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heart-of-the-morningstar · 3 months

Note

Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.

Thank you very muchly.

Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)

~~~~

✨Opening Up✨

Lucifer x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer

It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

@katshyperfixations

@logybearsblog

@bigfatbimbo

You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.

Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.

"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."

"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."

Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."

"O-Ok," you stuttered.

"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.

You shook your head. "No."

"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"

You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.

Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.

"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.

"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.

Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."

"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”

Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”

“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.

It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.

“Lucifer?” you called to him.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”

“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”

You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.

“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.

“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.

All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.

“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.

“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”

Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.

"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"

Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."

“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.

“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”

“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”

"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.

"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.

"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.

“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”

Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.

Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.

“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.

“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.

You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.

“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.

“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”

“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.

“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.

“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”

Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”

You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”

Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.

~~~~

Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo

AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #writing prompt #my writing #this was meant to be a cute short thing but i can never stop myself lmao #my signature is just posting goofy faces of Lucifer to remind everyone this is who we’re thirsting over

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cherubfae · 2 months

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Omg hi! I'm a new follower and I just read your piece of the hazbin cast w/ reader having a panic attack and it was so sweet 🥺If possible could you maybe do the same cast of characters but with what they would do if the reader was on their period/period comfort?

Awww, thank you! yes!! Of course!! ☺️💘✨

taking care of you on your period || hazbin x reader

With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, and Vox

tags: fluff, comfort, afab gn!reader, I decided to go with ftm for angel in this to try it out (lmk what you think!!) :3, periods in Hell are worse than on Earth I feel like that fits, suggestiveness in luci's || Minors don't interact!

Alastor

"Oh, dear, why are you curled up on the floor in the fetal position? Are you hurt? I smell blood." Alastor coos in crackling static. He nods his head, listening to you explain despite you being facedown in said carpet. He'll procure a hot water bottle for your tummy, some aspirin, and some bitter, dark chocolate. He'll even go get one of those sugary iced coffees you love so much. Given the circumstances, Alastor may even allow you to touch his ears, but his mindful of his antlers if you know what's good for you.

Lucifer

Oh no, his poor sweetheart! The King of Hell goes full Mama Goose mode (you can see where Charlie gets it from) and hunts down whatever he thinks you may need. He'll create a little nest fort for you, spooning you from behind and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He's also not opposed of other ways of relief. In Lucifer's own wise words, "Bow-chick-a-wow-wow." (As long as you're up for it, he's not opposed to giving Charlie a sibling.)

Charlie

She's on it instantaneously! Running around scavaging all sorts of items from tampons to pads to candies-- she's not sure of your preferences, so she gets all of them! Only the best for her sweetie pie!! Huddles extraaaa close to you in your shared blanket cocoon, feeding you chocolates and giving you sweet nuzzles.

Vaggie

Immediately sends you off for a hot bath while she changes and washes the sheets so that they're nice, warm, and fresh. She also will prepare your favorite pajamas and snacks, digging through some films for one to watch. Vaggie will do what she can to make sure you're well-rested, hydrated, and most importantly; comfortable.

Husk

Immediately goes to the women of the hotel and asks about what sort of toiletries the hotel has to offer. He's discreet about your situation and grateful for their help. He wants you to feel better as soon as possible even if that means your symptoms haven't fully gone away yet! The scent of blood is strong on you and if he can notice you from a mile away, he's certain others have too. So, he creates a little nest for you two, the bar is closed down for the day, and cuddles you close to his chest.

Angel Dust

He'll spoon you from behind, resting his warm hand on your tummy. From what Cherri has told him, this shit's worse than when you guys were alive. Hell really does have a hard-on for torturing people. Angel will be as vigilant as he can, getting you whatever you may need, reassuring you gently that just because you have your period doesn't change who you are as a person nor how you idenitify. You're you, no matter what your body does or doesn't do.

Vox

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

What's that? Oh, shit, that's when you-- yeah? Oh, okay got it. That sounds like that sucks. Yeah, he doesn't mind grabbing some things for you but he's a bit stiff when it comes to comfort. He knows what it is for sure and he'll do his best. Velvette might tear him a new asshole. He does genuinely want you to feel better, he doesn't like seeing you in pain. He's just a little lost.

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #vox x reader #cherubfae 2024

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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

Text

JJK characters with breeding kinks

‼️REBLOGS APPRECIATED‼️

warnings: breeding, creampies, sex

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna

A/N: may do a part 2 to this with more characters if this does well… I don’t know too much about all of the JJK characters because I’ve only seen season 1, so go easy on me <3

NSFW JJK taglist:

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !

Gojo

This man has breeding on the mind 24/7. You’re such a cute little thing, walking around the house in just a pair of panties and a sweater, he can barely contain his arousal every time you pass him by. He’s begging to get your pregnant, and will give you creampie after creampie to make his dreams of being a dad a reality.

Nanami

He wants that domestic family life pretty bad, and getting you pregnant is one of the many steps he wants to take in having a normal, fulfilling relationship with you. Unlike Gojo, he’ll put a ring on your pretty little finger before he even thinks about getting you pregnant. He lets you know that he wants kids very early on so you’re aware of what he wants.

Choso

He loves being an older brother, but lately he’s been thinking about becoming a father too. Once you brought up the idea of having children, Choso hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. He’s got breeding on the brain, and he can’t leave you empty, he’s gotta give you a creampie for the road every time he sees you!

Sukuna

He partly wants to breed you to have possession over you in a way no one else can, and partly because he wants an heir. He does love you, and when you so cutely as for him to knock you up, how can he refuse you? He’s the king of curses, and he can do anything he wants, and he WANTS to pound your pussy and fill your womb until you’re absolutely stuffed with his seed.

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thatsdemko · 10 months

Text

drought - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: husband!charles leclerc x wife!fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + fingering (f receiving) + minor grammatical errors!

a/n: everyone say thank you to Charles leclerc’s recent photo dump

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

the simulator, the meetings, the practices, the races. it’s never ending exhaustion for Charles as he struggles grappling the seasons horrid start.

he’s thankful to have someone to turn to when times get rough. his lovely wife, you. through thick and thin is what you promised each other, and right now? this was the thin. this was what was starting to tear you both further apart.

Charles spent all his time home at the simulator, or any chance he could, at the factory. you’ve spent dozens of lonely, boring, nights in your shade king size bed.

the picture frame above the headboard is no longer crooked. you’d have time to fix it into place because the reason it fell was the endless nights of sex. the headboard would bang into the wall and eventually the picture, from your wedding night, would either come falling down, or end up sideways on the hook.

it was a reminder of your once thrilling sex life has come to an end. sex was no longer something you both were actively participating in. it was rather you and a vibrator on those lonely occasions.

“headed out?” you ask, picking your head up from your book in your lap. you’d heard his heavy footsteps. his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth searching the right sneakers to wear.

“just to maman’s salon. been awhile.” he says coming into the living room to sit beside you on the couch.

you nod in agreement having not remembered the last time his beautiful brown hair was trimmed. although, you don’t mind the length, and neither did his fans. you’d encouraged him to listen to them, and at the time he laughed. then you showed him why you liked it so much. the ends being tugged between your fingers, ruffled and yanked during sex, he enjoyed the arousal. now, there was no need for it.

“tell her I say hi.” you say, soft smile forming to your lips.

he catches your eyes for a brief second when he looks up from tying his shoes. he takes the quick second to press a kiss to your cheek, “you should come by. maman would love to see you.”

you’d missed pascale. in fact, you missed his whole family. it’d been months since you’d shared a laugh with Arthur, or even held conversation with Lorenzo and his new girlfriend. while you knew the chances were slim to seeing his siblings, you still joined him in the car. it’d been the first time in weeks being in his pista.

his hand dangerously slips across the center console. his thumb strokes the skin your inner thigh that’s exposed from your biker shorts. he’s happy you’ve tagged along, he can’t remember the last time you’ve spent more than two hours together that wasn’t spent sleeping.

“I noticed you fixed the picture above our bed.” he says turning to look at you for a brief second at the stop light. you figured he hadn’t noticed, it was slight change and he rarely slept at home when he had days off. you’re sure he’s seen the toy under your side of the bed if he truly went looking.

“gives you a new challenge again.” you reply back watching the wheel spin under his hands as he pulls into the parking lot. you were finally free from his grip.

he scoffs, putting the car in park, “it was always too easy. it was never a challenge.”

a smirk forms to your lips. your words catching him before he slips out the car, “well you have a new challenge and it’s much better than you’ve been in the past month.”

—

you’re sitting in the chair beside him watching pascale trim the wet ends of his hair. a few fall in his face or around the top of the cape.

she’s happy to see you. in fact, she’s only talking to you the whole time.

she doesn’t notice how you’ve been squeezing your legs together every so often. your one leg is crossed over the other, he sees you shifting in the chair as you answer his mothers questions. he sees how turned on you’ve become watching him.

it’s funny to him. how it’s the most mundane thing ever and it’s got your pussy throbbing for him. all he’s doing is sitting in the chair allowing his mother to cut the dead ends of his hair.

he can tell whatever you were using to get off was not enough. and it was his own damn fault for choosing the simulator or the factory over pleasuring his wife’s needs.

pascale walks away to answer the phone leaving you two alone, and he swivels the chair in your direction, “I did not know this would get you so horny.”

you feel heat spread across your cheeks. you try to pull the neck of the sweatshirt over your face to hide the embarrassment of being caught.

“when we get home—“

“you think I’ll last getting home?” you cut him off before he can propose his plan. his eyes widen, a smirk toys his lips as he shakes his head seeing his mother come back into the room.

“take the keys to the pista, you’re making this hard for me.” he tosses the keys into your lap, “it’s a private parking lot. you can finish what I started.”

“I’m almost done with him. you‘ll be able to go home in no time.” pascale promises and continues to trim his hair. you watch for another couple of minutes and now she’s finally getting ready to blow dry his wet hair.

you can’t watch any longer. you’ve made up an excuse to head to his car and wait out the final minutes. you’ve turned on the air in the car and sat in the passenger seat awaiting his arrival to take you home.

your leg anxiously bounces as you hear him whistling. he opens the passenger door, takes the knob that adjusts the seat, and pushes it as far back as it goes allowing him to kneel in front of your seat.

“Charles what are you doing?” you ask watching him close the passenger door once he’s in. it’s cramped. his head is just inches close to the top of the car, your legs are nearly into your lap and suddenly it’s warm in the car. the air must’ve kicked off after a period of time running.

“taking care of something.” he leans over your lap, letting the back of the seat go as far down as it can. he moves you closer to the edge of the seat, “lift your hips.” he demands and you do as he asks, allowing him to remove your shorts.

“Charles, we can’t do this in your car—“

“nobody is here.” he points out the very obvious. not another car is in this parking lot, and there’s not a single car that has drove down this street since arriving. you were as safe as you could be under the street lights.

“come on, let me treat you right.” he coos, fingers running up and down your thighs, “I did this to you.” he reaches into your lap, fingers toying with the wet material clung to your pussy, a whine threatening at your tongue.

“can I do that? can I touch my wife?”

you nod, unable to speak any words. you push you hips up again allowing him to remove your panties. you spread your legs as far wide as you can. his index finger stretches out across your folds. it’s like a ghost against your skin, you can feel him but barely. a soft whine escapes your lips, you lean back against the seat.

“good girl,” he whispers, “just relax for me.” he says. his index finger wiggles in your entrance. his name rolls off your tongue ever so quickly, and you feel him add a second finger not even giving you a chance to respond.

your fingers go flying into his freshly cut hair, and yank on the short ends. you curse him for what he’s done, and try to grab anything you can while his fingers pump inside of you. he takes his time, discovers every single bit of you like lost treasure. a place he hasn’t tended to in awhile.

sweet whines and moans escape your lips. it’s adorable how quick you were able to fold under his touch. all it ever really took was a swipe of his finger, tongue, or anything else to get your body to fold. you were his in the matter of seconds.

you feel one of his fingers just brush your clit. your back arches, pussy clenching around his fingers. you’re begging him to do it again, and again, until you come.

he doesn’t stop until he notices your legs are visibly shaking, the car is shaking from your bodies response, and until his fingers are met with cum.

