushed hers again. She didn't pull away.

"Softie" Pugsley repeated with relish. "My sister is softie for her boyfriend."

Tyler leaned toward Wednesday, whispering under his breath. "Should we kill him?"

"Not tonight." Wednesday muttered. "It would be too obvious."

Pugsley grinned, utterly fearless. "See? That's couple talk. Murder and softness You're in deep."

Tyler couldn't help himself — he laughed, head dropping into his hand. Wednesday narrowed her eyes at her brother but couldn't quite smother the twitch of a smile tugging at her lips. Morticia and Gomez, watching quietly, shared a tender glance. Their daughter's composure was cracking, yes — but in the most beautiful way. And Pugsley, who once seemed destined to irritate her forever, now sat close to Tyler like an adoring younger brother. It was... perfect.

Gomez's voice was soft as he leaned toward Morticia. "They're... completely undone."

Morticia nodded, her smile barely visible. "And yet trying so hard to hide it. I think our daughter has finally met her match."

Pugsley jumped from the floor, crawling onto the couch next to Tyler as if he belonged there. "You know, Tyler, you're officially my favorite brother-in-law. Not that I have any other but still." He declared, plopping beside him and leaning against his arm. "And don't think I don't notice Wednesday trying not to bite her lip while looking at you. Classic moves."

Wednesday shot Pugsley a look meant to instill terror, but the corners of her mouth twitched despite herself. Tyler chuckled, ruffling Pugsley's hair. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I insist it is." Pugsley said solemnly. "Seriously, Tyler, you're the best. I've never thought my sis was able to fall in love. But apparantly she is. Don't mess it up."

"Oh you think you're so clever, don't you brother ?" Wednesday asked sarcastically.

" Thanks Pugsley. And no worries, I wouldn't dare to break a heart of someone as special as your sister. You have my word." Tyler declared.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but her heart betrayed her. She allowed a tiny smirk to form as she leaned slightly closer to Tyler, testing the boundary of casual proximity. Tyler's fingers brushed hers again, deliberate and gentle.

"See?" Pugsley clapped his hands like a delighted audience member. "What have I said? Perfect! Just perfect!"

...

After the playful chaos at dinner, things calmed down. Morticia suggested tea in the garden — her favorite twilight tradition, and the whole family slowly migrated out under the dreamy glow of lanterns and soft moonlight. Wednesday and Tyler found a quiet bench at the far end of the garden, tucked under a night-blooming cereus (Morticia's pride). The air was cool, stars peeking through the purple sky. Wednesday curled into Tyler's side, wrapped in his jacket, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her, instinctively pulling her close. It was peaceful, finally, and the warmth between them replaced all the earlier teasing tension.

She spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. "This... doesn't feel real sometimes."

Tyler turned to look at her, brushing a soft kiss to her temple. "It is. You and me, here — it's as real as it gets."

She sighed. "I never thought I'd want this. But I do. With you."

His thumb traced slow, affectionate circles on her arm. "I never thought I'd have this. But I do. With you."

In the distance, Morticia catched a glimpse of them from the path, her heart full. But she didn't interrupt. She just leaned against Gomez, who wrapped an arm around her.

Gomez murmured. "Our daughter is in love."

Morticia, smiling, replied. "And safe."

Later, the sky smeared with a velvet hue of deep blue and silver stars, the full moon casting long shadows across the old cemetery. The cold air bit  just slightly, but Tyler didn't mind — not when he was walking hand-in-hand with Wednesday Addams. She was calm here. Peaceful, even. Her steps were quiet, purposeful, like she knew every stone, every story etched into the earth. Tyler stole glances at her face, lit up by moonlight — she was beautiful in the eerie way he's fallen head over heels for.

"I like it here." She murmured. "It's honest, quiet. The only place people never lie."

Tyler chuckled softly. "And yet, I'm still alive and walking through it with you. How lucky am I?"

She stopped at an old, mossy grave. Something unreadable in her eyes as she turned to him — something soft but intense, that always made his heart clench in that stupidly painful and beautiful way. And before he could ask anything, she leaned in and kissed him. Right there. At her favorite grave. His eyes widened for a second, but then he melted into it, because of course he did. It was her.  Her fingers curled into his coat, his hands found her waist. The kiss was slow, weirdly tender for a setting surrounded by death.

When they finally broke apart, Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Was that... a graveyard kiss?"

Wednesday smirked. "It was perfect. Morbid, quiet, poetic. Don't tell me you didn't feel it."

"I mean... yeah. I just think this might officially be the weirdest place I've ever kissed someone." He said, shaking his head with a crooked smile. "I mean... you. Because there will never be anyone else."

She pressed her forehead to his, her voice low and velvety. "Of course no. You'll have to put up with me until one day we share a coffin. I've even chosen the perfect grave."

He laughed with disbelief, arms wrapped around the girl who redefined what romance means. "You WHAT ? You really chose a grave for us ? "

" Don't act so surprised Ty. I wanted to make sure our future home will be comfortable. My parents have their own too and I figured we couldn't be worse than them."

"God Wens... I knew you were such a romantic deep inside. I love it." As he said it, he leaned in for another kiss.

Later, they sat in the cemetery, hand in hand, under the weight of midnight fog. The world around them was quiet — too quiet — save for the rustling leaves and the breathless wind through the tombstones. 

Wednesday leaned her head on Tyler's shoulder, her voice no more than a whisper."Do you ever think about what happens when we die?"

Tyler didn't flinch. "I think about it a lot."

She turned to look at him, her pale fingers tightening around his. "Because I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving before me. Of being alone in this world. It would kill me." Her voice cracked, just faintly. "And if it didn't... I'd make sure it did."

Tyler's jaw tensed. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. "You'll never be alone. Even if death came for one of us, I'd chase it down and drag it back until we were together again."

She closed her eyes, breathing in the comfort of his nearness. "They'll find us, someday... lying side by side in our tomb. Like Romeo and Juliet — but darker. Better."

He gave a soft, bittersweet smile. "Promise me we'll share that grave."

She opened her eyes  and in them, nothing but certainty. "I already carved our names into the stone."

They kissed under the shadow of the moon, lips trembling with devotion too deep for life to hold. Because some love stories don't end with "happily ever after." They end with "forever." Even beyond death.

Chapter Text

Theme : Wednesday&Tyler are married and they went on a vacation.

It was the second day of their trip. They returned to the apartment just after sunset, golden light seeping through the windows and casting long shadows over the wooden floor. Tyler kicked off his shoes, his muscles pleasantly sore after a full day of walking through the moody, cobbled streets and twisted, charming corners of the town they chose for their getaway. He flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, watching Wednesday slip off her denim jacket. He looked at her, messy from the day, windswept hair and black top slightly creased, and still, he couldn't believe she was real.

"Long day." He said, stretching his arms behind his head. "We earned some lazy time."

Wednesday turned toward him slowly, like something had just sparked in her mind. She stepped closer, hands behind her back and tilted her head like a curious raven. "Tyler?" She asked in that soft, syrupy tone that always made him sit up a little straighter.

"Yeah, baby?" He answered instantly, already melting.

She reached out and cupped his face with both hands, brushing her thumbs along his cheeks. Her dark eyes sparkled with something unreadable, but definitely dangerous. "Will you take me out again?"

He blinked. "Tonight?"

"Yes." She whispered, nodding. "I want to go on a romantic date with my husband."

