Work Text:
The weather was too warm for March in Vermont. Sixty and sunny during the day, low to mid fifties at night. It was certainly a testament to the rapidly progressing effects of climate change, Wednesday Addams reasoned.
But it was blissful for Tyler Galpin. And his other half. This time of year was perfect for the Hyde, it brought creatures out of hibernation early, which made perfect targets when he needed to hunt. In the Winter, he was stuck with gamey meats, gophers, muskrats, the occasional beaver or squirrel. But when Spring came around, there were an array of animals: bears, moose, mountain lions, even bobcats.
Wednesday had generously offered to teach him how to hunt various snake species, and prepare them based on their specificities, but Tyler couldn't get past the scales. Even when Hyde was ravenous, the slimy feeling of snake skin never sat well in his stomach.
They were sat in Wednesday's dorm room, Enid at her beloved Friday night dance team rehearsals. She had made team captain this year and never shut up about it. Tyler had smiled and nodded, pretending to entertain and understand her long monologues about eight counts, their rivalry with another New England dance team, and the feud between a Katie, Caitlyn, and Katy on the team. Frankly, her explanation of events was confusing, not to mention she had the propensity to speak unconscionably quickly. Wednesday stared at Enid throughout her story, entirely uninterested, stabbing her rare steak clean through to the table.
Now Wednesday was sat at her desk, the chair pulled away slightly. She had shifted awkwardly as she watched Tyler read her latest draft. Again.
Upon the first read, Tyler looked up from his finished stack of papers in awe. "It's... dark. And scary. Like totally terrifying and something out of a movie."
Wednesday searched his face for any signs of hidden emotions.
He continued. "It's incredible, you're incredible, Wednesday. Seriously, seriously talented."
He stood up, final page in hand and walked over to where she sat, leaning down to cup her cheek and kiss her. Just before his lips met her own, she spoke, her eyes still open.
"What did you think?"
Tyler's eyebrow rose in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"
"No critiques? No edits you would make if you had written it?"
Tyler chuckled. "I don't think I could write something like this."
Wednesday looked slightly offended by this, pulling away from him. She stood, moving over to the bed where the rest of her draft laid among the sheets, like fallen leaves in late October. She picked them up, moving back over to the desk where she stacked them together, neatly.
Opening her drawer, she took out a sleek fountain pen and bright purple highlighter. She turned to Tyler, giving him the draft and the writing utensils.
"I want your honest opinions," she said. "Not just flattery. True constructive criticism."
Tyler tilted his head and smiled as if in disbelief. "You want constructive criticism? From me?"
Wednesday shrugged slightly, opening her mouth to speak before deciding to close it again. A moment passed before she spoke, and her voice was quiet.
"You are the only person whose feedback I would consider valuable. Please."
Wednesday never attached a please to anything she asked. Tyler was taken aback by her vulnerability and honesty. He took the stack of papers, kissed her lightly on the cheek near her ear, and sat on the floor, uncapping the highlighter and raising his eyebrows, his eyes casting one last hesitant glance at her before turning his attention to the page.
An hour or two passed, and the room just began getting dark, the sun making her descent into the sky, illuminating the room with a golden ember.
Tyler hadn't looked up from the neatly typed draft once, highlighting on occasion, making small comments in the margins, underlying lines, crossing out words and replacing them with others. He bit his cheek in concentration, his eyes focused.
Wednesday watched him anxiously, her hands neatly folded in her lap. She blinked suddenly, catching the glow of the sun on his face where his temple met his cheekbone, his hazel eyes now golden, his eyebrows knit together in focus.
Her gaze trailed his face down to his shoulder, the taut muscles visible even through the fabric of his shirt. She loved his arms, their sheer strength, the way they held her tight to him while they slept, the way they pinned her hands above her head while he rocked his hips against her own, his length plunging in and out of her. Her breath caught in her throat for a second at the thought, hopefully unnoticeable. Her mind was going a mile a minute, chasing daydreams that belonged hidden away for specific times and specific occasions.
Out of no where, Tyler spoke without looking up, his voice rough catching Wednesday off guard.
"Can you stop looking at me like that?"
Wednesday shifted awkwardly in her seat, feigning confusion, her eyes darting quickly away from him. "Like what?"
"Like you want to eat me," Tyler says with a laugh, finally glancing up at her. "It's unnerving."
Wednesday's blood ran cold, her senses dilated to eleven, her muscles tight as if she had just been caught in a trap. She hadn't realized that Tyler had been watching her, too from his peripheral vision. She sat up straight in her chair, perfecting her posture, and directed her attention towards the wall behind him.
A few minutes later, Tyler flipped to the back and made a notation around where Wednesday expected read the ending of the story.
He looked up, placed the cap back on the highlighter and unclicked the fountain pen, the draft laying in his lap. His face was warm, adoring.
"Come here," he said.