“I can’t.” you breathe out, your body itches to exhale the sweet cum he ever so loves. he’s nodding along, encouraging you to come. you throw your body back against the seat, you feel the body of the car move as you do so. sweet delicious cum finally exits your body and so do his fingers.

“that was fun wasn’t it?” he licks his index and middle finger of your cum before pulling your set up close to where it was, and he’s getting out of the car. you quickly pull your shorts back up and double check your hair.

you look him in the eyes when he slides into the drivers seat. you can see the arousal in his pants, a content smile across his face, “don’t worry, you can take care of me when we get home. I’ve got an idea in my mind.”

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angelfoxx · 8 months

Note

I just know Keegan looks so god damn hot in his casual clothing, going to bed in loose grey boxers and an old band shirt that rides up his stomach when he lies down, AND GOOD GOD his happy traillll😫I feel like he’s one of those guys with really bushy happy trails, doesn’t even know how sexy you find it. He’s lying in bed, one of his big arms around your shoulders while reading an old book. Raises an eyebrow when your hand starts wandering up his thigh, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his boxers..

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ NEED SOMETHING? ❞

…in which keegan entertains your perversions.

FEATURING: keegan p russ.

WARNINGS: keegan being a sexy motherfucker. also me giving him a tatted sleeve because it’s sexy and who the hell is gonna tell me no. also me drooling over his happy trail bc HAPPY TRAILS HAPPY TRAILS LOOOOOOOORD

NOTE/S: oh my god

It’s not your fault, really. Feeling like this. It’s not your fault.

It’s his.

He’s not ignoring you. His arm, slung up on your shoulders, is just a heavy, toned reminder that he’s with you. His attention is just elsewhere.

You aren’t totally sure what book he’s reading. Probably something of Stephen King’s. Last week, it had been Christine. The week prior, It. You hadn’t bothered checking; if it was a low-stress week, he’d tell you all about it once he finished it, true book-critic style. In any case, he’s got the thing casually in his lap, spread open by a splayed hand. He’s got a simple silver band on his middle finger, gnarled and twisted like barbed wire — every now and then, he taps it, just an occasional beat of sound as if to remind you that he’s right there.

You’re ogling his hand, now. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Your eyes travel upward. He’s got a pretty sleeve of black-and-white tattoos; churning ocean waves, storm-battered whitecaps, tossing ships. He’d explained it the first time you’d seen it; something about how he found peace in the chaos of an ocean storm. Just standing in a place where there was no resistance that he could give. Surrendering to the fury of nature. Something like that. It’s…um, attractive. Yeah. You swallow and resist the sudden urge to squeeze your legs together.

The top of that sleeve — thick, billowing clouds — vanishes under the edge of his tee. Charcoal-gray, emblazoned with the title of an old rock band that you’d never really heard of prior to meeting him. He’s still wearing his dog-tag, hanging on a silver chain around his neck and rising on his chest every time he breathes.

Christ, you should stop staring.

His shirt’s ridden up on his stomach, and god, you really shouldn’t look because then you won’t be able to look away. But you do look, because what are you if not a swooning idiot for the sniper sitting beside you?

Every time he breathes, his stomach sinks in and you can see the outline of his abs. God. Fucking Christ. You can see the outline of his abs but not really the middle, because along the middle he’s proudly sporting a long line of short black curls.

You’re basically salivating.

He’s just got some loose gray boxers on, sitting dangerously low on his hips. He’s left the v-line of his hips exposed; your senses are on high alert, eyes catching on every little mole spotting his waist, every little white scar, the edge of the paw-print tattoos he has just below his stomach (it’s where Riley’s front feet go when the dog stands up on his hind legs, tail wagging and tongue lolling), and it’s such a cute little tattoo but your thoughts are anything but and—

“Don’t forget to blink.”

You flinch like you’ve been shot. Your mind goes blank, and your gaze shoots upward.

Tiny smirk caught in the corner of his mouth, Keegan looks down at you with lidded, quietly humored eyes. They seem brilliantly blue, moreso than usual — though maybe that’s just the lighting in here. His hair’s a mess; short and still damp from his earlier shower, undercut scrubbing against your arm as he turns his head, just a little, one eyebrow raised. There’s a little scar through his left one; the hair splits unevenly there. You’ve told him several times that you find it sexy.

He agrees.

“What?” Your mouth feels like it’s filled with a fat wad of cotton. You feel like your thoughts are visible in your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid.” His response is honey-smooth. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t say y…you were.” You swallow. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Mm.” Keegan narrows his eyes. “Mhm.”

And then he goes back to that book.

It’s kind of ridiculous, how hard you stare at his hand holding that book open. It’s almost pathetic, actually. You’re sure he’d say the same if he knew exactly what thoughts were running through your head right now. Pinkie finger on one page, index on the other, middle and ring both resting so lightly along the inseam of the spine.

Christ.

Trying to shake yourself out of your own head, you turn yourself inwards. Keegan needs no words; his arm tightens around you, hand sliding down to your hip and tugging it over so that you’re fully facing his side, head resting against his chest and body slung down along his leg. It’s comfortable like this; it goes without saying that he’s built like a motherfucker and so his pec is a comfortable resting-place for your head. He’s warm, too, deliciously so; his body heat seeps up through his tee, prickling against your skin. He’s comfy, so comfy; on other nights, you’d fallen asleep like this, cuddled up to his side with one of his arms wrapped around you. Those nights were sweet; when time started to slow and all of your senses started to bleed together, you always heard him call your name, so quiet you wouldn’t catch it if you were awake. When you didn’t answer, he’d laugh — and then you’d hear the rustle of sheets as he stooped over and pressed a little kiss to the top of your head.

You weren’t totally sure if he knew that you knew he did that.

Tonight, though, you can’t do that. You can’t fathom it, because your hand is just itching to move. It’s just casually resting against his thigh — god, his fucking thighs, hard and thick and oh, you have to stop ogling him. You have to stop thinking about how that muscle feels, flexing so slightly under your hand as it moves up.

Moves up?

Oh.

Oops.

Keegan doesn’t say anything when your hand cups the warm spot between his legs. He lets out a short breath — it almost sounds like a laugh. There’s a curve taking shape on his lips, and his eyes glint with humor as he shifts, purposefully pushing his pelvis so slightly up into your palm.

The weight of his dick pushes between your fingers and your legs instinctively snap together. Above you, Keegan’s breath cracks into a nearly-silent laugh.

He’s onto you.

You bite your lip, risking a glance up at him as you do. He isn’t looking at you; he’s still reading, hawkish blue eyes scanning from left to right, over and over again. The hand on your hip lightly squeezes a handful of your thigh.

His hips roll so slightly up again. He’s daring you to continue.

Cocky sonofabitch. You swallow as you move your hand up, up, over the slight angular swell of his abdomen and up past the elastic of his boxers. For a moment, you rake your fingers up his abs and you shudder in response to the way his stomach flexes and his breathing oh-so-slightly breaks.

No words. Just the sound of him turning the page.

Bitch. You bite your tongue as you shift your head around. You can hear his heart thumping beneath your ear, and — god fucking dammit — it’s not beating quicker at all. It’s like you can’t disturb him. Get under his skin like he gets under yours.

You pick at the elastic of his waistband. On one hand? You’re rubbing your legs together, biting your tongue, and there’s a million and one dirty images in your head. You can practically hear Keegan’s growl in your ear: too needy to sit still, princess?

But on the other hand, he’s being mean. He’s ignoring you and all of your signs. And you kind of want to just roll over and go to sleep and maybe, just maybe, he’d been hoping for you to go further.

But you won’t. So he’ll get frustrated, and then it’ll be him slowly reaching his hand under the elastic of your waistband, fingers curving over the shape of your body and feeling for wet warmth. He’ll breathe in your ear with that stupid rasp of his and he’ll ask, voice raw, if you were really planning on hanging me out to dry like that? and you’ll say maybe I was.

Or he’ll get frustrated, but he’ll reach into his own pants. He’ll leave you alone, but you’ll wake up to the quiet sound of his muted groans and his hand stroking back and forth under the thin material of his boxers and then maybe he’ll do that thing where he tips his head back, swallows, and his eyes flutter shut and he cursed, quiet and hoarse.

Or maybe—

“Cold feet?” There he is again, short phrases and little questions. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking at his book, tilting his head as he turns the page. He raises an eyebrow to you, tongue clasped between his teeth.

“What?”

No response this time. Keegan’s eyes shift over to you; he cocks his head in your direction, and under that messy black mop of hair and those thick black lashes that you’ve always been envious of, Keegan silently asks if you’re really going to play this fucking dumb.

You’ve arrived at a stalemate. You don’t move. He doesn’t speak. You two just stare at each other, blinking back-and-forth like a tennis volley until Keegan finally sighs and looks away. His eyes return to the book.

You’re about to snap, ready to rip the godforsaken thing out of his lap, when the hand on your hip shifts. His arm lifts off of your back; it pulls around your shoulders instead, crushing you into his armpit.

His fingers clasp around your wrist, and you catch the undeniable edge of a smirk on his face before he takes your hand and pulls it into his pants.

get fucking cliffhanger’d bitches

#cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #keegan x reader #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan smut #cod keegan #LORDDDD

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evermoresqueiswriting · 16 days

Text

the one where clarisse learns about her love language

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift

summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind

pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader

word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh

tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder

masterlist // ask box

No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were.

You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did.

“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?”

“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone.

“Rude!”

“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”

The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there.

“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”

“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”

He shook his head.

“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted.

“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”

Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset.

“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”

He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear.

“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”

“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”

“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.

“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”

“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.

“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating.

Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion.

Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her.

“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”

“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”

Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag.

You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was.

But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her.

“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you.

“Will! What are you doing here?”

“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag.

Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at.

“y/n?,” Will called for you.

“What?” you didn’t look at him.

“y/n!”

“What?” you gave him a quick glance.

“Something’s wrong.”

That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though.

“What?”

“Don’t you see the trap?”

“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood.

It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her.

“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will.

Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious.

“Fuck.”

You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers.

“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.

“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse.

Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier.

You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.

“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him.

You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.

“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”

You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow.

“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”

“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”

Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive.

“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed.

Lee slapped his arm.

“What!” Michael rubbed his arm.

“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”

“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.

“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.

Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly.

“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”

“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”

They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too.

“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said.

“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”

“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”

“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”

“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”

“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner.

Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far.

“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”

Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights.

“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”

You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.

“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.

“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also.

“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”

“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed.

You whipped around, standing up before backing away.

“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her.

Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly.

“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself.

You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed.

“You should drink a bit.”

She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink.

“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”

She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side.

“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.”

Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat.

There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.

“What’s wrong?” you worried.

“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips.

You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.

“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on.

You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.

“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.

You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean.

“I was hungry.”

“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”

Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down.

“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured.

“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter.

You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.

“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.

“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her.

Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier.

“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”

This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.

“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”

Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?

Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that.

By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.

“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.

“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t..

“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”

“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged.

“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder.

You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain.

“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said.

“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”

“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”

“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”

“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”

“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”

“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile.

She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.

“What the hell!”

‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”

Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before.

It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in.

“You’re being weird,” he said.

“I’m not!”

“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”

“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.

“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch.

“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”

“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.”

“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”

“Then you come back here, and the end.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”

When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere.

“Clarisse?” you called her name.

She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her.

“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.

Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’.

“What happened?” you frowned.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”

“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”

But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady.

“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.

“I was practising with my brothers.”

You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs.

“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound.

“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”

“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”

“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned.