His brows rose, amused and already hooked. "Didn't we just spend all day out?"

She leaned in closer, brushing her lips against his, but barely. "I want you to see me in the dress I brought just for you."

Boom. Game over. Tyler was a goner. "I... yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll get ready." He said, flustered and already trying to remember where he put the one button-down shirt he packed.

She smiled, satisfied and turned on her heel. "Give me twenty minutes. No peeking."

Then she vanished into the bedroom. Inside, Wednesday shut the door behind her and immediately let out a tiny, triumphant smirk. This was all going according to plan. She peeled off her top and jeans from the long day, tossing them aside without a second glance. She moved toward the suitcase she had packed with military precision and unzipped the hidden compartment she hadn't shown Tyler. From inside, she pulled out the dress — black of course, satin, with a neckline that dipped like a slow temptation and fabric that clung to her waist like it had been tailored by the devil himself.
She slipped into it slowly, feeling the cool silk against her skin and then walked barefoot to the mirror. She touched up her makeup just slightly — dark eyeshadow smudged like smoke, a wine-stained lipstick that was just daring enough to make his brain short-circuit. Her hair, she left soft and undone, dark waves falling around her collarbones. When she was ready, she took a breath. Checked herself once more. Then opened the door.

Tyler was on the couch, scrolling his phone, dressed in black slacks and a clean, unbuttoned shirt he was still lazily fiddling with when the door clicked open. He didn't look up right away. But then he felt her enter the room. And when he lifted his eyes, he forgot how to speak.

...

The restaurant glowed with warm, low lighting. Soft jazz hummed in the background, candles flickered on polished tables, and chandeliers hung like constellations from the ceiling. It was elegant, intimate... perfect. But Tyler wasn't admiring the decor — he was too busy trying to breathe after what just happened. She had stepped out of that bedroom looking like a sin made silk. And now? She was sitting across from him, legs crossed, chin high, lips curled just slightly. A goddess draped in red, knowing exactly the effect she had. They sat at their table, menus barely opened, when the waiter approached — young, polite, and way too starry-eyed for someone just doing his job.

"Good evening." He said, smiling a little too wide. "May I take your order?"

"I'll have the grilled salmon." Wednesday said smoothly, voice low and confident. "With the lemon dill sauce. He'll take the steak. Medium-rare. Extra peppercorn."

The waiter blinked but recovered, clearly impressed. "Of course."

Tyler raised a brow. "You ordering for me now?"

"You were going to say steak anyway." She replied with a shrug, then turned her head just enough to meet the waiter's eyes again. "Thank you."

Tyler didn't miss the way the guy lingered. The way his gaze sticked to her like sap — slow and greedy. But Wednesday? She was pretending not to notice. Or pretending too well. The moment the waiter disappeared, Tyler's jaw tensed. His fingers twitched where they rested on the linen napkin. Wednesday turned to him, finally, eyes wide and curious like she was completely unaware. And then — her second move. She lifted her hand slowly, fingers brushing the edge of her neckline. Smooth, deliberate. She adjusted it just a bit — not indecent, no — just enough to make Tyler's lungs tighten like a noose. She didn't even look at him. But he was staring. Like he couldn't help it. Like she was gravity and he's been falling since the second she said "Take me out."

"You okay?" She asked sweetly, lips curved like a trap. "You look tense."

He cleared his throat, trying to speak past the heat rising in his neck. "Fine. Totally fine."

"Good." She said, casually sipping her water. "I was worried the day wore you out."

He watched her lips against the glass and silently understood. Oh, she was so playing him. And the worst part? It was working. Too well. Because now he knew — that whole innocent 'take me on a date' routine was a setup. A perfect, tailored, chess-move-level plan. And she was sitting there looking like an angel while holding every card. But Tyler Galpin? He's never backed down from a challenge. Especially not from his beloved wife.

...

The night air was cool but not cold, the city below glimmering like scattered stars in the dark. Soft music from the restaurant drifted faintly to the rooftop terrace, but up here? It was quieter. More private. Or at least it should be.

Tyler leaned on the back of the sofa, one arm slung casually as he took in the view. "Nice spot." He said softly. "Could stay here a while."

Wednesday hummed in agreement, standing beside him for only a moment longer... before turning and straddling his lap like it was the most casual decision in the world.

He blinked. "Wens—?"

But she was already leaning in, that devilish smirk painting her lips like a signature. Her fingers run over his shoulders, down his chest, slow and calculating. Her mouth brushed his — warm, electric, and dangerous — and he let out a small, involuntary sound in the back of his throat. Then she kissed him for real. Hard, deep. Like she was trying to steal the air straight from his lungs and maybe she was. And Tyler? His hands instinctively gripped her waist but then she catched them. Intertwined their fingers. Pushed them down to the sofa's cushion, pinning him there. Dominating, owning.

His back hit the seat and he stared up at her, breathless. "What are you doing?" He asked, voice strained, hoarse.

She didn't answer with words. She kissed him again. When she pulled back this time, his pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He was wrecked and she knew it. She could see it in the way his lips were slightly parted, his skin flushed, his thoughts scrambled.

"We're in public." He whispered, eyes flicking nervously toward the glass railing. "You're... Wens, we can't—"

Wednesday leaned in close again, mouth just beside his ear, breath tickling his skin. "Then stop me, if you can."

Oh, he absolutely couldn't. And she knew it. So she gave him one final kiss — this time slow, deep, torturously sensual. The kind of kiss that makes your knees weak and your soul float somewhere just above your body. When she finally pulled away, his head dropped back against the couch and he just breathed, like he was trying to remember how.

"I'll be at our table." She murmured, voice soft, smoky and way too smug. "Come join me... when you can stand."

And then she slipped off his lap like a goddess made of sin and silk, leaving Tyler sitting there completely helpless. Like he's been through something spiritual and slightly illegal. It took him minutes to recover. And oh, he wasn't letting this end here. Because now the hunter in him stirred — the one that only came out when she challenged him. And tonight? Wednesday Addams-Galpin just declared war.

He straightened his shirt, still catching his breath and muttered under it. "Alright, my love. You wanna play games? Challenge accepted."

He showed up at the table like nothing happened. Calm, collected, smiling... maybe too politely. Wednesday immediately sensed it. His eyes didn't burn like they did before. He leaned in across the table, voice low, eyes locked on hers.

"You look incredible tonight." He murmured, voice rich with promise. "Every guy in this place has been watching you. Especially that waiter."

Wednesday tilted her head, smirking. "Not my fault I'm irresistible."

"No." Tyler agreed."It's mine. I married you. I get to take credit for this level of temptation." Then he suddenly shifted, leaned a little closer, tone dipping darker. "But you know what's really unfair?" He asked, slowly tracing the rim of his glass with one finger. "How you can sit across from me after what you did upstairs... looking like that... and expect me to behave."

Wednesday's smirk flickered. "Maybe that's beacuse I don't want you to behave... Maybe I want to see what happens if I push too much."

"Oh yeah? Then just wait till we get to our apartment." Tyler replied with a seductive smirk.

He leaned back in his chair, staring, unapologetically. Like he was stripping her with his eyes. Like he was memorizing every inch of her. And then he started his game. He suddenly turned the flirt on hard. The next time the waiter came around? Tyler was polite, sweet... but now he was the one putting on a show. Hand casually on Wednesday's shoulder. Fingertips gliding up and down her bare arm as he spoke. Voice soft, intimate. And she knew what he was doing. She knew and couldn't wait for more.

