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lovelytsunoda · 6 months

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i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher

summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.

pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader

warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)

authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?

there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.

it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.

mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.

however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.

her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.

it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.

two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.

“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.

and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?

“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”

“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”

she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.

and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?

she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.

but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.

“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”

mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.

“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.

“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”

she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.

“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”

she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.

“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”

he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.

“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”

she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.

she needed this.

needed him.

“yes.”

when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.

“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”

“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.

it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.

he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.

“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”

noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”

ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.

“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”

she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.

mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.

and she laughed.

and he laughed with her.

that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.

a gentleman.

and that’s what mick schumacher was.

he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”

“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”

“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.

she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.

he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”

she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.

he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.

mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”

instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.

“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.

“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”

“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.

he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.

she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.

now.

there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.

his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.

“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”

“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”

god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.

she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”

“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.

she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.

but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.

and that was sexy as fuck.

she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”

while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.

and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.

he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.

she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).

goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.

“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”

oh fuck.

mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”

“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.

the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it

“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.

he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.

sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.

“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.

“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”

“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.

“holy fuck.” she hummed.

his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.

“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.

“please, I need your cock.” she whined.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”

he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.

when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.

“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”

it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.

“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”

“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.

her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.

it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.

mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.

all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.

“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.

“fuck, that feels so good!”

the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.

“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”

“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”

she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.

“mick, you never finished.” she pouted

“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”

she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”

and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?

within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.

“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”

“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.

mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”

after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.

“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.

mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”

she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”

and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

as soon as exams were over, of course.

the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck

#mick schumacher x reader #formula one imagine #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #mick Schumacher smut #f1 imagine

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thoseboysinblue · 6 months

Text

What Nobody Sees

Part 2

Christian Pulisic x reader

You have unexpectedly found yourself tangled up in a long-term situationship with Christian.

Word count: 6350+

Warnings: Swearing, smut (under 18 DNI)

Song Inspo: Sin So Sweet by Warren Zeiders

Requested: No

Author's note: The original concept for this is based on a dream I had. Once I heard the song, I knew it was an immediate fit. This will be a multi-part series. Thank you, as always to @neverinadream for helping me to flesh this out. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Early morning jogs on the treadmill are how you start most days. Sometimes some of the other guys join you, sometimes you are alone, but mostly it's just you and Christian. Once he figured out it was your routine, he slowly began joining you day after day. He enjoyed feeling productive first thing in the morning, and, if he was being honest with himself, he enjoyed the quiet time with you.

About a quarter of the way through your planned run, you catch him out of the corner of your eye when he claims the treadmill next to yours. He leans over and places a bottle of water in your cup holder, because as much as you make sure they all stay hydrated and at their optimal level, he knows you nearly always forget your water when you work out.

"Thank you," you smile at him as he starts his treadmill. You take out your earbuds and switch your phone off of the bluetooth, a smile creeping over his face when he recognizes the playlist he'd shared with you a while ago.

You finish your run and begin to walk on the treadmill as a cool down, eventually stopping and moving over to an open area in front of the mirrors to do some light stretching.

As Christian finishes his run, he moves over to stand behind you, settling his hand over your hip and squeezing it gently. You assume he's also running the same scenario through his head as what's running through yours, images of him bending you over in front of this mirror. While a few not so innocent thoughts did enter his mind, he's mostly admiring the way your body molds perfectly against his as he stands behind you.

"You left me on read," he says quietly as he dips his head to kiss your neck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say, I almost talked myself into coming back to your room, but I didn't think it would be a good idea," you tilt your head back allowing him more access to your neck as he brushes his thumbs over your breasts, feeling your nipples harden under the sports bra you are wearing.

"I know," he smirks against you, "doesn't mean I didn't want you to though."

You suddenly remember the two of you are very out in the open and anyone could walk in on you, so you take couple of steps away from him and take a deep breath. You can't help but notice the look of disappointment on his face and the whine he lets out when you break contact with him.

"I'm going to go take a shower, you want to meet up in a little while to go grab coffee?" you ask quietly.

He nods, "I'd rather just go take a shower with you, and then go get coffee" he smirks, knowing you'll say no.

"I know you would, but not this morning, ok?" you answer him before pressing a kiss to his chest, leaning your forehead against him, closing your eyes and savoring the way you can feel his heart beating away.

"Meet me in the lobby in 30?" you look up at him.

He nods and kisses your forehead, "see you then," he smiles weakly.

"Hey," he smiles at you as he steps off of the elevator and spots you waiting for him.

"Took you long enough," you chuckle, eyeing him up and down in his black training kit, noticing the way it fits him just a little tighter than the last time you saw him in it.

"Yeah well, I'm blaming you and that workout outfit you had on earlier," he chirps at you.

"Liked that one did you?" you smirk at him, enjoying the thought of him having to relieve himself after seeing you earlier.

"I have a love hate relationship with those tiny scraps of clothing you wear sometimes," he breathes out as he ushers you out of the lobby and towards the coffee shop down the street.

"I thought you only loved them?" you arch an eyebrow at him.

"I do, but I hate when I can't rip them off of you," he rolls his eyes.

"Kind of like those shorts you have on now, not leaving much to the imagination, y/n."

"It's not like you have to imagine it anyways, you know what's under here," you gesture towards your training kit. "And this one isn't my fault, blame whoever picks our training uniforms for this one."

