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#if they don’t make this accurate i swear
ponchusjbonchus · 2 days
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i finished hazbin hotel so here is my master collection of all my silly notes
episode 1  
- treat angel dust better and give him actual lines and it’ll be better
- why do the background demons have more variety than the main cast 
- opening number is good 
- when will jesus appear 
- cannibal town is where i wanna live 
- i should keep a swear counter for this 
- charlie is the best character 
- adam shaving down a chicken bone in one bite is really funny 
- i like adam his voice actor is doing really good 
-  all the voice actors are really good. except keith david poor guy
- angel dust sexually harassing husk is not funny
- if adam is a human who sins then why is he in charge of the angel exterminators 
- nifftys commercial bit is funny
- alastors monocle  is on  his mouth in some shots and it’s funny 
- i like the foreshadowing of alastor hating tv 
- lutes design. heart emoji 
- adams song goes hard as fuck. very likeable villain 
- “fuck you i do what i want” contract made me giggle 
- i feel like all the main characters except for charlie and alastor are really one note and it bugs me 
- katie killjoy is still awesome 
- the cliffhanger is really intriguing and i will watch more
final score 8/10 despite the bad dialogue for angel 
episode 2 
intro song is good but the visuals are boring 
what is this cat. who
why is the animation worse in this episode 
paused to read valentino’s texts and the way he sways from calling angel a bitch to calling him babe and being like “don’t be like this” that is like.yeah that’s accurate 
foreshadowing is good 
JESUS APPEARED (sir pentious)
“trust us with your money” 😭
not really resonating with any characters. vox has the best character design so far though 
velvette is really entertaining 
valentino’s voice actor is good and his jokes are somehow better than angels. still a horrible person and i hope he gets exterminated
vox is really interesting and the thing his voice does is cool . i REALLLY wanna like this guy but so far i like adam better 
second time seven years has been mentioned . what happened 
WHILE HE HID IN RADIO WE PIVOTED TO VIDEO NOW HIS MEDIUM IS GETTING BLOODY RARE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️vivienne be damned but the girl can write a song 
alastor fucking with vox after seeing him for seemingly no reason is really funny and in character . though funny it doesn’t really fit into the episode that smoothly 
hell being shaped like a pentagram is creative (side note when i looked up the name for it cuz i couldn’t remember the third result was “what is the star thing called”)
alastors angry demon design looks better than his regular design 
i love sir pentious so much he’s so cute
pentious and charlie are my favorites so far. i know pentious is a double agent but knowing him from the pilot/what we’ve seen in this episode i feel like he’s gonna be dumped by the vees cuz he’s a pathetic wet slop of a man 
the crackhead play joke is really funny 
angel dusts jealousy came out of.Nowhere. like i know charlie was saying like “hey you aren’t really a real resident” and he was mad about the game but it felt more like “ugh i can’t stand these people” not “ugh i wish i could be redeemed and people cared about me.” it was hinted at just not very well 
angel being lovebombed is portrayed.Fine.ly   like it’s realistic but not outstanding . it would mean more if valentino wasn’t making lighthearted jokes about how he kills and manipulates his workers 
pentious’ tail is randomly shrinking and growing 
the camera work in the fight scene is Awful 
pentious :-( 
first time in a while i have heard a show say you should kill yourself NOW 
imagine pentious immediately goes to heaven after the song /silly
final score 8/10 only because of pentious. overall episode is 7/10
episode 3 
pentious still being peak right off the bat. he gets the funniest jokes
alastor still isn’t very funny 
angel dust isn’t funny booooooo boooooooooo
vaggie centric episode? i think? idk i don’t like vaggie she’s kinda boring 
niffty is less funny than she was in previous episodes. she feels more remnant of internet “dark humor” from the time the pilot released 
okay i ended up watching the rest of this one during gym class so i didn’t have my notes. overall this episode was really good except for velvette kinda sucking . 7/10 
episode 4 
this isn’t the poison episode is it.
animation is noticeably worse
vaggies plain ass delivery of the “angel. what the fuck” line made me laugh
i thought the cold open of angel getting r worded would be a way of showing that his life is really fucked up.though it was just a joke bit which i was not expecting
pentious cowering in fear at pornography 
i really like charlie. kk said that she was one note and .i kinda agree but i still love her 
this one demon has a better design then the entire main cast 
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angels real name is anthony 😭
okay the dressing room scene . the fear in angels voice through all of it is so jarring and it keeps you invested in the scene and Val being so fuckinh disgusting and evil . how do people like this guy at all. this scene is so creepy not just cuz of val being abusive but because of how horrified Angel is and the moment he asks the bare minimum of val not hurting charlie his life is put on the line. i feel like this was treated with the weight it deserves and it clearly paints val as a villain. unfortunately it’s tainted by the fact that the writers are aroused by this shit but they do a good job of hiding it i guess. maybe this will change 
it bothers me so much that angels head keeps randomly changing in size cuz all the animation is freehand
poison. im gonna be careful and respectful on how i go about talking about this . i actually really like this song and sequence but it’s brought down so bad and made so beyond creepy and horrifying to know that the writers are into this. i like the constant parallel of angel being his porn actor persona who loves sex and his abused reality where he wants to be free. and the scene where he’s dancing in front of a screen with the foxes intercut with his assault is really uncomfortable yeah but i like how it shows that he’s turning his own abuse and exploitation into entertainment . and the line “it’s so hard to resist another gulp!” or however it goes has a nice double meaning . it’s like “ughhh i love sex how could i resist it” but also “i want to resist but im so deep into this that i can’t” . i am not a sexual assault survivor so i don’t feel properly equipped to go into depth about the representation of angels ongoing abuse but from a PURELYcinematic standpoint as someone with a passion for this stuff i feel like this song did well, but again it’s made so much worse and creepier knowing the writers who made this 
the spots under angels eyes are more eyes??.huh
sorry for the lack of notes i am just. genuinely invested in this 
BEST SONG 💥💥💥yeah maybe i knew all the words to this song before i ever watched th show what are you gonna do about it
ohhi don’t really. like the message of that song actually 🙁 it has been established that angel dusts pervertedness and desperation for drugs is not who he really is nor who he likes to be but husk telling him “hey it’s okay to be like that” and angel immediately coming around to it just feels.ehhh…..it feels like he’s taking one step forward and two steps back . i get that the message was supposed to be “embrace the bad parts of yourself! it’s okay to be a loser!” but in the context of the episode it doesn’t fit. good song in a vacuum
iiiidont really know how to feel about this. the episode was great up until loser baby which,is a song that i really like but it kinda does kill the whole episode imo. 5.5/10 unfortunate 
episode 5 
halfway through the series who cheered
adam mention. win (adam and pentious are my favorites )
i hate niffty im sorry 💔 she was better in the pilot
dude. lucifer is so fucking funny right off the bat i love this guy 
is this guy autistic he feels autistic i like him
lucifer is peak character oh my god
why is??? alastor trying to fight lucifer for charlies dad figure??? i don’t understand this guy he just does shit
this is the character norm called out for being a jewish stereotype. and god i can see it jesus 
i love and hate mimzy. she’s ehh
okay nevermind i do kinda get alastors jealousy
i cannot express how good a character lucifer is. he is the funniest part of this show so far by a LOOOONG shot 
pentious does not know what a siege is apparently. honestly fitting 
mimzy served zero purpose dawg i hope this was just an intro and she comes back at some point 
baby charlie ❤️ 
meaning-wise more than anything is the best song we’ve gotten thus far. through the episode i didnt rlly understand lucifer i just thought he was funny but now i get it! and i love it 
this episode was okay. alastor and mimzy take up way too much screen time for barely anything to happen but lucifer was an awesome character and i love him a lot . unfortunately he can’t save this episode though 6/10
episode 5
this yuri tastes like chicken salad but not the good kind 
i despise cherri 
praying that pentious has a role in this one 
white man jumpscare THATS SUPPOSED RO HE SAINY BETER
the seraphims look sick as hell
emmy and charlie have more chemistry than charlie and vaggie im losing it 
why do the angels look exactly like the demons 
saint peter is .Stupid?????
ADAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ADAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!JOY
charlie should be in heaven. she doesn’t deserve being in hell
vaggie backstory! hooray this is actually sick as hell 
how did charlie not know that vaggie was a fallen angel if she saw her in uniform ?? wouldn’t she recognize that “hey that’s the outfit angels wear” 
adam is a bitch and i love him so much 
karen joke (awful)
websters dictionary joke (not as awful)
adam struggling to think of words so he writes them down,,,,god i love him so much i know he’s a bad guy and a bad person and a bad. he’s just bad all around but i don’t care i love him so dearly he’s my favorite character i think 
niffty is better in this episode 
WATERBOARDINH 😭😭
emily i love 
“fuck yes!!!” oug or character 
i want pentious to get into heaven. please 
angel being a good father 
the delivery of “hey……….i see the club has a sex room…………” is fucking hilarious and i laughed out loud 
i have laughed more at this episode than i have the entire series pentious is so funny 
valentino. gross
angel standing up to valentino is really nice 
why doesn’t emily have a nose 
why are we having a deep song with emily as soon as we meet her???? i mean it’s technically not her song or sera’s but like. we JUST met them it doesn’t rlly make sense for them to have this big number 
yeah it’s really bothering me that emily has this big number. we barely know these people and they’re treating it like we’ve known her forever WHO IS THIS GIRL
if hell is forever then heaven must be a lie 💥💥
I CANT THID RUCKING FACE 
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i hate this episode a lot more the writing is worse 
okay. the writing is noticeably worse than the rest of the series in this episode the pacing is completely fucked. at least we get some adam content and vaggie lore but vaggie isn’t rlly a character i enjoy. however the humor is peak in this episode and pentious really carries it with his running bit. he can’t save much of the episode sadly. 4.5/10 
episode 7
the more i watch the intro i really don’t like it . it’s so boring 
pentious petting keykey 
i dont like alastor  bad character bad character whenever he’s on screen i want to kick something 
cannibal town ‼️‼️
awwwwwi love rosie. she’s like mimzy but better and more likeable 
i wanna make a cannibal oc. if i were in this version of hell i would wanna be a cannibal. this whole area makes me happy 
rosie didn’t swear ONCE in her opening scene im so proud of the writers 
i really like carmilla’s design and her stupid nsr hands 
if helluva boss is in the same universe as this one then why don’t they go through extermination ??? or is that like. an au
rosie is so cute i love her so much. 
susan is such an underwhelming name that’s so funny 
this episode is much better 
i know that this show doesn’t have the best writing but it’s honestly just a fun watch
out for love is the best number we’ve had so far 
carmilla walks around in steel ballet shoes all the time i gotta respect the woman 
rosie’s first swear came 2/3rds into the episode. new record 
i relate to charlie 
I LOVE ROSIE.SO MUCH uuhg$hd,s
charlie’s song is really nice 
the cannibals are the best part of the show. easily 
SHE GOT SUSAN 🔥🔥
vaggie getting her wings back . i love 
this is easily the best episode so far. both musical numbers were great and vaggie and charlie being apart and their stories being intercut only for them to come together at the end was amazing. cannibal town is absolutely amazing and perfect and there was a noticeably less amount of swearing. 9/10, praying that  the finale is this good too 
episode 8 (finale)
is this technically just a part 2 to episode 7 
PENTIOUS DRESSED LIKE A GENERAL.AW
i love vox he’s so goofy . i wish he appeared more 
charlie’s message is really nice i love her a lot but it was kinda ruined by niffty
cherri makes everything worse 
angel dust’s development is nice 
pentious being forced into a hetero love with cherri,,,blehh this is the most aroace guy ive ever seen 
mini more than anything reprise with charlie and vaggie is really sweet . 
ADAM 💥💥💥SICK ASS NEW OUTFIT BRO 
adam is still the best character in this show. “chill lute fuck” i adore alex brightman 
the battle outfits are cool 
alastor finally doing something helpful 
gyat DAMN adam. awooga 
vox’s stupid dance 
alastor saying nuh uh to the person trying to murder him is funny
i don’t want to kin adam but i Do. i Do he’s Awesome
while it interrupts the action vox watching and cheering as alastor nearly dies is super funny 
okay Actually dies then
i am enjoying this so much 
SIR PENTIOUS CLUTCH 💥💥
adam is the best character in the whole fuckinh show him oneshotting pentious is hilarious . i know he goes to heaven and doesn’t rlly die i think 
what happened to the angels fighting with reckless abandon??vaggie is getting her shit rocked
GET FUCKED LUTE
ewww adam is a white guy.ew put the mask back on 
lucifer and adam interaction this is just peak
why aren’t the angels going after the rest of hell once they realize that they’re screwed 
adam without the mask is fugly
HE .HE DIES ??WHAY YHE FUCK
the hotel:(
“the ultimate sacrifice” i love pentious a lot but HE DIDNT DO SHIT BRO 😭
i choose to believe that lilith divorced lucifer because lucifer was a gay man and she was a lesbian
why is cherri a main character now i dony. ew
alastor is alive ! boo
bro thinks he’s jack skeleton 
husk being mad when he sees that alastor is alive is funny 
WHAT THE FUCK 
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VOX GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HIM
sir pentious gets into heaven :) thaht makes me happy 
season finale! this was a phenomenal episode to end of a good series, though ill be real i don’t know if having a second season is a good idea. most if not all of the conflicts are resolved among the main cast. ending it off with pentious getting into heaven is amazing though. episode is a 9/10 it was funny and engaging and really fun all around.
overall score for the series is a 7.5/10 i really enjoyed it 
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b0chelly · 7 months
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Playing around with what I have for Dirt so far! Literally only three things in my body pictures are not from the thrift store or made by me, and one is just a placeholder until I make a new one (the tail which is from another costume). The horns and hooves are from fursuit makers, modified by me! I scored big time at the thrift store and got the perfect clothes all in one go, perfect colors and textures and I don’t think I really need to modify them! Nice cottage dwelling undead monster color palette
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My throat: *starts to feel achey n bad when I swallow*
Me, with an exam in two days, which I must take in person: please… babygirl don’t do this to me
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vampstel · 1 year
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WIP of my husband
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liliacamethyst · 9 months
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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)
Sequel to Web of Secrets
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.
Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.
You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”
“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.
“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.
The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.
Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.
And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.
So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.
As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.
You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.
Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”
But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.
He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.
“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.
“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”
“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.
You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.
“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.
“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.
You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.
You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.
"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.
Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.
As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.
Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.
You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.
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In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.
"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.
"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”
He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.
"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."
He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.
"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."
"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.
You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."
“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.
“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”
“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“To be forgotten,” you whisper.
He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.
Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.
Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.
He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 
Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.
 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.
But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."
"I know," he replies curtly.
Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"
“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.
There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.
Lyla, for once, remains silent.
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3 months later…
Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.
 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.
The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.
The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.
He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.
Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.
In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.
As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.
His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.
“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.
“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.
“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”
“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.
Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."
"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.
“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.
“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.
“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.
“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.
The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.
You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”
She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."
You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.
"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.
You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.
"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.
"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.
You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."
You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."
Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."
You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.
"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"
Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.
"Strange how?" you prod.
"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.
"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.
"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”
Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.
You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.
Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”
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4 months later…
Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.
“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.
“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.
Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.
“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.
“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”
You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.
You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."
Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”
“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.
“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.
“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.
You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.
Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.
As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 
“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.
Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"
Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."
“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”
With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.
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1 year later...
One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.
At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.
Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.
Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;
Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.
“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.
Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”
Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.
Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.
“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”
You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.
In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.
“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.
“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.
Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.
Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.
“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.
Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.
Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.
Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.
Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.
Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”
Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."
Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.
"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."
Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 
Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."
Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”
Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.
Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.
You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.