...

Later, in the elevator back up to their apatment, he stood just behind her. Breath hot on her neck. Not touching her. But so, so close. A heavy silence fell between them.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away with that, did you?" He murmured. "You knew exactly what you were doing back there."

She smirked, not turning around. "Did I?"

His breath brushed her neck now. "Mhm. Sitting on my lap. Kissing me like that. Leaving me a wreck in public."

He finally let one hand glide up her bare arm slowly. She shivered."Thought you had the upper hand, didn't you?"

Now she turned her head just slightly, lips curving."I did."

He chuckled darkly, moving even closer, body barely grazing hers from behind. "No, baby. You woke something up."

She started to respond, but he grabbed her waist, spun her gently to face him and caged her against the mirrored wall. His hands planted on either side of her. His eyes were burning. She was not used to seeing him like this — so in control.

"Your little game ends here." He murmured, leaning in until their lips were just barely apart. "Because now... it's my turn."

Her breath hitched. And then? He kissed her. Not gently. It was fierce, deep and possessive. The kind of kiss that claims. That undoes. One hand slid down to her thigh, lifting her leg just enough to press her against the wall as he kept her there, completely at his mercy. She moaned against his mouth and his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head to kiss her deeper, harder. The elevator hummed with tension, with heat. They broke for air, panting.

The elevator stopped. Their floor. He stepped back, casually fixed his shirt and offered his hand with a smirk."You coming, Mrs. Addams-Galpin?"

And she was left there, breathless, undone and absolutely ruined already. But this game? Oh, it was just getting started. The second the apartment door closed behind them with that soft, decisive click, it was like the air shifted — charged, electric, dangerous. Tyler didn't give her time to move, didn't give her time to recover from what had happened in the elevator. He dropped the keycard on the table like it was nothing and turned to face her, already walking toward her with that slow, confident stride — eyes locked onto her like she was his prey now. Wednesday? She was standing in the middle of the room, trying to keep her cool, but her heart was pounding, throat dry, chest rising and falling in unsteady rhythm.

"You alright there, Wens?" He asked, voice low and teasing, already unbuttoning his shirt. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She lifted her chin. "You got lucky in the elevator. That's all."

Tyler hummed. "Hmm. Luck's not what had you gasping against the wall."

She narrowed her eyes, but she didn't stop him when he stepped into her space again, when his fingers trailed up her arms and landed gently at her waist.

"And now..." He murmured, dipping his head to her ear. "It's my turn to ruin you."

Wednesday barely had time to react before Tyler's lips crushed against hers, taking control of the kiss with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hands moved to her back, one slipping under her dress, pulling her closer as their bodies aligned, his chest pressing against hers. She could feel the heat from him, his pulse erratic against her skin. Her hands moved instinctively to his chest, then down his torso, but Tyler caught her wrist, pinning it above her head, holding her in place. Her smirk deepened, but it was quickly wiped away as Tyler's lips traced down her neck, kissing, biting, marking her skin with an intensity she hadn't expected. He was rough, but not unloving. He had taken control, but in a way that made her whole body burn.

He pulled back, his lips brushing against her ear. "You wanted to dominate me, Wens?" His voice was low, teasing. "Let's see how you handle it when you lose control."

Before she could even think of a response, Tyler had her spun around, pressing her back to the wall as he kissed down her spine. Every movement he made was deliberate, measured and as his lips reached the small of her back, he took a moment to appreciate the way she shivered under him.

" Tyler..." She didn't even try to fight for control. She loved what he was doing to her and wanted more.

"I want you helpless tonight." He growled softly, his lips brushing against her ear again, sending a wave of heat through her. "You wanted to test me. But now... you're going to let me break you."

Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he stepped back to admire the scene — her beautiful, helpless and completely at his mercy. He was savoring this, the way her body was begging for more, the way she was already melting under his touch. He leaned down, kissing her again, hard, as he undid the back of her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a single movement. She was exposed to him, vulnerable, but it only made her more beautiful in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He murmured, his hand tracing the curve of her body, and it was there — the raw vulnerability in her eyes that made him fall deeper. He couldn't help but kiss her again, his hands now free to explore every inch of her, mapping her body as though he were drinking her in.

He lifted her with one smooth movement — hands firm on her thighs — and her arms instinctively locked around his neck. She let out a breathless laugh, one that died in her throat when he carried her to the bed and laid her down like she was something precious. But the way he looked at her? It wasn't soft anymore. It was hungry.

"You wanted to play games, but now we play my rules." He whispered, pressing a kiss just below her jaw, his curls brushing her cheek.

His hands slid along the curve of her body, deliberate, slow, but she saw the tremble in them —he was still completely, totally undone by her. But now? He was going to make her feel it. Every second of how much she wrecked him. And Wednesday wouldn't have it any other way. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as he hovered over her, his body covering hers. Then, he finally let go of her wrists, but she didn't have a chance to move before he was kissing her again, his lips trailing down her chest. She was his, every inch of her, and tonight — he was going to prove it. When he finally reached for the clasp at the back of her bra, he did it with worshipful slowness. The fabric fell away and he paused, head cocked, drinking her in. He lowered his mouth to one nipple, kissing and sucking, coaxing a small, ruined sound from her. Wednesday's hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer as if he were the only relief she'd known.

"You like that?" He asked, voice rough.

She swallowed."I love it. I love you." She whispered. "Mmm Tyler..."

He spread her thighs gently and kissed down the line of her stomach before settling between them. When his lips found that place, it was no longer about restraint. His tongue worked with deliberate artistry, worshipping her, tracing patterns that undid the last bits of her composure. Wednesday clenched, cried out and then begged — low, frantic pleas that braided with his name. He paid attention to everything: the hitch in her breath, the way her hips lifted when he flicked a certain way, how her fingers tighetend on his curls.

"That's what you've been waiting for? The date was just an excuse. Admit it, you wanted me to remind you what I'm capable of. You love when I'm dominating." He breathed against her, and his hands moved to steady her hips so he could keep scraping sensation after sensation across her skin.

"Yess..." She couldn't deny it."I wanted you to show me that I'm yours."

"You are mine. Always. No one else will ever touch you, Wednesday. Only me."

That was it — she came apart under him — hard, a shuddering collapse into white light and trembling limbs. Tears sprang unbidden to the corners of her eyes as waves rolled through her, and Tyler held nothing back. He listened to every cry, memorized each break in her voice, as if carving it into his memory. When she'd sobbed out the last gasp and laid trembling, he didn't leave. He climbed up to kiss her mouth, tasting her, then drew back to look at her with something dangerously tender. No hesitation, no pause — he undid himself, his own need obvious in the flex of his jaw and the heaviness of breath. Wednesday reached for him, fingers urgent, palms pressing into him as he positioned himself. He entered her in a single, hard thrust that made both of them cry out.

As they moved together it was rough and tender and utterly unhinged. Tyler's hands were everywhere: sliding under her thighs to pull her up, gripping her hips so his pace could be relentless. Wednesday's nails left crescent marks across his back. Her legs were wrapped around him, drawing him deeper until the only thing real was the shock of skin against skin and the moans of their names. When they came, it was not gentle, it was a fevered breaking. Tyler rolled to his side and pulled her to his chest, forehead against her temple, the aftershakes making them both breathe raggedly. Wednesday's arms looped around him, clutching him like an anchor, burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder where she could still hear his heartbeat—steady, relentless. They were tangled up, breathless and laughing.