“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”

She suppressed a smile.

“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”

You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you.

“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”

“I do,” she affirmed.

That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt.

One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning.

“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!”

Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell.

“I just fell,” she explained.

“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Oh.”

Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag.

“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”

She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head.

“Did you paint that?” she asked.

The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.

“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”

“Two planets?”

“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.

“Linked by a thread?”

“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”

“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused.

“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”

You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.

“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.

“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.

“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”

“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced.

“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”

Clarisse hummed in agreement.

“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still.

The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.

“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you.

“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.

“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.

“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile.

You both left to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her.

“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”

Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock.

“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”

“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”

“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”

“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”

“Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”

“Fine.”

But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee.

“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears.

“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.

“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”

Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out.

“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.

“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.

“I will punch you in the face.”

Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I’m not scared, unlike you.”

“What–.”

“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”

“I–,” she froze.

Was she making you miserable?

“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.

“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”

Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again.

“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”

And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.

You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse.

“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back.

“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”

“Yea, me too,” you sighed.

Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field.

“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.

“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”

“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”

“He did this?” you gasped.

“Yeah.”

You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.

“And?” you asked.

“He said I was making you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” you insisted.

“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.

“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”

“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”

“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”

“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.

“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”

“No it’s different–.”

“It’s not! It’s fi—.”

“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out.

Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession.

“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”

“Really?” she stared at you.

You nodded.

“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.

“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.”

“A kiss?”

Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x fem!reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months

Text

The Salt In My Blood

You were the beloved Jewel of the Realm, the youngest Targaryen born to Alyssa and Baelon. Though your nature resembled more a lamb rather than a dragon, you posed a threat at court, for a single word out of your mouth inspired a thousand actions from The King and The Rogue Prince. Thus, your match with the Lord of the Iron Islands.

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader x Dalton Greyjoy | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, targcest (sister!reader), reader has valyrian features (silver hair, violet eyes), power imbalance, graphic depictions of violence/assault/murder/death, canon divergence/inaccurate timelines, ye old misogyny, fuckedupedness of men, smut (dub con, loss of virginity, piv, biting, marking, breeding kink, corruption kink, baby trapping, cockwarming, cunnilingus), internet translated high valyrian, angst, social commentary, typos, etc.

A/N: !!mind the warnings!! This is really yucky because it is. all men do is hurt women. Also I did basic research for Dalton Greyjoy and just used him cuz I needed a character. idk what he's actually like and I'm 99% sure this timeline doesn't add up so, just roll w it ok? Ok. If my internet translated high valyrian sucks, well, it be like that. And surprise surprise i made another song for a fic because i should make use of my music degree while im jobless 💔 my heart goes out to @arabellasleopardcoat because her fic capital really poked my brain and got me fired up enough to write/create again, even if just for this fic. i love you.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @thebullship @sa3losa @sloanexx @azperja @happilyhertale

Father, father, shining star, save my brother from the war. Mother, mother, hold me close. I fear brother won't come home. So, I pray, night and day, I do my duty here. Find me, oh [a] husband, so fierce with not a fear. Father, father hears my prayer. Mother, mother dries my tears. All my strife ends tonight for my husband's here.

"But what if someone sees," you whisper.

Daemon clutches your hand tighter as you hurry down the hall. He looks over to you, your expression matches your shaky voice.

Perhaps, had the conditions been different, he'd be softened by your words. The ferocity of his protectiveness would have made him stop in his footsteps and clutch your cheek. Perhaps he would have promised to safeguard you.

But these conditions did not elicit such urges from him. No. It stoked the fires bacchanal in his gut. The stolen taste of your honeyed lips in the garden was not enough.

Daemon finally brings his darling sister into his bedroom, and there, he answers you, "who would dare spy on the king's heir, the prince of the realm?"

Your breath quickens at the sound of your brother locking the door.

The prince of the realm stalks over to you, a dragon gazing upon a meek lamb.

Again, you whisper, "what if someone finds out?"

Daemon could growl. He almost did as he grabs your waist and sinks his head into the crook of your tender neck. You don't even react when he does this, save for your gasp.

Oh, how like you, how docile and doe-like, never one to raise your voice, or fight back, especially not with him.

"Let them find out, sister," he claws your clothing, "then they will not steal you from me."

You are so pliant as he squeezes you, so soft as he roughs you back to his bed. You let him handle you like he did your dolls growing up. He treated them with less than a quarter of the gentleness you would,; they'd end up tattered and broken because of him by the end of your playing session, much to your heartbreak.

Though you cried about it, you never once held it against him, because each time, Daemon would wipe your tears and apologize. He liked breaking your dolls. He liked being your comfort.

He knew without a sliver of doubt you'd let him do the same to your body. You'd let him break you, then kiss the tears off your cheeks. You'd let him, for he was your star, and you were his doll.

Daemon presses you beneath him. He lays you down where he sleeps. He kisses you, the way he has sometimes imagined he would while touching himself, or while in the arms of another. His long, silver hair falls cascades down his shoulder, joining your long, silver hair that's spilled on his pillows.

For so long, he's denied himself of you, because you were too pure, too darling to be tainted.

You whimper as he pushes your skirts up, bunching them by your ribs.

But now, it's all different.

His mouth suckles his way to your neck.

"Daemon."

Now, it's not about denial. It's about what's right. It's about what you deserve.

"Daemon-" you whimper when he reaches into the waistband of your smallclothes, "-wait."

He breathes hotly against your jaw. His hands grab your knees and parts them for himseld

You push his shoulders back, catching his attention. He is displeased, and not even your glassy eyes could quell it. He warns you with an annoyed sound.

You gulp but mutter anyway, "this is wrong."

"Wrong?!" snaps he.

You tense at his anger, yet even then, you caress his cheek gently, "I am to be married to Lord Dalton Greyjoy."

"And you would have me believe you want him?" Daemon quips, "that you do not want me?"

You push yourself up on your elbows. Tears begin to spill down the corner of your eyes, "Daem-"

"Why do you think I am doing this?" He pushes himself against your core.

You whimper at the contact. He is hard.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to your sides, "I do this for your sake, little girl. To save you from your prison."

You gulp and blink rapidly, your silver lashes lace with tears.

The slightest semblance of remorse flashes on your brother's face.

With your head lifted, you watch as Daemon brings his hands to your ankles instead. He rids you of your shoes and chucks them over his shoulder.

Slowly, he strips you naked until you are left in nothing but the jewelry and the stockings he bought you one before.

You cover your breasts, and he lets you while he kneads at your slightly parted thighs.

His eyes are glued on your womanhood, on the curls that don't see the light of day and the flesh that's never been touched by a man.

Daemon clenches his jaw as his fingers inspect the heat there. The two digits find molten wetness flooding your entrance. You make a breathless sound and squeeze your thighs, trying, with pointless effort, to stop him. His eyes flick to your face, the look of embarrassment, of shock, of pleasure visible to him. He debates forcing your legs.

He licks his you-coated fingers and tuts instead, "open."

You look at him, your Daemon, with the faint line between his brows. You close your mouth and lick your lips. Your hands find their way back to your breasts.

The sight is maddening, especially with how the jewel of your necklace looks between the squished mount of flesh.

"Open," he commands with less patience.

Daemon watches his darling princess part her legs for him. His trousers strain more than it did already.

He watches you closely and motions with a finger, "those too."

You do not immediately comply. In fact, you look at Daemon with pleading eyes. He raises his brows at your bratty demeanor, and shakes his head, "are you disobeying me?"

You see the threat in his eyes.

"Kessa nyke mazverdagon ao rūnagon aōha dīnagon?" Shall I make you remember your place?

You shake your head and pipe softly, "daor." No.

Finally, you reveal your breasts to him.

He smirks, "good girl."

Your brother kneads your delicate flesh and grinds his clothed groin against your weeping cunt. The sound you emit makes the feel of the clothes on his skin unbearable.

His grabs your hands and places them on his waistband. He looks down at you as he rids himself of his top. By the time his burning chest is free, you've gotten half the wits to undo his breeches.

His eyes don't leave you as he takes off his shoes.

You timidly pull his pants down, sitting up slightly as you do. You make a soft sound when his manhood flings free. Daemon shoves you back and does the rest himself.

"Daemon. I don't think-"

Your voice is crushed by the feel of his cock sliding into you. A rush of heat ripples through your body. He leans down and kisses your shoulder as you whine.

"Enough," he pants. He uses all his restraint not to fuck you dumb then and there. He grabs your thighs, pressing them into your chest. He can feel your tension. If he fucks you now, he could leave you unable to walk straight. But as sweet as that sounds, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, not that way.

Daemon sinks down to your jugular and kisses you there before he brings his hungry mouth to your breast. He sucks and nips, imagining it being heavy with milk for his babe, the babe he'd put into your belly.

The thought makes his moan and rut his hips.

You make a strained sound and your hands to push his arms. You call his name again, soft and shaky.

Daemon tries to ignore you, his hand coming to your lonely breast on the other side, but the persistent call of his name makes his sigh.

He lightly grazes your nipple before he releases your flesh. He trails kisses up your skin until he lands on your face, your face, which was now wet with salt.

"You need to relax. Mmm?" he coos, kissing your lips, "skoro syt gaomagon ao limagon? Hm?" Why do you cry?

You adjust beneath him, repositioning your thighs, digging your fingers into his nape. You whimper, "lēkia."

Daemon's belly burns. Look at you, crying for your older brother.

"Kessa, ñuha hāedar?" Yes, my little sister?

"Iksan zūgagon," you mutter, tears streaming down your temples. Your nails scratch up his scalp. I am afraid.

Daemon, selfish as he is, does not like the fact that leaves your lips. His brows furrow. He rubs your thighs in an attempt to comfort you. He kisses the corner of your lips, "hen lēkia?" Of your older brother?

You shake your head quickly, rubbing your thumb on his jaw.

His brows furrow tighter. His hold on your thigh tightens, "hen bona Āegenka Āzma?" Of that Iron Born?

You stay still. You take a moment before mumbling, "Viserys said I should marry him for my own good-"

"Fuck that cunt Viserys," he spits angrily.

Your lips quiver.

The anger in Daemon's chest dissipates as you rub the deep line between his brows. He props himself up, sinking a hand by the side of your head. He looks down at you.

"You cannot protect me forever," you whisper, finally relaxing beneath him.

Daemon watches as you lick your lips.

You gulp, "I am a Targaryen princess. I have duties to the realm, to my family."

"Your duty is with me," he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest.

Your violet eyes sparkle as you examine his features. You tuck the long tresses that block his face behind his ear. Your belly ignites at the fierce beauty of your beloved brother.

"I burn for you," Daemon says, "I know that you burn for me."

"But Daemon-"

The gentle thrust of his hips stifle your words.

"Enough," Daemon repeats this time softer, head sinking back into the crook of your neck, "you have always belonged to me, and you know it."

You whimper and instinctively mold your body against him. Your legs tighten around his torso as his thrusts grow more and more confident.

Daemon kisses you, delighting in the gasp you give when he plays with your pearl. He muffling the sound of your mewls with his mouth.

"They insult us all by daring to mix dragon blood with fucking sea squid," he pants, "you were meant to carry my seed, be my bride."

You moan, feeling a foreign force in your belly.

"I will not let that sewer monster be the one to make you a woman," Daemon licks a stripe up your neck.

You tangle your fingers into the roots of his hair, "Daemon."

His nails scratch up your sides, "twas I that watched you blossom into womanhood, tis I that should be the one to take it."

Neither of you speak after he says this. You both simply whimper, wordlessly agreeing your bodies were made for each other.

The prince had not a single care in the world. He urges you to scream out to him with the flick of his pelvis. He didn't care if anyone could hear, neither did he care that anyone would see the viscious marks he was leaving all over your throat.

You were better than he had ever imagined, and he was determined to make you his. He was intent on emptying his balls in you, over and over again, until you could take no more, until you were too exhausted to leave, until your body had no other choice but to carry him a child.