She moved forward, kneeling down on the floor before quickly moving over towards him, sitting on her heels. She looked down at the papers in his hands, trying to gauge how many marks he made and what kind of feedback he was prepared to give.
Tyler grabbed her hand which was fisted to her side, smoothing his thumb across her knuckles.
His eyes met hers, and they were playful, non-judgmental, and patient.
Wednesday snatched the papers out of his hands and turned the first page.
She read through her own work, seeking out the highlighted sections which Tyler marked with curly brackets that read enthusiastically.
"Great symbolism"
"Foreshadowing!!!"
"Vivid descriptions- you can really picture this scene in your head"
She looked up at Tyler, her eyes slightly agitated. "This is what you were writing all this time? 'Great symbolism'?"
Tyler chuckled. "You know, I haven't finished high school. And not everyone is the great English language and literary whiz that you are."
Wednesday continued skimming the words, noting an entire page at the climax of the story crossed out.
Her eyes caught Tyler's and he had raised his hands in defense. "I just don't see why you had to kill him."
"Theo was collateral damage," Wednesday reasoned. "A distraction."
Tyler feigned shock and upset. "But she loved him."
"Did she say that explicitly?" Wednesday asked, her eyebrow cocked in a challenge.
"She didn't have to," Tyler said. He brought a hand up to move a strand of hair behind her ear and out of her eyes. "He knew. And he didn't deserve to die!"
"Tyler," Wednesday said firmly. "You are losing the test I have set up for my readers."
Tyler tilted his head, "What test is that?"
Wednesday straightened her shoulders, "Not to form emotional attachments with any character. Attachments equal weakness."
"Not all the time," Tyler argued, trailing a fingernail against the side of her thigh. "I would argue that Theo made Viper the opposite of weak."
Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Why is that?"
"Because love makes people stronger." Tyler said, a smile forming wide on his face. "Its made me stronger."
Wednesday glared at him, maintaining stern eye contact. "You're projecting."
"Possibly," Tyler shrugged. "But you wanted my feedback. And my feedback is that I don't think you should have killed him."
"If I don't kill him that changes the whole story!" Wednesday argued. "I would have to rewrite the entire climax, the ending, the core theme of the story: betrayal, vengeance, resilience. This story is about Viper. She is the focal point."
"I know that," Tyler said, his tone kind, understanding, patient. "She is strong. Fierce. Passionate. Powerful. Having someone that she loves in her life doesn't negate any of that. It doesn't lessen it, or make her less of a character. It makes her human."
Wednesday blinked, absorbing his words.
"I love your writing, Wednesday. I love your characters, your world building, the way your words flow like poetry."
She leaned closer, raising her thigh slightly and Tyler grabbed it, pulling her leg over his lap and settling her into his lap.
"I love you," he said softly.
She caught his words with her mouth, pressing an open kiss to his lips and shifting her weight fully onto his lap.
He held her narrow waist, meeting her kiss with equal fervor and enthusiasm. It wasn't the first time he had told her he loved her, but he got choked up every time he said it nonetheless. What he felt for her was overwhelming, incapacitating. It overtook him completely, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
They kissed fiercely, Wednesday's hands trailing the length of his torso, his shoulders, before curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. She fisted his curls, tugging them hard, the way she knew he liked.
He moaned into her mouth and pulled away gently, staring into her eyes. His hands moved from her hips down to her thighs, gripping them firmly.
Wednesday glanced at his mouth, staring at his full pink lips. She traced a fingertip across his bottom lip, before meeting his eyes.
"You're doing it again," Tyler said, his voice humored.
"What?" Wednesday asked, through her teeth.
"Giving me that look. Like you want to devour me whole."
There was silence for a moment.
Wednesday pulled back, straightening her spine. "I do want to try something."
He looked at her confused, before she interrupted him.
"Stand up," she insisted, climbing out of his lap.
He did as she said, wobbling a little, his muscles stiff from sitting on the floor for an extended period of time.
She moved quickly to unbutton his jeans, rising onto her knees before him.
"Wa- Wait," Tyler said, his voice gruff. "What are you-"
Wednesday was suddenly glad Tyler rarely wore a belt, easily unfastening his jeans and pulling them down slightly, along with his underwear.
His cock sprang up quickly, half-hard, and Wednesday gripped it with her palm.
She had hid her surprise at his size poorly the first time they engaged in sexual activities, but she knew to hide it better now, stroking him from base to tip before looking up at Tyler, who was blissed out at the sight of her on her knees before him, his member stiff in her hand.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Yeah, baby. Just like that."
She stroked him through his coos, maintaining eye contact. She liked praise in bed, and tolerated pet names. Occasionally.