" Now I'm ruined... and happy." She whispered into his skin.

"Okay... that was not on the itinerary." Tyler replied, grinning.

"You didn't check the fine print, Mr. Galpin. This trip is all-inclusive." Wednesday smirked mischeviously.

"I should have expected that. My wife is an Addams." He kissed her forehead and for the millionth time in his life — he felt impossibly grateful for that incredible woman that he got to call his wife.

Chapter Text

The pale morning light crept through the tall curtains of Wednesday's bedroom, spilling across tangled sheets where two figures lay entwined. Tyler stirred first, his face buried in her hair, inhaling that sharp, ink-dark scent that was hers alone. Wednesday's head rested on his chest, her hand clutching the fabric of his shirt as if daring him to vanish. For a moment, the world was perfectly silent — the kind of silence that made Wednesday's pulse steady instead of restless. She opened her eyes, tilting her chin up and caught him staring at her with that maddening adoration she'd never get used to.

"You're staring." She murmured, voice low but steady.

"I think I'm addicted." Tyler said softly, thumb brushing her cheek.

A rare smirk tugged at her lips. "Pathetic." But the way her fingers curled against him betrayed how unwilling she was to move.

Tyler leaned down, pressing a kiss against her mouth — slow at first, then deepening when she hooked a hand behind his neck. Morning quickly became irrelevant as their breaths mingled, the kind of kiss that would've scandalized even the shadows in her room. And then the door creaked open.

"Ugh. Gross."

Both froze, lips still dangerously close. Wednesday twisted around just in time to see Pugsley standing smugly in the doorway, arms crossed, a wicked grin plastered on his face. "You two are worse than Mom and Dad." He declared with a laugh. "At least they wait until after breakfast before making the rest of us sick."

Wednesday's eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. "Leave. Before I make your intestines into a skipping rope."

Pugsley only leaned against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Nope. This is too good. Look at you, Wednesday — all soft and cuddly. You said you'd rather drown in tar than cuddle anyone."

Tyler's laugh rumbled in his chest, and instead of looking embarrassed, he actually encouraged it. "He's not wrong." Tyler teased, brushing his nose against her temple just to rile her further.

Pugsley cackled. "Oh, finally someone who can handle her."

"Handle me?" Wednesday snapped, already climbing out of bed with murder in her eyes.

"Yep." Pugsley said, already darting back down the hallway. "Mom! Dad! Wednesday's gone soft!"

She snatched the nearest pillow, hurling it at him with deadly precision. It missed by an inch as the boy disappeared with shrieks of laughter echoing through the halls. Wednesday stood there fuming, fists clenched at her sides, before she turned back to Tyler — only to find him grinning, utterly at ease.

"You're supposed to hate him just like I do." She deadpanned.

Tyler shook his head, still chuckling. "No way. He's the little brother I never had. Plus, it's fun watching you get flustered."

Wednesday's lips parted, ready to deny it, but Tyler caught her hand, tugging her back toward the bed. "Come on." He murmured, kissing her knuckles. "Let him laugh. I'd rather stay here and suffer your wrath."

Her glare softened, though just barely. "You're insufferable as always."

...

The family decided to spend the morning in one of their favorite eccentric traditions: Garden Exploration & Danger Training. Pugsley dragged Tyler toward the courtyard full of hidden traps and obscure inventions. "If you survive my spider-net contraption." He warned with a mischievous grin. "You will prove you are truly worthy of my sister's hand."

Tyler laughed, willingly diving into the chaos. Wednesday followed, still keeping one eye on him, one eye on her brother, trying to maintain composure while secretly enjoying every little daring smile Tyler gave her. Meanwhile, Morticia guided Gomez through a slow, dramatic dance between the flowerbeds, almost like a tango. Tyler and Wednesday had to step carefully around them, avoiding colliding with the couple's swirling arms and Gomez's theatrical spins.

"They're setting the bar impossibly high. But that doesn't mean we won't compete. After all, we both love a challenge, don't we, baby?" Tyler whispered to Wednesday, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

By midday, they were sprawled in the parlor, sipping oddly-colored teas and nibbling on pastries that looked like miniature tombstones. Gomez regaled everyone with the tale of how he and Morticia once outran a pack of wild boars during their honeymoon (it was mostly dramatized, but Tyler hung on every word).

Pugsley took advantage of every lull to poke at Wednesday and Tyler. "You two are like Mom and Dad! But... somehow spicier."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. "Pugsley—"

Tyler laughed, squeezing her hand and whispered. "He's our biggest shipper." Wednesday's cheeks warmed, though she kept her usual poker face.

By late afternoon, the storm had cleared entirely, leaving a misty sun filtering through the tall windows. The family lounged in various corners of the parlor: Morticia knitting something that resembled black vines, Gomez dramatically reading poetry aloud, Pugsley sprawled on the floor dissecting a mechanical toy, and Uncle Fester tinkering with small explosives.

Wednesday finally allowed herself to rest against Tyler, letting his arm circle her shoulders. She whispered, almost to herself. "It's...think I don't hate my family this much anymore. I'm probably losing my mind."

Tyler looked down, brushing her hair behind her ear. "How does it feel?"

She smirked faintly, glancing at her parents whispering confessions in the corner. "It's strange. But I... understand. This is what you do to me. Everything they are, I feel for you."

Tyler's grin was slow, wicked and satisfied. "Then I guess that makes us... perfectly normal Addamses."

" I really have to marry you soon or you won't shut up about being an Addams." Wednesday pretended annoyed, but her heart secretely fluttered at the thought of calling Tyler her husband.

Pugsley, overhearing, wrinkled his nose. "Ew. You two are disgusting. But... I love it. You're officially my favorite couple ever. And btw I want to be your groomsman Tyler."

Wednesday gave him a mock glare, Tyler laughed openly and Morticia and Gomez shared a private, satisfied look. Their daughter had found someone who could love her entirely and the next generation of Addams chaos was thriving perfectly.

...

The storm outside howled and rattled the high windows, but inside the Addams mansion the fire roared, candles glowed, and shadows stretched long and alive across the grand parlor. Morticia, with her usual grace, had declared it a perfect evening for family time — and so, for once, everyone had gathered together in one place. Wednesday and Tyler sat side by side on the black velvet sofa. They weren't touching, not in any obvious way, but the tension was unmistakable. Their shoulders brushed, their hands lingered too close on the cushions, their glances lingered a beat too long. To anyone else, they might have looked perfectly composed. But to Morticia and Gomez — seasoned experts in lovesick obsession — it was blindingly obvious.

Gomez clapped his hands, brandy in one. "Let us begin the evening properly — with stories! The most romantic, or the most deadly tale from one's life. Family only... and future family." He winked dramatically at Tyler.

Morticia's lips curved, eyes sparkling. "What a splendid idea."

Uncle Fester nearly toppled off his chair in excitement. "Oh, oh, I'll go first! Remember when I stuck my tongue in the faulty light socket? Sparks everywhere. Nearly died. Best first kiss I ever had."

Everyone groaned. Tyler laughed nervously. Wednesday didn't blink. "Interesting."

Pugsley piped up eagerly. "My turn! Once, sis let me borrow her weapon. I only hit myself twice before I nailed the raccoon. Mom stuffed it for me. Best day of my life."