And when he finally does spill into you, coming with a grunt and a soft, "you're mine," you, the virgin princess finally understand the fuss over sex, and reply to him with an, "I love you."

Daemon fucks you until his bed is soiled with a mix of your come. He fucks you until every minute movement from him makes you shiver and whine. He fucks you until your skin is marked with tender bites. He fucks you until you beg for respite, and then he keeps himself inside you after.

You were a worn little thing, and yet you managed to have the energy to still cling to him as you dozed off.

He kisses your temple and sleeps soundly, knowing he's done it; he's made you his. That was irrefutable. Only a madman would deny him of you now. He basks in the pleasure of your body, and in the knowledge his baby sister so wholeheartedly trusted in him to let him do this.

One can only imagine, then, the mortified horror you felt when you were given to Lord Greyjoy anyway.

This was not part of the plan. You were meant to meet Daemon. He told you you were going to speak to the king together, and yet here your eldest brother was, ushering you towards your captor-husband to be.

"My princess," Dalton says, reaching a hand to you.

You stare at his glimmering eyes, finding nothing but malice and lust behind them. You turn to your brother for help. You do not want to touch this man.

Viserys offers you none and looks away. It hurts when he does so, especially since he does so with such apparently scorn. He smiles at the man, "greet your lord. You will soon be wed to him, sister."

You muster enough artificial interest to smile and take the man's hand. Goosebumps form on your skin when he kisses the back of your hand.

He notices and chuckles, rubbing where he kissed, "such demureness. Do not be frightened of me, my dragon. I would not hurt such a pretty thing."

You clasp your hands together after he releases you.

"Not unless you ask," he adds, bursting into a laugh.

Neither you or Viserys return the amusement. In fact, the latter's face contorts at the distasteful joke. His nostrils flare, "you dare jest such uncouth things in front of your king?"

Dalton Greyjoy is unbothered, but stifles his laughter. He clears his throat and bows, "my apologies, my king. Tis the Ironborn in me. I cannot help my nature, much like you cannot help yours."

You feel light headed the entirety of this interaction. The room feels like it was closing in on you, and you kept glancing at the door, praying that your other brother free you from this torment.

He does not do so. He does not come. In fact, you do not see Daemon anywhere the entire day.

Dalton keeps you by his side, taking your arm in his as he makes you stroll him around the Red Keep. You do so, of course, no matter how strong the urge to run away and hide from him was. The entire time, Dalton recounts his stories of battle, his stories at sea, his stories of life. He's sincere enough, but you are not interested in the slightest.

"I think you'd enjoy the feel of sea salt against your skin, just as much you enjoy the whip of the clouds," he grins with genuine enthusiasm.

Any response you have is put out by his next words.

"I can introduce you to my salt-wives."

"Salt-wives?"

"Aye," he says proudly, "I'd say I have about twenty, but I cannot assure you its accuracy."

You are horrified. Finally, you have the gall to pull away, "what?"

Dalton chuckles, somehow amused, but his brows furrow, as if irritated, "we Ironborn keep salt wives in our ships, to give us comfort and warmth when the sea gets too rough. Is this princess so sheltered to not know this?"

You curdle when he reaches for your neck.

"You needn't be jealous. You'd be my one and only rock wife."

You scowl at his condescending tone, "I thought that was just a wives' tale."

He laughs. It is rich, amused, and foreboding. He shakes his head, "it's about as much of a wives' tale as your dragons are, princess."

Later that night, you weep at the king's feet, begging him not to marry you off to such a man.

Viserys does not hear it, and it is only then that Daemon finally appears.

When he does, it's as if the gods themselves breathed life into you. Quickly, you run into him and sob into his chest.

Daemon holds you tightly and glares at the king, "what have you done to her?"

Viserys scoffs. The dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace and a few lit candles, feels to him like it's darkened because of Daemon. He shifts where he sits, "I? I found her a husband."

Daemon's eye twitches, "you gave her to me! You said it just this morning."

You look up at Daemon, hopeful at the sound of his words.

"I said I would think about it once you report your patrol at the City Watch to me."

Daemon releases you to impose on his brother, "I kept your city clean from crimes and safe for the people."

"And where did you go after?" Viserys narrows his eyes.

You rub your arms as you watch your brothers argue.

Daemon does not respond.

Viserys turns to you, "tell your beloved sister where you went after your patrols."

Daemon does not move.

Your chest tightens at the silence, "... Daemon."

The said man opens his mouth, "I went to get a dri-"

"A whorehouse!" Viserys blurts, rising from his seat to glare at Daemon. He turns back to you, pushing past him, "I would know. I paid every whore in Fleabottom to seduce him."

Your heart leaps into your mouth, "w-what?"

Daemon is stunned.

"See now," Viserys is close enough to clutch your cheeks, "your beloved brother is a man like all the rest. No more is the dragon righteous than the kraken."

Your eyes begin to fog with tears. Your hands begin to tremble. Why was he doing this to you?

"Greyjoy is no less a dog than the rest of us. He at least, is honoring a tradition. Daemon honors only his cock."

You turn to Daemon, hoping to find this was not the case, but his expression says it all. Youlet a pained whimper, "you teach me so cruelly, brother."

"I teach you," he swipes your tears with his thumbs, "for your own good."

"You fucking--"

You scream in terror as Daemon lunges at Viserys. You reel back and watch as the two crash down to the floor, the younger of the two finding the upper hand. They roughly struggle against each other.

It only takes another scream from you, begging them to stop, for the kingsguards to burst into the room.

You can no longer stay screaming when Daemon grabs Viserys by the collar and slams him repeatedly against the ground, especially not when Viserys claws at Daemon's face to get him off. You dash forward just as the guards order the prince to stop.

You grab Daemon's arm, and out of instinct, he swats you back, hand hitting your nose with rage powered force.

You shoot back into a kingsguard, feeling your face throb in pain.

It takes Viserys screaming your name for Daemon to stop.

The impact of hitting the armored man makes your back twinge, but it does not hurt nearly as much as the back handed hit you received from your brother.

The kingsguard catches you and stands you upright. He quickly asks if you are alright, but doesn't wait for an answer because he then shoves Daemon back, putting himself between him and you when he tries to come near.

Daemon glares in offence.

"Throw him in the fucking dungeon," Viserys spits out as he is helped up by another guard.

Daemon fights back, but is no match against three guards.

He screams your name as he is dragged off.

You clutch your face as he tells you he didn't mean to hit you. You face throbs as he tells you he loves you, and only you.

For once, you doubt his words.

Viserys comes to your side, placing a gentle hand in your shoulder. You watch as he commands a servant to get something for your hit.

He clutches your cheek that was struck and sighs, "if you wed the Red Kraken, you will strengthen our hold on the Iron Lands. Dalton Greyjoy is a formidable warrior. I couldn't think of a more capable man to safekeep the Jewel of the Realm."

As he stroked your hair, you realized that Viserys was right. It didn't matter who it was, all men were the same. When your septa warned you of men's depravity, you believed your brothers to be the exception. Now, you knew exactly why you were called-

"Little lamb," Viserys coos, "I only want what is best for all of us."

You were too naive to believe in good things.

And so you marry Dalton Greyjoy the next day.

The haste with which the wedding is prepared is to prevent you from changing your mind, you figured. That, and to keep Daemon in prison for the least amount of time.

Part of you wanted to visit him, but part of you wanted him to suffer. In the end, you realized you were too weak to behold your brother as a prisoner.

Daemon screams and bangs at his bars, demanding he be released. But the prison guards have handled worse and throw cold water at him to shut him up.

He knew by the time he was free, he would be too late to stop your marriage, but still, he meticulously planned what he would do the moment he was.

That night, after the wedding festivities were over, Dalton takes you to your room and makes you his wife.

"It's been a while since I've had a virgin," Dalton says, caressing your cheek, "don't worry, I will be gentle."

You want to scream, you want tofight him back, but you remember you're not a virgin, and fear paralyzes you. You mumble, "m-my dragon riding."

Dalton pushes back bour silver hair and kisses your shoulder.

You can't help but think of Daemon in this moment, but it makes you feel sick, and so you will him out of your head. You mumble again, "my dragon riding may taken my womanhood."

Dalton pulls away and stares at you for a moment.

"I- I was told as a child, it happened to many Targaryen princesses."

He pulls his hands, which were on your hips, away then shoves you down on your bed. He smirks as he undoes his clothing, "then I can be rough with you, aye?"

You quiver at his gaze.

He laughs, shaking his head, "didn't I say I would not hurt you? Unless under your request?"

You push inch back as he crawls over. He grabs your ankle, then the other, causing you to panic. You instinctively kick him off, but instead of being deterred, he is excited.

"Sh, sh, sh," he hushes, "it will not be unpleasant, my dragon."

Your skin pricks with gooseflesh when he removes your shoes, your socks, and sneaks his hand up your skirt.

You whimper and turn away, finding you could no longer kick back when he seizes your knees.

"Please-"

"Shhh," he hushes, giving you the first solemn look he has this entire day he's been smug, "I've had much practice from my salt wives. You, my rock wife, will taste the fruits of my practice... as I taste you."

You gasp when he suddenly rips your underwear off.

" I swear to you, your body will enjoy it, even if your mind wants you to believe otherwise."

You muffle your mouth with your palm when you feel Dalton sink in between your thighs.

He was right.

The entire time he touches you, it feels like your skin was being scorched. Your heart was not in it, but your body twisted in pleasure. You hated that you longed for Daemon, even after the fact you were not enough for him; he was still the only one you still, and this moment proved it.

You were brought to tears at how pathetic it was. Tears streamed as you reached your peak, one of the many you receive from your... husband.

He handled you with carnal instinct, just as Daemon did, but unlike him, Dalton did not kiss your tears. In fact, he did not kiss your face once. It is you that initiates such a thing, amidst the throes of your lewd pleasure. He grabs your jaw when your lips connect, and quickly releases his load into you after.

Your peak is cut short because he pulls out just when you reach it.

You watch as he rolls over and goes to sleep without another word.

The next morning, the servants call you Princess Greyjoy and it haunts you.

"No need to look so sullen, wife," you hear over your shoulder.

If the cold from the early morning wasn't enough to make you shiver, the kiss on your shoulder was.

The ship rocks as you tear your gaze away from King's Landing, King's Landing that looked so tiny now from where you stood. A sea of tears laid between you and the home that will never be yours again. You turn to Dalton. He leans his elbows on the edge of the ship and looks up at you, "we can do many things to liven your mood."

You watch him as he rubs your hips. Your stomach curdles but you manage to offer a smile, "I... am flattered, but I do not want to distract the captain of this ship."

Dalton chuckles and straightens up, "trust me. The crew would appreciate it if you did."

You squeak when he yanks you into him.

"Right boys?!" he calls loudly, "shall I make a salt wife out of my rock wife?!"

The crew cheers and it makes your skin burn in mortification.

The next thing you know, you are thrown over his shoulder. He slaps your ass and takes you to his quarters. The crew laughs as he does.

You helplessly grunt when he drops you on his bed-- your shared bed. You silently peer up at him as he stares at you. You are releived he paces across the room, towards his table. He grabs something and chucks it at you. You flinch but manage to catch it.

He sits on the table as you inspect the pouch. You open it, finding herbs inside.

"I heard you've been drinking that," he says.

You look up at him.

"Haven't you?" he asks.

You smell it and wretch. It smells exactly like-

"Moon tea," Dalton says, making your blood run cold, "for the bastard in your belly.*

You are frozen in your spot. Your stomach drops when he stands and walks over. He grabs your chin. It is not harsh, but it strikes fear in you anyway.

"I asked you a question, wife."

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

"HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING THE FUCKING TEA OR NOT?" he screams, grabbing your neck.

Your hands fly to his grip. Your fingers attempt to pry him away.