"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.
“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.
Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.
Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”
Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”
Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.
As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.
The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.
Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”
Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”
Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.
Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.
Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.
The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.
“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”
Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.
“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”
Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"
a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.
Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM
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frenchtwistresistance · 11 months
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Fannie’s playing dumb face as Gene’s tediously Genesplaining what a bar mitzvah is 😂
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna
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pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader
summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.
warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!
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i.
“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“
You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly. 
“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”
You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough. 
The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours. 
The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters. 
“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“
“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.
Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”
The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood. 
You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was. 
His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross. 
It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt. 
You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out. 
You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all. 
He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same. 
You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines. 
You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head. 
The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.” 
You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers. 
Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door. 
“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care. 
You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.
Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky. 
His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself. 
“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be. 
“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”
You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in. 
Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene. 
Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.
However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago. 
You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned. 
“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”
You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.
His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?” 
You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.” 
With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now. 
His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.
Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing. 
He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?” 
You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”
“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly. 
You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself. 
Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”
“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”
You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”
You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly. 
So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.
This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“
Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity. 
“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity. 
“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features. 
You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity. 
His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script. 
You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”
Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right. 
Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.
“What are you—“
“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”
You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.
But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of. 
All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?
Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.
When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth. 
However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly. 
“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”
His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”
“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”
He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side. 
“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.
“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch. 
He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.” 
Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound. 
“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.
He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.
“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”
You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction. 
“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.” 
He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.
You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides. 
You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant. 
“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”
You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you. 
“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”
You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants. 
He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.
You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes. 
You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked. 
“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”
You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch. 
“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.
“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily. 
You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan. 
You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”
With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible. 
Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock. 
“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered. 
“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding. 
“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words. 
You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background. 
Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian. 
His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure. 
The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt. 
“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”
He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace. 
With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear. 
When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy. 
“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”
“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind. 
After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity. 
He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes. 
You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?” 
He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.” 
“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly. 
He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.
You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”
Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. 
“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light. 
His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”
ii.
“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?
However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was. 
Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.
The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly.  “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.” 
You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events. 
As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”
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wickedghxst · 1 year
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I hope if matt reeves adapts cassandra cain into his universe he uses enjoy the silence (lacuna coil cover) for the movie like he used something in the way.
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smoreal · 1 year
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Also, after I get my shit together, I WILL be posting shit on my ao3 for the first time ever… I usually just posted on here or on Wattpad…
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cbini · 10 months
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skz guilty pleasures in bed
warnings: daddy kink, rimming, nipple play, kissing, dirty talk, anal play, lingerie, collars (i basically just spoiled this whole thing lmao but just to be safe!), hints of pet play & bdsm
chan - daddy kink. i am definitely not immune to chris with a daddy kink. he might try to keep this hidden (those ao3 tags about chan’s shame/guilt complex are so accurate lolll), but that would fly out the window very quickly if you were to ever bring it up to him or accidentally let it slip in bed. the first time you call him daddy he has to pull out of you to keep from cumming too quick. the floodgates will definitely open for him then. i say this is a guilty pleasure for him because he can’t help but slip up sometimes and refer to himself as daddy in bed, even if you’re not doing anything necessarily kinky. he gets kind of embarrassed over how seriously he takes the role, he just really wants to give you everything and be your protector. you’re his fuckin baby.
minho - rimming. the first time you ever rimmed him he swears he saw god. he’d always secretly wanted to try it, and once you get to know each other in bed he isn’t shy about talking it out with you. what he is shy about though, is how much he likes it. he gets loud when you put your mouth on him, but he’ll deny, deny, deny the sounds he makes to his grave. he’s obviously flexible too, so you can put that to good use. get him on his hands and knees or make him hold his knees to his chest for you. he still likes to show a little bit of charge, so if you have long hair he’ll pull it back in a ponytail with his hands and guide your head so you’re moving at the pace he prefers the best. you get to watch him stroke himself too, and what’s better than that?
changbin - nipple play. specifically you playing with his nipples. his pecs are glorious and it would be a shame for you to let that go to waste, so you don’t. sit him between your legs, his back to your chest, and go to town on them. twist, pinch, rub…make them extra puffy. get your mouth on them too, he really loves that. (look into his eyes while you do it too, it drives him crazy.) spend long enough on them and see how much his cock leaks. he wants you to try to make him cum just from nipple stimulation. even if you can’t yet, all you have to do is brush your fingers against his cock and he’s done for. pluck at his nipples when you’re riding him and let him watch your tits bounce. if you lean down to kiss him and let your nipples brush against his he’ll almost cry.
hyunjin - kissing. kissing is arguably one of hyunjin’s absolute favorite parts of sex. and i’m talking nasty, sloppy, wet kisses. don’t get me wrong, he loves kissing you slowly and sensually, but he really gets off on the desperation of a good, deep and nasty kiss. it’s his own brand of foreplay, to him nothing compares to the feeling of your lips against his while you roll around in bed and get ready for each other. he likes it so much he’ll get off to porn of just straight up kissing, but much prefers to get off to videos of you two kissing. the messier the better for him, at least during sex, wants spit dripping down your chin and wants to lick it up and have you do the same to him. everything is wet and messy, and it gives him a great excuse to get in the bath with you after. 
jisung - dirty talk. nasty, raunchy, cheesy dirty talk reeeally does it for jisung. sex is just so fun to him and saying fun things makes it even better. jisung is nasty, so expect your ears and cheeks to burn hot at his words. if anything, it might make you feel more confident in yourself to know how sexy he thinks you are if the foul shit that comes out of his mouth while you’re having sex is any indication. most of the time he just can’t keep his mouth shut so he says everything that comes to his mind because you’re making him feel that good. he enjoys sex even more when you talk dirty back to him, he really wants to know that he’s making you feel as good as you’re making him feel. he couldn’t shut up if he tried, and he wants you the same way.
felix - anal play. particularly on him. gosh, just picturing him fingering himself with his cute little fingers? yeah. for this, felix has quite the selection of toys for him (and you) to play with. beads, plugs, dildos, a kitty tail plug. it probably started one night with him alone in bed trying to have Healing Time and relieve some stress, and it progressed from there. everything you do together is good without it, but a blowjob for him is so much more intense if you tease his hole with your fingers, fucking you feels infinitely better if you put a plug in him. felix wearing a cat tail plug for you? come on, you’ve struck gold. he secretly dreams of buying one of those crazy bad dragon toys, but that’s a little too intimidating for him right now. 
seungmin - lingerie. listen seungmin loooves you in lingerie. he’s not too picky on what it is as long as you feel sexy in it, but he really likes two different styles. on one hand he likes to see you in light colors like white, soft pink, baby blue… anything that makes you look innocent and corruptable. loves you in a cute little babydoll or those silk nighties for sure. on the other hand he likes when you look slutty as all hell, like. black, dark red, navy…anything super strappy that leaves nothing to the imagination really gets him going. something that has crotchless panties?? you’re not leaving the bed all day, believe that. especially if you surprise him with something sexy under your clothes after he has a long day of practice.
jeongin - collars. he doesn’t like anything on his neck, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like something on your neck. maybe it’s something he came across while you two were experimenting together, and he hasn’t looked back since. he’ll go crazy if you tease him by wearing a choker during the day. seriously, expect to be taken to the nearest private room. he loves how sinful you look with a collar on, and if you’re really serious about each other, sooner or later he’ll have one made especially for you. with a cute little name tag engraved with whatever desired pet name he calls you and jeongin’s number on the back for shits and giggles. likes to pair your collar with a leash or attach those nipple clamp chains to it for some extra fun.