Tyler raised his eyebrows, impressed. "That's... actually kind of awesome."

Pugsley beamed at him. "Thanks, Ty! You'd have loved it. Next time you can help me set the traps."

Wednesday cut in, deadpan. "Over my dead body."

"Exactly." Pugsley chirped.

"Now my turn." Gomez pressed his hand to his heart, locking eyes with Morticia. "The night I first kissed you, Tish. In the cemetery, among the crypts, with the moon as our witness. I swore on the bones beneath us that I would never love another. And I never have."

"Mi amor." Morticia breathed, taking his face in her hands. They kissed passionately, oblivious to anyone else.

Pugsley made gagging noises. Wednesday looked away, pretending not to notice. Tyler almost smiled, but stopped himself when her hand brushed his under the table. A warning or a plea. Or both.

Pugsley, meanwhile, leaned toward Tyler with a grin. "So... your turn. What's your deadly-romantic story?"

Tyler hesitated, suddenly very aware of all the Addams eyes on him. He swallowed. "Uh... well. Honestly? The deadliest, most romantic thing I've ever done was fall in love with your sister. Ever since we met at the coffe shop and she fixed my espresso machine because she could read Italian, I've lost my mind over her." The room went silent for a second. Wednesday froze.

Fester slapped his knee. "Ha! Doomed already, poor guy."

Then Gomez exploded with joy. "Magnificent! The boy gets it!" Morticia smiled knowingly.

Pugsley snorted. "Gross. But kinda cool. You're brave. You've seen her throw knives. And you're still in love? Respect."

Wednesday released Tyler's hand only to cross her arms, glaring at her brother. "Don't encourage him."

"Too late." Pugsley said happily. "I already adopted him as my brother-in-law."

Tyler blushed scarlet. Wednesday looked like she wanted to bury Pugsley alive. Then, she finally moved, leaning just slightly against Tyler, her dark eyes daring anyone to comment. No one did — not out loud, at least.

After stories, they played the family's favorite game: Mortuary Rummy. Pugsley cheated shamelessly, stuffing cards up his sleeve. Fester tried to play with matches instead of tokens until Morticia calmly confiscated them. Gomez narrated his every move with a flair fit for theater, while Morticia destroyed them all with quiet elegance. Tyler lost spectacularly, but didn't mind — mostly because Wednesday whispered ruthless strategy into his ear every round, just to keep him focused on her instead of the cards.

"That's because you keep staring at Wednesday instead of the cards." Pugsley teased loudly, sprawled across the table.

Tyler nearly dropped his cards. "What? No, I—"

"He does." Fester cut in gleefully. "Look at him. Puppy dog. Totally whipped."

Wednesday's death glare swept the room. It might've worked, too, if not for Pugsley smirking and adding. "It's cute though. Our Wendy finally has a boyfriend. And he's cool."

Wednesday kicked Pugsley under the table. Hard. He just grinned wider. Then it was time for another game — the one supposed to test how well they know each other.

...

Question 1: "Who's most likely to adopt a pet spider?"

Everyone answered in unison. "Wednesday."
She shrugged. "I already have three."
Tyler looked at her, surprised. "Wait, three?!"
Wednesday smirked. "One lives in your sock drawer."
Tyler slowly pulled his legs up.

Question 2: "Who's most likely to start a fire — accidentally or not?"

All eyes slowly tured to... Uncle Fester.
Fester spoke with zero remorse. "That one time with the toaster was a learning experience."
Gomez clapped him on the back. "And our walls still smell like adventure!"

Question 3: "Who's most likely to cry during a love song?"

Morticia glanced at Gomez. Gomez dramatically wiped an imaginary tear. "When Besame Mucho plays, I weep... for the poetry of her existence."
Wednesday looked at him annoyed. "I'm leaving."
Tyler stopped her. "Don't. It's honestly adorable."

Question 4: "Who's most likely to get arrested for something ridiculous?"

Everyone pointed at Pugsley.
Pugsley raised his hands innocently. "It was one frog experiment."
Wednesday's tone was serious. "You glued it to the mayor's car."
Pugsley shrugged. "...Science has no rules."

Question 5: "Who's most likely to start a cult?"

Everyone hesitated... then slowly, cautiously, pointed at Wednesday.
Wednesday smirked. "It wouldn't be a cult. It would be a society. A dark, poetic, painfully devoted society."
Tyler looked at her, fascinated. "Can I join, darling? "
Wednesday placed a hand on his cheek. "You already have, my love."
Pugsley twisted his face. "Ugh... you two are disgustingly sweet. Get a room."

Question 6: "Who's most likely to write dramatic poetry at 3 AM?"\

Wednesday said proudly. "Tyler. He's worse than you, Father."
Morticia smiled, dreamily. "Ah, young obsession. It's beautiful."
Gomez declared dramatically. "He is a poet of pain!"
Tyler, buried his face. "Okay let's not..."

Question 7: "Who's most likely to accidentally summon a demon?"

Pugsley already rised his hand. "I was just trying to make the lights flicker—"
Wednesday looked at him reproachfully. "You opened a portal."
Morticia was full of understanding. "Sweetie, it happens."
Gomez said proudly. "My boy's growing up."

Question 8 : "Who's most likely to get lost in their own house?"

Everyone slowly turned toward Uncle Fester.
Fester looked helpless. "This place is a maze! The walls move!"
Wednesday sighed with disbelief. "You were in the broom closet for four hours."
Fester didn't see the problem. "It was cozy."

Question 9: "Who's most likely to overreact dramatically?"

Gomez. Without question.
Gomez clutched his chest. "How dare you imply I'm dramatic—"
Morticia stroked his arm. "They're not wrong, my heart."
Tyler whispered to Wednesday. "He's my favorite."

Question 10: "Who's most likely to sing to their plants?"

Everyone stared at Morticia.
Morticia explained elegantly. "Photosynthesis responds best to serenades."
Wednesday commented. "And now we know why the roses bite."

Question 11: "Who's most likely to get into a bar fight over someone they love?"

Tyler looked sheepishly guilty. Wednesday looked smug.
Wednesday explained proudly. "He almost punched a guy for calling me 'weird.'"
Tyler smiled. "No regrets."
Morticia was teary-eyed. "True devotion..."

...

The fire in the parlor had burned low, shadows climbing the walls. One by one, the family drifted off — Pugsley yawning dramatically as he vanished upstairs, Fester mumbling gleefully about 'experiments' as he disappeared into the cellar. Morticia and Gomez were whispering to each other in Spanish as they tidied the cards. That left Wednesday and Tyler, side by side on the velvet sofa, stiff with restraint. She sat perfectly composed, hands folded neatly in her lap. He mirrored her stillness, but his knee brushed hers every few moments — a spark that nearly undid them both.

The instant the family was gone, Wednesday stood abruptly, eyes like daggers, and seized his wrist. "Come."

He followed wordlessly, pulse racing, as she dragged him down the endless hallway lined with oil portraits of long-dead Addamses whose stares seemed almost approving. She shoved him into a smaller drawing room and shut the heavy door with a decisive thunk. Her mask shattered. She launched at him, lips crashing to his with a violence that was all hunger and desperation. His back hit the wall and she pressed against him, nails digging into his shirt, claiming every inch she could touch. Their kiss was feral, hot, tongues sliding, teeth clashing, until he groaned into her mouth like he was breaking apart.