Wednesday's eyes were crossed, staring intently at him for a long while. She was utterly fascinated by his anatomy, how smooth his skin was, how large he was in her small hands. She looked down at his length, the tip slick with beads of precum, thin, clear ejaculatory fluid that always tempted her to taste. He was curved slightly, a harsh divet underneath the head, veins protruding.
She looked up at him again from underneath her signature bangs and leaned forward slightly, tracing her tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the tip, staring at him as she took him into her mouth.
"Shit," Tyler cursed, underneath his breath. His hand moved to her face, trying to push any stray hairs away from her face. Truthfully, he wanted to undo her braids, fist his hand into her hair and thrust into her mouth until she was gagging, eyes glistening. Hyde wanted to dominate her, fuck her mouth roughly, but Tyler was restrained, gentle. He knew Wednesday had never done this before, by opening up in this way, taking him in her mouth, she was being vulnerable with him. And he never wanted to scare or intimidate her, especially in the bedroom.
Wednesday was surprised by the taste of him, he was slightly salty, clean, and once she had him fully in her mouth, it likened to a not-quite-ripe avocado fresh off the vine. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him halfway. She gripped him at the base roughly to hold him in place, and sucked hard, hallowing her cheeks. Her thumb traced the delicate skin of his balls by accident, and Tyler jumped, his hips jerked quickly, thrusting into her mouth forcefully.
"Fuck," Tyler winced. "I'm so sorry."
Wednesday's brows furrowed in confusion. She hummed lightly, hoping to express that she wasn't angry or even affected by his sudden movement. But the hum added a vibration to her mouth's ministrations, and suddenly Tyler was gasping, his mouth wide.
"Wednesday," he muttered. "Fuck. I've thought about this for so long. I wanna actually be able to enjoy it. So you need to stop looking at me like that."
Wednesday retreated, taking him out of her mouth fully. She used her hand to pump up and down his length slowly.
"I just want to see your face," she said, her expression disappointed.
Her words were so sweet and took him by such surprise that an automatic pang shot through Tyler's chest. He could tell she was unsure; unsure if she was doing it correctly, unsure if this was something she enjoyed doing, unsure how long exactly he had been picturing her on her knees for him.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin in reassurance.
"You're so beautiful," Tyler whispered.
Annoyed slightly at his compliment, she welcomed him back into her mouth. She focused solely on the head, sucking slightly, and swirling her tongue across the tip. She bobbed her head up and down slowly, her eyes shut, savoring the taste of him.
She loved being in control, especially when it came to sex, watching him reach his peak, working him to orgasm with her hands, it made her revel in pride.
Here she was now, on her knees, blowing him, and she enjoyed it.
Wednesday continued on, and Tyler watched her. She was so stunning, her raven black hair contrasting her pale skin, her lashes long, curled against her eyelids. Her freckles, which she typically hid behind concealer and light powder, were on full display. She hummed against him again, contented, and Tyler couldn't handle it.
"I'm gonna come," Tyler warned. "Wednesday-"
She opened her eyes, glancing up at him again and quickened her pace, sucking the tip roughly and jerking off what she couldn't fit with both hands.
He attempted to pull her back, trying to spare her the sudden release that threatened to overtake him. But she was unrelenting. The feel of the tastebuds decorating her tongue against him, the suction of her warm mouth, her gorgeous dark brown eyes staring up at him, watching him fall apart, sent him over the edge with a deep groan.
Wednesday tasted it before she felt it, a slight twinge of bitterness hit her tongue and she pulled back in surprise, continuing to stroke him with her hand. Strokes of his come fell onto her face, decorating her mouth, her jaw, even her left eyelid.
She smiled, the corners of her mouth lifting as Tyler reached a shaky hand down and attempted to clean her off with the cuff of his sweater. His breath was heavy, but he managed to catch the bit that landed near her eye, clearing her vision.
Wednesday caught the bit near her mouth with a finger, bringing it to her mouth before sucking. She hummed approvingly before standing up, Tyler caught her hand to help her steady herself, but his chivalry was unnecessary.
Wednesday leaned up for a kiss, and Tyler obliged, trailing his tongue across her lips and kissing her deeply.
When they pulled away, Tyler chuckled.
"That night, at the Rave'N," he began. "When it started raining paint, and you tasted it right in front of me, sucking it off of your fingers..."
His head shook in disbelief, recalling the moment with clarity. "I've been thinking about it since then."
Wednesday smirked. "I figured it was time to return the favor."
He loved going down on her, infatuated with her smell and taste, and offered to do it more often than anything else. She had rarely thought to go down on him, as he'd never asked, but listening to him rant about her work made her hungry for him. And it was a hunger worth satisfying.
"I should give you writing advice more often," Tyler said with a chuckle.
Wednesday turned on her heel, headed to the bathroom to make sure she didn't look as wrecked as she felt. "I'm not changing my story. Theo needed to die."
She was halfway to the door before she heard Tyler, who was fitting himself back into his pants shout. "NO!"