"I do know what's under there, and I can't stop picturing it," he says lowly.

"So, I'm not sure if I owe you coffee or if you owe me coffee," you say as he holds the door to the shop open.

"I'll buy yours and you can buy mine," he chuckles.

"Deal," you grin at him.

He leans against the door frame of the small shop while you are waiting in line.

"Christian, you can't do the book-tok door leaning thing, not here," you roll your eyes at him and pull him away from the door.

"Why not? Does it turn you on?" he raises an eyebrow at you, leaning down to barely whisper in your ear "you want me to tell you to shut the fuck up and take this dick like a good girl?" he smirks, knowing he's hit a nerve when your thighs press together.

"We are in public," you snap at him, a playful smile on your lips.

"I know, but I would be willing to bet you're dripping for me now," he winks at you.

"You're a menace," you shake your head at him.

"So are those shorts your wearing," he chuckles.

You order coffees for one another, not even bothering to ask what the other wants, you know that already.

As you make your way back to the hotel you nudge him, "do I even want to know how you know about book-tok?"

"Ah, asking me to reveal my secrets?" he shakes his head. "You know people can see your reposts right?" he grins, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Stalk much?" you chuckle.

"What? No!" he blushes. "Well maybe a little. I was just curious at what kinds of things you're into besides me and soccer," he shrugs.

You shake your head at him and continue your walk back, arriving in the lobby around the same time as several of the other players.

"You're getting breakfast with us right?" he skims his hand against yours as he looks at you.

"Yeah, of course," you blush slightly at him.

You finish grabbing your food as Weston calls to you to come over and join them.

"Morning, y/n" he grins pushing out the chair across from Christian and next to him.

"Hey, Wes," you share a brief smile with him, glancing across at Christian.

"You're Ben right?" you smile at the player seated next to Christian as he nods at you.

"Welcome to camp, don't let these idiots get you in trouble," you motion between Christian, Wes, Jedi, and Tim Weah.

"I'm terribly offended," Tim clutches his chest.

"She's not wrong though," Jedi smiles, stuffing a bite into his mouth.

"This is y/n, by the way," Wes throws his arm around the back of your chair, "she's our player performance analyst and she has a knack for picking apart weaknesses in other teams so she's like our little secret weapon," he smiles proudly at you.

"Speaking of performances, I don't know what you two were up to last night, but all I heard was Cap here saying 'shit, shit, shit,'" he grins glancing back and forth between you and Christian.

Christian's cheeks blush at his comment but he looks at you with a slight grin.

"Well, perv, maybe you should quit listening to us," you roll your eyes at him.

"Kind of hard not to when I can hear you through the walls," he chuckles.

"Maybe you should try headphones," Christian adds.

"Cap, here gets special treatment," Wes nods at Ben, letting him in on your little secret as you and Christian share a glance between you.

"So y/n," Ben turns his focus to you, trying to change the topic of conversation, "what got you into men's soccer, I mean, why aren't you working on the women's side?"

"Well," you start taking a bite of your food, "I grew up watching my four older brothers play..." you trail off when Christian coughs and drops his fork.

"What, you know I have brothers," you look at him, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Yeah, but I didn't know there were four of them," he mumbles as Wes chuckles.

"Scared there CP?" he eyes up his friend.

"He doesn't have to worry about them, they'll never know about us," you shrug, noticing the expression on his face change slightly.

"Anyways, I grew up watching them play mostly, and when I was in college I did an internship and met these knuckleheads" you motion between Wes and Christian.

"I worked with some of the youth teams for a bit before this job opened up and they asked if I would want to move up to the senior team. So really, it just kind of happened that I ended up here and not on the women's side of things. But I prefer it here anyways, less drama, more fun," you shrug.

"That's cool," Ben smiles at you.

"And now she can't ever get rid of us or leave us," Wes pulls you into his side as you roll your eyes.

"Someone's got to keep you in line," you elbow him in the ribs.

"So far, you're doing a terrible job of that," he chuckles.

The conversation moves on to other things, and you can't help but notice the way Christian keeps his attention mainly focused on you.

You all board the bus headed over to the training facility. You sit at the front discussing today's plan with the other staff members.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Christian nudges Wes to get his attention as they both pull their earbuds out of their ears.

"Yeah, man, what's up?" Wes asks as he pauses his playlist.

"You um," Christian pauses, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening, "you ever been choked before?"

A wide grin in spreads across Weston's face, "like in general or during sex?" even though he fully knows what he's being asked, he still wants to see his best friend squirm a little.

"Well not in general," Christian rolls his eyes.

"So during sex?" he chuckles.

Christian nods, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Nah, I've choked plenty of girls, but never had it done to me. Why? Did y/n choke you last night or something?" he pinches his eyebrows together.

Christian nods slowly, realizing by the look on his friend's face that maybe he shouldn't have said anything to him about it.

"Yeah, she did, and um, I'm a bit worried about how much I liked it," he rubs his hands over his face.

"Look, I think I'd just enjoy whatever you two have going on and not worry about it too much," he nudges Christian's knee with his own, "it's just hooking up though, right?"

Christian nods again, "she said something last night about me having other girls, insinuating that I have a roster," he shrugs.

"Like she doesn't want you to have a roster? She expects you two to be exclusive or what?" Wes pushes a little further.

