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naughtyneganjdm · 8 months ago

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Man for Hire

Summary: Eager to lose your virginity, you hire Negan who is a male escort to help you with your problem.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55642924

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is the first thing I've been able to write in a long time because school and work have been taking up most of time. This is really just a filthy one shot. I almost considered making this a short story for a while, but then decided to go with a one shot because...why not? (gif credit: @jdmorganz)

What the fuck were you doing here? That was really the question. The silence was eating away at you. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest and you were nervous. You’d never done something like this before. And you were starting to second guess your decision in making such a bold move.

Looking to the time, you felt the lump in your throat growing and your nerves heightened once you saw how close to the time you were waiting for actually was. This was so outside of your comfort zone. Spending money on something like this just didn’t seem logical in the end. Here you were sitting in the middle of an expensive suite at a very nice hotel in the middle of the city. The sights were beautiful and you were enjoying yourself, but the reason you were here is what had you so nervous.

Truth was? You were meeting someone. Well, kind of. You were paying someone to meet you here. Which was complicated in itself. If people were to find out that you were doing this, it would be hard to explain. At the end of the day, it was something that your best friend had convinced you would be good for you. You were in your early twenties and you were still a virgin. It wasn’t something that you originally felt bad about, but it always made things complicated when you went to date someone. There was always that stigma there of being a virgin. And you were never really comfortable enough to tell someone you were dating that you were one. There was also no one you ever felt comfortable enough with to actually have them take it. Sure, you’d fooled around with a few people, but you never actually followed through with all of it. You were just always so busy working and going to school that you never felt the need for sex. Now that you were older, well, it felt awkward being the only virgin that you knew. It was an embarrassing thing, so the only person who really knew at the time was your best friend. Who convinced you it would be for the best if you hired a professional to help you out with your ‘problem’. That way there was no judgement, it would be done by someone who should know what they were doing and you could hand pick who you wanted it to be. You wouldn’t have to worry about the dating process, you could just have sex and that would be that.

It's just the closer you got to everything, the more pathetic you felt. Your friend had found a couple of sites for you that you looked at together. Then you found one that you felt comfortable with and connected with the woman in charge. The woman was very personable, but straight to business. She sent you a list of men that would be available for you. She had asked you for some details and you were honest with her as to why you were doing this. There was no reason not to be.

After taking some time to look through your choices, you came to a profile that you ended up being immediately enchanted with. Negan. There were a lot of younger, muscular men that they were trying to sell, but you had always been attracted to men older than you. But from the first photo you were immediately drawn to the chiseled jawline of the man sitting on a motorcycle. He was wearing a leather jacket that was opened to reveal a gray Henley that laid underneath. A pair of worn-down leather jeans and black sunglasses. From the confident smile to his salt and pepper colored beard you were hooked instantly. Every photo you saw only drew you further in. In other photos his incredible dimples and gorgeous hazel eyes made you more confident that this would be your choice. Even the tattoos that covered his body made him more attractive to you. This was a man that would have caught your attention immediately if you saw him on the street. To say you were attracted to him would be an understatement.

After looking through the rest of the profiles that you were sent, you returned back to the woman that was in charge with the name that you wanted. At first, she tried to convince you to go with someone else. Even though she admitted Negan was one of their most popular escorts, she tried to give you other suggestions of who she thought would be better for your certain situation. A lot of them were the younger ‘cuter’ boys, but cute wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Once she realized that she wouldn’t be able to convince you otherwise, she agreed and set up this meeting. Negan was more expensive and the prices varied by the amount of time you wanted. Two hours, four hours or the overnight rate. You really thought two hours would be plenty enough, but your friend convinced you to get the whole night. You didn’t know why. You were just going to have sex with this guy and be over with it. Having him there with you afterwards would only make things awkward. You couldn’t change your mind now though. You already paid.

A knock on the door to your hotel room pulled you from your thoughts. It jumpstarted your heart in your chest and you felt incredibly nervous now. Standing up from where you were seated, you adjusted the material of the tight fitting black dress that you were wearing. Making your way over to the door, you nervously outstretched your hand to turn the doorknob and felt the breath leave your lungs when you pulled it open. Leaning against the doorframe stood the man from the profile, his hazel eyes looking over you curiously. A charming smirk tugged at his lips while he gazed over you. What he was wearing actually surprised you. It was a bit different from the photos in his profile, but you didn’t hate it. He was well groomed, his body donned in a very expensive looking black suit that was only buttoned in the middle drawing your eyes to the white button down that was underneath. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone revealing the thick curls of hair over the center of his naked chest.

You were so distracted taking all of him in, that you missed when he said your name. Speaking louder, the tone of his deep, raspy voice sent chills down your spine. In his right hand, he had a single red rose and outstretched his hand to you when he finally got your eyes to lock with his.

“Can I come in?” he questioned, his nose wrinkling in amusement when he realized you must have been gawking at him. God, you must have looked like a fool just standing there in the doorway staring. Pushing the door open, you allowed him into the suite and accepted the rose when he stepped before you.

“Thank you. This is very sweet,” you commented on the gesture knowing that you were expecting a much different scenario than this one. Closing the door behind you, you noticed that he was standing rather close to you and it made a breath catch in your throat. Fuck. That’s when you noticed the smell of his cologne. It smelled amazing and only made him even more attractive. How was that even possible? Stepping forward, his hazel eyes stared down at you and it made you feel incredibly hot with how close he was.

Lowering down, the warmth of his breath lingered over your lips before he pressed a kiss over the side of your face. It drew your eyes to close, your lips parting when the kiss lingered and when they opened again, you could see him pulling back with a big smile over his face. The dimples were even sexier in person. Suddenly, you weren’t regretting your decision so much.

“You look gorgeous,” he started off, immediately complimenting you nodding toward the dress that you were wearing. “That dress looks really nice on you.”

“And look at you,” you waved your hand about pointing toward what he was wearing. “You look really sharp. I wasn’t expecting this whole getup with you showing up today.”

“Oh? This old thing,” Negan smirked, unhooking the button of the suit jacket before pushing his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s just say the woman in charge thought it would be a nice touch considering everything.”

“Oh, so you know?” you paused realizing that of course he knew that you were a virgin. He would have to know since that’s why you were doing this whole thing to begin with. “You probably think I’m a loser.”

“Why would I think that?” his eyebrows furrowed, a muscle in his jaw flexing when he tipped his head to the side. “Every person’s situation is different. Who the fuck am I to judge? That’s not my job to judge.”

“And what is your job exactly?” you spoke quietly and he snickered. God that was stupid. “I mean, I know you’re an escort. I just, should I call you Negan? I don’t even know if that is your real name. It’s probably not, right?”

“No, that’s my real name,” he admitted with a bob of his head, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in a confident sweep. “I probably should use a fake name considering the job, but I like being authentically me. And to answer your question, my job is different for everyone. It’s my job to find out what someone needs so I can give it to them.”

“Smooth,” you outstretched your hand to his which he accepted and followed you over to the couch. First, he helped you sit before taking a seat next to you. A chill flooded through your veins. You understood why Negan was one of their most popular escorts. He was in here a few minutes and you were already ready to jump him. Setting the rose down on the coffee table before you, you turned toward him and felt bold in the moment. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here Negan. I’ve never done something like this before. Obviously.”

“What do you want to do? You have me for the whole night,” he reminded you, outstretching his hand to push a piece of hair out of your face. Sweeping his thumb in over your jawline had you leaning into the warmth of him with your eyes fluttering to a close. “Did you want to go out for a night out on the town? Do you just want to hang out? Or…we can just jump right into things.”

“You mean sex?” you blurt out probably too fast which had him smirking and bobbing his head.

“That is what I mean, yes,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled with him sliding in closer to you. His arm hooked around the back of you with the warmth of his breath hovering over your bare shoulder. Suddenly the smell of his cologne filtered through your lungs. Desire overtook you and you had to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. A minty scent also fell from his lips from a gum that he undoubtedly had been chewing on before he had showed up. “It’s all up to you what you want. What your fantasy is.”

As he spoke, Negan’s head lowered closer to the crook of your neck. Nuzzling his nose in against your flesh had you sucking in a sharp breath of air which was followed by him depositing a faint kiss over your neck.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but do you think we can talk first?” you wondered standing up from the couch which seemed to surprise Negan a bit, but he nodded as you headed over toward the bottles of alcohol that were in the corner of the room. You should have just jumped him right then and there, but your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you want some bourbon?”

“I’m more of a gin guy,” he responded, standing up from the couch when you looked through the bottles and pulled something out that you thought he would like. “Is everything okay?”