"Oh Wens." He gasped between kisses, hands roaming — up her spine, gripping her waist, sliding lower until he could drag her flush against him. "I thought I was gonna lose my mind in there, pretending I didn't want to touch you."

"I almost stabbed my brother just to shut him up. Do you have any idea what it did to me, sitting next to you, acting composed?" She whispered sharply against his lips. "Pretending to care about conversation, when all I wanted was this—"

She cut herself off with another hungry kiss, biting his bottom lip until he hissed. He answered by cupping the back of her thigh and hauling her against him, until there was no space between them and they both felt the heat. She gasped, sharp and low, as his teeth grazed her throat.

"Say it." He growled against her skin, voice wrecked. "Say you're mine."

Her head tipped back, eyes dark, lips parted. "I'm yours." She whispered, fierce and trembling. "Completely. Irrevocably. I'd burn the world before I'd let you go."

His mouth crashed to hers again, swallowing her confession, kissing her like a man possessed. Every sound she made — sharp little moans, ragged breaths, the scrape of her nails down his neck — only fueled his madness. They both felt their desire grow and Wednesday slipped her hands beneath jus hoodie to touch his skin, when suddenly they both heard a voice.

"Wednesday?" The voice was smooth velvet. Morticia. They froze.

Gomez's booming delight followed. "Madre de Dios!"

They tore apart just enough to turn their heads. Morticia stood in the doorway, serene and amused, while Gomez's eyes sparkled with glee like a man who'd just witnessed the perfect duel. Wednesday's lipstick was smeared, Tyler's hair mussed. Both of them were breathing like they'd fought a war.

"You were not supposed to see this." Wednesday said icily, though her voice was still rough with desire.

Morticia tilted her head, smiling knowingly. "On the contrary, darling. It's... heartening."

"Consumed!" Gomez declared, throwing his arms wide. "She's consumed, just as I am by you, cara mia!"

Tyler went crimson. Wednesday narrowed her eyes like she could kill them both where they stood.

Morticia's voice softened, warm and proud. "You've found your match, my little viper. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yet everything to despise." Wednesday muttered, sliding to the ground, smoothing her dress as if nothing had happened.

Gomez clapped Tyler on the shoulder with dramatic flourish. "Welcome to the family, boy. May your suffering be eternal."

The parents glided away, leaving only the echo of Morticia's amused laughter. Silence.

Tyler ran a hand through his wrecked hair, still trying to catch his breath."Well. That wasn't mortifying at all."

Wednesday turned to him, eyes still burning, and spoke flatly. "They won't survive to tell anyone. But now..."

Then, without hesitation, she kissed him again — reckless, devouring, as if the interruption had never happened.

Chapter Text

Tyler and Wednesday met in the forest at midnight. Moonlight filtered through the trees. They were both soaked, breathless, hearts pounding.

"You shouldn't be here." Tyler said in a low voice.

Wednesday stared at him, not moving. "And yet here I am. Disappointing everyone as usual."

Tyler stepped closer, his chest rising and falling, eyes locked on hers like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. "This isn't a game, Wednesday. If anyone sees us—"

Wednesday cut him off. "They won't. And if they do..." She tilted her head, voice dipping like velvet over blades. "Let them burn with envy."

A beat. Rain began to fall harder. Neither of them moved. The space between them felt electric. He reached up slowly, like she might disappear if he moved too fast, fingers brushing her cheek, tracing a line of water down her jaw. Her skin was cold, but her eyes blaze.

"Every time I think I can stay away from you... you do something like this."

Wednesday kept her composure, but the look in her eyes was betraying her. "I didn't drag you out here. You came running."

That's when it happened — that snap. He pulled her in like he was drowning and she was air, crashing his lips against hers, all heat and desperation. It wasn't gentle. It was warfare with mouths. It was don't-let-me-go, not even for a second. She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer like she wanted to crawl inside him. Their bodies flushed, breaths mingling, soaked, reckless, kissing like the world might end and maybe, for them, it already has. They pulled apart just barely, foreheads pressed together, trembling with restraint neither of them has ever been good at.

"This is going to destroy us." Wednesday whispered.

"Then let it." Tyler caressed her cheek.

...

It was fifth day. Still no way to see each other. No alleyway glances. No whispered plans. Just silence and the sound of hearts breaking in private.

Tyler's POV

The bell above the door chimed. Again. Another customer. Tyler forced the smile. "Welcome to the Weathervane." Same words, same shift, different kind of pain. His body was here, but his mind? It was trapped in memories of her fingers tangled in his hoodie, the sharpness of her kiss, her voice saying his name like a secret only they understood. Every cup of coffee he poured was just a distraction. His day was shit. His week was hell. Because he couldn't see her, couldn't touch her, couldn't even hope to. Not now, not with eyes everywhere, not with everyone watching. And pretending it was nothing — pretending she wasn't in his blood — it was killing him. He wiped the counter a little too hard. His hands were shaking. When he got home, it was worse. His dad grunted something from the couch. Didn't ask where he'd been, didn't care. The TV was louder than their last conversation. Tyler went to his room and shut the door quietly. Only then did his face fall. He leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor. Pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes like that might stop the tears he refused to cry. But they came anyway. Silent, raw. A few at first, then too many. He whispered her name like a prayer. Like maybe she would feel it.

Wednesday's POV

Wednesday stared at the lecture hall board but the words blurred. She was here. She was taking notes. But in her head, she was somewhere else — pressed against Tyler in the dark, his breath warm against her skin, his hands in her hair. She tightened her jaw, pushed the pen harder into the paper. She couldn't let her mind wander. But it did. Every time. It wasn't just that she missed him — it was that she needed him. Like an anchor. Like a wound she didn't want to heal. And pretending she was fine? It was exhausting. When she finally got home, the house was quiet. Too quiet. She greeted her parents with that practiced voice — clipped, dry, sharp. Her mother watched her like a hawk. Morticia always notices — the slant of a brow, the tremor of a voice. So Wednesday trained herself. Held her spine straighter, spoke carefully, didn't look too long at her phone. She smiled once, just to deflect. It burned.

"I'm fine. Just tired." She always says that. It's never true.

And when she closed her bedroom door, locked it and turned — she finally let go. She exhaled like she had been underwater all day. The kind of breath that shook her ribs. That threatened to turn into sobs. Her legs nearly gave out. She clutched the edge of her desk and stayed standing by force alone. Then the tears came. Hot, angry, helpless. She doesn't cry easily — she never has. But this? This wasn't weakness. This was grief for something still alive. She sat on the edge of her bed, pulled her knees to her chest, phone gripped so tightly her fingers ached. No new texts, no calls. Just silence. She typed and erased a few messages. None of them got sent. Because saying it wouldn't fix it. And letting him know how badly she was unraveling would only hurt him more. And she wouldn't do that.

...

It was 11PM. Tyler's voice was quiet in her ear. "I don't think I can take another day, Wednesday. I feel like I'm disappearing."

"You're not alone. I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out." Wednesday admitted.

He let out a shaky breath, and she heard it. The pain in it, the need."Let's stop pretending this is fine. Let's just... risk it. I'll take the fallout. Whatever comes."

"If we have three hours... I want every second. No half-measures." Wednesday said determined.

A pause. "Then we run straight into the fire."