"She seems to think she's not the only one I'm sleeping with, but she didn't seem upset or even jealous, she stated it kind of like a fact," he sighs.

"Seems like she's cool with keeping it casual then," Wes shrugs, "I mean, she's not acting crazy trying to lock you down or anything so that's good. There is a roster though isn't there?"

The look on Christian's face answers that question before he utters a word.

"Jesus Christ, there isn't a roster," Wes rubs his hands over his face.

"I mean when it started I didn't aim to keep it exclusive or anything, I was just busy and didn't really have time to pursue anything else, and then somehow along the way I realized I wasn't talking to anyone else, let alone sleeping with them," he shrugs.

"Is she sleeping with anyone else?" Wes asks, his curiosity getting the better of him as he tries to understand the situation.

"I don't know, we haven't talked about it, I guess I assumed she wasn't, but I'm not entirely sure," Christian sighs.

"So, are you good with her sleeping with someone else?" he keeps pushing.

"I'd never thought about it until last night, but when I did think about the possibility it made me a little sick," Christian answers, picking at his nails nervously.

"Sounds like you've caught feelings, which is fine by the way, but I think the two of you need to talk about whatever this is, and I'm probably not the best person for you to be seeking relationship advice from, at all," he chuckles.

"I just wish I knew what she is thinking," Christian sighs.

"Maybe you should grow a pair and ask her," Wes shrugs at him.

Once you've all arrived at the training facility you help everyone get fitted into their monitors and make sure they are all working properly so that you can monitor them during training.

You and Wes are taking turns kicking a ball back and forth showing off your touch skills before everyone gets started.

"Your touch is amazing," Wes grins at you.

"So I've heard," you wink at him.

"Get you're mind out of the gutter, loser," he chuckles.

"I was talking about soccer, I have no idea what you're talking about, perv," you grin.

"I did actually hear my first touch was amazing a lot, until you know, career ending knee injury," you roll your eyes, "I could've had my first World Cup by now."

"That's a shame, but we're more fun anyways," he winks at you.

"Ok, I better actually get to work," you chuckle before heading over to your laptop to make sure everything is still properly synced.

"Christian, can you come here for a second, your monitor is messed up," you shout over to one of the groups.

Once he approaches you, you slide your hands under his training kit and adjust his monitor.

"Easy, you're gonna get me turned on if you keep rubbing on me like that," he says lowly.

"Your monitor is fine by the way, I just wanted to slide my hands up your chest and tell you that you look really hot," you force yourself to hold back a smile, trying to make it look like you're talking about nothing at all.

"You're fucking killing me," he shakes his head at you. "Have I told you you look hot? Because you look hot," he gives you a subtle wink.

"Ok, back to work," you slide your hands out from under his shirt and turn to go back to the sidelines, knowing he's probably having to force himself not to stare at your ass while you walk away.

After the morning training session, everyone showers, changes into a fresh set of the same training kit, grabs lunch and meets for a quick film session.

As the film session is wrapping up, you send Christian a quick text that simply says, "your room, 10 minutes."

You have a quick chat with BJ about a couple of things for tomorrow's training session and make your way to the elevator after noticing Christian left a few minutes prior.

You knock quietly on his door and wait for him to answer it. As soon as he does, you quickly walk in and shut the door behind you.

"I've been waiting all day to get you out of that kit," you grin at him. "You look so hot in it, but I need it on the floor," you practically drag him towards the bed.

You peel his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor while he does the same to you. His lips immediately attaching to your neck before you both fall onto the bed.

"Fuck, I've been wanting to do this since this morning," he mumbles as he kisses over your chest and slide his hands under the sports bralette you are wearing.

A soft moan escapes your lips when he brushes the pads of his fingers over your nipples, pressing his already hardened cock against you.

And then the door flies open, causing Christian to immediately flop down on top of you and make sure you're covered completely when he pulls his hands from your bra.

"Sup, besties," Wes laughs as he flops down on the couch in Christian's room, tossing a room key on the table, "are you two starting twister without us," he grins while you and Christian both scramble to find your shirts.

Christian tosses you a shirt from the floor and the minute you pull it over you're head you realize it's too big, meaning it has to be his. Damn these matching kits, you think to yourself.

You chuckle as you watch Christian trying to pull your obviously too small shirt over his head.

"Babe, babe, I think that one's mine," you poke him in the side to get his attention.

He pulls it back over his head and you exchange shirts while he tries to discreetly rearrange himself.

Wes watches the entire scenario play out with a grin on his face like a kid in a candy store.

"Babe, now is it?" he arches an eyebrow at the two of you.

You and Christian exchange a look because neither of you even realized you said it.

Christian looks over at him as he gets settled on the bed next to you, inching himself closer to you in the process, "you need something, man?"

"Nope," he says standing up, "just wanted to say hi," he chuckles grabbing the room key.

"Leave the key," Christian says with a stern look, but he quickly flashes a grin at his best friend when he acts offended.

"But we've been exchanging room keys for years," he clutches the key to his chest.

"Yeah, well you've lost your key privileges, now," Christian chuckles.

"I see how it is," Wes winks at both of you and drops the key on the table. "Have fun kids, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Actually on second thought, do whatever the hell you want you little deviants."

Before he leaves, Christian stops him and tosses him a pair of headphones. "Got those delivered earlier," he winks as Weston lets out a cackle.