“You want me to be honest?” you spoke faintly while you poured both him and you a drink hoping that it would help settle your nerves. With a nod of his head, Negan smirked and stood by the window to look down at the city beneath you. The bright colors were reflecting on the walls and he seemed to be in awe of the lights. Stepping in beside him, you held out the drink you got for him which he accepted, with his fingers brushing up against yours. “I’m starting to regret doing this.”

“Am I not what you expected?” suddenly he seemed almost offended, clutching the glass tightly in his hands when he turned to look at you. “I told Michonne that I should have just warn what I usually do because…”

“No, you’re perfect,” you immediately interrupted him, placing your hand over the center of his chest to get him to focus on you. “God, you are fucking gorgeous. And that’s the thing. You are this beautiful man and I’m a virgin that you are going to have sex with. I’m probably going to be awful and…”

“Oh,” an amused chuckle fell from Negan’s lips when he took a sip of the drink, his free hand placing in over yours to give it a firm squeeze. Swallowing down the sip, he looked to you and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Please don’t. It’s not something to worry about. People who have sex all the time sometimes aren’t even that good. Plus, my job is to make everything perfect for you. Whether we have sex or not. Don’t let the expectations of sex distract you and make you nervous. I’m a very chill fucking guy. You’ll walk away with a good experience by the morning, I promise you that.”

“Cocky,” you smirked, throwing back your drink in hopes it would give you some liquid courage. “I like it.”

“I just know I’m good at my job,” Negan assured you with a wink, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down, taking yours as well. Urging you back to the couch, he sat you down and took your hands in his when he lowered beside you. “I get the feeling you’d like us to get more comfortable with one another, so we will just talk for a while if that’s what you want. Or we can go out.”

“We can talk,” you were impressed with the way he was attempting to calm you down with the rough pad of his thumbs sweeping over the back of your hands. “Michonne tells me that you are one of her top escorts.”

“I told you, I’m good at my job,” Negan winked, his dimples becoming more prominent when he smiled and it took your breath away.

“So you must be really good at sex?” you suggested and it made him smirk again. You probably sounded really stupid right now, but you were curious.

“That and I’m the best at making people feel good. Not everyone that wants to have an escort wants sex. They want to feel special. They want to feel like the center of the universe and I’m good at that. I excel at reading people,” he explained, curling his finger underneath your chin to get you to tip your head back to look at him. With his eyes hooked on yours, you felt exactly the way that he described. Like the center of the world. “Some people are just looking for companionship. And I’m able to give that to them.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled with how close he was to you. Personal space wasn’t something that existed with Negan, but he was right. He was good at his job. “You know, Michonne tried to persuade me to get someone else instead of you. I’m curious as to why.”

“Well, she’s not exactly my biggest fan. Her husband and I have never really been able to get along,” he expressed with a wicked smirk, shrugging his shoulders when he spoke. “When people look at me, they assume that I wouldn’t be a good choice to take someone’s virginity.”

“She wanted me to pick someone like Siddiq,” you explained and Negan scoffed at your response. It felt like he was getting closer to you if that was even possible. “Thing is, I don’t want boyishly cute men.”

“Of course you don’t and you made a good choice,” Negan hushed you, his eyes now focused on your lips which had you frozen in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb drew across your bottom lip and it had you leaning in closer to him. “You want a man to take care of you. Because older men know what’s best. They do it better. And I’ll take really good care of you.”

After the final word left his lips, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours drawing your eyelashes to flutter to a close. Claiming your lips in a faint kiss had you leaning in closer to him. Your body’s reaction to him was almost instinctive when you started kissing him back. The sensation of his fingertips sliding in over the small of your back was felt urging you in closer to him. Every caress of his lips ignited the fire inside of you more for him with the rough sensation of his short beard at your flesh.

Pulling away, Negan’s eyes were closed and he was smirking when his long eyelashes fluttered to an open, “You’re a special one. I can tell.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the people you see,” you commented with a half-smile, finding yourself wanting him to kiss you again with the way he was touching your face.

“We could work on your confidence though,” Negan hushed you, bringing you to him again so he could nip at your bottom lip. Giving it a gentle tug, he flicked the tip of his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip making you purr. “You are a beautiful, charming, young woman. You could have given your virginity to anyone, and you picked me.”

Instead of responding, you leaned in to desperately bring your lips together again with Negan humming. When his lips parted, you brushed your tongue against his which had him sucking faintly at your tongue when you pulled back. The more you kissed, the more intense it seemed to get with his large palm sliding up over your side.

Hooking your fingers into his dark hair, you tugged firmly at it which had him growling out against your lips. With his tongue flicking out over yours, you found a sense of confidence in stroking your fingers over the center of his chest to tease at the thick curls of hair that covered it. Lifting your hands, you started to open the buttons in Negan’s shirt, eager to see more of him and he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Instead, his lips just trailed off over your jawline, over the side of your neck and to your shoulder to push at the strap of your dress to get it down over your arm to kiss at the flesh that was there.

Tipping your head back, your eyes connected with his when you got the last button undone and pushed apart the material of his shirt. Palming up and over the center of his abdomen toward his chest, you were in awe of his slender form. His lips were parted, his breathing heavy while you learned the lines of his body. Tracing your fingertips over the detailed tattoo over his pectoral muscle, you didn’t know how you were going to get away with this whole thing considering you were already addicted to this man and you barely knew him. Pushing into his chest, you got him to slide back so you could crawl in over his lap. Looking up at you, you agreed that he was good at his job because he had the look of absolute want in his eyes with you over him.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Negan slurred, lifting up to hungrily kiss at the side of your neck, reaching for the other strap of your dress to tug at it. With a grunt, Negan tugged at the material getting it pulled down your body to about your navel which revealed your breasts to him with a bounce. It had him tipping back to look you over with his adoration in his eyes. A wicked smirk tugged at his handsome features when he tipped his head down to start peppering kisses in over your collar bone. Hooking your fingers into his hair, you tipped your head back with his wet kisses covering the swell of your breast. Surrounding your nipple with the warmth of his mouth had your head tipping back with a moan. Sounds of his wet kisses surrounded you, his hands squeezing firmly at your hips. There was no questioning that Negan was very dominant in the way that Negan touched and kissed you, but you liked it.

With a swirl of his tongue over your nipple, he nipped at the sensitive flesh before trailing his kisses over to your other breast where he pampered it just the same. Yanking firmly on his hair, you had him staring up at you with his dilated pupils which took your breath away. Stealing a forceful kiss from his lips had him moaning. You two were just jumping right in, but it felt right in the way that it was happening. Negan’s fingers had dropped to squeeze at the back of your thighs to caress the flesh that was there. Sliding further up, he cupped your bottom under the material of your dress and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You don’t kiss like a virgin,” Negan growled, smacking firmly over your bottom eliciting a gasp followed by a moan from you. Staring over your body, his eyes focused in over your breasts and he sucked at his bottom lip.

“How do virgins kiss?” you wondered, dragging your fingers across his wet bottom lip. A snicker fell from his lips before he took one of your fingertips into his mouth. Nibbling faintly at the tip, he followed by flicking his tongue out against it making you purr.

“For the most part? They are shy? Timid,” he slurred, lifting up enough to hover his lips just in over yours. “Inside of you is a dirty girl just waiting to break free from the restraints you put on her.”

“Maybe you can help her break free,” you whispered, caressing over his chiseled jawline and it had him leaning in closer to you. A growl fell from deep within him when you teased the tip of your tongue over his lips and he reached to pull you in closer to him so he could claim your lips again in a hungry kiss. The taste of him was addictive. The more you had of him, the more you wanted him. Your blood was pumping through your veins with your heartbeat hammering inside of your chest. A flush went to your face and a warmth was flooding to your core.

Confidence overtook you and gradually you ground yourself down over Negan. Dropping his head back against the couch, his hands slid down over your hips while you took your time rubbing up against him enjoying the friction that it caused between the two of you. Beneath the material of his pants, the firmness of his masculinity was growing harder and you could feel it pressed against your bottom. It felt good and by the sounds he was making, he approved.

