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surftrips · 4 months

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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

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wandasfifthwife · 27 days

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she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit ✩‧₊˚

— hockey player!wanda x afab/fem!reader

wanda has an away game, meaning she has to leave you in the morning. your emotions to rise, hurt turning into anger and causing you to snap at her, resulting in an argument—but you can’t stay mad at her. before you can realize you’ve ended up under her, pleas for her to fuck you good before she leaves.

tw || SMUT MDNI, established relationship, angry-makeup-im going to miss you-sex, argument, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, top!wanda, bottom!reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r receiving), impact play (spanking), marking (neck), r is called little thing (by wanda), overstim if you squint, cum kink?

a/n || TEAM SHOWN IN PHOTOS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH/ WANDA’S TEAM (I choose them bc they’re cool blue color). fic inspired by this prompt.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.6k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Professional athletes travel around for away games, you know this. Wanda’s mentioned her out-of-state games before to you, subconsciously reminding you of her possible leaves in the future. It was a possibility, but when it came you felt saddened by the news, especially when this trip was longer due to press and interviews.

“Hey,” she murmurs in a hushed tone, coming behind you from where you stood at the bathroom counter, “how’re you feeling?”

“Im fine.”

She eyes you wearily, the feeling making your skin crawl, “really, Wanda. It’s whatever.”

“I didn’t mean to tell you this so late. I only just remembered when I saw the information after my coach reminded us tonight—”

“Like I said, it’s whatever. Would’ve just been nice if you told me sooner.”

“I was planning to.”

“Well turns out you didn’t if you’re only telling me this the night before,” you say, heart aching as you realize she’ll be leaving tomorrow for her week and a half trip. You felt dramatic, you know you’ll see her again, but a week and half is long enough where you’ll miss her.

It’s long enough where her bed will begin to loose its heat, her side growing cold. It’s just long enough where she’ll be too busy to call you, get wrapped up with the scheduling they had for their team. You slam the drawer shut, the sudden spike in your energy levels making Wanda jump.

“Are you angry at me?”

You mock her tone, moving around her to grab the clothes you had thrown onto the floor before your shower.

“Talk to me. Why’re you angry?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because my girlfriend is leaving for a week and a half? And oh, maybe because she thinks this isn’t important to tell me, let me know before hand?”

“I didn’t know it’d affect you this much.”

Her words snap a cord in you, your mind twisting her soft tone into one that’s scoffing at you.

“Are you just this forgetful or are you just ignorant? Because this seems to happen often where you seem to forget and then trying to apologize for it—like my birthday last week.”

“Hey,” she replies, eyebrows pinching in hurt, “that’s uncalled for, I thought we moved past that.”

“I thought we did too but here you are doing it again.”

She looks at you with disbelief on her face, “okay, woah—what’s going on?“

“You, Wanda! You’re the problem! I can’t keep dealing with your selfish thinking.”

“Look—I’m sorry for not telling you about this until now, I really am, but I’m not going to deal with this. You’re being rude. Maybe it is best I leave.”

No.

“Okay fine, you were going to anyways,” you exclaim, moving past her on your way out of her room, slamming her door behind you in the middle of her retaliation of yelling, ‘fine,’ back at you.

There was a space closet just beside her room, one you peered in to see if she had any extra blankets laying around. You found two, using them to make a make-shift bed on the couch seeing as you don’t know if Wanda would want you near her right now.

It pains you every time you remember the look on her face after you called her selfish, reminded her of last week’s grievance. She didn’t deserve any of that just because you were sad she had to leave.

There was an attempt made to sleep on the couch, eyes opening and shutting too often. Your ears were focusing on the soft sounds coming from her room, hearing her walk around or close a drawer. You were being selfish and yet you directed the word at her when she was only trying to console you. She’s the last person you would ever consider to be selfish. You squeeze your eyes shut, the movement forcing a tear down your face.

If you slept out here tonight she’d be gone early tomorrow morning. She’d leave thinking you thought she was selfish, that you were still upset she had forgotten your birthday. All were lies, tumbling out of you in the heat of the moment to deal with the hurt you felt knowing she was leaving out of no where—but it only succeeding in making it worse.