"Well played, Cap," he grins before leaving just as quickly as he came in.

Once he's out of the room Christian immediately moves so that he's back on top of you. He kisses along the column of your neck before sitting up on his knees between your legs and pulling his shirt over his head.

He pushes your shirt up and kisses along your stomach, just as he slides his hands under the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips there is a knock at the door.

He sighs and drops his head. "What now?" he grumbles as he climbs off of the bed, not even bothering to put his shirt on.

He opens the door to find Tim Weah standing there. "Hey man, can I borrow your phone charger, mine quit working," Tim asks.

Christian grabs a spare out of his travel bag, "yeah man, keep it as long as you'd like," he smiles.

"Hey, y/n" Tim chuckles before Christian not so subtly kicks him out.

He returns to the bed, climbing back on top of you. "Where were we?" he grins as he slides his hands up your legs.

Another knock, "fuck," he huffs again going to the door to find Gio, who is apparently in need of an extra towel.

After two more interruptions, including Jedi stopping by to ask for a cup of sugar, Christian loses it.

"I thought the first one was a coincidence," he angrily types out a message on his phone, "clearly they are just fucking with us now because they know you're in here."

Christian: Wes, I swear to god, you tell them I said the next person that knocks on my door will run until they puke tomorrow

Wes: I don't know what you're talking about 😇

Christian: I'm not playing 🖕🏻

Wes: neither am I 😇

Christian: come on man, please

Wes: does y/n like it when you beg

Christian: 🤬

Wes: since you asked nicely, enjoy your evening 😘

"Maybe we should just go to my room," you chuckle as he settles back onto the bed beside you.

"That's not a bad idea actually," he agrees with you as he gets up and puts his shirt back on.

You slip your shoes on before the two of you head to your room.

Christian picks you up and tosses you on the bed, once again pulling your shirt over your head before there is a knock at your door.

He drops his head against your chest and mumbles "I give up," as you push him off of you and grab your shirt.

You stomp towards the door and quickly put your shirt back on huffing out, "Can a girl not get laid?"

You throw the door open ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind only to find a very startled BJ standing in the hallway.

"Is this a bad time?" he blinks at you.

"What? No. It's fine. The guys have been messing with me..I thought...nevermind," you trail off when he chuckles.

"What's up," you ask him, smoothing your hair a bit.

"I wanted to ask about a couple of things for tomorrow, if you've got a minute," he smiles.

"Yeah sure," you tilt your head to look at the training plans he has.

The two of you chat for a few minutes about drills and the best use of the time and players you have available, coming to a decision to tweak a few things before he finalizes what he has and takes it to Gregg.

After he leaves and you make your way back towards Christian, you find him sitting with his back against your headboard with an expression on his face that you've only seen from him a couple of times in the past.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you knit your eyebrows together before crawling onto the bed beside him.

"Like what?" he grins at you.

"I don't know, it's all heart eyes like your in love with me," you shake your head, "stop it, it's weird," you return his grin, but you can't help the swarm of butterflies attacking your insides.

"I've always known the role you have with the team obviously has an impact, but, I don't know, just hearing how much you influence everything we do, and knowing it will make us better, it's just, it makes me appreciate you more, I guess," he blushes.

"Aww, sweetie," you pat him on the cheek as he rolls his eyes at your mocking tone, "I'm glad you know I'm here for more than just sucking your dick, which I'm about to do by the way," you wink at him.

"Oh really?" he chuckles as you pull him off of the bed and tug his shorts and boxers down before shoving him back to a sitting position.

"Yep, figure the poor guy needs some attention, he's been hard off and on for the past hour," you grin as you settle onto your knees in front of him and wrap your hand around his hardened cock.

"I'm not going to complain about...oh fuck," he groans as you waste no time in licking along the vein on the underside of his shaft before swirling your tongue around his tip.

You flatten your tongue against his slit, humming at the taste of the precum that's already leaking when he threads his fingers into your hair, pulling into a makeshift ponytail so that he can properly watch you.

You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him slowly before pulling off of him and working him with your hand while you drop spit off of your tongue and watch it slide down his length.

You take him into your mouth again, forcing yourself further down onto him until his tip reaches the back of your throat causing you to gag.

"God, you look so pretty like this," he looks down at you, his eyes burning into yours as his thumb brushes over the underside of your jaw.

He feels you as you relax your jaw, taking even more of him into your mouth as his head falls back and he mumbles something unintelligible.

"Yes baby, just like that," he sighs.

"You're such a good girl for me, my good little slut, giving it to me just the way you know I like it."

A groan rips from him as you moan at his words sending a vibration up his cock that makes his spine tingle and his toes curl.

His free hand grips at the edge of the bed as he tries to maintain control while his other hand grips tighter into your hair causing you to moan again.

You continue working him, sliding your tongue along his shaft and swirling it around his tip, spit dripping from your mouth as you take him down your throat over and over, gagging each time.

You pull off of him for a moment continuing to work him with your hand while you catch your breath.

He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, wiping some of the drool away.

"This pretty mouth, it belongs to me doesn't it?" he smirks as he presses his tip against your lips and waits for you to open back up for him.

He whimpers when you nod, then moans as you take his entire length into your mouth until your nose presses against his pubic bone and your looking up at him through your lashes.

"Jesus Christ," he stares at you wide eyed, desperately wanting to cum but also not wanting this to end.