“Good girl. I think we’re breaking down the walls pretty fucking quickly here,” Negan insisted, the vibration of his words against your flesh causing you to moan. Dragging your palms down over the center of his chest toward his lower abdomen had a sharp exhale falling from his throat. His eyes were still locked on yours when you dragged your fingers across the belt in his pants. Lifting his hips, Negan attempted to help you when you started to pull the belt out of the loops. Tugging at the material had a rumble of an amused sound escaping him. Dragging his thumb across your bottom lip sent chills throughout your veins. “Y’know what you want now darlin’, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a smirk when you started working open the material of his pants. How this man looked at you took your breath away. Curling your fingers at the waistband of his pants, he lifted his hips up to help you get the material down his slender body. A surprised breath fell from your parted lips with the way his erection smacked up against his lower abdomen. Licking your lips, you stare lifted to his eyes. Arrogance flooded his features when a crack of a smile tugged at his lips. “And suddenly I see why Michonne suggested someone else for my first time.”

“Does that mean you don’t think you can take it?” he inquired, his right eyebrow arching in curiosity with you reaching down to trace your fingertips over the underside of the shaft. Just the mere touch had his cock twitching and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a big challenge,” you responded and with a bob of his head, Negan seemed proud of you. Teasing your fingertips from just under the head of his cock down toward the base had him licking his lips in a seductive sweep.

“Thatta girl,” Negan snickered with your fingers curling around his shaft, drawing his hips to bounce up toward your grasp. Sliding in further over his lap, you took your time caressing over his body appreciating the way his eyelids grew heavy with lust. Your thumb swept over the ridge of the tip of his cock and he growled out. “I promise you, you’re gonna love what he’s gonna do for you.”

“I’m not scared of him,” you assured him with a wink enjoying the amused sound that escape his lips before his deep, raspy moan followed. Kissing down over his jawline, you took your time pampering his body knowing that while this was technically meant to be about you, you wanted to cherish the perfect specimen of the man beneath you. Nipping faintly at the side of his neck had him hissing out while you pushed his shirt further apart to reveal his chest to you. Adjusting your positioning over him, you started to kiss down over his collarbone and over the center of his chest. Lifting your palms, you stroked your fingers through the dark curls of hair over his chest and swallowed down hard. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth, humming out again when you leaned forward to kiss over the center of his chest. Your kisses tampered off over his nipple appreciating the moan you got when you circled your tongue around the flesh. Whimpering out, it was almost hard to focus when Negan’s palm flattened out between your thighs to caress over the warmth of your body. It had your hips arching in closer to him when you sucked faintly at Negan’s skin. “You are so fucking wet already.”

It surprised him when you pulled away from him and moved so that you were sitting beside him. Lowering your upper half, you pressed tiny kisses over his abdomen and toward the v line over his hips leaving his flesh with hot wet kisses. Purring out, you felt Negan’s fingers caressing over your shoulders and toward your neck with your kisses lowering down. Sinking his fingers into your hair had you mewling out. You liked how it felt like he was being possessive with you. Delicately wrapping your fingers around the thick base of Negan’s cock, you stroked over it a few times before pressing a faint kiss at the tip. It had him growling out and you loved the sound it drew from him. Dragging your tongue across the tip made you purr out when his fingers grasped tighter to your hair.

Flattening your tongue out over the tip collected the taste of him on your tongue. Focusing heavily on the teasing aspect of it all, you pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses over his lengthy erection causing his breathing to grow louder. By the time you finally took him between your parted lips, it drew the most intoxicating moan from him. With his girthy length, you were doing your best to pleasure him to the best of your ability, working to jerk him off at the same time while bobbing your head over his length. The strength of Negan’s hand at the back of your head also helped set a steady pace that you were comfortable with.

Once you seemed to have a handle on things, you felt Negan’s palm sliding down over your shoulders, over your back before extending out over your bottom to give it a firm squeeze. Another smack over your flesh had you moaning around his cock. It had him twitching beneath you. The wet sounded of your mouth filled the quiet hotel room. Pulling away with a wet sound, you stroked your hand over his body when you lifted your stare to see that he was watching you with awe.

“Lay back,” Negan instructed, getting up from the couch with his hard cock bobbing with the movement. Carefully pulling off his jacket, he set it on the back of the couch and eagerly slid out of his button-down shirt. Tossing it with the jacket, Negan took his time to shimmy out of his pants after managing to pull his boots off. Snapping his fingers, you obeyed his order when you carefully lowered yourself back against the couch. Your heart was hammering in your chest when Negan grabbed a tight hold of the material of your dress to get it down your body leaving you laying stretched out on the couch in just your black panties. Getting to his knees, he hooked his fingers loosely into your panties, urging you to lift your hips with the tug of them. “How did you know black was my favorite color?”

“Lucky I guess,” you whispered, a tingling sensation at your skin with the way that he was looking over you as he unhurriedly pulled the material from your body. Tossing the material aside, Negan brought your leg up depositing a gentle kiss over the inside of your ankle with his eyes locked on you. Gradually, his kisses raised further up your leg having you a breathless mess when he got to your knee.

“If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let me know,” he slurred, nipping faintly at your flesh before lowering down onto the couch getting himself comfortable between your thighs. Curling his arms around your thighs and under your hips, Negan pulled you in closer to him getting a gasp from you and it made him smile. “You have a very pretty pussy. It’s a shame you haven’t been letting someone pamper it like it deserves.”

Reaching up, the roughness of the pad of his thumbs traced a line over your sensitive folds and it had you dropping your head back, biting down on your bottom lip with a mewl. Down his fingers went over the lips, toward your entrance before circling back to go up and sweeping over your clitoris. It had you panting, his eyes watching you closely to see how you responded to things.

“Good girl,” Negan hummed, lifting his fingers up to suck faintly at the tips. “Daddy is gonna take real good care of you.”

Hearing him refer to himself as daddy sent a jolt straight to your core and you purred out, your hips arching up toward him with him releasing a sound of approval. Doing the same dance over your sensitive flesh, Negan started to pepper kisses over the inside of your thigh. Your breath was hitching in your throat and you wanted to tip your head back, but you couldn’t. You wanted to watch the beautiful man between your thighs that was there solely aiming to do nothing but please you.

Each kiss grew closer until the wet sounds of him kissing over your heated flesh was heard. Licking your lips, something that resembled a whine fell from them and he smiled against your flesh. Dragging out his tongue, he flattened it over the length of your folds dragging it from your entrance which had you tremoring upon contact up to your clitoris where his tongue circled before back again.

It was about learning your body and Negan was doing just that. Paying close attention to everything that made you react. With his lips surrounding your clitoris you found the cries that fell from you involuntary. Each sound you made seemed to fuel him only enhancing the sensation of what he was doing. And by the sounds he was making against your flesh? He seemed to be enjoying himself just as much, finding pleasure in the sounds he could draw from you.

Grunting out, he pushed into your thighs to lift your hips in closer to him. Dropping your fingers down, you hooked them into his dark hair when you felt his tongue circling your entrance before dipping inside of you with a strong sweep. Cooing out, you tugged firmly at his hair having him groan against your most sacred parts. A wet sound filled the air when Negan pulled back away from your body, licking at his wet lips.

Adjusting his body, he hooked his arm around one of your thighs while his free hand lifted to drag his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sliding them down, Negan lifted his head when his middle finger circled over your entrance. Tipping your head back against the couch, you whimpered when he took his time pressing his long slender digit inside of you. A raspy moan fell from his throat when he felt the warmth of your body surround his finger and it made him smile.

“You okay?” he confirmed pressing a wet kiss at the inside of your thigh, leaving a tiny nip at your flesh when he pulled back. Nodding, you didn’t have much that you could say because you were so focused on the sensation. When he had the okay that you were comfortable enough, he started to drag his finger back before pressing forward into your body again. Biting down onto your bottom lip, you whimpered as Negan’s lips surrounded your clitoris sucking at the sensitive nub. Every part of you felt hot. He was taking his time with you, not trying to rush things and he was doing a hell of a job with it. Your body was already trembling and he knew what he was doing to you when he inserted another finger into you. One thing about Negan’s fingers? They were big and he knew just where to caress inside of you to have your writhing beneath him, your hips arching up toward the talented caress of his lips and tongue over your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasped, lifting your head to watch him while he pumped his fingers inside of you, hitting a certain spot that had your toes curling, your fingers clinging tighter to his hair and your cries growing louder. Loud, wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and an occasional moan from Negan would vibrate against your flesh. Your thighs tensed up, starting to twitch when you tried to hold back, but with what he was doing at feasting on your body had you moaning out his name. A pleased groan pressed against your flesh when the thrusting of his fingers grew stronger when he clearly got you to an orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, a rush flooding to your head leaving you absolutely breathless. “Oh my God.”

“And that’s just the start,” Negan snickered after pulling his mouth away from your body. When his fingers left you, a whimper followed. Seeing him using those same fingers to drag them across his bottom lip had your heart hammering harder inside of your chest. Sucking at his fingers, Negan groaned at the taste of you over them before reaching for you. Managing to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder had you gasping and clinging tightly to him. A firm smack was placed to your bottom and it made you moan. “Daddy’s got you darlin’. Don’t worry.”