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ghostaholics · 10 months
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𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
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➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader
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➸ CHOKING: he doesn't squeeze that hard – just applies enough pressure the way you like it until that familiar glassy-eyed expression falls over your face, something lust-addled; he always uses his left arm, the one that's all tatted up, consists of intricate pieces he's collected over time until it's formed an elaborate black and white collage that’s inked into his skin – he enjoys seeing how you try to enclose two hands over the entirety of his muscled forearm but can't quite round off the circumference of it, not even trying to get him to pry his grip from your throat, but to keep him there and occasionally prompt him for a little bit more constriction if you need it (❝ Look so fuckin' good like this, don’t you love? ❞)
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➸ FAVORITE POSITIONS: anything that can get him as deep inside you as possible, bottomed-out so that he can watch you take every thick inch of him which includes, but is not limited to
(1) mating press or any other variation of it – basically an aggressive 'missionary-style' that gives him the advantage of pile-driving into you, will try to ease your legs onto his shoulders for as long as you can handle it; also likes this because he can still see your eyes roll back in between thrusts when he just grinds into your cunt for a bit while he takes a break and plays with your clit (❝ Greedy cunt's just swallowin' me whole, innit? ❞)
(2) face-down, ass-up - has to pull on your hair a little so you bring your head up to make sure your mouth's not muffled by the pillow (he needs to hear each long, drawn-out moan he can get from you every time he brushes up against that special spot inside you); very primal and powerful, allows him the opportunity to see the arch of your back like this while he's gripping onto your hips for leverage but it's also just so fucking tight and deep (❝ You can take it all, can't you, sweetheart? Yeah, that's my girl. ❞)
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➸ DIRTY TALK: typically more reserved in day-to-day conversation, had to work up to being vocal in the bedroom, which now consists of a diverse mixture of low groans, lots of swearing (fuck, shite, or whatever other word that accurately expresses everything he's feeling when he hasn't got a single coherent bloody thought at the moment), as well as any filth like
❝ Gotta stretch you out – work you open on my fingers… Y’know it’d be a shame to wreck this tight, little cunt before I’ve had my fill. ❞
❝ Can’t wait ‘til you milk every last drop of cum from my cock, love. ❞
❝ Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please.’ Let me hear you beg for it. ❞
❝ Christ, I’m gonna flood this fuckin’ cunt. ❞
❝ Do I look like I’m done? Lettin’ my cum leak out… I don’t think so sweetheart. Gotta fuck it back into you now. ❞
❝ Again – love, I'm not stopping until I get another one outta you. So be a good girl and fuckin' come for me. ❞
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➸ SPITTING: has a few places he’s fond of; will lift up his mask just above his mouth in order to make it happen
(1) in your mouth, tongue held out in anticipation – he discovers that you’ve got a thing for spit play after a particularly hungry and feverish kiss that has him starving for you, swallowing down your moans, and when he pulls away there’s sort of a wet, glossy little sheen left behind on your lips that you run your tongue over; so, you ask him if he can spit in your mouth because you feel like you need more than just a kiss – he obliges because it reminds him of his cum on your tongue after he asks you where you want him to finish sometimes
(2) on your pussy – absolutely no valid reason for this other than the fact that he really likes rubbing his spit into your cunt and watching it mix with the slickness in between your legs just to make an even bigger mess than the one that’s already there
(3) in his hand, covering his palm – uses it to coat his cock with a few passes over the length of it with his fist, a few harsh tugs at his shaft and a smear of his precum at the head; doesn't really have to because you're wet enough (still wishes he had the opportunity to get you completely fucking soaked, except the circumstances won't allow it), but he's pressed for time, knows it won't be better than the natural lubrication of your own arousal and doesn't care too much since the idea of it makes him that much harder right before he slides on home into your cunt
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➸ EATING YOU OUT: he loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, can't resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth, tongue flattening and stroking and licking its way into your cunt as you rock down, hips rolling, squirming under the iron-clad grip he's got on your thighs – craves the hot slick rushing out of you, doesn't want to waste a single drop but can't control the way your orgasm liquefies into a sticky and clear wetness that paints his lips and his chin (❝ C’mere. Gonna have you make a mess on my face. ❞ )
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➸ DACRYPHILIA: when you're wrought with overstimulation, so, so sensitive after he's ripped the first few orgasms from you – tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a stinging, burning sensation growing in your throat as you try to tamp it down until the first wayward drops of brackish water escape, rolling over your cheeks unsolicited not because the sex hurt but because it was too good and you can't sort out the knotted tangle of emotions you harbor for simon; he asks in a rough and hoarse voice if you're okay, brushes the tears away in a questioning gesture with scarred knuckles until you admit exactly what the cause is, which elicits a deep moan from him signaling that he might just give you another reason to cry
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➸ TEASING: rubs the head of his cock against the entrance of your awaiting cunt, back and forth, slowly, just so he can hear you whining impatiently for him to put it in because you hate the feeling of being empty; maybe you should ask nicely, try being polite – it might be the solution to putting an end to your misery
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The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader
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Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.
Warnings: violence, swearing, blood
Wc: 1,347
A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)
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Divider by @pommecita
"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.
Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.
"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.
He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.
"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.
He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.
"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.
Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.
At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.
Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.
From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.
You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.
He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"
He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.
"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.
"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.
Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”
~
You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.
You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.
Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.
Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.
"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.
You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.
"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.
"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.
"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.
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writtenbymoonflower · 2 months
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Hello, author-san! How are you? Could I please request some angst for the poly!marauders, where R is someone full of tattoos or piercings but is smart, a sweetheart, golden retriever coded, and Lily is their friend. Lily knows about their infatuation with the boys. Being a great friend, Lily wants to set them up, but they're a bit uncertain about R because of their tattoos. Then one night, R overhears them talking in the common room with Lily and voices out their opinions regarding R, causing R to become insecure and try to hide it. You can continue however you like! Angst with a happy ending if it's okay! 🥺
Thank you, author-san!
💀🌻
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Sorry it took so long, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, pre-relationship
cw: prejudice associated with tattoos and piercings, swearing, angst to happy ending
1.8k words (oopsie)
It was like you could hear their words on repeat as you raced up the stairs. What hurt the most is that you knew that some people would judge, but you hadn’t expected it from them. 
“I just don’t know about 'em, Lils.” James winced. “Like they seem nice, but you know about people who choose to look at that…” He trailed off. 
“I’m sure they’re not all bad.” Sirius cut in, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “But Prongs does have a point.”
“It’s just the impulsivity of it all.” Remus reasoned. “Like if you’re making rash choices like that, what else would you do.” 
That was when you left your hiding spot in the stairs and ran back to your dorm. You could hear Lily’s ‘I’m so fucking done with you being stupid’ voice as you trailed away, making you smile at the knowledge that you had such a good friend. 
But you had heard enough. They had clearly made their minds up about you. Besides, you knew your appearance was an… acquired taste, to say the least, and you couldn’t expect them to be with someone they weren’t attracted to. You didn’t think you looked that odd, but maybe your perception was skewed. No matter whose perception was more accurate, they clearly didn’t particularly like you, and it was probably best to keep your distance for now, at least until they really got to know you. 
You knew that your appearance didn’t really match your personality. People often assumed you were rude, a slacker, confrontational, or even hateful. But the opposite was true in fact. You always made good marks, you were friends with loads of people, always trying to be as open as possible. And yeah, some people were intimidated at first, but they usually warmed up very quickly. 
Apparently those three, the three you wanted the approval of the most, had not been as warm about you as you thought. 
You crawled into bed and curled into yourself, trying to get a few hours of sleep before breakfast. 
James yawned loudly, blinking his eyes rapidly to get rid of the sleepy, fuzzy film coating them. Him and his boyfriends had been up all night, getting lectured literally until the sun came up. 
He had to admit, it was for the best. All three boys had gone to bed, feeling thoroughly corrected. Even slipping into shame. 