You bob your head, using one hand to work his shaft, the other coming up to squeeze his balls gently as you rub your thumb over them.

"And that pussy," he grunts, as he involuntarily bucks his hips, "that pussy belongs to me too doesn't it? I bet it's dripping for me."

You nod again, keeping the same pace you've set as you feel him twitch in your mouth and notice the way his thighs tense and his breathing has become ragged.

"I'm gonna fuckin' cum," he groans.

You pull off of him briefly, "come on baby, give it to me, I want all of it," you say before taking him back into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks to suck him harder.

You slide one hand up his thigh and feel the muscles tense before he comes undone in your mouth, a whimper of your name falling from his lips.

You swallow everything, using your thumb to swipe over your bottom lip and then sucking it clean before using your tongue to make sure he's cleaned up while he catches his breath.

You pull his shorts and boxers back up his legs as you stand up, smirking when he's a little shaky as he pulls them over his hips and tucks himself back inside of them.

"You give the best head I've ever gotten," his voice is husky and low. He shakes his head as he sits back down on the edge of the bed and pulls you to straddle his lap.

"Thank you, I think, but I don't know that I really want to think about all the other head you've been getting," you grin at him as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and his hands settle over your hips.

"Well it's not like I really want to think about how you got so good at it either," he winks at you.

"Maybe, I'm very attentive to details and have figured out exactly how you like it," you shrug at him.

"You've definitely figured that out," he chuckles.

"Was that German earlier?" you grin at him.

"When?" he looks at you puzzled.

"You mumbled something earlier, but I'm not sure what you said, but it wasn't English."

"Oh, I uh, I don't know actually," he lies, he knows exactly what he said but he's definitely not willing to admit it.

"Can I ask you something?" he breathes out.

"Sure," you grin against his neck as you nuzzle your face into him and inhale the sweet yet masculine scent that rolls off of him.

"Am I a bad kisser?" he asks quietly almost as if he's afraid of what your answer will be.

"What? No!" you tilt your head back to look into his eyes.

"Then why won't you let me kiss you?"

You can't help but notice the sadness that lingers in his eyes.

"Oh, um," you sigh, "I guess it just seems too intimate for whatever this is."

"So a few minutes ago my cock was down your throat, but my tongue down your throat is too intimate?" he knits his eyebrows, "that makes perfect sense, y/n."

"I just, Christian, I," you stumble over your words before you climb off of his lap, stand up and turn to put some space between you, suddenly overwhelmed.

He grabs your wrist, gently pleading for you not to walk away from him as he looks up at you from the bed.

"Just tell me, please, whatever it is," he interlaces his fingers with yours and gives them an encouraging squeeze.

"I know it's silly, and you can think it's stupid, but I'm worried that if I kiss you, there's going to be feelings attached to it and that's not what this is, it can't be." you sigh.

"I see," he draws his lower lip into his mouth and lets out a huff, but continues tracing his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Christian, we both know that this is eventually going to end, you'll find someone you care about and this will be over," you motion between the two of you. "And we will probably still be working together when that happens, so the least awkward thing that can happen would be if we just saw this as a hook up and nothing else. So I don't have to be your ex that you work with and you don't have to worry about upsetting someone else down the line." You blink a couple of times, pushing back the tears that you didn't even realize were there.

"I still don't get it though, y/n. I hear what you're saying, but don't you think it would be awkward as hell no matter what?" he rubs his hand over his eyes as the sudden thought of things ending between you flashes through his mind and he doesn't like the wave of anxiety that comes with it.

"I mean, we've fucked each other seven ways to Sunday. We've done shit I didn't even know I was in to, you think for one second I could just forget all of that? Pretend like none of this ever happened? I don't see how kissing every now and then is going to change that. I'm not asking to make out with you mid field after a game. I'm just saying that every now and then, it seems like it would be a natural thing to do. You kissed me the first time we had sex, but after that it's been pretty rare and I miss it. There are so many times that I want to kiss you but I know you don't want me to, so I don't, " he rests his chin against you as he looks up at you.

"You can't look at me like that, I'll cave," you roll your eyes.

He grins at you and gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

"You and your stupid brown eyes and long eye lashes" you chuckle.

"Why do you want to kiss me so bad? Dying to know what you taste like?" you try to hold back a smile.

He nudges you backwards as he stands up, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. "I want to know what I taste like on your tongue," he speaks quietly, heat flashing through his eyes.

"Kiss me then," you whisper.

He doesn't hesitate or give you a chance to change your mind before his lips are on yours.

He moans softly into your mouth as you deepen the kiss, giving him what he wants and swirling your tongue against his so that he can taste himself.

He squeezes your hand before dropping it so that he can grip onto your hip and pull you closer to him while his other hand cradles the back of your head.

You know this is not what you need to be doing as the butterflies erupt and your head gets fuzzy but you can't make yourself stop. You're in trouble, and you know with every fiber of your being that you'll probably end up with your heart shattered into pieces, but at this very moment there is nothing you want to do besides kiss him.

He pulls away breathless, before crashing his lips to yours again. His head swimming with a million thoughts and nothing but the feel of your lips on his at the same time. He's not sure when you'll kiss him again, so he's going to take advantage of every single second that he can.

He tilts your head back and trails kisses along your neck and jaw before finding your lips again and dipping his tongue into your mouth, reveling in the quiet whimpers and moans that are escaping you.