Once Negan made it to the bedroom, he was careful in the way that he lowered you at the center of the bed. That’s when the room started to spin around you. Suddenly this was becoming all too real what was about to happen. Your eyes fell to Negan’s swollen cock and you felt your mouth go dry looking at it.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan held his finger up, going into the sitting area to grab something before returning with a condom and some lube. Getting onto his knees at the bottom of the bed had a breath catching in your throat when you pressed up onto your hands. Outstretching your hand, you palmed in over the center of his stomach, dragging your fingers down over his navel to tease through the dark curls of hair that were there that led to the base of his thick cock. Stroking his fingers over your shoulder, Negan hummed when you started kissing at the area right below his bellybutton. Grasping his shaft firmly, you took the tip back between your lips with your eyes staring up at him hoping to see his reaction while you pleasured him. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was slightly bulging when he dropped his head back and moaned out. “Fuck.”

Allowing you to give him a blowjob for a few moments led to him curling his fingers into your hair to pull you back. A wet popping sound followed when your lips pulled from his cock and he stroked the saliva over his body.

Reaching for the condom, Negan urged you to wait. Still caressing over his hip, you wanted to make sure to still touch him when he went to open the condom.

“Do you use a condom with everyone?” you questioned noticing the smile that tugged at Negan’s lips when his thick eyebrows bounced up.

“Kind of the rules, so yeah,” Negan answered you, licking at his lips when you wrapped your fingers around his cock to stroke over it firmly. “Why? Do you want me to do it without a condom?”

“You’d do that?” you were almost intrigued when he smirked, his hips bouncing up toward your grasp.

“Well, you’re a virgin. I know I’m clean because I have to make sure of it,” Negan bobbed his head back and forth, sucking at his bottom lip when you dragged your tongue out over the length of his cock again. It had him moaning out, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close again. Truthfully? You didn’t care what he did. You just wanted him and you wanted him bad. “I can make an exception for you if you can keep a secret.”

“Keep a secret?” you mused, kissing at the underside of his cock having him humming out when his eyes came to a close. “Will your boss really get that upset with you for having unprotected sex with someone? You’d be willing to get in trouble for me?”

“Would Michonne get pissed at me? Probably. But you’re worth the risk,” Negan’s fingers curled around your throat, leading you back against the bed. A sharp exhale fell from your throat when he set the condom beside you on the bed and reached for the lube that he brought. Releasing your throat, he opened the bottle and poured a significant amount into his hand before stroking it over his cock slicking his girthy length with it.

“Is there much of a difference?” you whimpered when Negan very slowly crawled in over you, covering you with the weight of his body. The warmth of it radiating against your flesh.

“It’s more intimate,” Negan started peppering kisses over your lips, nipping at your bottom lip. “Some men like wearing condoms because it prolongs their orgasm, but I last long regardless.”

Lifting your head, you looked between the two of you to see that his cock was resting against your lower abdomen and it made you lick your lips. A sense of panic filled your veins in that moment, but Negan reached for your jaw to get you to rest your head back.

“Are you on the pill?” Negan confirmed and you nodded your head, feeling a rush of excitement with the smirk he gave you. Balancing himself on his left arm, Negan reached down between the two of you and you felt him dragging the swollen mushroom tip between your lips causing you to whimper. “It’s okay. Don’t get worried now. You’ve been such a good girl so far. Daddy is gonna take good care of you.”

Smacking sounds filled the air with Negan tapping his heavy cock against your sensitive clit getting you to arch up toward him. Hovering his lips in over yours, Negan adjusted himself before lining himself up with your entrance. Lowering over you, he reached for your wrists to pin them beside you on the bed. Squeezing firmly at them at first, Negan had you shaking beneath him when he slid his fingers to tangle his with yours. Pushing forward had the swollen tip entering you pushing past the ring of muscle that was there. It had Negan’s lips part, his jaw lowering and his eyelids growing heavy. Your cry followed with Negan dipping down just enough to press a faint kiss over your lips.

“Fuck,” Negan nipped at your lips when he pushed his hips forward just a bit more leaving you with a completely foreign sensation. It hurt at first, but you assumed that was normal since Negan from what you knew was bigger than most men were. “Look at me.”

Your eyes connected with his when he filled you with just the first few inches. His fingers squeezed tightly to yours, your whimper falling from your lips. Allowing you to get used to just that, Negan started to pamper you with kisses, pulling his hips back slightly allowing the tip to pull from you before pushing it back in. It was a unique feeling, but with every motion, you found your hips raising to meet his movements.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Negan growled, the warmth of his breath hovering over your lips, but you didn’t want it to stop. No, you wanted more of this. Lifting your hips up higher toward him, you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted him to give you more and it made him smile. Rolling his hips, Negan filled you completely leaving you to let out a moan. God, you felt so fucking full with him inside of you. And you liked it. It was uncomfortable, but you felt like in that moment you belonged to him and every part of you was his. “Fuck, you are so goddamn tight.”

“Your cock is so big,” you whined against his lips, lifting your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss that he was eager to reward you with. You wanted him to move, but you knew that he was giving you time to get used to him. To feel him and be close to him. A loud, throaty moan escaped his lips with his eyes squeezing shut and you purred out. “Please…”

“Move your body with mine,” Negan instructed, his hips rolling back before pushing forward again. Doing what he said, your hips eagerly met every one of his thrusts and you winced when each movement started to get harder. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head. You knew the pain would subside because with each movement the pleasure started to grow. The friction from his groin rubbing up against your clit felt incredible and you rocked into every movement he made. Plunge after addictive deep plunge had you moaning out, whimpering out his name and enjoying that he was just as much verbal as you. Burying his nose against the side of your neck, Negan kissed over your flesh and the smacking of your skin together felt incredible. “Do you like that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck me,” Negan pulled back with a wicked smirk, his left hand pulling from your hand to slide up over the side of your neck to grab a firm hold of your jaw. “I think you just might be my favorite.”

“As long as I’m yours,” you exclaimed, dropping your head back with the incredible sensation that Negan thrusting inside of you was giving you. Once he found a certain spot, his thrusts were planned and meticulous.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Negan hissed, dropping his head to watch his cock already coated in your slick while he thrust into you time and time again. The tip of his cock was rubbing up against your g-spot in varying different speeds and it hand your toes digging into the back of his thigh muscles. Your cries turned to breathless pants, with you trying to lift your head to watch what he was doing, but he shook his head. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you answered with a whine knowing that at this point it was true. Whatever Negan was doing, he was doing it right leaving you with a tingling sensation flooding your body. Desperately reaching up, with your free hand you brought Negan to you to kiss him with his tongue brushing up against yours and his fingers squeezing tighter where he was still holding your hand. By the sounds you were making, Negan must have picked up on the fact you were about to come because his thrusts grew more determined. With a wail, you pulled your hips up and away from Negan, which was followed by a proud, amused sound. Your eyes slammed shut, your hips shaking with Negan’s free hand dropping to caress over your sensitive bundle of nerves, enhancing your orgasm with his caress. “Fuck! Fuck…”

“Look at you,” Negan snickered nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck with your coos of pleasure surrounding him. “Your first time and you’re already soaking daddy’s cock. Kissing up over the side of your neck, Negan let you take a moment to gather yourself before hovering over you again. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Hold on tight.”

Nodding, you did as he instructed and gasped when he pulled you up and got into a kneeling position on the bed. Getting you to straddle his hips, Negan reached between the two of you and helped you lower down over his cock while you braced your feet on the bed with Negan’s hands bracing against your ass. Dropping your head back, you cried out at the way he filled you.

“You like the way that feels?” Negan slurred against your lips, starting to use his strength to help you bounce yourself over his cock. Your right arm stayed hooked around his shoulders to keep you up, while you balanced yourself back on the bed with your other hand to help your movements. “Fuck, your tight virgin pussy feels so fucking good around my big cock.”

“Yes,” you gasped out, following the way that Negan was instructing you to move your hips over his cock allowing you to take all of him again and again. You probably sounded like a broken record with how many times you were saying it, but it felt so good at this point. Bracing your left hand now instead on Negan’s thigh, you angled your hips hoping to get as much of him as you could. The wet sounds along with the two of you breathing heavily together filled the hotel room. “Your cock feels so good inside of me. Oh my god.”

Every roll of your hips over his length grew harder with his moans matching yours, “That’s my girl. You’re doing so fucking good.”