“What the hell is wrong with you three?” Lily whisper-yelled. “James, you are the LAST person to say anything about appearances. Remember when I had to go around convincing people you hadn’t become mean after your growth spurt in fourth year? Just because you were big and scary and you hadn’t realized how you were coming across?” She scolded, before turning her head to the mouse-haired boy sitting by the fire. “And you,” She seethed. “You have no clue if her choices were ‘rash’ or not. I’ve heard plenty of rumors about your appearance, people saying similar things about you. About your ‘aggression’ just because they don’t know what’s going on with you.” She snapped her head over to Sirius, her fiery hair flipping around from the movement. “And Sirius, you’re just overcompensating because you’re jealous! You’re not fooling anyone, you would look like that in an instant if you could. You’re just too scared to do it.”
Sirius played with his thumbs, not able to dispute the accusations. None of the boys could actually. Lily could tell, she was satisfied with her work. 
“I love you three buggers,” She pressed a friendly kiss to each of their cheeks as she stormed upstairs. “You just need to stop being such idiots.” 
Sirius didn’t think anyone could change personalities that fast, but it seemed all three boys had woken up different people. That morning they had all just nodded to each other, acknowledging that their opinions were very different than they had been 24 hours ago and all walked shamefacedly down to breakfast. Sirius kept pushing his eggs around his plate, too busy staring at you to take a bite. You looked a lot different today. Your hair was ruffled in front of your face, hiding the metal glinting on your nose and eyebrow. You also had long sleeves and pants on, covering the ink detailing your skin. You still hadn’t waved at them, or even acknowledged the boys’ existence. Usually, you would be bouncing over to them, talking about the weather or whatever was on your mind at the moment. Sirius missed it if he was honest with himself. He was disappointed, he had been excited to show you his outfit. He crafted it with you in mind, teasing his hair up extra and being a bit more outlandish with his top, even stealing Marlene’s varnish to paint his nails. 
Remus missed your interest in the latest book he had read. You always had so many interesting questions and you listened so intently. He missed how you played with the hoop in your septum as you nodded along to his plot summaries. You were always so patient and careful, it made his heart crack. 
James was equally distraught. He had always prided himself on being open and friends with everyone, and he had considered you his friend, which just made him feel worse. He knew that stereotyping people never led to anything good, especially when someone's personality was completely ignored and replaced with caricature. Yes, you did look intimidating, but he actually liked it. It accentuated how soft your personality actually was. You were like a big dog that everyone was terrified of, but in reality was scared of butterflies and just wanted to love everyone. He laughed sadly, catching the other two boys' attention as he stared longingly at you. All he wanted to do was go over there, but you were completely ignoring them, so he figured it was best to just not bother you and continue on with his breakfast. 
You were being equally as forlorn, continually sneaking glances over at the boys. They looked quiet and tired, but no less handsome. You felt sick, moving to leave your breakfast and all but run to the library. You needed to study anyway, you had become so infatuated that you were ignoring your classes. You had barely made it down the corridor before you heard three sets of panicked footsteps, quickly catching up to you. You tried to walk faster, but unfortunately Remus had very long legs and he briskly made it in front of you, trapping you in. He was looking flushed, amber eyes focusing on you way too much for comfort. 
“Y/N,” He sounded out of breath. You fixed your face down and back, away from their gaze. You stopping had allowed the other two the opportunity to catch up, and soon you were face-to-face with all three of the people who apparently disliked you, but to your dismay, you were still completely attached to. 
“You guys okay?” You asked, as kindly as ever but far quieter than they were used to. 
“We’re fine, lovely.” James said, confused. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” You muttered, shifting your feet. 
“Babe,” Sirius scoffed. Your heart jumped at the honorific, but you quickly scolded yourself. Sirius just called everyone that. You had heard what he, what all three of them had said last night. “You ran from there like bat outta’ hell.” He said like you were being ridiculous.
“And you haven’t spoken to us all day.” Remus cut in before you could respond. 
“It’s only seven.” You mumbled.
“Still odd.” James quipped, moving ever so slightly closer to you. “You’re not okay.” He said, with enough finality that you gave up the act all together. They really weren’t going to make this easy on you. They said all those things last night, but they were still going to put you through the misery of having to listen to them say all those things directly to you. 
You sighed dejectedly, starting to pick your nails. “Look okay,” You tore the words from the back of your throat. “I know that you don’t like me or don’t think I’m nice or whatever. You don’t have to talk to me, it’s okay.” You did your best to give them a reassuring smile, even managing for water to stay out of your eyes, but their expressions didn’t make it easy. Sirius cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose, James looked like a kicked puppy, and Remus was hiding his eyes from you. You started to walk away, but you were blocked in.
“Shit, you heard last night?” Sirius winced. You nodded painfully, looking back down at your shoes. The silent tension was so thick you felt it suffocating you. James was the first to do anything, wordlessly striding over to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. You stumbled from the shock, easing into him accidentally, but you made no moves to tense away. You limply wrapped your arms around his waist. 
“I’m so sorry, angel.” He said, panicked. “I was so stupid, I- I never should’ve said it I don’t know what I was even thinking.” He pulled you tighter to him, enough that you were worried of your feet leaving the ground. 
“I’m sorry too.” Sirius said, much more morosely than usual. “Never should’ve said those things, and you never should've heard it either.” 
“We’re all sorry.” Remus said firmly. “We all know better, we should’ve known not to think that way. It’s awfully closed-minded. You’re our friend, we should’ve acted like it.” 
“It’s okay.” You squeezed out. 
“No.” Sirius said sharply. “It’s not okay. I don’t know if you heard what Lily said back, but she pointed out a lot of things, and I can promise that we don’t think that way anymore.” 
“Please, please forgive us, baby. We were so wrong. You’re so kind and smart and funny and gorgeous an-” James was rambling on and on. 
“Jamie, it’s okay. I know you’re sorry.” You giggled at his panicked tone. “Can you uh- you’re kinda crushing me.” 
“Shit! Sorry.” He released you quickly, but not before slicking your hair out of your face. You just laughed, feeling ten times lighter. 
“We’re okay.” You reassured. “I forgive you all, it hurt, but it seems like you are all beating yourselves up enough.”
“Jus’ feel bad.” Remus grabbed you unexpectedly, tugging you into his arms. He wasn’t squeezing you like James, but rather greedily absorbing your touch. This felt like a big deal, you almost never saw Remus hold anyone. 
“Don’t feel bad.” You pleaded. “Everything’s fine now.” You rubbed his back in a way you hoped was soothing. You felt him relax in your arms. 
“Okay stop hogging them.” Sirius tugged Remus out of the way, making him grunt in dissatisfaction. (You pretended to not notice the sneaky kiss Sirius pressed to the taller boy’s knuckles.) “It’s my turn.” He grabbed you with loving aggression. 
“I wasn’t hogging.” Remus quipped. 
“Yeah, you were.” Sirius sassed. “Besides, I was the biggest idiot. I need to give the biggest cwtch.” His reasoning was flawed, but you settled into him nonetheless. 
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gr1mstar · 2 months
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heyyy I love love love your L&DS writings omg you're one of the few who actually write accurate character personality (literally few writers Ik for L&DS)
May I request how will they react if reader/mc is jealous on someone. Dying for the reaction of Rafayel!!! Thank youuuuu lovie💕
JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY…
notes: i’m sorry for the wait but this week was hell for me :) but now i’m back. i hope you like it! And thank you for your kind words.
contains: love and deepspace boys x reader, jealous reader, fluff, established relationship
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ZAYNE
he knows the face when he sees it. he knows right away that something was off, but knowing you he didn’t say anything.
zayne didn’t understand why you were jealous of his patient. it was a patient, someone who needed his help and probably would not see again after they were treated.
when he saw that you didn’t say anything all day, he decided to talk with you. sitting on the couch with hot chocolate in hand you looked at his eyes, face red.
“why why?” you asked, trying to change the subject, to shy to speak your mind.
“why are you making that face? you did that all day. tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
you didn’t want to talk about it, putting your head between his shoulder and neck, sighing slowly, “i have to?”.
and so you told him what happened. how his patient was looking loving at him and how they tried to touch his forearm. how sexy he looked in his coat and glasses and how you were jealous that he didn’t pay attention to you.