When you both pull away, naturally breathless, he pecks you on the lips one more time.

"Don't get too used to that," you mumble against his jaw before you rest your forehead on his shoulder. He shakes his head and chuckles, knowing that even though he got his way for the moment, your reluctance is still going to be there.

He gently trails his fingers along your spine while you toy with the hairs at the nape of his neck and try to clear your brain of the fog that you're in.

"We have to go downstairs for dinner with the team," you whisper and he nods giving your hip one final squeeze before you step away from him.

He follows you into the bathroom and sits on the counter while you brush your hair and fix the light amount of makeup you're wearing so that hopefully it's not obvious what you've been up to.

You head down to dinner together, meeting up with everyone else and enjoying your usual banter with the team. Christian sits next to you and finds subtle ways to keep physical contact with you.

Typically you all hang out for a few hours after dinner, playing games, watching movies, or watching game films, but tonight everyone seems to be doing their own things. After dinner is over you make your way towards the elevator, Christian slipping away and joining you.

He presses the button for your floor and you look at him quizzically.

"Just making sure you get to your room safe," he smiles at you.

"I'm a big girl, Christian, I can get to my room just fine," you chuckle, but he ignores you.

He walks you to your door but before you let yourself in, you turn to face him.

"I would ask if I can stay but I already know the answer to that," he smiles softly at you. "But, in case you change your mind," he holds out the room key that Wes had used earlier in the day.

You grin and take it from him, slipping it into your pocket.

"Give me your phone," you smile at him as you pull out your own phone and share a digital copy of the key to your room to his phone.

"I didn't know that was an option, look at you being fancy," he chuckles.

He leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Night, y/n" he smiles at you.

"Night, Chris" you sigh.

You let yourself into your room and try to clear your head by going through your night time routine.

Once you've settled in the bed, you realize sleep isn't going to happen after tossing and turning for a while. You look over at the key laying on your bedside table and wonder if he's awake.

You could text him and ask, but instead you climb out of bed and slip on some shoes and grab what you'll need in the morning.

You quietly make your way to the stairs deciding it is probably the safest option this time of night to keep you from getting caught. Your room is two floors above Christian's, the coaches are on the floor between you, you know because you help arrange the accommodations.

You let yourself into his room, the lights are off, but his TV is on. As soon as he hears the door he knows it's you and he can't help the smile that spreads over his features when you drop your things on the dresser and take your shoes off.

"I didn't wake you did I?" you ask as he pulls the covers back.

"Nope, I was watching the other football," he grins, "you ok?"

"Couldn't sleep" you sigh as you climb into bed with him.

He holds his arm out, inviting you to scoot closer to him and he's a bit stunned when you tuck into his side and rest your head on his chest.

You watch football for a while with him, chatting about his beloved Jets before you drift off to sleep.

He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, "night, baby," he whispers as he turns off the tv and pulls you close to him.

Tag list:

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @landoslover @brasiliangp

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic imagine #what nobody sees series

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montrealmadison · 7 months

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in your palace warm, mighty king

okay i’ve recently found myself on angel tree tiktok. if you’re unfamiliar with the concept, basically, some stores will put out a tree around the holidays with gift tags for anonymous local kids, and people coming in to do their own shopping can take a tag off the tree and buy kids gifts off their wishlists for the store to pass off to them. (the linked video shows it in action!)

anyway this got me thinking about jack zimmermann at the beginning of his career. he has been fabulously wealthy and privileged for his whole life, but he’s only recently started earning a massive salary of his own and has no real idea of what to spend it on. he’s comfortable. he has a car and a nice apartment and an engagement ring hidden somewhere in said apartment. he knows he should probably donate to a worthwhile cause, but he hasn’t figured out what.

one day, though, bitty’s visiting for the weekend and comes to the store with him, and right there in the entryway, he just… stops. jack doesn’t notice and consequently almost runs him over with the cart.

“you alright? careful, eh?”

bitty does not respond, because he’s looking at the tree.

“bud?”

jack follows his gaze. it really doesn’t look like much. it’s fake, unlit, and has seen better days if the way it’s a little flattened on one side is anything to go by. there is an equally squashed-looking stuffed snowman sat on the floor next to it. it’s the kind of thing your eyes slide over easily, hurrying from one place to another. blink and you’ll miss it.

bitty isn’t blinking.

“lord, i haven’t seen one of these in years,” he says. his voice is soft. he still isn’t looking at jack. “do you know what it is?”

jack doesn’t, so bitty explains. and when they inch closer, jack sees that all the ornaments he thought were plain paper before are actually printed with ages, shoe sizes, requests for warm coats and toys and cute jeans and deodorant. here and there is a specific wish—a bluetooth speaker. a particular board game. one kid, age eight, is fervently hoping for a bike.

and—okay. here’s the thing. they’ve been together for more than a year, and bitty is pretty willing to go along with jack’s desire to spoil him. but although he’s so open and accepting when jack wants to kiss him, or cook dinner for a change, or lay him out on their bed and make him feel good—he will always, always get uncomfortable where significant amounts of money are involved. it was the subject of the one and only fight that sent them to bed still heated. the fundamental difference between their upbringings is the hardest for them to grasp: jack has never known a life without plenty. and bitty—

“i think my parents put me on one,” bitty says. “the year we moved back to madison, after—”

the closet looms between them, black and yawning.