Whimpering out his name as he kissed down over the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but cry out with his right hand squeezing over your bottom to bring you over him while his left hand caressed up and over the small of your back. Pressing his forehead to yours, Negan made sure to keep the both of you close. Once your moans started to become closer together, Negan worked harder to bounce you over his cock.

“Are you gonna come?” he whispered and you nodded quickly, dropping your head back in ecstasy with the way he continued to fill you. Pulling your hips up and away once you hit your next orgasm led you to a euphoric sensation flooding your body. “Fuck, you’re just loving this aren’t you?”

“So much,” you whined when Negan seemed to easily grasp a hold of your hips to flip you over onto your stomach. Lifting your hips up just enough, Negan lowered down behind you with his tongue lapping at your body. His rough grasp palmed at your bottom having you crying out at the sensation. Not only was Negan doing what you paid for, he was going above and beyond to bring you to as many orgasms as he could. Curling your fingers around the comforter, you dropped your head and enjoyed the slurping sounds that came from Negan.

“Lower down baby,” Negan bit at your bottom making you purr as you felt his hands helping you to lay flat against the bed. Crawling in over you, Negan hooked his arm around your waist to pull your hips up slightly before leading his body back into yours with a wet sound. It had you both moaning out in unison with him nipping at your jawline when his steady thrusts started back up again. “I’m so happy you saved this tight little pussy for me. It’s like you were made for me.”

“All for you,” you hummed, happily accepting his fingers hooking with yours with the sounds of his hips smacking up against your bottom filling the air. “It belongs to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan’s free hand curled around your jawline to put a firm pressure on it having you wincing out in pleasure. “Who does this tight little pussy belong to?”

“You,” you whined with his thrusts growing stronger from behind you. “It belongs to you.”

“My name,” Negan demanded, his lips claiming yours having you crying out against his lips.

“Negan. It belongs to Negan,” you gave him what he wanted to hear, nipping at his bottom lip when he released an amused rumble of a sound. “I’m all yours.”

Snickering against the side of your neck, Negan chuckled before quickening the pace of his cock thrusting inside of you. You couldn’t believe how quickly you became addicted to the sensation of him stretching you and filling you completely.

Your moans countered each other’s with the sound of the headboard smacking against the wall. You wondered if anyone would complain considering you knew that the two of you were not being quiet. At all. Cooing out, your hips tried to pull up and away from Negan’s feeling that same build up he had done before inside of you so many times, but his hips followed your movements doing his best to keep moving inside of you until you pulled away with a whine.

“Christ,” your body shook and Negan moaned against the side of your neck. Just his body weight over you felt good and you didn’t know how you weren’t going to want this constantly now that you’ve had it. “Negan.”

“Come here,” he instructed, nudging your hip and getting you onto your back again. Getting comfortable, Negan braced his weight and got you to hook your legs around his waist. Your bodies were pressed together with his fingers sweeping over your jawline and his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Gasping out as he entered you again, your fingers slid up the lengths of his back before sinking into his hair. Smiling had his dimples even more prominent than before when he took his time rolling his hips back before forward again. This time it was about closeness and the connection between the two of you. Gradually with each thrust, the strength grew harder and quicker. Desperate to have him near, you pulled his lips to yours demanding the attention you wanted. Winces started falling from Negan’s throat with his moans growing louder.

“I’m going to come,” he grunted against your lips, his thick eyebrows furrowing with his lips parting and his moans becoming even raspier. Arching your hips up toward his thrusts, you lifted your head just enough to meet his dominant and forceful kiss. Each thrust became rough, with your winces against his lips drawing him to growl out. Biting at your bottom lip, Negan’s moans grew closer together when you felt the throbbing of him inside of you followed by the first sign of the warmth of his release. The expression over his face as he continued the rolling of his hips over you only turned you on more when you pulled him closer to you kissing over the side of his neck. After a few final thrusts, Negan’s breathing grew loud and he nuzzled his nose against the side of your neck with you clinging tightly to him. Negan pumped you full of his cum, his cock still throbbing inside of you after he reached his orgasm. You were surprised how much you enjoyed the feeling of it. “Fuck.”

Stroking your fingers through his damp hair, you felt like the world was spinning around you. Your body ached in the most amazing of ways and you loved the sounds of Negan’s deep breaths against the side of your neck.

With a throaty groan, Negan pulled his hips back and away from you allowing his softening cock to pull from your body. Whining out, you hated the empty feeling it left you with, but you felt the warmth of his release spilling out of you and sliding down your thighs.

With a grunt, Negan got up from the bed and you felt your heart sinking. Throughout the whole thing, Negan made sure to make everything very intimate between the two of you, so when he stood up you almost assumed that he was already getting ready to leave. He had done what you had asked of him of course, so what more did he need to do?

Closing your eyes, your breathing started to calm down with your skin feeling like it was on fire. As the bed dipped, you found yourself surprised to feel the warmth of Negan beside you again. Opening your eyes, you felt him wiping at the mess he made over your thighs with a tissue and you reached up to stroke over his jawline.

“I thought you were leaving,” you declared while Negan finished cleaning you up. Tossing the tissue into the garbage, Negan crawled in over you again and traced over your features with his rough fingertips. The way he looked at you took your breath away and you stole another kiss from his lips.

“Nope,” he shook his head with a smirk, peppering playful kisses over your jawline then your shoulder and then to your breast. Nipping at your nipple had your back arching up toward him and he growled. His left hand caressed in over the side of your body and you hummed. “You did so good. How do you feel?”

“I feel good,” you answered with a hum as hand lifted and his thumb swept over your bottom lip. “I mean, I ache, but I feel really good.”

“Good,” he slurred with a happy smirk, pressing another kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Resting your head over the center of his chest, you stroked your fingers over the damp hair that were over his lower abdomen. Pressing a kiss to your temple, Negan squeezed you in closer to him and it made you both smile. “Do you regret your decision?”

“Not one bit,” your answer was immediate, drawing what sounded like a snort from his lips and it made you lift your head from his chest to stare up at him. “The only thing I’m starting to regret is that this will be over soon.”

“Not that soon. You have me all night,” Negan reminded you with a wink, his raspy voice drawing you in to kiss him again. With an arrogant bob of his head, he gave you another one of his sexy smiles before squeezing over your bottom. “Which means I’m yours until morning.”

“Oh yeah,” your eyebrow arched in curiosity and he nodded his head.

“And lets not pretend that this is gonna be the last time,” Negan declared, his nose nuzzling in against yours when he claimed your lips in a kiss again. “We both know that after tonight, you belong to me. All of you belongs to me.”

----

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#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #Negan fanfiction #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smut #Negan Smith #twd smut #negan x you #negan imagine

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vivwritesfics · 3 months ago

Note

Heyy, i would like to make an request. Could you write fic about lestappen x reader where they’re are soulmates. (You don’t have to) Charles and Max are already in an established relationship and they meet the reader but max doesn’t want her because he is happy with Charles and reader hears Max talk bad about her like i don’t want her, we don’t need her etc. So she distances hersef from them but they regret it and want her back? With happy ending pls 🫣 Sorry, I hope you understood what I meant.. English is not my first language ☺️

Max Verstappen couldn't be happier. At twenty five, he found his soulmate (when I say found, Charles had been there all along. They just didn't realise they were soulmates until they turned twenty five).

Here they were, two years later. Everything for Max had been perfect. He thought it had been perfect for Charles, too.

He didn't realise Charles felt like there was something missing.

He couldn't explain it. When he realised Max was his soulmate, his heart had felt so damn full. He was overjoyed, and they didn't stop kissing for around a week.

But that empty feeling soon filled Charles. Something was missing. There was a fist sized hole in his heart that he didn't know how to fill.

Of course, she had to work for Red Bull. She walked in on the day of her twenty fifth birthday and immediately caught Max's eye. Like magnets, the two were drawn to each other. All through the day, and Max couldn't explain it. But then he found out it was her birthday.

He disappeared out of the Red Bull garage, and she dropped to the floor.

It was distressing, to have your soulmate ripped away from you for a critical few hours after you've found them. She gasped for air as tears ran down her cheeks, blurring her vision.

She couldn't help it, couldn't stop it if she wanted to.

And then, twenty minutes after Max ran off to the Ferrari garage, she passed out.

***

"I never wanted another soulmate, Charlie," came a hushed voice.

"Well, she's not just your soulmate." This one was closer, as if the person was sitting right beside her.

There was a pause, maybe the person was gesturing. "Do you know how rare three person soulmate groups are?" The first person pressed on. "Why did it have to be us."