You wheeze when he squeezes you. Your flail your legs and try to kick him off. You can't. Just as your vision begins to go dark, he releases you. You fall onto the bed and frantically try to catch your breath. You cough and hear him smash things around the room.

As so you behold the man who said he would not hurt you unless you asked him, brutalize the furniture.

You think your chances are better in the sea rather than on this boat. You slowly maneuver towards the door while he is distracted. Just as you are about to sprint, he grabs you and throws you back down on his bed.

"You stupid slut!" he screams, "you think you can run?!

You try to scream for help, but the pain in your throat when you try to stops you. Not a second later, you scream anyway.

He slaps you across the face, promptly silencing you. The sting is ten times worse than what Daemon did.

"I was promised a Targaryen princess, not some whore of a dragon!" he screams, kicking the chair by his desk across the room. He laughs angrily, shaking his head, "dragon riding, my arse."

Your heart drops as he storms over, "who's the father of your bastard child?!"

Indistinguishable sounds leave your lips.

"ANSWER ME!" he demands, grabbing your shoulders, dragging you to your feet. Your head recoils at the sheer force of it. You take a moment to steady your head.

Your eyes search Dalton's enraged features, hoping to chance upon a sliver of compassion... in vain. The sound that leaves your mouth is response to the bruising squeeze of your arms. You cannot help but whimper as tears stream down your cheeks, "you're hurting me."

He is further angered by this. He gives you a powerful shake. Your head lashes back again and you scream.

"Give me a name!" erupts the lord.

You no longer have it in you to hold your tongue, and so you confess, "Daemon!"

Dalton releases you. He is repulsed, "your brother?" He scoffs, "you revolting, little worm," he slaps you across the face, making you lose your balance.

Before you crash into anything, he grabs you again and keeps you upright. You can feel your cheek and lips swell at his assault.

"And here they had me believing you were some meek lamb," he laughs dryly, brushing your hair back, "you're nothing but a whore, grown from perversion and abomination."

Your expression hardens. You glare at him and rebut, though your head was pounding, "and your sea rituals are more righteous than my family traditions?"

Without another word, Dalton shoves you back, propelling you into his desk. Your skull crashes against the edge with a horrendous thud.

You fall limp onto the floor. Dalton cares little if you were dead or unconscious. He walks out of the room right before he can witness the red staining your white hair.

Dalton is no fool. He knows better than to disfigure a Targaryen princess.

He walks towards the wheel of the ship and continues the course to what his crew believed to be a shortcut to home. In truth, he was bringing the ship to its doom, to face you with with a trail of the sea.

He would crash the ship into a chokehold of rocks, and if you survived, if he found your floating body, he would keep you, as you proved your resilience. But if you were swallowed into the depths, if he was unable to find you in the debris, he would praise the Drowned god for your riddance.

The same want with his crew.

Of course, there was a bit of this that felt like suicide, but he knew he was too vengeful to die, so he knew he had nothing to fear.

When the Greyjoy ship finally reached the rocky pass, Dalton was promptly warned of the danger by his lookout, who he obviously ignored.

He ordered to hoist the sails, and, blindly, the crew followed, even through apparent worry.

It didn't take very long after for the ship to crash into the cliffs.

The crew clamors. They scream and panic, turning to their captain that could not care less. He pretends to steer them to safety, but he actually slammed them further into their demise.

The deck begins to crumble. The mast snaps. The sails break off. Dalton calls to abandon ship.

The crew don't need any more convincing.

One by one, each man for their own, they try to escape with their life.

By the time Dalton jumps off the ship, the thing is half submerged in the water, crumbs of it on the side of a rock.

It was pure chaos.

Dalton swims far enough from the destruction, and knows the gods smiled upon him and his decision when he sees a large wooden slab he can climb on.

He does just that and looks out to his crew, helping the ones that manage to swim over, commanding the others calling for help to simply swim or drown.

He looks around, trying to make out a body of a woman, a blob of a dress, a head of silver hair in the aftermath.

"My wife," he screams, "has anyone seen my wife?!"

He wasn't concerned, of course. He just wanted to know his fate as a husband, but this did make for a good alibi.

His surviving men look and swim around for you. They find no trance.

Dalton presses his lips, "little dragon couldn't fly away."

They take refuge in a cliff. Lord Greyjoy tells his crew not to bitch and panic because they will surely be found by a passing ship soon enough.

He had planned this shipwreck after all.

By the time Dalton and his remaining men were saved, a flash of red circled in the setting sky, hovering over the massive rock that held the shipwreck that bore the sigil of Greyjoy.

Caraxes screeches as his rider commands him to get closer to the scene. The dragon hesitates but eventually lands on the cliff. Waves crash upon the area, causing the beast to bleat when he is wet.

Daemon is frantic as he gazes upon the destruction. He is distressed unlike he's ever been. His voice is distinctly desperate and hysterical. He screams out your name, even though it was nothing against the roar of the splashing waves.

He heaves heavily as he erratically decides to dismount and jump into the water.

As he wades, he tries to convince himself that what he was doing was for naught. Perhaps you were not here to begin with. But the gut feeling was overwhelming; it was sickening.

He tries to believe that bottom feeder, Greyjoy, saved you before his ship crumbled. He tries to convince himself that cunt's lust for you was enough reason to keep you alive.

But he remembers the servant he threatened with a knife whilst demanding to know which route your ship would take. He thinks of how he almost shit himself while confesssing to Daemon that Greyjoy planned to pass through a rocky region as a shortcut. But Daemon's flown over that area, and knew it was out of the way to the Iron Islands.

After squeezing out what's left from that servant, Daemon's face falls when he mentions that rusted octopus had an argument with a servant girl that came to serve the princess a cup of tea.

Daemon was no fool. Dalton was a butish barbarian. If he found out you were drinking Moon Tea, he would do his worst on you for blemishing his pride.

And so he swam. Daemon swam, dove down, and searched for your body until he had to stop because Caraxes was getting restless. He commanded him to calm down, but he could only do it so many times until he, himself, was the same.

He eventually gets back on Caraxes. Daemon can't bring himself to leave just yet however, and finds himself praying to whatever god out there to return his love back to him.

Caraxes circles the area one last time before heading off. For some reason, Daemon feels the urge to check underneath a large slab of shattered wood. He commands his mount to lift it, and the dragon screeches as he does what he can with his hind legs.

The sound that leaves the prince's mouth is what could be described as pure anguish.

A head of silver hair floats up and wafts in the water along with a tattered dress. Your body garnered a horrid tone of grey and you were missing your shoes.

Daemon cannot contain the tears that gush out of his eyes.

Caraxes carries your body in his claws all the way to the Keep.

The way in which he commands his ride to set your body down is frantic and incredibly detailed. Part of him realizes Caraxes probably recognized you, considering the way he laid on his belly and sniffed you as Daemon buckled to his knees and lamented over your stiff and frigid body.

He speaks to you in High Valyrian. His salty tears drip on your salt water drowned body. He promises he will never trick you, never argue with you, and never make you cry ever again if only you open your violet eyes.

He rocks back and forth with you in his arms, unsure which of you he was soothing by doing this.

He swears he will turn the sea red with blood and burn the whole Iron Islands to avenge you.

He is incredibly uncomfortable of the chill of your skin. He shakes his head, telling you dragons must not be kept cold. He kisses your face in an attempt to warm it up. He recounts a time where you accidentally spilled candle wax on him, burning his skin, and tells you that you still need to make up for your offence. He tells you he will forgive you if you simply hold him back.

Viserys had to account for three dragons by the time he found out what was happening, one was Daemon, whose grief morphed into murderous spite. He threatened to slay anyone who wanted to take you from him. Not again. Another was Caraxes, who refused to leave his heartbroken rider's side. The last was your dragon, who felt the loss of your connection, and went into a rabid state mourning.

It takes 5 people to secure your dragon in the pit, 5 people to subdue Caraxes, and 3 people to separate Daemon from your corpse.

The king takes a moment to clutch your hand. His face flinches. Where once your hand was so warm, no warmth now remained. He steps back and watches the maesters cover your body and take you away.

514 notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 3 months

Text

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 2, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real life Barbie" girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, are enjoying each others company during winter break. February brings unexpected drama when the seven-time World Champion decides to leave his team... though is that the only surprise waiting for the fans?

Warnings: Little cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making part 3 soon enough :).

Author's Note: This is continuation of the Lewis x barbie!fashion!icon!reader request, hope you'll all like it. This time there wasn't so much of "barbie content", but I'm sure you won't mind. I honestly love this series, plus there are still many photos for me to use, so stay tuned and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! :)

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by susie_wolff, yourusername, charles_leclerc and 1,210,564 others

tagged: yourusername and fencer

lewishamilton Happy holidays from our little trip to mountains 🏔

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user1 I swear to God this is the first time I see Lewis in snow

user2 ikr? like can he even sky? isn't it dangerous for him as an f1 driver??😭

yourusername merry christmas everybody, love u!!🎄🫶

liked by the author

user3 Very happy and merry Christmas to you too Y/N🥰

user4 yeah yeah... but where's the usual christmas post y/n?!

user5 that's what I wanna know user5 😥

user6 She always posts the hot pics with their tree... and this year nothing ☹️

yourusername omg sry guys, i didn't think you'd care sm! i was actually sick on the christmas eve and didn't feel like celebrating 🙈💖

user4 ohhh that's totally okay y/n!!!!

user7 Thanks for replying, hope you'll get better soon!❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc I see you're copying my training now😉

user8 lol charles just try not to fall on your face on ski

user9 no but can you imagine if we got Charles & Lewis training together in the mountains 😩

user10 It wouldn't even have to be in the mountains... I'd actually prefer them training somewhere hot so they don't have to wear shirts🤭

user9 i love your way of thinking girly

user11 King 👑

roscoelovescoco Mom's and dad's playing's in's the snow's ❄️

liked by the author and yourusername

user12 they left you home alone Roscoe?

roscoelovescoco Of course's not's... my auntie's watched's me's ☺️

user13 This is so adorable🥹🥹

user14 y'all don't understand how much I love their little family

user15 😘🖤✌️💯🌟

user16 y/n's ski suit looks so cool

fencer Good times man!

liked by the author and yourusername

user17 You are my God, Lewis Hamilton❤️

mercedesamgf1 Enjoy your holidays and don't break anything please!⛷🤍

yourusername trying!! 😊🌨

user18 lmfao

user19 Imagine if their best driver broke a leg or smth💀

user20 as a Lewis fan that'd be the last straw of my depression xd

user21 It's enough they couldn't build him a decent car last two years 🥲

user21 you & y/n are the best couple ever!🥰❤️

user22 Why's Lewis in red tho?

user23 sus 🤨

user24 some of you are truly bored and delusional🤣

user25 He probably has it so Y/N can see him on the slope and watches over him tbh

user26 idk where the narrative of lewis being bad at skying came from but i love it 😭

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram stories

seen by lewishamilton, haileybieber, danielricciardo, emmawatson and 562,983 others

lewishamilton replied to your story: Love you so much baby!❤️

yourusername love u too!!!💞

lewishamilton You are my brave girl, aren't you?

lewishamilton It's great you share your experience with others Y/N and trust me when I say I'll always be there for you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

yourusername awww lew, i know and i'll be always so grateful for it 🥰

lewishamilton Anything for my Barbie yourusername reacted with ❤️ to this message

user1 replied to your story: You and Lewis are just soooo cute omg

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: forever y/n!!🤍🌺

yourusername ofc!!!

yourusername you're probably the only reason i hope the negotiations w ferrari will work out 🙈🤭

alexandrasaintmleux oh yeah, it'd be great to have you in the garage next year 💕

yourusername yeah, let's see what happens in few weeks!