“well. you know. coach had to leave a good job in lawrenceville. took us a while to get back on our feet, i think. and that year, they couldn’t—i mean, i heard them talking at night about how we might not be able to make christmas work, when they thought i couldn’t hear them. but i still wrote my letter to santa, and there were a couple presents when i woke up christmas morning, so.” he scuffs one shoe on the industrial carpet. “maybe an angel sent ‘em.”

the words make something sizzle down jack’s spine and settle low in his gut. he steps forward, reaches out, turns over the nearest tag.

boy, age 11. shoe size: 8. wishlist: sneakers, earbuds, basketball, patriots merch, chapter books. loves fantasy and mythology.

once upon a time, jack spent three months in a rehab center designed specifically for the privacy needs of celebrity clients. his parents footed the bill, had the windows on all their cars tinted for him to hide behind when he got out. at the same time, thousands of miles away, bitty sat at the top of the stairs in his parents’ house and listened to them wonder if they could afford to keep the magic of christmas alive another year.

people are stepping around them to get out of the cold, now, their eyes skipping right over the tree and the boys in front of it. once upon a time, strangers on the street picked apart jack’s overdose like a piece of tabloid gossip. strangers on the street made sure a thirteen-year-old kid had something to unwrap with his family on christmas morning.

“bits?”

bitty sniffles, swipes at one eye with the sleeve of his sweater. “yeah?”

jack lifts the tag gently off its branch, catches bitty’s gaze. bitty’s intake of breath is so sharp it’s audible over the music playing overhead. do you see what i see?

“what do you think? wanna go get us another cart?”

#and then they buy those kids presents like it’s NOBODY’S BUSINESS #sorry this really got away from me but like… come on #my teeth are rotting out of my head jack zimmermann you’re a dingdong a gentleman and a scholar #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #omgcp #omgcheckplease #my writing

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orangameelectronics · 3 months

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the-broken-truth · 9 months

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Wednesday Wants To Collar Enid [Part 1]

Yandereish Wednesday Addams - After The Crackstone Incident - Before Leaving For Rest Of The Semester - Weems Is Still Alive - Wenclair

[Enid walks into her dorm in Ophelia Hall with wireless Bluetooth earbuds in her ears while jamming music from Seventeen with a smile on her face when she sees Wednesday standing in the middle of the room with her hands behind her back - her eyes locked with Enid's the moment she enters the room.]

Enid (Pulls one of the earbuds from her ear and pauses the music): Hey, Willa. Is everything alright?

Wednesday (Walking over to Enid with her hands still behind her back): Enid Sinclair, when we first met, I thought you were the missing piece of sunlight that had wandered too far from home. Now, I realize that you are the light that was destined to brighten my darkness. Unfortunately, I have fallen victim to the Addams Curse, which has chosen you to be my other half. Although I have no objections to this fact, there is something I need to make clear. Not to you, but to others who seem to misunderstand their place in the presence of greatness.

Enid (Raises an eyebrow): What are you talking about, Willa?

Wednesday: It has come to my attention that some people don't understand that you belong to me and me alone - like that Werewolf Harlot that got all in your face the moment you presented yourself as a Blood Moon Alpha and tried to throw herself at you.

Enid: Werewolf Harlot? You mean Chrissie?

Wednesday: I am angry with her. She had the audacity to stand before you as if she was worthy of breathing the same air as you. Although I feel the urge to harm her, I understand that you would not approve of such behavior, Cara Mia. Therefore, I will refrain from acting on my emotions. In order to prevent possible deaths and further misunderstandings, please accept this. (Pulls a black gift box wrapped in a grey ribbon from behind her back and holds it out to Enid)

[Enid takes the box from Wednesday's hands and uses her claws to tear open the wrapping paper and lifts the cardboard lip to see what is inside. A black leather collar with diamond fragments embedded in it with a metal tag rests on a velvet cushion in the box. The tag is engraved with the following inscription: "Enid Sinclair - Property of Wednesday Addams"]

Enid (Looks at the collar - eyebrow twitches - looks up at Wednesday): Willa, what the hell is this?

Wednesday: I'm staking my claim on you to make sure no one takes what belongs to me. Wear the collar.

Enid: Wednesday, I am not wearing a damn collar. I'm not a dog.

Wednesday: Wear the collar, Enid. (Takes a step towards Enid)

Enid: Hell no, Addams.

Wednesday: Enid... Either you wear the collar willingly or I shall place it around your neck myself.

Enid: You'll never take me alive, Wednesday Addams!

[Enid throws the collar and gift box in Wednesday's direction, causing the Addams Heir to grab it before it hits the ground. Enid turns on her heel and bolts for the door, throws it open, and runs out of Ophelia Hall.]

Wednesday (Runs into the hall): GET BACK HERE, ENID SINCLAIR! YOU WON'T GET AWAY FROM ME! (Chases after Enid)

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday wants to collar enid

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feyhunter78 · 8 months

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Chapter Five - You find Miguel's sister-in-law on Instagram, and Miguel asks you for help with his phone. Ch 6

You trail your fingers over the hand shaped bruises on your thighs, gently, not wanting to press into skin and further irritate the broken blood vessels, as you scroll through your phone. The bathwater around you is still warm, lavender scented bubbles covering the surface, a glass of wine on the flat edge of the tub.