"Get over it, Max," the second person snapped.

Max. Max Verstappen. Her soulmate.

"She's our girl, now. Besides, didn't it ever feel like something was missing? A missing piece of the puzzle?"

There was a moment, and then a sound. A door slamming as somebody left the room. "It's okay, Ma belle. He'll come around." Gentle fingers combed through her hair. Charles, it had to be. Max's original soulmate, and now hers, too.

She pretended to be asleep for just a moment longer, basking in the safety his touch provided

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plutoswritingplanet · 10 months ago

Text

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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cece693 · 3 months ago

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Brooding Edward (Edward Cullen x M! Vampire Reader)

I got a comment some time ago asking for more Edward Cullen fics, so I came to deliver :) Hope you guys enjoy it.

Summary: You don't know when your dislike of Edward turned into adoration, but you did know that you didn't like how close he was getting with the human, Isabella Swan.

tags: scheming Edward, jealous reader, hater to lover, making out, Bella used as a pawn in Edward's plan, mentions of Bella x Edward

Forks was a dreary town, always dripping with rain and cloaked in mist, a far cry from the places I’d roamed over the centuries. I’d arrived here on a whim, seeking nothing more than a quiet place to blend in, disappear among the mundane, and watch as the world turned on without me. But I wasn’t completely alone here. There were others of my kind, tucked away in the dense forests.

The first time I laid eyes on Edward Cullen, I knew immediately what he was—beautiful, yes, but also cold and distant, a façade of perfection wrapped around a soul that seemed perpetually weighed down. We didn’t speak much at first, just acknowledged each other as predators passing in the same territory.

But the more I saw him, the more I realized how irritatingly complex he was.

He wasn’t like the others—his siblings, his parents—who seemed content with the life they had carved out here, blending in with humans, attending school like everything was perfectly normal. Edward. had this air of constant torment, like he was wrestling with demons none of us could see. It grated on me. The self-imposed suffering. The way he would sit in class, staring out the window like the weight of existence itself was crushing him.

I couldn’t stand it.

“Edward’s always been like that.” Alice once told me when I asked why her brother seemed more brooding than the rest of them. She smiled, almost fondly, as if his moodiness was something endearing, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“You mean miserable?”

“He’s complicated.” she explained, and for some reason, that word irritated me even more.

Complicated. Right.

The more I was around him, the more I was drawn to observe his every movement, his every interaction. And it only made my disdain grow. Edward had this way of pulling people in without even trying—his impossibly good looks, the air of mystery that seemed to cling to him like fog, his quiet intelligence. Everyone wanted to know him, to understand him. But he kept everyone at arm’s length.

He was a contradiction—mysterious yet aloof, compassionate yet disconnected. And I couldn’t stop watching him.

It became a sick habit of mine, this strange fascination, though I told myself it was just that. I would catch glimpses of him in the halls at school, his expression always distant, as if he were somewhere else entirely. He rarely laughed or even smiled—everything seemed so goddamn serious to him. His siblings would joke around, ease into their lives here, but Edward? He remained on the outskirts, as though he couldn’t let himself relax, couldn’t let go of whatever it was that tormented him.

There was something maddening about it.

It wasn’t until Isabella Swan came into the picture that everything shifted.

She was new, fragile, and completely unaware of the supernatural undercurrent running through Forks. But Edward saw her. And it wasn’t just passing interest. I noticed it from the beginning—the way his gaze would linger on her in class, how his jaw would tense when she got too close to any of the other students, or how he disappeared for days after their first encounter, struggling to keep himself in check.

I remember the first time I heard them talking, watching from a distance, seated in the cafeteria among the other Cullens. Edward’s voice was soft but strained, his gaze locked on hers like she was the most precious thing in the world. The intensity in his eyes, the way his entire being seemed to revolve around this human—it was unsettling.

"She’s different." he told me once when I couldn’t stop myself from asking why he was so fascinated with her.

"Different?" I echoed, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "She’s human, Edward. She’ll die in a blink of an eye. What happens then?" He said nothing, just stared off into the distance, as if the very idea caused him more pain than I could understand.

It was then that the slow burn of jealousy began to fester inside me, though I couldn’t name it at first. The fact that Edward, who seemed indifferent to everything, had suddenly fixated on this girl—this fragile, breakable human—made something inside me twist. I was used to seeing him as distant, untouchable, yet here he was letting his guard down for someone like her.

I wanted Edward’s gaze on me. His intensity. His focus. The realization hit me harder than I expected, and it wasn’t long before that jealousy bubbled over into anger.

One night, the tension reached a boiling point. Edward had just returned from dropping Bella off, his face drawn, like always, but with something else in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore. Satisfaction. The kind of satisfaction that came from spending time with her. The kind of satisfaction I wanted him to feel when he was with me.

“Isabella this, Isabella that.” I sneered, my voice cutting through the stillness of the forest. Edward stopped in his tracks, his expression hardening as he turned to face me.

“What’s your problem?” His tone was cold, guarded.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my chest tight with the jealousy and frustration I’d been holding in for too long. “My problem is that you’re throwing everything away for her. And for what? She’s nothing special, Edward.”

His jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. “You don’t know her. You don’t understand.”

“Understand?” I laughed bitterly. “What’s there to understand? She’s human. You’re a vampire. End of story.”

“It’s not that simple,” Edward hissed, stepping closer, his presence looming. “It’s never been that simple.”

I stared him down, anger boiling over into something sharper. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? You’re losing yourself in her. You’re forgetting who you are, what you are. She’s going to be your downfall.”

He glared at me, and I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me roughly against him. “You’re wrong.”

Before I could snap back, Edward’s lips collided with mine like a strike of lightning, fierce and demanding, with none of the hesitation I’d come to expect from him. The initial shock froze me for only a second, but then the fire that had been building inside me for so long erupted, and I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer, forcing the kiss deeper.

His body pressed hard against mine, the coldness of his skin a sharp contrast to the heat pulsing through me. This wasn’t like anything I’d imagined—there was no softness, no careful exploration—just raw, primal need. His lips left mine briefly, trailing down the line of my jaw, his breath cool against my skin as he whispered, “You think I’m hers?” His voice was low and dangerous. “I was never hers.”

I gripped his shoulders, shoving him back slightly, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He smirked, that infuriating, knowing smirk that sent another wave of frustration and heat crashing through me. His eyes darkened, the gold-flecked with something more primal, more dangerous. “My relationship with Bella means nothing to me.”

I tried to shove him away again, but he held firm, his grip on me unyielding, his body pressing me back against the rough bark of the tree. “Bullshit,” I growled, but the anger in my voice was already fading, replaced by something I didn’t want to admit. “You’ve been obsessed with her—”

“Lies.” he interrupted, his lips hovering over mine, so close I could kiss him again if I leaned forward. “I needed her to push you, to make you feel what you’ve been ignoring for months.”

My mind reeled. “You’re saying this was all some kind of game?”

His smirk widened, but it wasn’t cruel—it was victorious. “Not a game. A plan.” His fingers trailed lightly over my collarbone, sending sparks through me, and I hated how easily he could get under my skin, how quickly he could break down the walls I’d built. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize it, to stop fighting me.”

“Fighting you? You never said a damn thing.”

“I didn’t need to. I knew you’d come to me eventually.”

The kiss that followed was harder, more desperate, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him closer, the fire that had been smoldering between us now raging out of control. His hands roamed over my body, each touch stoking the flames higher. I couldn’t think, his presence overwhelming every sense, every thought.

“I'm yours,” he growled against my lips, his voice rough and possessive. His hands slid under my shirt, cold fingers tracing over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Not hers.”

The words hit me like a punch, and I grabbed his face, pulling him back just enough to meet his gaze. “Say it again.”

His eyes bored into mine, that same victorious glint dancing in their depths. “I’m not hers. I’m yours.”

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sturnioz · 4 months ago

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shy!matt struggles to control himself when you give him head — he can't help it. it just feels too good. requested by. @bernardsbendystraws [ porn link provided ]

matt convinced himself that wearing a blindfold would help him feel more grounded, an idea that he couldn't really explain why, but he was so wrong.

instead of providing the comfort he thought he would have, the fabric only heightened his senses, amplifying every sensation he felt to an unbearable degree — a choked, guttural noise escaping his lips as he feels your breath, warm and teasing, ghosting over the tip of his cock that leaks with pre-cum.

his hips jerk, fingers gripping the edge of the sofa and mouth falling open as your hands wrap around him, pumping him in slow, languid motions, your tongue continuously flicking over the tip.

you're staring at him through your lashes as you stroke him, a grin spreading across your face as matt alternates between gasps and airy whines, his teeth gnawing down on his plush bottom lip to silence himself when he gets too noisy — although, you wouldn't mind, you are home alone.

fixing your position between his parted legs, knees a little tender and sore, you speed up your motions, stroking him. matt huffs out a breath as his head rolls to the side, your hands working quicker on his wet cock.

when you press your thumb to his tip, matt lets out a soft whimper, thighs trembling with each flick of your wrist as your grip tightens on him, squeezing to apply the right pressure that causes him to sink further down into the sofa cushions.