“dummy. you know i only care about you.”
“i love you.”
XAVIER
he knew something was off when you refused to play with his hair, but he didn’t know what. let’s say… you were angry at him for a few days.
why? at first you were jealous at his partener. after some time working together, you decided that was the best to have different partners just to be able to concentrate.
“did something happened?” he asked, now sitting on the bed, looking at your figure.
“no” was your answer, not looking away from your phone. you knew it was not fair to be angry at him, but you could not just pretend nothing happened.
“don’t ‘no’ me. something happened, but what?”
so you told him in detail what bothered you and what he did, even though it was not his fault.
“so… are we good now?” he asked, hand on you cheek, looking into your eyes.
“no. i’m still upset.”
“oh come on, babe. i promise it’s not going to happen again, ok? just… kiss me. i missed you.” he complained, blue eyes looking for your lips.
“it’s your partner, xavier. of course it’s going to happen again.”
“who says i’m going to have a partner from now on?”
“xavier!”
RAFAYEL
he knew you were jealous, but he secretly enjoyed it, and so he did nothing.
he liked to see you all red and flustered, and because you did not say anything he continued, curious about how much you can stay that way.
it did not take long before you confronted him, wanting to have a serious conversation about his behaviour.
“what? but i didn’t do anything wrong” he told you, hands in his pockets.
he was stubborn, he knew that you were his weekends and wanted to tease you just a little bit.
“rafayel. i swear, you are going to sleep with the cat if you are not serious for at least 10 minutes”
and so he conformed, being to afraid to have you not sleeping with him at night and sleeping with that… monster instead.
“ok. ok. maybe i was doing it in purpose.”
after a kiss and a tight hug, you were defeated. he knew he was adorable and you couldn’t resist his charms, so he used it against you.
“ok fine. you win this time. but i’m still upset.”
“i know love. i’m sorry. i promise i’m not going to do that again. so now come here, i need you kisses or i might die!”
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© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
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mnwrld · 1 month
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do you still hate valentine's day? | yang jeongin x fem ! reader
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ANGST & FLUFF & SMUT & BEST FRIEND ! JEONGIN & FEM ! READER & MORE UNDER THE CUT ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
valentine’s day is kind of dreary when you’ve been in love with your best friend for years. it’s even worse when said best friend goes on a date with another girl. 
warnings. swearing, love confessions, lots of kissing, slight dry humping (?), penetrative (p in v) sex, protected sex, fingering (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, slight possessiveness, cumming together, sweet aftercare, smut w very little plot
word count. 3.9k words
note. i haven't written like... just smut in a while so hopefully this is okay </3 happy valentine's day everyone !! enjoy my little gift to you <3
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Your throat burned and your lungs ached as you willed tears away. You were determined not to cry. You refused to. And still, as you watched your best friend walk hand in hand with a girl who wasn’t you, you cried. You held yourself together as long as you could, but it was in vain. Bit by bit, broken pieces of your heart drifted away, just out of reach, and you couldn’t seem to grab them back. Your stomach was a mess of knotted feelings. Anger? Not quite. Jealousy was probably more accurate. 
You couldn’t understand what you’d been doing wrong. You were the one who was there for him all these years. You’d thought your feelings were obvious. Maybe they were and he just didn’t care. And of course, you knew you couldn’t make him feel the same way for you as you did for him. Still, the rejection burned. You felt invisible. Were you a ghost? A figment of some poor soul’s imagination? 
But when he showed up on your doorstep after his date, grin spread wide across his perfect face, you knew you were real. The pain was evidence enough. 
“Hey!” 
You stepped aside, letting him into your apartment. “Hi, Jeongin.” 
Jeongin turned to you, frowning a little. It wasn’t very often that you called him “Jeongin.” You usually only used his name like that when you were upset with him. He was too used to the nicknames you’d always called him that it was a clear sign something was wrong when you called him by his name. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, hoping he would just drop it. You sat back down on your couch, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders and unpausing the movie you’d put on. 
“Hey, come on,” he pouted, sitting next to you and placing his backpack on the floor in front of him. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Cheer up!” 
You’d tried so hard to be optimistic. Sometimes when he looked at you or spoke to you, you could almost imagine that he liked you. But a second later, it was back to “just friends.” Did he think you were a foolish child? Maybe you were. Foolish to think he’d ever have his eyes on you. It would never be more than just a dream you rarely dared to dream. 
“You know I don’t really like Valentine’s Day, Innie,” you mumbled, trying not to let the tears that had pooled in your eyes spill over. 
You heard him digging around in his backpack but you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at him. He sat up again and leaned into you. “Well, I got you something anyways. I knew you’d just be sitting here alone, so I wanted to do something for you.” 
You looked over at him finally, eyes widening at the things he held in his hands. A small box of chocolates. Your favorite flowers—the ones that grew in his family’s garden. And a stuffed animal you’d told him you wanted months ago. Moments like these, it was hard to believe he didn’t have feelings for you. Considering he just went on a date, however, you knew that he didn’t.
“Innie, you didn’t have to.”
“I know,” he smiled at you, pushing the items towards you. “But I wanted to. You deserve something nice on Valentine’s Day, even if you don’t particularly like the day.” 
A voice in your head was screaming at you to get out before it was too late. The voice told you it was time to give up. The voice told you to make him leave. The voice told your heart to stop beating so fast when his fingers brushed over yours. You wanted nothing more than to listen to the voice in your head. You wanted to get out before it was too late, wanted your heart to stop beating so fast when he said your name. And yet, you couldn’t let go. Having these quiet, painful moments with him were better than none at all. 
“Well, thanks Innie.” 
He grinned and nodded in response. After a few minutes of silence, Jeongin started to tell you about his date and the girl he’d been with. You tried to pay attention. Tried to listen. Tried to be supportive. But you couldn’t stop the insecurities that ebbed into your stream of thoughts—couldn’t stop the jealousy. Of course he wanted her. She was beautiful and funny and smart and she wasn’t like a sister to him.
“She sounds great, Innie.” 
“She was cool, yeah.” Jeongin looked like a giddy little kid in a candy store. But the happiness left his eyes when he looked at you, trying to hold back your tears (and failing miserably). “Hey, don’t worry! We’ll find you someone too!”
But you didn’t want just anybody. You wanted Jeongin. He could never be yours, but you wanted him. Of course, you couldn’t tell him that. So you just offered him a weak smile and nodded a little before fixing your eyes forward on the TV again, ignoring the burning in your throat and the painful beating of your heart. 
Another friend of yours had told you to stop pining after Jeongin. If it was that easy, you would have already done it by now. You wish you could listen to the voice inside of you that warned you not to chase after people who didn’t want you. You wished you could listen to your friends when they told you to save your energy for people who would willingly invest their time into you. But it wasn’t that simple. Not when Jeongin unintentionally gave you hope with every gummy smile, every brush of his hand against yours, every kind action and word. 
Since you couldn’t give up on him, you would just smile and say that you were fine if anyone asked how you were doing. You didn’t think anyone would understand if you told them it felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You didn’t think you could say that the only person you wanted was the only person you couldn’t have. You couldn’t explain that it was that very person who had ripped out your heart and who held it in their hands. 
You wanted to scream at him. If you’re going to be with someone else, just stop giving me false hope! But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t even know you liked him. And you wanted it to stay that way. So you kept your mouth shut tight. You couldn’t let this secret slip past your chapped lips. 
“Do you want me to stay the night?” 
Jeongin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Did you want him to stay the night? Would that even be a good idea? It would just be another contributor to the hope you couldn’t harbor. But he was your best friend and you’d had plenty of sleepovers before. If you said no would it be suspicious?
“Sure, if you want to.” 
He smiled and nodded. “Do you still have some of my clothes in your closet? I want to wear something more comfortable.” 
“Yeah, there should be some sweatpants and t-shirts in my closet that are yours.” 
