Wednesday Addams x Tyler smut / fluffshots (Wedler)

Jealousy, Jealousy (❤️)

A/N: thank you to whoever requested this! And yes there is spice so beware, I promise fluff is on the way. I was busy today performing in my marching band for a christmas parade so sorry for nothing till now 🥲
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Jealous?

What a stupid word.

I wasn't jealous. How could I be jealous when I'm not even dating her yet?

Or- not "yet", just, not dating.

Whatever.

But I'm not jealous.

I don't even care that she walks with Xavier to class.

Why would I care?

Or that he gifted her a phone.

Still don't care.

Just seeing her talk to him, and almost smile at him...

Totally not jealous.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

I can't help it, when I saw her at the Weathervane, I was so intrigued. I still am. There's something about her nobody else has.

"...Tyler?"

I mean, she's just so..

"Tyler!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, hey Wednesday and uh, Enid, uh, how can I help you?"

"You've been spacing out for the last minute and 23 seconds. Yes, I counted."

"..Yeah, uh, sorry about that-"

"Anyways. I'm branching out today. No quad, I want a..."

She looks at Enid who whispers something.

"..Latte with oat milk." She shuddered when she said it. God, she's so cute. ...I need to focus.

"Wow, well that is certainly unique for you. One latte with oak milk coming right up."

I made the drink and as I did, Enid was talking Wednesday's ear off about how she'll love the latte and everything.

I felt compelled to write my number on the cup. I mean, she was busy putting up with Enid, if I quickly wrote it, she wouldn't notice. Right?

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"Oh my god, Wednesday!"

"What now, Enid."

"Tyler!"

"What about him?" Wednesday looked at her, confused.

"He totally wrote his number on your cup! Turn it around."

Wednesday turned it around to find a phone number written shakily.

"He so likes you," Enid commented.

"I don't have a clue why he would," She replied.

"So, you gonna call him?"

Wednesday didn't answer, but the ever so light pale pink that appeared on her cheeks did all the talking for Enid.

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I kept staring at the cup, laying in bed. Should I call him? I knew deep down I was afraid.

Afraid of falling in love.

Gross.

Sadly, I show all the symptoms. Blushing cheeks, nervousness, and a desire to have my body in contact with his. (Which was particularly peculiar, since touch usually disgusts me.)

So reasonably, I was worried if I talked to him outside of coffee outings I'd like him more, or even, do more with him.

But, the morbid curiosity was killing me.