"how does it feel? feel good?" you dare to ask, unable to wipe the grin off of your face as you feel him twitch in your palm.

"g..good," he breathes out heavily, licking his lips. his fingers grip the cushions tighter, knuckles turning white as his stomach sucks in with a deep inhale, choking on air as you gently press your lips to his tip. "n-no, fuck. cum.. m'gonna cum."

you heart swells at how his voice cracks, how his tone sounds so whiney and helpless — but this is exactly what you wanted, gripping him tightly as your pump your hands around him, leaving your arm to ache at the speed and movement.

"fuuuck.. m'cummin'." matt cries with a long drawn out moan of your name and you immediately open your mouth, taking him in to feel thick ropes of cum shoot down the back of your throat.

matt's hands grip the back of your head in an instant, pressing your head down more, feeling you gag around him when your nose grazes his stomach. a mess of cum and drool bubble from the corners of your mouth as he grinds himself against your throat to feel it tighten around him, before he begins to uncontrollably thrust, driven by the sounds of your gagging.

it gets a little harder to breathe — tears brimming at your waterline, choking on the cum that repeatedly paints the back of your throat as matt fucks your mouth through his orgasm. you try your best to breathe steadily through your nose for him to enjoy it longer, but your feel his fingers fist your hair, slowly dragging his cock out of your mouth as he pulls your head back.

you gasp once the oxygen settles back into your lungs, grabbing onto his thighs for support and you watch through teary vision as matt quickly reaches for his blindfold, fingers making haste work of untying it.

once he pulls it off, he blinks to adjust to the harsh light, squinting slightly. his eyes move down to you between his legs, and he feels hot in the cheeks and flustered seeing how out of breath you look — and the saliva and cum around your lips — but he pushes that to the side, immediately cupping your cheeks.

"m'so sorry, baby. m'sorry, i..." matt panics as he apologies profusely, stroking your cheekbones. "fuck — m'so fuckin' sorry. felt too good cummin' in your mouth and i just — i couldn't help myself.. fuck—"

"it's alright," you reassure him, your throat hoarse from it being fucked and matt winces at the sound, leaning down to wrap his arms around you, his cheeks warm against yours as he holds you close, muttering his apologies again as you reassure once more. "it's okay, baby."

#©sturnioz #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #☆ shy!matt #꒰ shy!matt prompt ꒱

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star-girl69 · 1 year ago

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In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo x you

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azsazz · 7 months ago

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All's Well That Ends Well

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: our figure skater bby would totally wear azzies jersey over her pretty sparkly dress if he wanted her to 🥺

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,044

Notes: Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance & Out of Order world

_________________________________________

Raucous clapping and cheering surround you.

Your chest heaves from exertion, but it’s a good feeling, one that goes all the way to your bones, one you know will linger for days. That’s okay, because you nailed your performance today. This competition is in the bag.

The smile you’d been forcing onto your face for the entirety of your routine turns into a real grin at the noise. You pull yourself from your ending stance, taking a quick skate around the rink one last time, waving to those in the stands. The energy in the arena is insane and you’re really feeling it, a splitting smile on your face that falters when you meet the familiar hazel gaze of Azriel.

He’s not supposed to be here.

The Velaris Bat’s have one of their most important games of the season tonight against the Springview Wolves, their rival team of almost four decades. You have no idea how the feud started and don’t care to know; something about a broken bone or a girlfriend being stolen, you have no idea and didn’t care to listen when Cassian tried explaining it to you one night at the local dive bar you’d run into a few of the players at.

You’d turned right the fuck around when you saw them and pulled out your phone to text your friends to meet up with you somewhere else because you see enough of the hockey team whilst having to share one rink, but Azriel had caught you before you could dip outside and all but dragged you into the back alley for some precarious touching that you were not going to say no to.

You’ve been a little tense lately leading up to your competition. No one would have blamed you for what you did with the sexy hockey player.

Azriel looks proud. There’s a slight lift to the corner of his mouth, the most emotion he’ll show in public like this, even though he thrives off of the chaos of the arena when he plays. His hazel eyes sparkle as they track you, how you only have eyes for him as you skate closer, a frown on your face, no doubt wondering why the hell he’s here instead of warming up for his own game that’s set to start in a few minutes.

He couldn’t miss your performance, though. The one you’ve been raving about all semester. The one you were worried about all night a few nights ago when his head was buried between your legs. Not even that could keep you from thinking about your performance today, immediately after he’d drawn multiple orgasms from you, you went right back worrying.

Shifting on your skates, you fly toward the door. Ice sprays when you shift, stopping abruptly before passing through the door, ignoring your coach in favor of rushing over to where Azriel’s standing stock still.

“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, falling into his arms when he opens them. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his strong hands warm on your hips. He’s here, he’s really fucking here.

He’s dressed in his hockey gear, and it’s clear that instead of hitting the ice with his team he’s snuck to the finally finished rink to watch your routine.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispers, and Azriel can’t help but pull you further into him. Can’t help but to dip down and capture you in a kiss so searing that it fully takes your breath away. It’s a little awkward, because of all of the padding he has on, but the both of you make it work. He adores the blush that stains your cheeks pink when you pull away, and it really is a shame he has his cup on right now, because his erection is pressing painfully against it. “Cass and Rhys are covering for me. I couldn’t miss this.”

“Really?” Tears fill your eyes. He’s proven himself to you, time after time, that he’s here for you, even though the both of you aren’t anything more than friends who like the feeling of each other’s fingers and tongues, hands, and intimate parts. “But your game, it’s important.”

“I’ll make it before puck drop,” Azriel reassures, “If I leave, well, now actually. I just needed to see you. Wanted to give you this.” You hadn’t noticed the jersey hanging over his arm, but when Azriel holds it up, showing off the number eight and his last name to you. “I hate to cover up your dress because you look sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, drinking you in once again. The feeling of his hot gaze makes your knees weak. “But I’m a selfish man. I can’t have anyone else looking at you like this, baby. And I want to see my name on your back.”

Fuck, does he have a way with words.

“Okay,” you breathe, letting Azriel help you into the black and purple jersey. It drapes long over your body, the fabric swallowing you, but you don’t care because the look in Azriel’s eyes is pure fire. “How do I look?” You ask innocently, giving him a twirl and reveling in his agonized groan.

“Tell me you’re mine tonight,” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into him by the fabric of the jersey. You move into him easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel’s breath is hot across your lips, and if you weren’t in the middle of a competition, you’d let him take you right now. “We’ll both have something to celebrate.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and Azriel grins, tilting his head to the scoreboard behind you with your scores. You currently hold the top score for the competition, with only a few skaters left to go. Holy shit you’re in first place.

You squeal, jumping up and down in his arms. Indeed, you’ll have something to celebrate tonight, when the Bat’s take home their win, and you with your own.

“Yes, Az. I’m yours,” you whisper, accepting his kiss. “Now, go beat the Wolves. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You better be,” Azriel says with a wink and a teasing pinch to your ass. “I need my good luck charm there to help me win.”

_________________________________________

Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @blackthorngirl @i-am-infinite @feerique

#hockey!azriel #hockey!bat boys #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel/reader #acotar hockey au

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amuyyi · 5 months ago

Text

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it.

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.)

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man.

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add!

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them.

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream.

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…”

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness.

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And aren't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth.

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

#kpop x female reader #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x fem reader #gxg #gg fanfic #kpop gg x reader #kpop gg #newjeans x reader #danielle x reader #hyein x reader #danielle marsh x reader

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doritochoi · 5 months ago

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Office punishment| C.S

pairing: fem!reader x boss!choi san

genre: pure smut, 18+

warnings: explicit sexual content, public sex, rough sex, oral sex, eating cum, dominant language + much more

The day starts in total panic. Your phone's alarm had been ringing for a long time, but you only now manage to open your eyes. In a quick leap, you get out of bed and head for the bathroom. Your mind wanders to the important meeting at 8 o'clock and the inevitable reaction of your boss, Choi San.