user2 replied to your story: so prettyyyyyy i wanna be u

user3 replied to your story: THE IT GIRL

landonorris replied to your story: The question isn't if you'll be at every gp but if you'll come to McLaren hospitality for one of them😏

yourusername pretty sure mercedes wouldn't be happy about that 🫣

landonorris Oh c'mmon Y/NNNN

landonorris You promised me like ten years ago you'd come

yourusername you were a literal baby ten years ago lando...

landonorris But a cute baby who deserves to have you in McLaren hospitality!!!

yourusername okay okay, i'll come for a visit this year 😽

landonorris ONE HAMILTON DOWN TWO TO GO💪

yourusername what?? 😭

landonorris I decided my life goal is to get you, Roscoe and Lewis to be my fans 😁😁

landonorris Lewis can wait till retirement ofc 😁😁

yourusername idk if i hate you or love you mr. worldwide

landonorris 🤷😙

user4 replied to your story: Mommy and daddy fr

user5 replied to your story: 😍

user6 replied to your story: Hope you'll heal soon if you're still sick!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

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tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername my job is beach 🦀🐬🐚🪸☀️ (btw how many emojis is too much??)

view all 4,068 comments

lewishamilton Isn't that supposed to be Ken's line darling?

yourusername theoretically... but i think i look better on the beach, don't you? 🤭🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton Well of course, your fashion taste when it comes to bikini is hard to beat ✨🫶🏾

yourusername damn are you saying i look hot in that bikini mr. hamilton? ☺️💞

lewishamilton It's Sir actually

yourusername oh shut up lew, i knew you're gonna bring it up 😭

landonorris I just witnessed Lewis openly flirting through instagram comments... the world won't ever be the same. I need to bleach my eyes 😓

yourusername yeah u should learn from my bf lando norizz

landonorris Heyyy this is online bullying, someone stop it

yourusername 😘😘

landonorris 🫤

user1 i have no idea what just happened but i loved every second of it

user2 It looks like when Lewis finally interacts with someone on instagram, it can get WILD

user3 not y/n using lando norizz 💀

user4 she's one of us now

user5 BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SWEET Y/N & LEWIS ARE PLS?!!🥹

user6 Y/N living her best life and I'm here for it

francisca.cgomes enjoy!🌴

liked by the author

yourusername thx kika, you too!!💓

user7 On my knees for you🛐🛐🛐

roscoelovescoco The fruit's on's the plane's was yummy's 😋🥗

yourusername i definitely agree, let's thank dad for spoiling us!💖

lewishamilton My favourites deserve only the best 😉

user8 AWWWW so cute

user9 I'll never understand why rich people torture their pets like this... c'mmon, why would you give fruit to a dog? He needs meat and dog food. 🙄😤

user10 tf user9 you clearly don't know them at all if you think they're torturing Roscoe... this dog has better life than most of us lol xd

yourusername i'd just like to make it clear to everyone that me and lewis take the best care of our dog we possibly can, give him the food he wants and needs and love him dearly. it feels very offending for someone who doesn't see into our private life to assume we're "torturing" roscoe. you'll be blocked user9 and goodbye

liked by lewishamilton

user11 You know you fucked up when queen Y/N herself writes smth like this to you 🫢

user12 tell them girl!!! you & lew are literally the best parents to roscoe ever!!!❣️

user13 🔥😍

user14 THE BODY GIVING

kellypiquet Wow, the dress is so beautiful!💝

yourusername aww kelly thank you sm! definitely have to see each other soon 💕🫶

kellypiquet Can't wait for the girls talk!

user15 omg imagine listening to y/n y/l/n and kelly piquet casually having girls talk w each other 😫😫

user16 The tea has to be hot between the wags

user17 OMG, gorgeous as always 💖

user18 this couple has me in a chokehold

user19 RIGHT?! why is nobody talking about the 4th pic

user20 They're so hot fr 🥵

user21 and cute too🥺

user22 Love you Y/N 💋

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by nicolashamilton, naomischiff, tomholland2013, landonorris and 1,983,022 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton It's always important to focus on happy memories and remember the good moments with your loved ones. Couldn't ask for better people around me 🤞🏾💫

view all 11,239 comments

user1 funny how he talks about positivity and then in the first picture he's holding middle fingers up lmfao XD

user2 Maybe he took Daniel's F.E.A. rule to his heart🤣

user3 what's that???

user2 Fuck 'em all

yourusername so lucky to have you around me lew! 🥰💗

liked by the author

user4 stoppp I love her

user5 I wanna have what they have😩

charles_leclerc 🤞💫

user6 Ariana what are you doing here?!

user7 Beautiful 🙌❤️

user8 ohhh lew w his dad it's so cute

user9 His dad and Y/N in the same post... we are getting fed rn

neymarjr Amen brother!🙏❤️

liked by the author

user10 I love their their friendship

user11 it's so unreal how the world is small and my fav football player is friends with my fav driver🤭

user12 THE MAN

user13 the second pic is adorable 🥹🥹

user14 I'm jealous but I don't know if I wanna be him or her

user15 honestly i wanna be the third person in their relationship... imagine dating y/n y/l/n & lewis hamilton all at once😩

user16 OMG REAL

user17 boyfriend lewis is my favorite 🫡

1st February 2024

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, lewishamilton, maxfewtrell, t22felton and 3,340,276 others

yourusername guess it's time to change colours ❤️🍓🌹🏎

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scuderiaferrari Welcome to the team, Y/N!❤️‍🔥🏎

user1 you'll make our fav wag depressed next year lol

user2 Ferrari made a master move here 👏

user3 welcome y/nnnnn 🥰

user4 I'm still shocked

user5 me too sis😭

user6 We all are 😃

user7 🔥🔥

user8 when the gf is posting about it, we know it's not just a joke anymore😥

user9 FORZA FERRARI

user10 omg me & y/n y/l/n will be fans of the same team!!!!

user11 literally the only good thing about this

alexandrasaintmleux red looks gorgeous on you 💋💋

yourusername on both of us babe 💋💋

user12 BESTIES

user11 okay this is another good thing about the whole lewis situation xd

user13 Y/N and Alex will be so iconic next year 🙇‍♀️

user14 literally life goals to be like them😍

user15 So excited for this🤩 favorite driver and favorite team and favorite wag🤝

user16 idc about ferrari, but y/n in red slays

user17 omg yessss she's so hot in that dress🥵

charles_leclerc And now you can't make fun of me and my therapist 😘

liked by the author

user18 LOL

user19 not him admitting he goes to therapy bc of ferrari💀

user20 What about Carlos?? You said you come as a package 😡😪

user21 so true user20 it's so disrespectful towards carlos

user22 Guys calm down, this is their job and it's known for brutal driver switches. You'll have to deal with it, it's not personal business 🤷‍♂️

user23 yeah i don't think they're such good friends anyway... it was all for pr and marketing lmao

user24 I agree that it's just a sport, but pls don't do this to my charlos heart... their friendship HAS to be real😓

user25 Always support u and your boyfriend😉😉😉🙌🙌🙌

user26 Carlos deserved so much more!

user27 yes but she can't do anything about it girl, she's literally just dating Lewis 😐

user28 "Everybody is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans." Vettel❤️

user29 i did not think it was real

user30 I need Lewis to comment something about this other than his statement pls 😭

user31 yeah i had high hopes bc he always comments and interacts w y/n's posts...

user32 Guess not this time😒

user33 Y/N unleashing more waves of chaos

user34 and we love our barbie for that 🤭

messages between Y/N and Lewis

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, follow and any other way of support. Also, I started my taglist, so if you want to be added or removed, let me know! That way you!ll be first to know that another smau or story came out :). Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making another part. Have a great day!

Taglist: @namgification @bloodyymaryyy

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monimccoythings · 2 months

Text

Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)

This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.

This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.

Tw: mentions of death

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.

The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.

You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.

He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.

Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.

Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.

When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.

Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)

Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.

Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.

It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.

You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.

#alastor x reader #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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dhoranbolt · 3 months

Text

I won't tell if you won't

A/n: this isn't the fic to the previous Sukuna hc I put out, I'm still working on that one and this one is finished so I figured I'd just go ahead and post this one until the other is ready! If anyone else wants to be like forever tagged in my stuff just let me know, I don't want to spam tag everyone on everything if they aren't interested in all of them!

Shout-out to @yukios-medic for being the bestie and the beta reader 🥹💙

Pairing: Yuji Itadori x fem!reader Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: smut, all characters are aged up, 18+, voyeurism/exhibitionism, minors/ ageless blogs do not interact

---

She’s learned to deal with the fact that Sukuna is just there whenever he does decide to make an appearance.

He normally keeps the visits to a minimum, choosing to ignore the brat and his annoying girlfriend who he’s been forced to indirectly spend so much time with. He himself has definitely not developed any sort of feelings for.

So, when she’s riding Yuji in his room, his hands grasping her hips, the last thing on her mind is Sukuna.

Until the slit under Yuji’s eye opens and a crimson iris stares up at her, followed by a second mouth on his cheek. Her stomach twists at his sudden intrusion on their intimacy.

But Sukuna only narrows his eye while grinning up at her slowly, daring her to bring up his presence.

He’s cackling to himself. It’s almost as if she was riding his cock, and not the brat’s. Sukuna keeps his eye trained on her face, watching a new blush creep up it, watching as she tries to ignore his stare boring into her.

And she does, for the most part. Right up until she’s falling apart on Yuji’s dick. She risks a glance just under his eyes to see Sukuna still watching her, a shit-eating grin pulling across his teeth. Somehow, all of it goes unnoticed by her boyfriend, and she shuts her eyes tightly to escape Sukuna’s gaze.

But it’s still there.

Behind closed eyelids, she’s no longer on Yuji’s lap. A pair of red eyes burn up at her, black markings line his face, and she bites her lip through her moan.

Sure, it was his vessel she was impaling herself on at the moment, but she came to the eye contact he’d held her in.

Sukuna had just found his new favorite pastime.

It’s the first time it happens, and she feels guilty. She won’t bring it up. Won’t bring up the weird way in which it almost felt, if only for a second, like she was riding the king of curses himself.

___

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast

#jjk #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #yuji x reader #kinda yuji too #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #yuji smut #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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attractedtopeoples · 4 months

Text

Jake Webber NSFW Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet

Tags/Warnings: mdni, smutty/suggestive stuff below the cut, don’t like don’t read, written with afab!reader in mind

Johnnie’s version here, Tara’s version here

A/N: hiya, im going insane should I do a Tara version???

Aftercare (what’re they like afterwards)

King of post-sex sleepy cuddles but will definitely make sure your cleaned up and comfortable before he falls asleep, his head is most definitely on your chest as he sleeps too btw.

Body part (favourite of their partners, favourite of their own)

With a afab Partner, their tits. I’m really not going to explain this one too much bc I think it’s obvious (my guy mentions them every second video) but yh.

And it’s a touch odd but he loves his lower stomach, mainly bc you always trace the stars and now he mainly relates that tattoo with those memories of you.

Cum (all things to do w/ cum)

Opposite of Johnnie, loves to make a mess on you. Your stomach, back, tit’s, face- doesn’t matter, he loves it all. He does love being able to ‘clean up’ your tits though (he gets to leave hickeys and lovebites on his favourite part of you, he loves that shit)

Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Absolutely a sucker for your nails scratching the back of his neck, or down his back. A bit of a masochist in the sense that he likes small twinges of pain. small enough to not hurt badly- but enough to remind him of you whenever he traces them.

Experience (are they experienced? do they know what they’re doing? etc.)

I’d say average amount of experience, but doesn’t ever brag (other than silly jokes abt getting more bitches than Johnnie), however he has assets, and he knows how to use them, and he uses them well.

Favourite Position (Self-explanatory)

Definitely a sucker for you riding him (cowgirl), and loves to watch your tits bounce along with you.

After a bit he’ll lose patience and help you out a touch, pulling you down onto his chest or swapping positions so your legs are around his waist as he’s pinning you down.