When Jeongin left your side you allowed yourself to think again. You thought about what it might be like if he loved you. You thought about him and his perfect smile and his perfect hands and all the ways he made you laugh. You thought about how he knew you better than anyone else did. Jeongin… You pushed it away. You had to stop.
He walked back into the living room and sat beside you once more, closer this time. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling the blanket over his body and yours. And it was like a dam broke. The only thing in your mind was his name. 
Jeongin. Jeongin. Jeongin. Jeongin. 
“You’ve been quiet all night. What are you thinking about?” 
You.
“How shitty this holiday is.” 
He laughed softly and brushed your hair away from your face. You didn’t look at him as he spoke. “You only say that because you’ve always been single on Valentine’s Day.” 
“Maybe.” You fell quiet again. Was he right? Did you hate Valentine’s Day because it was a stupid capitalist holiday that made money off of people’s love? Or did you hate Valentine’s Day because you’d never had someone special to spend it with? 
“Seriously though,” he turned you over in his arms so that you were looking him in the eye. “What’s got you so sad? I know you hate today, but I’ve never seen you so sad.” 
Today is the first Valentine’s Day that you had a date for. Why couldn’t it be me?
“It’s nothing, Innie, I promise. I’m just feeling more tired than usual.” 
“See, if I didn’t know you, I might buy that. But I know you. Better than anyone. Better than myself. You know you can tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was gentle, but it didn’t make you feel better. 
I can’t tell you. You’re the only person I can’t tell. 
“It’s really nothing. I promise.” 
“Pinky promise?” 
He held out his pinky and you looped yours through his nodding and smiling at him. You would never tell him what was really wrong. You would never risk your perfect friendship over something like this. You could suffer through this as long as it meant you could keep him in your life. 
Jeongin sighed and kissed your forehead, suddenly looking anxious. “Can I tell you a secret, yn?” 
“Of course you can,” you breathed back, trying to calm your racing heart. 
“I didn’t want to go on that date tonight.” He was quiet for a long moment, but you had the feeling he wasn’t done yet, so you stayed quiet. After another long moment, he sighed again. “I just wanted to stay with you and watch a shitty movie and eat shitty convenience store snacks and tell you those shitty pick-up lines you hate so much. It wasn’t the same without you.”
“Jeongin, I—”
“I think that… I think maybe I’m in love with you.” 
You breathed in sharply and pushed away from him, panicked. Wasn’t this what you’d always wanted to hear? But what if he didn’t mean it. What if it was a lie? What if it was a prank or a dare? What if it didn’t mean what you thought it meant. “D-don’t say that—”
“Maybe I’m stupid for falling for my best friend,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You can hate me in the morning. But can I at least have tonight with you?” 
You whimpered as he buried his face in your neck, wanting nothing more than to spend the night with him. You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. They spilled over your cheeks and you tried to keep your body from shaking so he wouldn’t notice. 
“I’ll never hate you, Innie. But I don’t know if this is a good idea.” 
He looked up at you, his own eyes filled with tears. “Why not?”
“You don’t mean it.” 
“What do you mean? Y-you think I don’t mean that I love you? That I’m in love with you?” He sat up quickly, pulling you with him so that you were seated in his lap. He grabbed your hands, fear playing in his eyes. 
“I-I mean, how could you? This is coming completely out of the blue and you just went on a date with someone else—”
“I love you.” He stopped you, eyes big and sad as he ran his thumbs over your knuckles absentmindedly. “I love you so much. And I’ve been in love with you for, like, three years now. I just never knew how to say it. And honestly, I didn’t think you’d love me back. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. And then this year, when that girl asked me to go on a date with her for Valentine’s Day, I didn’t know how to say ‘no’ and I figured you didn’t like me anyway, so I should just try to move on. But then I came back here after the date and I knew I couldn’t be with anyone who wasn’t you so I—”
“Jeongin, breathe.” You stopped him with a hand on his chest, placed carefully over his heart. You could feel how fast his heart was beating and you knew yours was beating just as fast. 
He placed a hand over your heart too and took a deep breath. You felt his chest expanding beneath your fingers. “I love you. I know that I do. And I know it’s not just as a friend. I’m in love with you.” 
Really, this was the best outcome you could have hoped for, but you were still wary. If you admitted you felt the same and he eventually broke your heart, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to put the pieces back together. Then again, if he was being genuine and you let him think you didn’t feel the same, it would break his heart, and that almost hurt more. 
“Jeongin, I love you but I’m terrified.” 
“Why are you scared?” He leaned in, forehead against your shoulder as he breathed out in relief. “It’s just me.” 
“That’s exactly it though. It’s you. And you’re perfect. You’re funny and smart and kind and so handsome and you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m so scared that I won’t be what you’re imagining.” 
He laughed again and looked up at you, his head still against your shoulder. “I’m not imagining anything. I know you. Did you forget the part where we’ve been best friends pretty much our whole lives? There’s practically nothing about you that I don’t know. And there’s certainly nothing about you that I don’t love.” 
“Whatever,” you scoffed, pushing him off of you playfully. “That’s definitely a lie because just yesterday you told me that it was annoying when I—”
“Sure there are things that annoy me sometimes. I’m sure I’m annoying too. But those are habits and quirks that are a part of you. And I love all of you. So even if it’s annoying, I love it. Because I love you.” 
“Jeongin,” you whispered, suddenly serious. 
“What?” 
“I want you to kiss me.” 
He wasted no time pressing his lips to yours. It was everything you’d hoped for—dreamed about. Of course he was a good kisser. Of course his mouth on yours was perfect. Of course it felt like he was made for you. You felt giddy and restless and you pushed him away—only for a second, only so you could breathe. 
“Jeongin,” you whispered against his lips. Not for any particular reason. You just wanted to say his name. Wanted him to hear it. You hoped he could hear how desperate he made you. How much you wanted him. 
He pulled away further and you pouted. He shook his head. “I-I can’t—I mean, if we don’t stop now, I don’t—I don’t think I can stop myself from wanting more.” 
Oh. Your sweet boy. Could you even call him yours? It didn’t matter. He was so sweet and thoughtful. 
But you didn’t care about sweet. You’d been dreaming about him for years and you were feeling a little insatiable and you needed him. You pulled him back to you and kissed him. He kissed back, of course he did. His hands fell to your hips and he held you still on his lap. 
“Yn,” he gasped your name and you felt lightheaded. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me. Sh-shit, do you want this? I don’t—don’t wanna force you—fuck—” 
You rolled your hips against his, biting back a whimper as you felt him hardening beneath you. You wanted to know what he would feel like inside of you. Jeongin didn’t exactly sleep around, but he was well-known as a good fuck. And wouldn’t it be even better since the two of you were in love? You wanted him so badly.
“God, yes, Jeongin—I-I want you. Want this. Please.” Your voice felt airy and choked and you knew you sounded absolutely fucked and he hadn’t even done anything. You didn’t care. You’d wanted this for so long and Jeongin wouldn’t judge you for wanting him. Because he wanted you too. At least, that’s what he said.
He nodded and his hips bucked up into yours. He threw his head back against the couch, a light moan falling from his lips. He sounded so hot. “Fuck, okay—o-okay. Do you—can we—I don’t want our first time to be on your fucking couch, can we go back to your room?” 
“Please—”
He pushed you gently and you crawled off of him. He led you back to your room, kissing your hands. “C’mon baby, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.” 
When you made it to your bedroom, you settled into your bed and he followed you, hovering slightly over you so he didn't crush you beneath him. You reached up, threading your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him into another bruising kiss, desperate for more of him. All of him. You’d wanted him so badly for so long. 
He slid his tongue into your mouth when you groaned softly, and you let him, eager for him in a way you didn’t realize you could be. He ground his hips down into yours, moaning lowly as he tried to resist, but you just made it so difficult for him. You dragged your hands down from the back of his neck, over his chest, stopping at the hem of his sweatpants. He pulled away from you to watch as you pulled them down his legs.