They whispered their plan in a flurry of low, excited tones. Tyler will leave work two hours early — fake a family emergency. Wednesday will skip her afternoon lecture — she knows how to sneak off-campus without being noticed. They settled on a hotel just outside town — quiet, low-profile, forgettable enough not to raise questions. Three hours. That's all they'll get. But right now it felt like a lifetime.

...

Wednesday, alone in her room, pulled open her closet and took her time. Not because she was indecisive — but because she wanted to devastate him. She wanted the moment he sees her to be breath-stealing. She picked a black lace top — delicate, sculpted, darkly romantic — and a skirt with just enough movement to catch his eye. She lined her eyes in sharp black and added her signature lipstick, but this time softer, just a shade more undone. She looked in the mirror and didn't just see herself — she saw the way he looks at her like she's the only light in the world. That was what she wanted. She took one last breath and hid it all under her long black coat.

Tyler spent longer than usual in the mirror. He wasn't vain — not usually, but today every detail mattered. He let his curls fall the way she likes, tousled and perfect. Added cologne — two sprays, the one she always clings to. His hands trembled as he buttoned his shirt, but it wasn't anxiety, it was exhilaration. He was alive again, for the first time in days. He got to the hotel first. The room was small but clean, warm-toned, private. He set his phone down and paced. Checked the time. Looked at the door. Checked again. His heart pounded. And then — a soft knock. He opened the door and there she was. Dark eyes locked on his. She looked like a secret carved in porcelain and night.

"Wednesday... my Wednesday" He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, inhaling her scent. She clung to him, letting them both just close their eyes and breathe for a while.

When they finally pulled away she had fire in her eyes. "I hope you're ready to burn."

Their mouths found each other like magnets. Kisses deep, consuming. Like they were trying to drink each other in. Every second they had been apart crashed into that moment and they didn't waste a single one. Her hands were in his hair immediately, fingers tangled in those perfect curls she adored. She tugged him closer and he let out a broken sound — half sigh, half gasp. His arms wrapped around her like he would never let go again. They were trembling. They kissed through tears, through gasps, through whispered "I love you so much" and "Baby, I missed you—"

He cupped her face in both hands, thumbs catching tears she didn't mean to let fall. His forehead rested against hers. "Wens... I swear I didn't know it would hurt this much." Tyler admitted brokenly.

Wednesday was shaking. "Every hour without you was... unbearable."

He kissed her again — not like a boy in love, but like a man who needed her to survive. And she melted into him, finally letting the sob out against his neck, clutching his back like he might disappear. They fell back onto the bed in a tangle — not out of lust, but need. Bodies pressed close, foreheads touching, their breath syncing like a heartbeat. Whispering things they'd held in for too long. He ran a hand down her spine, slow, reverent. She gripped his shirt tighter. And in that moment — chest to chest, legs tangled, lips swollen from kisses and emotion — they finally felt whole again. Their hearts were still hurting — but this time, it wasn't from absence. It was from the relief of being home.

When the storm of passion had passed, they laid tangled in the sheets, facing each other, legs knotted under the covers. Tyler's arm was wrapped protectively around Wednesday's waist, her fingers drawing lazy, aimless circles along his ribs. His heart was still racing, but slower now — steadier, like it had found its rhythm again in her presence.

"I thought I was going to lose my mind without you." Tyler kissed her forehead.

Wednesday's fingers were stroking his chest. "I did. At least three separate times. Quietly. Behind locked doors."

He chuckled, tired but genuine. She lifted her head slightly, watching him — eyes so dark and deep, he could drown again and again. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then kissed her temple. "We have to figure out the next time. I can't go through another week like that. I won't make it."

Wednesday replied resolute but tender. "We won't wait. We'll plan. Steal hours. Even minutes if we have to. I'm not doing that kind of silence again."

He nodded, thumb stroking the curve of her hip under the blanket. "Promise?"

"Promise."

She shifted closer, sliding up just enough to bury her face in his neck, inhaling deeply. That scent. Her favorite thing in the world — warm skin, faint citrus, and him. Her whole body relaxed as she breathed it in. She pressed a kiss just below his jaw, then another a little lower, lips soft and reverent. He exhaled slowly, tilting his head to give her access. She smiled faintly against his neck, her nose brushing along the skin. And then... her eyes drifted lower. To the little mole on his neck. Her lips hovered over it for a moment before she kissed it with featherlight care. Like it was something sacred.

Tyler smiled sleepily. "Not the mole thing again..."

Wednesday's voice was dead serious."They're constellations and I am mapping you like the sky." She kissed another on his chest. Then one near his shoulder. Her fingers trailed along the ones on his arm.

"You're going to worship me to death." Tyler whispered.

Wednesday pressed her lips against his heart. "I'd bring you back just to do it again."

He cupped the back of her head, holding her there. She listened to his heartbeat. They didn't speak for a while after that. They don't have to. And for now, in that soft quiet with only breath and skin and heartbeats between them — they were whole again.

...

The air was cooler and their bodies were clothed again, though nothing could cover the warmth they just shared. Wednesday smoothed her skirt in the mirror, fixing her hair with practiced elegance, while Tyler folded the blanket at the foot of the bed — an act of quiet distraction. Neither wanted to say it out loud. But it was time to go. They tidied the room in silence. The kind of silence filled with things you don't say because you don't want them to end the spell too soon. Then Tyler picked up the room key and Wednesday slipped on her coat. He opened the door for her and they walked down the hallway side by side. At the front desk, Tyler slid the key across the counter with a nod. The receptionist barely looked up. And just like that it was over. The hotel, the room, the sacred little bubble of theirs — it was behind them. They stepped outside into the crisp air. Wednesday hugged her coat tighter around her and Tyler shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. They both paused on the sidewalk, just looking at each other. The world was back. And it was demanding they go their separate ways again.

But Tyler's voice broke the silence. "I'll drive you."

"Tyler—"

"I know it's only twenty minutes. But I want them."

She stared at him for a heartbeat. Then the smallest, fondest smile curved her lips. "Okay. Then let's make them count."

The car was quiet, but warm. Wednesday sat with her legs crossed, fingers resting gently on the console, close to his. Not touching, but close — like a heartbeat waiting to be held. They talked in low voices. About stupid things — her professor's ridiculous obsession with Gothic symbolism, Tyler's coworker who wouldn't stop messing up the espresso machine. But every now and then, they fell into quiet again. Not uncomfortable. Just full. Then, as the dark outline of the Addams mansion came into view, the mood shifted. He slowed the car and pulled into a side street, far enough not to be noticed, close enough to feel it in his chest. He parked. They sat for a moment. Neither moved. And then they stepped out together. They stood close. Her hands found his. His arms wrapped around her. Like they were bracing for the world to pull them apart again.

"Next time soon, even if it's just thirty minutes..." Wednesday declared.

Tyler nodded, holding her tighter."We'll take it. I don't care if it's ten. I'll take whatever I can get."

She closed her eyes. "Then promise."

"I promise."

Then they kissed. And when it broke, neither spoke. He just brushed her cheek and she gave him one last look — eyes shining with the grief of parting, but also the strength of someone who knew this wwouldn't be the end. She turned and walked slowly toward the mansion — back straight, steps quiet. And he watched until she disappeared behind the iron gate and the night swallowed her silhouette.

...