Goofy (are they more serious or silly during the moment?)

Again I feel like a mix between both, but more of a lean into silly, and he loves to tease at the same time.

Hair (are they groomed, do they care if you’re groomed, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Doesn’t care if your shaved and doesn’t bother shaving unless you specifically ask him too, he simply doesn’t see the point in shaving- it’s just hair.

again, it’s a touch darker than his natural hair, but o her than that it does match.

Intimacy (are they romantic in the moment?)

He’s definitely the type to mutter love confessions into your neck- either as you cuddle or fuck- it doesn’t matter, he loves being so close to you and being able to be honest with you about his feelings- plus the ability to give you a few hickeys as he does is a bonus.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanons)

Horny bastard, but he’s usually confident/comfortable enough to tell you so it’s rare that he jacks off, but it’s not entirely uncommon

maybe once/twice a week as a most/average

Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Face Sitting- loves to have you on his face, it’s quite simple. (He also loves your thighs, so win-win)

Praise- he likes to give and receive this one, but you’ll find it more common to receive this one after a good day, and giving it to him after a bad one

Bondage- rarely but he likes to have his hands tied together behind his back- not being allowed to touch you as a form of punishment- a truly cruel one bc he’s naturally a very touchy person, especially so in these moments.

Switch- he leans more towards dominance but is fine with subbing every now and then.

Location (preference in terms of place)

Does not care. At all. (That’s a lie, there are obviously some no-no’s but you get the point). He does prefer places where you can both be comfortable (mainly you)

Motivation (what turns them on)

You.

He’s such a simp it’s not funny (it is), and he’s so sensitive to touch as well, a truly incredible combo- especially if you feel like being a bit of a tease.

No (turn offs/hard no’s, what they won’t do)

Similar to Johnnie, nothing that he fees could seriously injure you, and definitely nothing where you’d be even slightly uncomfortable. He might try but he doesn’t really understand why. (No matter how much he jokes about Johnnie spanking him)

Oral (preference in giving/receiving, skill, etc)

A bit if both honestly, great at giving, and extremely careful not to hurt you when receiving. A very ‘in-the-middle’ guy when it comes to giving and receiving head.

Pace (what pace do they go at during sex)

He tends to do slightly above average speed, but always deeper- and sweet Jesus is he good at knowing what you want. Whether it be wanting more or less he is very observant and is usually able to adjust rather quickly to what you need/ask for.

Quickie (opinions on quickies)

Dislikes them, only because he likes the patience he can have as he kisses you and your body, borderline body worship every time because ‘that’s what you deserve’ (his words)

Again, wouldn’t say no but would simply prefer to wait until you guys could be alone and take your time with each other.

Risk (are they down to experiment? Do they take risks in their sex life?)

I think he is willing to try anything you ask, but otherwise would default to what he knows. And in terms of doing something in public, well he wouldn’t say no.

Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This guy has some stamina, I’d say 3-4 rounds before he starts to tire out, but similar to Johnnie he’s very willing to give head if your not done.

Toys (do they own them? do they use them?)

I think he owns them, but hasn’t really used them on himself. If his partner wanted to use them on him- go for it, but he’s never found the need to use them himself. He is also fine with using them on his partner.

Unfair (do they like to tease?)

Definitely. This man might not be exceedingly patient, but in terms of this, he could tease/edge for hours before giving in to what you’re asking.

Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make, etc)

I feel like he isn’t overly loud, but not overly quiet either. It entirely depends on the situation and what’s going on. Definitely a groaner but I’m not really gonna describe sounds more than that.

Wild Card (random headcanon)

I loves when you trace his tattoo’s, both in the moment and outside of it, he loves watching your face as you focus on tracing each one.

X-Ray (what’s going on under the clothes)

7 inches, slightly leans to the right, no more explaining.

#E7D8C0 > #F2CFBE

Yearning (how high/low is their sex drive?)

Above Average, about 4+ a week, but if yours is higher or lower he adapts to it easily.

Zzz (how quick they fall asleep after)

He makes sure that your comfortable and all aftercare has been sorted out, but then the second he closes his eyes he’s out like a light.

#18+ mdni #mdni #lily’s thoughts #fandom: youtube rpf #I don’t know if there is a fandom name for these two #divider by cafekitsune #divider by animatedglittergraphics n more #divider by saradika #I use a few accounts for dividers #jake webber #jake webber smut #smut

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siriusly-parker · 4 months

Text

—more. [isaac garcia, mlwtwb]

“Lowly knights and mighty kings, they all want more”

tags. [fluff, angst, bonfire party, childhood best friends to lovers, jealousy, drunken confessions]

author’s note. [thank you for all of the requests!! i got a TON, so i tried to mix a few ideas into one fic, so i could get it out to you guys as fast as possible! ꩜ i siriusly love you <3]

wc. [4k]

—fic under the cut!

‧˚ʚ ⋆ ꜝꜞ

Aside from her predicament with the Walter boys, Y/n did really like Jackie. Who she didn’t get along with where her newfound friendships. Skyler and Grace where gossipers. Y/n knew they just enjoyed being close to the center of it all. Skyler was just annoying, and she didn’t enjoy the way he treated Nathan at all, but she could get past that and tolerate his presence. Grace though… she was just a bitch. She hated Grace, “Gracie” as she used to call her. They actually used to be good friends, until high school made the girl even more of a newsmonger. The slight whiff of a scandal and she’d come running like a dog, even to the detriment of the people around her. She gets carried away, forgets it’s real people and not a movie. Maybe she gets a high out of the attention she gets from sharing the information she dishonestly collects. People only come to see her to know all about other’s lives. Gracie’s own is incredibly boring, she’s sheltered. So, gossiping is her only way of living some sort of excitement, through others, of course. Y/n pities her, in a way. But she mostly, mostly hates her guts.

At the annual bonfire party, after an insane amount of begging from her best friend, Y/n took a ride with the Walter’s. Cole got them there, but Danny was, as per usual, the designated driver. Y/n didn’t enjoy drinking either, but she didn’t have her permit yet, postponing her lessons every chance she got. She liked driving with the boys, she even had her own designated seat. Being their neighbour meant they’d get her to school too, and that Isaac would practice his own driving on his uncle’s truck with her. He was good, she felt safe.

When they got there, Jackie immediately jumped to Gracie, while Nathan ran to see Skyler, who didn’t truly seem to be as excited. Y/n rolled her eyes so hard, she’d probably get a headache from it. “Careful, you’ll get stuck like that.” Laughed Cole as he closed the door and threw the keys to his twin brother. “I can’t help myself!” She pleads in annoyance as she turns to her best friend for support. When she looks at Isaac, he’s looking over at the fire, not listening to their conversation at all.

He had been mostly quiet the whole ride, which she didn’t necessarily mind. They're used to comfortable silence, understanding each other beyond words. Even before him and Lee went to live with their cousins, they often came to visit. Y/n came to know that truck by heart, always sneakily asking her parents if she could go play with the neighbour boys when she saw it drive past.

Isaac actually had a stutter as a child. He wasn’t always as confident as he seemed now. Ashamed, he often stayed quiet. At first, Lee talked for him most of the time, but as their friendship grew, they learned to communicate without much words early on. The banter came later, when puberty hit and he became popular with the ladies. Sometimes though, when they’re alone, his quiet side shines through. Maybe tonight he just didn’t feel like talking much. That would be fine, but she knew there was something more.

“Hey,” It’s spoken softly. Hearing her voice, he shook himself out of his trance and noticed everyone was gone to exactly where he was looking. He was too bewitched by the fire to notice the people around it. “you’re quiet.” She chuckles. She says it as a fact, as something she noticed, but he knows she means it as a question that needed answering. He rubs the back of his neck, not sure of what to say. “Oh… uh~ yeah.” A giggle escapes her lips at that. “Recompose yourself, Garcia. You have a reputation to uphold.” He knows she’s teasing, but before he can answer, her hand leaves his forearm and she’s headed towards the party, like everyone else.

People wave at her, Cole screams something, Danny laughs. All he sees is fire. As if she’s walking right into it. She looks beautiful. The lack of her touch is more noticeable now. It feels wrong. He didn’t even notice she was touching him. It’s not unusual per say, but you’d think he would notice. Maybe it wasn’t her voice that drew his attention, maybe it was the familiarity of her touch. She knew that sometimes he was so inside his head that only a gentle squeeze could do the job that words couldn’t. But the fact she kept it, and he allowed it, like it didn’t matter, was what perplexed him. He’d usually be thrilled, but he was too tense to even feel it. Maybe that’s what made him stutter again. She had that effect on him, even though she helped him through it the most. He couldn’t get the idea of her out of his head, but he didn’t know how to tell her.

“Buddy, c’mon.” Danny’s voice pulled him out of his haze. “It’ll just come out naturally when you talk to her, don’t stress about it.” It comes out so casual, as if it was obvious between the two boys. “What are you talking about, dude? I’m just kinda tired. Didn’t even wanna come to this trash party.” He scoffs unconvincingly to his older cousin. “Yeah okay. You were the most excited. You dragged Y/n here, when you know she doesn’t even like parties. Look, if you have something to say to her, just do. It doesn’t have to be special, or a big deal, or even tonight. Now let’s go. She’s all alone in a party she didn’t wanna go to, with people she can’t stand.” Isaac laughs at that, knowing she’s probably poking at Cole’s last nerves or teasing Alex and Lee. He also knew that, sadly, the company of her friends didn’t compensate for breathing the same air as some deeply annoying people. “Well, to be fair, Gracie is a pain in the ass. Girl can’t mind her own business.” Danny pushes his back harder as he holds his shoulders, guiding him towards their friends. “You know she likes you right?” Danny questions, but Isaac just rolls his eyes. “Right, she likes anything that looks in her direction.” The Walter boy nods enthusiastically, as if it was all evident. “Right, yeah. And, you don’t care—obviously- cause you like Y/n, anyway!” Isaac’s head turns sharp at that, but he relaxes at Danny’s unconcerned smirk. He couldn’t get anything past the boy. His feelings were hiding behind a glass window to everyone, but her. Finally giving up the act, he shakes Danny’s hands off him and walks the final few steps towards the crowd on his own. “Shut up…”

When Isaac finally joins the party, he’s immediately swarmed by a raid of girls. Y/n watched from far away, lightly laughing at the absurdity of it all. But, a part of her is jealous. She doesn’t want him to spend time with these girls, he’s supposed to be her best friend. She’s the one supposed to have all of his attention… and more. Before she can shut down that too recurring thought, she feels someone walk up beside her.

“Isaac Garcia, honorary Walter, and breaker of hearts! Why don’t you join the fan club?” The boy teases in a theatrical manner. She recognized him, Matthew, from the football team. “I didn’t have time to sign up, sadly. But I don’t think there’s any more place to join, now.” She mimicked his dramaturgic expression. “King Garcia has a big heart, thou shall not worry! The more the merrier.” She laughs at that. He’s being ridiculous, but it’s getting a reaction out of her. Matthew did not mind being ridiculed if it meant she would be the one laughing. After the laughter quieted down, she answered honestly. “Not for me, I don’t think so.” But she kept their act going, finding it fun. “I have come to accept this sad reality a long time ago, My Knight! When I was still only a small peasant girl.” He smiles, before dropping the Shakespearean accent. “I am glad.” “You are?” She suspiciously questions. “Of course. That means you can join my club. As the face of it, of course. The Y/n appreciation club.” The play is back on, and so are the theatrics. “Oh, I’d be delighted, My Knight. Not many members I suppose?” “Only me, for now, My Queen. But not by lack of trying from others. It’s just that…” His face drops forward comically, pressing her to ask, “That what, My Kight?” Dramatically, he sighs. “They have to fight to the death to join… and I’m a very good duelist. Very motivated… to be the sole member of this club.” “How so?” She truly wonders. “It would mean that I would have your undivided attention, My Queen. That would be a great prize, indeed.” He says, slowly coming back to his true self. Y/n actually didn’t expect that. Most boys don’t give her the time of day, let alone display their affection so clearly. “Oh…” “Oh.” He teases, and she giggles at the realization.