He sat up and tugged his t-shirt over his head before leaning down to kiss you again, nipping at your lips softly. You pushed him away slightly, guiding his hand into your shorts to feel in between your legs. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, you’re so wet already—” 
“For you—” 
“Shit.”
He pulled your shorts down and reached for your shirt, asking you silently if you wanted it off. You answered him by grabbing the hem and taking it off yourself. He groaned again at the sight of you, braless before him, moving quickly to kiss your neck and your shoulders and your collarbones before finally stopping to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking perfectly. You whined as he mouthed at your skin, groping your other tit with a skilled hand. He eventually moved to give the same attention to your other nipple, showing you so much care you felt like you might explode.
You’d always wondered what sex with Jeongin would be like. You hadn’t imagined it would ever be this good.
"J-Jeongin," you moaned, "I need you so bad."
 "Gotta stretch you out first,” he murmured, reaching to pull your panties off too and leave you completely bare before him. “Get you nice and ready for my cock. Don't wanna hurt you, baby."
You gasped as two of his perfect fingers pushed their way slowly into your entrance, sliding in easily because of how wet you already were. He wasted no time pumping them in and out of you and scissoring you open, trying to stretch you as much as possible to make it easier to take his dick. He added a third finger for extra measure and you felt like you were on cloud nine. You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pumping into you again.
"Don't wanna cum yet, Innie. Wanna make this last. I-I love you so much."
His heart swelled at the sweet nickname and your profession of love and he kissed you chastely on the lips, slipping his boxers down and grabbing a condom from the top drawer of the bedside table when you opened it. You giggled as he rolled it onto his length and he eyed you warily, pouting a little. "Why are you laughing at me?"
"It's just cute that you’re so eager for me. I guess you have wanted me for a long time."
“Oh, shut up. You have no idea. O-Of course I’m desperate for you. You’re my best friend, I love you so fucking much, and you’re hot as fuck.” He rolled his eyes before positioning his tip at your entrance. His dark eyes connected with yours, once more asking for permission and you nodded. You were just as eager to know how he would feel inside of you. 
He took a deep breath and slowly pushed in, hissing at the feeling of your tight walls around his dick. You moaned at the stretch, eyes rolling back in your head as he fully sheathed himself inside of you, pumping in and out slowly to give you time to adjust. “Oh my god, you’re fucking perfect. Holy fuck.”
"You can go f-faster, Innie," you whined, reaching up to grip his shoulders tightly and pull him closer to you.
He grabbed one of your legs, carefully throwing it over his shoulder so he could pump his cock in deeper. You moaned loudly as his tip nudged against your g-spot with each thrust, borderline screaming as he increased the pacing of his hips. He was so perfect. 
“F-feels so good, Innie."
"Yeah? You like that? Fuck, you're so tight, yn. Love it so much. You take my dick so well. Like you were made for me to fuck you. Made for me," he gasped in response. Your brain was fuzzy and you moaned at his words, feeling yourself drawing closer and closer to your high. All you’d ever wanted was to be his.
You squeezed your eyes shut tight as he continued to ram into you, “So close, Innie. I'm s-so close. Gonna cum."
"Fuck, baby, me too. Wanna cum with you. Just a little longer." He continued thrusting rhythmically, holding you as close to him as possible as he thrusted as deep as he could. "You're doing so good for me, baby. So so good. My good girl."
You moaned loudly, clenching around his dick as he thrusted particularly hard, sending you over the edge. You clung to him as he helped you ride out your high, spilling his seed into the condom moments later. He rolled off of you, pulling the condom off and tying the end. He crawled out of your bed to discard the condom and get a washcloth to clean you up. You pouted as he left.
He came back only a few minutes later with a glass of water, a warm washcloth, and fresh clothes for you to wear. He laid back down beside you, cleaning you up gently with the washcloth and setting the clean clothes on the bed beside you. He offered you the glass of water and you drank it all, handing back the empty glass. Only then did he wrap you in his arms again, holding you close to his chest. 
“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. 
You smiled up at him. “I’ll be sore in the morning but it’s worth it. Thank you. For tonight. For everything.” 
“You don’t have to thank me,” he shook his head, eyes falling shut. “I love you. Like, a lot. I’m really glad we… did this. And I’m really glad you love me back.” 
“Me too.”
After a long moment of silence, Jeongin spoke again. “So, do you still hate Valentine’s Day?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh. The answer was pretty obvious. Of course you didn’t hate Valentine’s Day anymore. Not when you finally had everything you’d ever wanted. 
────────────────────────────
i hope you all enjoyed 'do you still hate valentine's day?' and are looking forward to more of my future works. if you enjoyed this and would like to be added to my permanent taglist, please fill out the taglist form here !
© mnwrld 2024
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star-girl69 · 3 months
Text
Music To Watch Girls To
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!
a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!
Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey
warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.
It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.
She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.
Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.
They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.
Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.
And it became a tradition.
You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.
The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.
After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.
“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”
“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.
“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”
Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.
“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”
She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.
“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”
“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”
“I’ll punch you.”
“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”
She glares at you.
Matty coughs to hide a laugh.
“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”
“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.
“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.
You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.
—-
Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.
You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.
It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.
She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.
“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.
“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.
“Well, I’m scared.”
He looks at you and frowns.
“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”
You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”
He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.
“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”
He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.
You stick out your hand and he grabs it.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”
“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”
Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.
“You’re no fun,” you pout.
“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”
“I need a dagger.”
“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”
“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”
She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”
She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.
But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.
“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”
She hesitates for a second.
“Keep it.”
You look at her. “I can give it back.”
“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”
“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.
—-
Your position on capture the flag is always the same.
Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.
The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.
It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.
After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.
“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”
“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”
Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.
There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.
“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”
“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.
Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
—-
The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.
You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.
Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.
It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.
You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?
When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.
“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”
You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.
Clarisse turns around.
“Stop. Worrying.”
You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”
She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.
“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.
They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.
She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.
“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”
“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”
She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.
“D-don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”
You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.
“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”
“Who’s a baby.”
“-attacked us last night.”
You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”
She doesn’t answer that.
“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”
“Why?”
“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”
“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”
“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”
She smiles, looking at you.
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.
—-
The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.
“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”
You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”
She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”
“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.
“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”
You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.
You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.
True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.
Her spear sinks into the dirt.
“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”
“We know.”
You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.
“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”
She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.
She laughs a bit.
He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.
“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”
His stance isn’t even close to correct.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”
Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.
She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.
But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.
She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.
“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”
The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.
“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”
Percy grunts and takes off running.
“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.
“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.
Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.
“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.
She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.
Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.
You draw your bow again, out of habit.
The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.
You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.
She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.
They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.
But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.
But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.
You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.
Her face twists into something else.
“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.
He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.
It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.
They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.
Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?
Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”
“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.
You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.
“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.
You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”
He looks between you and Clarisse.
“O-okay,” he breathes.
You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.
But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.
It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.
Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.
Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.
You were stupid to think she ever did.
But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.
You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.
You mouth her name.
Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.
Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.
Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.
Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.
You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.
You all turn around.
The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.
Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.
She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.
—-
The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.
Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.
Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.
Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.
She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.
Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.
You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.
“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.
“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”
She hums.
“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”
You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.
Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.
Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.
“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.
You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”
“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.
“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”
She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”
“No, thanks, it’s fine.”
“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”
Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.
If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.
“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.
Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.
“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”
“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.
“Then what’s it about?”
You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.
“What’s it about, Y/N?”
She holds your hand to her chest.
You both know what it’s about.
“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”
She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.
“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”
She grips you tighter again.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”
Your breath is a little shaky again.
“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”
“For you.”
“What?”
“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”
You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.
“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”
Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.
“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”
“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”
She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.
You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.
She pulls back and smiles.
“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”
“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.
There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.
Fuck.
—-
clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️
—-
y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP
—-
clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING
y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP
—-
clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE
—-
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