You shuffle out of the makeshift bed, feet tripping on the blankets as you push yourself back towards her room. She was sitting on her bed, scrolling on her phone when you walked in. It’s like she knew, hands reaching to cup your face when you rushed over to press a feverish kiss to her lips. She sets her phone onto the desk, bringing that hand to twist you under her so she can kiss you into the mattress.

Her hands run down your sides, caressing your hips and grabbing at the skin there to pull you further down under her. Your arms lock themselves around her neck, gasping when she bites down harshly on your lower lip.

“Please,” you beg, turning your face to deepen a kiss when you notice she’s moving back to kiss you again. She nips at your neck, turning the skin there into a darker color. You tilt your head back, giving her more space to roam, to press another mark onto your skin. There’s a thigh between yours, moving your cunt along the expanse of it.

“Fuck,” she whispers, reaching to pull your clothing off after.

“Please—fuck me,” you beg again, pulling at her shirt. She’s shrugging it off, pulling it over her head to toss it beside her. Her chest presses into yours as she spreads your right leg up, opening you up for her. She’s looking into your eyes, seeking your confirmation before continuing.

She’s reaching, grabbing the harness to fasten it to her. The tip’s already at your entrance, pushing through your tight heat. Your body freezes, bottom lip dropping open as you feel every inch slide in, already beginning to move. You cry out when she thrusts back, hips moving at almost a punishing pace.

You’re pushed into the sheets, hands intertwined with hers by your head. She bites down on your shoulder, fucking into you harder after hearing you whimper. You’ve got your thighs pushed wide, welcoming her size as best as you can, but she still splits you open and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You’re infuriating,” she says, thumb brushing your previous tear stains away. You barely hear her over your incoherent mumbling, a string of pleas and whines escaping you to echo throughout her room.

“No,” you cry, reaching for her when she slides out. She’s shushing you, looking down at where you were connected to gage where to press in again. She gets distracted by the wetness coating your thighs, the dark spot forming onto her mattress from underneath where you lay. Her fingers spread your folds open, moaning as she licks through them, stopping directly onto your clit.

You’re weaving your hands into her hair, pulling her hair so tight. Your thighs shake beside her head, hips squirming as she sucks against your clit. She’s been keeping her eyes on you this whole time, angled up at you to see how beautifully you arch your back. With her tongue pressing into you and a finger circling your clit—you loose it, moaning as you come onto her tongue.

She grips your waist, flipping you so you’re breathing heavily into the mattress. The way you’re pushing your ass back into her gives her the best sight of the arousal running down your legs. You wiggle your hips, gasping when she brings her hand down to spank your ass.

“Yes!—ah, yes,” you whine, moving back to push more of her length into you. She grips your waist, hand brushing the skin to pull you until she’s bottomed out again. Her current angle is pressing right into the spot that makes you see white, makes you loose control over yourself seeing how you’ve begun to writhe from pleasure.

“Wanda-ah, uh—oh!”

You pull at her sheets, whine half muffled from how your face was being pushed into them. She squeezes your hip, “gonna miss this when I’m gone, aren’t you? Little thing can’t pleasure yourself the way I do.”

“There,” you choke on a moan, “oh!—right there!”

She knows where you’re talking about, having full knowledge and confidence about your body. Her thrusts are short, quick—pushing rapidly against that spot in ways that builds the heat between your thighs again. The second her finger is reaching over to rub at your clit you’ve let yourself go, silently screaming into the pillows.

Wanda pushes a finger past your hole even as she’s still sheathed inside, bringing it to her lips after. She hums around her fingers, eyes in a lustful gaze as she looks down at your panting body, connected to her still. She jerks her hips into yours playfully, laugh full of ego when you mewl after her ministration.

“I’m selfish? Look at you right now,” she emphasizes her words with another jerk of her hips, “came twice and you’re wanting more.”

You twist your face, ruffling the pillow to look back at her, shivering when you find her eyes. She leans over your body, arms flexing where they fall by your head. You lean back into her body, leaking all over her strap.

“I’m not stopping until you’re begging me to. Your body wont forget this all the days I’m gone,” she husks into your ear, “that sound good to you?”

You’re only able to nod, lips opening and closing with nothing but whines coming out. You’ve been reduced to nothing and she knows it.

“You always come crawling back to me.”

You want to deny it but you can’t, and she knows it, a smile coming upon her face when you nod.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.6k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

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