Through the sea of undesirable faces surrounding him, Isaac sees the interaction. Why is she laughing? What could he be saying that’s so incredibly funny? He should be the one making her laugh like that. But, that’s not really fair, though, is it? He didn’t even come up to her since he left the side of the car. She’d be alone if it wasn’t for the footballer. He’s glad she has company, he just wishes it was him instead. Not keeping his eyes off the girl, he distractedly excuses himself from the herd. Slightly pushing people out of his way, he goes directly towards the new pair of friends. Y/n is laughing and twirling her hair. She never twirls her hair. Her dress is pretty. Short. She was wearing a dress? Is it new? He’s never seen it before. Did she wear it for him? For Matthew? Did they talk before tonight? Why is he so pressed about this? Why does he care so badly? Heart beating louder than the music, his hands reach to another random drink. Suddenly, his legs start to walk on their own towards the girl he can’t help but love.

As he comes up behind her, Y/n sees Matthew’s expression change. “Well, time is up, My Lady.” He theatrically bows down to her as Isaac puts his arms around her shoulders. Y/n’s confused at his sudden change of behaviour. “I’ll see you later, Princess.” He winks and walks away while Isaac stands confused. Did he just call her Princess? What a player… What even was their dynamic? He didn’t actually plan on interrupting anything, but now that he did, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Lost in thought again, he only notices her expression when she yells out the other boy’s name and moves towards him, making Isaac’s drunken arm drop. Matthew turns around and softly smiles at her. He motions for her to come closer and whispers something in her ear. That secret makes her blush, and Isaac is furious, not knowing what was said. Why did he have that effect on her? As Matthew leaves Y/n with a pat on the head, she sheepishly comes back to where her best friend was standing. The closer she got, the warmer he cheeks felt, and apparently looked. Isaac noticed, but didn’t truly understand he was the source of it.

“So? What did cocky all-American football star Matthew want to do with you?” Isaac says matter-of-factly. His words start to slur. Nothing makes much sense, except the thought that she may be in love with someone else. She takes a step back. He suddenly went from quiet to mean. What happened in that pit of girls? Was he tired of breaking hearts? Was yours the only one left? “He’s not cocky, he’s actually very nice…” She tries to add, but it comes out hushed, shy. The words hurt more than she cared to admit. Her biggest insecurities highlighted by the one she cared for most. “And- I’m sorry if it’s too hard for you to imagine… that someone could actually like… me,” It comes out slow, as if she was carefully choosing her words and not only trying not to cry. “but there’s no need to be so rude…” Her last words are barely louder than a whisper. With the ringing in his ear and the loud music, he’s scared he simply imagined it. But her eyes tell him that even if she didn’t say it, that’s how she felt. He was deliberately rude and knowingly mean and he felt absolutely awful.

“Y/n… you know that’s not what I meant…” “I don’t know that…” She avoids his gaze, kicking the sand beneath her feet. “I just-” “You what?” “He’s a jock! He must have bad intentions!” She scoffs at that. “Or maybe! Just maybe! Someone likes me! Crazy, I know! But not that impossible…” “I don’t doubt that anyone could like you, Y/n. You’re-” When she finally looks at him, demanding an explanation, his mind goes silent. How could he tell her how deeply amazing he truly thought she was? “It’s just that- He’s a football star! They’re dicks!” That’s the excuse he comes up with. “Ok? Cole was a football star?” “And he’s a dick! I love him… but look at Erin…” She nods sarcastically. “Well, I’m glad you’re concerned, but I won’t follow him around like a puppy, waiting for attention. I’ve done that enough actually…” She mumbles, but he hears. He always hears her. “Y/n…” She dismisses him with a wave. “Go back to your little fan club, Isaac…” As Y/n walks away she blinks back a few tears that were threatening to spill. Isaac watched her sit down by the fire besides Matthew, hugging her knees. He’s making her laugh, and everything gets more real. He was the asshole, and he hated himself for it. Before going to apologize, he just needed another drink.

As he turns his back to the fire, he bumps into Grace, who didn’t seem this shocked. “God! I didn’t see you!” She feigns innocence, as she offers him a new red plastic cup. Isaac takes it without much thought, constantly looking back at where Y/n and Matthew were sitting. He’s too distracted to care about Grace and too buzzed to even understand what she’s saying. He nods at whatever she’s saying before noticing her hand on his shoulder. “Ew, get off, Grace.” The intoxication in his voice is clear, but he’ll never be wasted enough to want her, or anyone other than the girl he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. Gracie doesn’t seem to take a hint, putting her other hand on his free shoulder. By the time Isaac turns back to look at her, Y/n is already on her feet marching towards them. “Oh no… she’s coming to ruin our fun…” Grace pouts, but Isaac doesn’t hear, too mesmerized by the girl stomping her way to them. “Get off, Grace.” Y/n pushes her off and instinctively checks on Isaac. Taking his drink from him and buttoning his jacket back on, she says, “Ok, it’s time to go, pretty boy.” She softly smiles at him, knowing he doesn’t need a lecture right now. After she puts his hair back into place, she turns to a whining Grace and tells her matter-of-factly, “Also.. Gracie… eat shit and die.” She scoffs and flips her hair like in the movies. At least, that’s how Isaac sees it. His savior in slow motion, he thinks and laughs. He looks stupid and drunk, and so so so in love with her. It’s time to go home.

“Y/n, that was not nice…” Jackie comes up to her, but Y/n ignores her, fully knowing the point of her words were to be mean. She could be the devil when she wanted. And Grace was always a free pass for being bitchy. The amount of times that Y/n had to defend Isaac as a child, she knew how to take care of the boy. This came naturally to her.

“You do not want to feel the wrath of the neighbor girl, Jackie.” Cole laughs as he pats her shoulders and goes past her towards the car. Danny joins him, keys in hand. “She’s his fiercest defender, don’t try her. She’d burn the world for him, I’m pretty sure.” He warns, mumbling the last part. “Walter family! In the car! Now!” Y/n demands, holding Isaac up. “Yes ma’am!” Cole winks at Jackie, who’s slowly understing the dynamics of the family. “No one is safe if he’s the one in danger. No matter how much you think she loves you, there’s no one on earth she cares more about than him.” He whispers in her ear as he sits down considerably close to her. “She’s crazy mad, guys! Get in the car!” Danny yells for the others to come. Lee and Nathan run up to the car, fully knowing who’s boss.

When they finally get home, Y/n walks right past everyone with Isaac to put him to bed. No one says a word, knowing it’d be better not to test her in times like these.

Isaac starts laughing when they go past his door. “Y/n! Are you crazy?” She shushes him for being too loud. “Are you crazyyy?” He tries again in a loud whisper. “What are you talking about?” She can’t help but laugh a little too. “You can’t come into my roooooooom. Not at this hour! No girls over. Aunt Katherine is gonna be piiiiiiiissed.” “I’m just putting you to bed, Isaac. You’re drunk.” She chuckles, pushing him towards his bed so he can sit down. “Oh…” He’s quite obvious in his disappointment. As she chooses clothes for him to sleep in, she tries to reassure him. “Katherine said I could stay tonight, ok? Because of the party. I’ll sleep on the couch.” His excitement is brought back by that piece of information. “Oh! We can watch a movieeeeee, and-” “No, Isaac. We sleep. You don’t want to be visibly hangover in the morning. Then, Katherine would kill you.” She turns away from his dresser and puts his clothes beside him on the bed. “Here. Your pjs. Put them on, I’ll put mine on, and then we’ll go brush our teeth, ok?” “Ok…” His eyes wander to her dress. It’s pretty. It’s short. He wants to tell her it’s pretty. Instinctively, his hands wander to the hem of the dress. His thumb strokes the fabric, it's nice. There’s a silence between them. Y/n doesn’t actually leave the room, like she had planned. “Pretty… it’s-“ “Thanks.” She quickly interrupts. In his daze, his hands move from her skirt to her thigh. The touch is soft, feather-like. He’s scared she’ll break otherwise. Y/n holds her breath, but before she can say anything, he lifts his arms up. “Help.” He simply says like a child who can’t undress themselves. It takes a while for her to process his request, but she doesn’t decline.

When she first touches the bottom of his shirt, and her hand accidentally brushes over his skin, she can’t help but feel her heart skip. It’s not as if she had never seen him shirtless before. Countless summers at the Walter household gave her many opportunities to gawk. But this felt different. The two of them, alone in his room. It’s as if, in her anger at Grace, she had forgotten their own fight.

Matthew had abs too, even more, probably. A football star boyfriend would be great, she tried to convince herself. But the thought didn’t persuade her, as it didn’t give her the butterflies that Isaac’s simple smile easily could.

As she lifts his shirt up, she can’t help but think back at what Matthew whispered to her back at the bonfire party. “Go to your King. Do not settle for a lowly knight like me.” She later tried to explain to him she didn’t feel as though he was “lowly”, but he saw through her makeshift walls right to where she hid her feelings for the older Garcia boy. She didn’t know why he acted the way he did that night, so quiet, and then so rude, but she pushed it all away, they’d talk about it tomorrow.

When she finally took off his shirt, she couldn’t help but stare a little. She quickly shook it off and put his old band shirt on. There were a few holes in it, but with his grey hoodie on top, it didn’t really matter. Looking at his neatly folded red checkered pyjama pants, he got up and said, in the same way as before, “Help.” She chuckled, and turned away to leave. “You can do that part on your own, I’m sure.” She could feel his smirk burning at the back of her head.

In the bathroom, she put her own pyjama set on and started her nightly routine. Hearing a knock at the door, she swiftly opened, knowing it must be Isaac coming to brush his teeth.

They brush their teeth together and Isaac sits on top of the counter, waiting for her to finish taking off her makeup and doing all of her skincare. “You’re so pretty…” The sudden break in the comfortable silence shocks her. Of all the things he could’ve said, she didn’t expect this. Seeing she didn’t answer, he kept going. “And smart too. You’re more than your looks of course, but you are very pretty. I know I make fun of you for your thousand steps routine, but I actually do enjoy it. Gives me more time to just look at you…” “Isaac…” She tried to cut in on his rant. “And- And I didn’t mean that… At the bonfire. I know people like you. How could they not… I just- i just don’t want you to like them…” He was drunk, he’d regret it in the morning. She feels as though she’s reading someone’s secret diary. He’s drunk and an open book for her to skim through. “Isaac…” She warns again, but he shakes his head. “I guess I was just jealous… ‘cause you were laughing… so much with Matthew. What were you even laughing at? He can’t be that funny. I’m funny. I want you to like me…” He groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I do like you…” Y/n tries to reassure him. “Well then… I want you to love me.” She takes his hand, making him look at her fully. “I love you, Isaac. A lot.” He smiles. “You’re my best friend.” It drops. “No…” That was wrong. That’s not what he wanted. “No?” She questions. “I don’t want you to love me like a best friend… I want you to love me as… more.” “More?” “More.” He says it as a pledge. “Will your answer stay the same in the morning?” There’s a smile on her face. She can’t help but dwell on the possibility of what could be. “I promise.” He’s sure of himself. “Ok, then we’ll talk about it when you’re well-rested.” She laughs. “Now get down, sleepyhead. It’s time for bed.” Isaac didn’t argue, knowing full well that in the morning, he’d be telling her the same thing. Over and over again if that’s what she wished to hear.

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‎𐦂 hope you enjoyed it!! comment what you think! and please don’t forget to reblog!!! ◡̈

ʚ masterlist + resquests!

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#isaac garcia #isaac garcia x reader #isaac walter #angst #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #x you #my life with the walter boys #isaac mlwtwb #mlwtwb #my life with the walter boys isaac

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