Choi San, the young billionaire, was a true magnet for all the women in town, including you. But even though you've always admitted that you find him charming, you've tried to keep a professional distance. His piercing eyes and protruding jaw often appeared in your thoughts, but you tried not to let these fantasies affect your work. You quickly put on the first outfit you can get your hands on: a shirt and a skirt, both slightly wrinkled. "I don't have time to iron anymore," you say to yourself, glancing desperately at the clock. You rush to grab a coffee, but in your haste you spill some on the kitchen counter, but you don't have time to clean up right now. You call a taxi and wait impatiently in front of the block, kneading your fingers. “I hope I make it in time, I hope he's not too upset,” you think as the taxi finally arrives. You quickly get in and tell the driver the address of the company, begging him to hurry. On the way, you check your phone and see that you have some unread messages. One is from your friend, thanking you for coming to her party last night. The others are from your colleagues, who inform you that Choi San has already arrived at the office and does not seem in a good mood.

Arriving at the company, you took a deep breath, trying to regain your confidence. You entered the doors of the building with your head held high, even though you knew you were late. All the employees were looking at you with curiosity mixed with a hint of reproach. As you walked down the hall, you wondered why everyone was acting strange. It was clear there was more than just you being late. You made your way to the office to talk with Jongho, Choi San's efficient and always knowledgeable secretary. You leaned into him slightly, trying to look calm. "Jongho, do you know what's going on? Why is everyone so tense?" you asked him, trying to keep your voice calm. Jongho looked at you with a serious expression, stopping from typing on the computer. "It's about the morning meeting," he said quietly. "It didn't go well and Mr. Choi very upset. - "The meeting? I'm late, but… I didn't think it would be this bad..," you said, feeling your stomach tighten. "Yes, you're late, but that's not the only problem. Mistakes were made in the presentation and the customers were not happy at all. Mr. Choi was counting on you to correct some mistakes, and the fact that you weren't there made it worse, Jongho explained, looking into your eyes. "I didn't know it was so important..."

You walked away from Jongho with fear mixed with determination. You knew San could take drastic measures – either fire you or do something even worse. But you were determined to take responsibility and apologize. You entered the elevator and pressed the button for the floor where San's office was, feeling the tension rise with each floor the elevator went up. When you arrived at his door, you smelled the sweet and inviting smell of vanilla, his signature scent that always reminded you of his charming presence. You felt your hands sweat and your heart began to pound in your chest. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in," he says, his voice deep and commanding. You take a deep breath and push open the door, your eyes immediately drawn to his handsome face. He's dressed in a suit, looking every inch the successful businessman, with an aura of authority that fills the room. "You're late," he says, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you feel as if he's peering into your very soul. You can feel your body trembling as you muster the courage to apologize, your voice shaking. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure it won't happen again," you say, your eyes fixed on the ground, too ashamed to meet his piercing stare. "Look at me when you speak," he commands, his voice softening but still carrying an edge of authority. You raise your eyes to meet his, and you can feel your body responding to his gaze. His eyes, dark and captivating, hold a mixture of disappointment and something else that makes your heart race. He stands up from behind his desk, slowly making his way towards you. The scent of his cologne, a tantalizing blend of vanilla and sandalwood, becomes more pronounced, wrapping around you like an invisible embrace. You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing. "You know how important this meeting was," he continues, his voice low and almost gentle now, but with a hint of flirtation that sends shivers down your spine. As he speaks, his hands come to rest on your small waist, his touch both comforting and electrifying. He gently caresses your sides before his fingers move to adjust your skirt, smoothing it out. He glances down and notices the wrinkles, a playful smirk appearing on his lips. "You really should take better care of your appearance," he says, his tone teasing as his eyes meet yours again. "A wrinkled skirt doesn't quite match the professional image we're aiming for, don't you think?". The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. San's eyes remained locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. You could feel the heat rising between the two of you, the air charged with an electric current that made your skin tingle. His hands, still resting on your waist, gripped you a little tighter as he leaned in closer. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating that made your knees weak. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, "You know, I've been very patient with you." Your pulse quickened at the low, seductive tone of his voice. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, trying to maintain your composure, but it was getting harder by the second with him standing so close. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark and dangerous, filled with something that sent shivers down your spine. "Sorry isn't enough," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You need to prove to me that you understand the gravity of your mistakes."

Before you could respond, he moved suddenly, pinning you against the wall with a force that took your breath away. His leg slid between yours, his knee pressing against your core in a way that made you gasp. The hard length of his arousal was unmistakable as it brushed against you through the fabric of his pants, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. "Do you think this is a joke to me?" he asked, his tone dripping with dominance as he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smirk. His hands slid down to the hem of your skirt, and with one swift movement, he hiked it up, exposing your thighs to the cool air of the office. You could barely think, barely breathe as his fingers trailed over your skin, teasingly light as they made their way to the curve of your ass. He cupped it, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I think you need a little reminder of who's in control here." Your body responded to his touch with a mind of its own, your hips pushing forward instinctively as his knee pressed harder against you. The pressure was maddening, driving you to the edge of sanity. You felt his fingers trail down the curve of your ass, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. The rough, teasing graze of his fingertips against your sensitive skin made you shudder. "You like this, don't you?" he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with lust as he began to caress you more firmly. You couldn't suppress the soft moan that escaped your lips, and you felt his grip on you tighten in response. He leaned back just enough to look at you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face, your parted lips. The satisfaction in his expression was clear as he watched your reaction. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbuckle his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a thrill of anticipation through you. Your hands, trembling slightly, moved to help him, undoing the buckle and sliding the belt free. You glanced up at him, your breath catching as you saw the hunger in his eyes. You pulled down his zipper, feeling the heat radiating from his body as you exposed him fully. His erection was already glistening with precum, and your mouth watered at the sight. You knelt in front of him, your hands wrapping around his length as you looked up at him, seeing the way his eyes darkened with desire. He watched you intently as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the saltiness of his arousal. The groan that escaped his lips was deep and primal, and it spurred you on, your movements becoming more confident, more eager. You felt him throb in your mouth, and his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you as you moved up and down his length, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him deeper. His breathing became ragged, and you could feel the tension in his body as he fought to maintain control. But it wasn't long before you felt the first pulse, his release spilling into your mouth as he groaned your name. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, but a bit of it dribbled from the corner of your lips.

He wasn't done with you yet. In a swift motion, he pulled you to your feet, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he kissed you hard, his lips claiming yours. You could taste the remnants of his release on your lips as he kissed you, the intensity of it making your head spin. San moved with purpose, carrying you to his desk and bending you over it, your skirt still hiked up around your waist. His hand slid between your legs, his fingers finding your wetness with ease. He teased you for a moment, rubbing slow circles that made you moan softly, your body arching in response. "You're soaked," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I bet you've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" You couldn't find the words to respond, too lost in the sensation of his fingers playing with you, teasing you mercilessly. He pulled his hand away suddenly, and you whimpered at the loss, but the sound turned into a gasp as you felt him position himself at your entrance. He didn't hesitate, driving into you with a force that made you cry out, your hands clutching at the desk for support. The fullness of him inside you was overwhelming, your body stretching to accommodate him as he began to move, his thrusts hard and deep. The pleasure was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as he took you, his pace relentless. You could hear the sounds of your bodies colliding, the slickness of your arousal, the heavy breathing and moans that filled the room. The thought of your coworkers hearing you, knowing exactly what was happening behind the closed doors of his office, only heightened the intensity. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a climax that you coudn't hold back. San's hand round its way between your legs again, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body trembling as you cried out, the pleasure too intense to contain. He followed you over moments later, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his release filling you as he groaned your name, the sound of it echoing in your ears as you both collapsed onto the desk, exhausted and satisfied. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the lingering sweetness of his cologne. You lay there, your body still trembling, your mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened. San's hand trailed lazily up your back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “Don’t think you’ve escaped so easily", he murmured, his voice soft and teasing. "But I think we can discuss your punishment later." You couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering soreness in your body. You knew you were in for a lot more than just a warning, and the thought of it sent a delicious thrill through you. As you gathered yourself, smoothing down your skirt and trying to regain some semblance of professionalism, San stepped back, watching you with that same smirk on his lips. He looked every bit the dominant, powerful man you had fantasized about, and now that fantasy had become your reality. And as you walked out of his office, your legs still shaking slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder just how far he would take this game of dominance and submission. One thing was certain: the office was about to become a much more interesting place.

#ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #ateez smut #san ateez #san x reader #ateez san #san ff #san fanfic

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persevereforahappyending · 3 months ago

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No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #no man's land

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