Wednesday closed the door behind her with a quiet click and leaned back against it, eyes closed for a second, just to breathe him in again. He was still in her lungs, on her skin, between her legs, on her lips. Her fingers brushed over her lips lightly and her breath catched. Still tender, still swollen. She pressed one finger against the bottom lip and closes her eyes again. And she could still smell him — the sharp warmth of his cologne, mixed with skin and safety. It was on her coat, in her hair, in her memory. She laid down on her bed, buries her face in the pillow and a quiet, broken sound left her lips. Not sadness. Just... gratitude.

"Thank you." She whispered into the darkness. "For today. For him."

Tyler's dad barely looked up when he walked through the door. A nod. Maybe a grunt. Tyler didn't care. For once, he didn't feel invisible. Because someone sees him. Worships him. Holds him like he matters. He kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his coat — then paused. Lifted it to his face and smiled. Her perfume. That dark, mysterious, slightly rosy scent she wore. It was faint now, but it was still there — in the collar, in the fabric where her head rested on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and he felt like he was back in the hotel. Her body against his, her lips on his chest, her voice — soft and teasing and filled with so much love she hadn't known how to contain it. He sat on the bed slowly, holding the coat like a fragile relic. Like something sacred.

"We did it. We had today."

And even though he already missed her with every heartbeat, he smiled. Because she was his — just for a little while. And she'll be his again, soon. They'll find a way. Even if it's just 30 minutes. Even if it's another risk. Even if it's madness. She's worth it.

THEIR NIGHT TEXTS

11:47 PM – Tyler: "I still feel your hands on me. I don't think I'll ever forget how today felt."

11:49 PM – Wednesday: "You left your fingerprints on my soul, not just my skin."

11:52 PM – Tyler:"I wish I could be in your bed right now. Just hold you. Say nothing. Let you sleep on my chest."

11:55 PM – Wednesday:"I wouldn't sleep. I'd just listen to your heartbeat and memorize it."

11:57 PM – Tyler: "It'd keep saying how much I love you."

0:00 AM – Wednesday:"You make it almost bearable. Being apart. Because you remind me that we'll be together again."

0:01 AM – Tyler: "Soon. I swear it. Even if I have to lie, sneak, run — I'll find you again."

0:03 AM – Wednesday:"I'm going to fall asleep pretending it's your arms around me. That will be enough. For tonight."

0:05 AM – Tyler: "I'm not saying goodnight. Just 'see you soon. Because we will."

0:06 AM – Wednesday: "See you soon, my love."

They don't send another message. Not because there's nothing left to say, but because they've said everything.

TWO DAYS LATER – 3:17 PM – THE PARK

The moment Wednesday stepped out the university gate, he was already there. Leaning against his car, arms crossed — trying to look casual. But the second their eyes met, the act fell away. He opened the door for her. No words. Just eyes, locked, saying "I missed you" a hundred different ways. They didn't drive far. A quiet corner of the park, shaded, empty this time of day. There was a bench under a massive oak tree — old, weathered, waiting. They sat immediately, like magnets finally allowed to touch. Wednesday curled into Tyler's side without hesitation. One arm around his waist, the other pressing flat against his chest like she was syncing her breath to his heartbeat. Tyler held her tightly — one hand on her back, the other brushing over her hair, her jaw, her cheek.

"Two days felt like a lifetime. But I told we'd see each other soon." Tyler said softly.

Wednesday nodded. "I thought I was going to explode if I didn't feel you again."

Then silence again. But a good one. Heavy with comfort. Dense with feeling. They kissed — slow, unhurried. No adrenaline this time. No risk of hotel doors or rushing footsteps. Just them and the breeze. And thirty minutes that felt like everything. But of course time passed too quickly. Wednesday pulled back just slightly and looked at him with those dark, piercing eyes. She kissed his cheek, his jaw, his collarbone over his t-shirt — quick, reverent touches, as if memorizing him again.

"I can make it two more days now. Maybe three." A small pause."But no more than that."

"Then I'll make it happen again. Sooner if I can." Tyler promised.

Five minutes later they stood up to leave.But slowly. Fingers interlocked, they lingered like children at the edge of a swimming pool, not ready to let go of the water. Their goodbye kiss was gentle and tender. It tasted like shared strength. And as Tyler drove away and Wednesday walked back toward reality, neither of them felt broken.

THE NIGHT SURPRISE – 11:03 PM – ADDAMS ESTATE, BACK FENCE

Tyler stood hidden in the shadowed thicket behind the old iron fence, hands slightly shaking from the cold, but mostly from nerves and thrill. The Addams mansion loomed in the distance, almost eerie in its silence. Except for one window. Her window. Soft yellow light leaked out behind sheer black curtains. And just seeing that glow, knowing she was there — made every risk worth it.

He texted her quickly: "Go outside. Back fence. Please baby I missed you too much 🥺"

Wednesday was halfway buried in one of her books when the message lit her screen. Her breath caught. Her spine straightened. He was here? Her fingers trembled as she typed back. "Are you serious??"

But before he could reply, she was already on her feet — heart racing, cheeks flushed. And in seconds, she put on her coat, cracked her door open, silent as a shadow, and moved down the back hallway. The door to her parents' room was closed. Good. The back door creaked a little when she opened it. She slipped into the garden, the cool night air biting her cheeks.

She looked around frantically, whispering. "Tyler...?"

But he didn't answer. She stepped closer to the fence, searching — the moon casting soft silver across the yard. Still nothing. Just wind in the trees. Then a blur of movement. Suddenly she was grabbed, pulled into strong arms, her back against the cold iron fence and a hand clamped gently but firmly over her mouth. She let out a muffled gasp-scream, struggling for a half-second before those warm gray eyes met hers in the moonlight, grinning.

"Ssshh, baby... It's me." Tyler whispered, barely stopping laughter.

Her chest was heaving — furious, relieved, deliriously happy. His hand slowly left her mouth and she exhaled hard, shoving his shoulder lightly. "You're insane!" Wednesday hissed, breatheless.

Tyler still grinned like a fool. "Maybe. But you love me for it."

She looked up at him. Her hands still pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering beneath her palms. And then they kissed. Hard, desperate, laughing into each other's mouths. Their bodies pressed together like the fence behind them could barely hold them up. They pulled away just to catch a breath and then Tyler's lips crashed into hers again, not violently, but with the aching need of someone who had been starving and suddenly tasted salvation. His hands were on her waist, gripping like he might fall without her. Her back was against the cold iron, but she didn't care. She was warm because it was him. Their kisses came in messy bursts — rushed, full of breathless laughter and sighs. Every time their mouths parted, their foreheads rested together for just a second. A heartbeat. And then they were kissing again.

Tyler cupped her cheek, voice low and hoarse with emotion. "You're the best thing that's happened to me today. No, this whole week. I can't believe I get to be with you, even like this. Even for minutes."

Wednesday, eyes wide and dark, looked at him like he was carved from something holy. "You're all I ever wanted. This. You. I don't need more than this moment."

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply — his scent, that soft warmth that she dreamed about. She kissed his neck, then his jaw, holding onto him tighter like he might vanish.

"Every night without you feels like I'm missing air. I don't care how insane this is — I'd risk it every time, just to hold you like this." Tyler whispered.

"We're already insane. But it's a beautiful kind." Wednesday said.

Their bodies stayed pressed together, rocking gently like two ghosts clinging to something real in a world that didn't want them to have it. They knew their time was short. But instead of despair, there was peace in this moment — because they had found each other anyway. They had made it happen anyway. And the ache in their hearts wasn't sharp now. It was soft. The kind that reminds you just how deep love can go.