You’ve been trying to find something, anything on Miguel’s family, and finally you’ve done it. An Instagram page pops up, @MinaQMorris, a stunning woman with long wavy red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. The first picture that comes up has her in an elegant, slinky black gown, her arm wrapped around the biceps of a taller man with tan skin and dark eyes, the caption reads: Another successful charity event with my love @GabrielOHara, make sure to sign up for our blood drive next month! Link in my bio!

It’s clear he’s Miguel’s brother, the resemblance is uncanny. Sure, Gabriel is a little skinner, and not as tall as Miguel, but they have the same smile, the same piercing brown eyes.

You shiver at the idea of a blood drive, you hate giving blood, the needles, the sight of it leaving your body, it’s painful and always makes you anxious.

You go to Mina’s tagged photos, finding Miguel’s Instagram quite easily. He has six photos, and it looks like either she or Gabriel forced him to post them. You laugh, it’s so like Miguel, you swear he’s technologically inept, he’s always asking you for help with his phone or his laptop. The only technology he does understand is in the morgue, and you wonder why he finds the morgue equipment so easy but his cell phone confusing.

A notification pops up at the top of your screen, and your eyes flicker up.

Miguel: Y/N, can you help me with my phone tomorrow?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say. You laugh and shoot back a quick response before continuing to stalk Miguel’s page.

Y/N: Sure, what’s wrong with it?

Miguel: Not sure, the sound stopped working.

You roll your eyes. He probably forgot to update the software again.

Y/N: I’ll look at it in the morning.

Miguel sends back a thank you, then the conversation falls silent, and you put your phone on the counter, closing your eyes and relaxing in the warm water.

The next day, you find Miguel waiting outside your office, phone in hand.

He has the latest phone, a sleek but clearly protective dark blue case on it. The lockscreen is a landscape with a gothic-looking manor in the background, and five or six people standing in the foreground with their backs to the camera. You never pegged him as a dark academia guy, but everyone has their thing.

“Okay, let me see it.” You say, taking a seat at your desk. Your office is cozy, covered with plants and brightly colored decorations, you're surrounded by death all day, you figured you might as well celebrate life in your own office.

He opens it and unlocks it before handing it to you and taking a seat in the plush rolling chair. Smiling up at you is Miguel, Gabriel, and Mina, they’re all dressed in dark colors, their outfits ostentatious and clearly expensive, glasses of crimson wine in their hands.

“Did you guys take this on Halloween?” You ask, motioning to the photo.

“Yeah, it’s Mina’s birthday, so her family throws a huge party every year.”

“That’s cool, now okay, did you check for updates?” You ask, going into the settings.

“Yes, and I made sure it was fully charged.” Miguel says, looking like a kicked puppy, as he pulls a rolling chair next to you.

You scroll through his settings, until you come to audio. It’s connected to his earbuds.

“Found the issue, it’s still in Bluetooth mode.” You tell him, swiftly disconnecting it and turning to hand the phone back to Miguel.

A woman’s voice comes through the speakers, and you all but throw Miguel’s phone at him. “Fuck, Miguel, oh baby, please, I need your big fat cock inside me—”

He scrambles to turn down the volume. “Shit, I—that was just a friend of mine, she—”

You hold up a hand, wanting to crawl out of your skin from embarrassment and strangely…jealousy? For a brief second you wanted to be that woman, be begging Miguel to fuck you, to feel him deep inside you, his chest pressed to yours, his lips against your ear whispering sinfully things that make your toes curl. “No, no, no need, what you do in your free time is none of my business.”

Miguel is stiff, curled inward, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. “No, no, y/n, I mean it, she’s nobody.”

You laugh, not at him, to break the tension, but the sound falls flat, and you wave your hand dismissively. “Miguel, seriously, it’s no big deal. Yeah, I’d be a little embarrassed if I knew my boyfriend’s coworker heard me moaning about how much I wanted him but, really, it’s fine, it was an accident.”

There’s a shift in him, his eyes darken for a fleeting moment, and he leans closer, his phone face down on your desk. He towers over you even while you’re both sitting, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“You moan like that for him?” His words are so quiet you barely hear them.

“What?” You blink at him, stunned, frozen.

Miguel’s voice is still quiet, a slight purr to it that sends goosebumps scattering across your skin. “Lo dudo. ¿Cómo podrías hacerlo cuando te deja tan necesitada? No princesa, solo me cantas así.” Trsl: I doubt it. How could you when he leaves you so needy? No princess, you only sing like that for me.

“I don’t speak Spanish.” Is all you can manage to say, a throbbing starting in your core at the way he watches you, the curl of his tongue around the accented words.

He blinks at you, slowly, like a cat, then pulls back. “You shouldn’t send him voice messages like that, it’s not safe, what happened here is a prime example of that.”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“Thanks for your help.” Miguel says suddenly, standing and leaving your office, seeming completely unfazed.

You can’t help but catch the way he pulls his lab coat closed as he leaves, and you catch a quick glimpse of budging fabric that makes you swallow hard.

How the hell does that fit into anybody? Fuck, who cares, I’ll let him make it fit, he can rearrange my fucking guts if he wants.

You hear Miguel choke, then start coughing as he walks away, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

I know Miguel is good with tech, he's scheming don't yell at me in the comments

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #vampire!miguel #vamp!miguel #vampire!au #miguel o'hara x you #morgue miguel #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #vamp!au

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