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#sometimes I simply have this need to draw them
pixelchills · 21 hours
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Chill's ramblings about the DCA fandom and personal feelings and issues towards TSAMS (both positive an negative):
(I'm writing this like an essay but treating it like a diary, so if I jump from subject to another, it is because I am just typing as the thoughts hit my head. Sorry for being so wordy.)
I simply feel like I need to write my thoughts down, so why not share them with you. Maybe you can validate my feelings or something, I don't know.
Intro:
So, oof, I got a fic rec from @thedenofravenpuff and I'm loving it so much I really wanna draw fan art for it...
But the problem is that it's a TSAMS fanfic and I've sworn to my name I'll never draw anything related to the show because that will make me engage with a part of the fandom I'm not comfortable with.
My biggest issue with TSAMS:
I have such complicated feelings towards the show and its fanbase and I do not wish to make my life and work more difficult because of it as it already is.
My own work and characters are already constantly being compared to TSAMS. When I first introduced Solar to my fic, he was constantly being referred to Eclipse from TSAMS. Now that the show had a character with THE SAME NAME, it has been even worse.
Dolldrop Moon has been compared to Lunar. Even though the dolldrops existed before the youtube channel was even created (and Lunar made his debut much later).
The biggest issue I've had has always been the fanbase, that takes the show as the canon for Sun and Moon from FNAF and uses it as an excuse to harass shippers like me because they think Sun and Moon are brothers.
I've first handedly seen the damage the fanbase has done to some of my friends who draw, or have previously drawn art for the show besides their own AUs and personal headcanons of Sun and Moon as lovers. I'm sorry to tag you, but @kriimhild and @fablekitty : I've seen how the immature side of the show's fans have treated you, I am so terribly sorry you've had to defend yourselves over and over again for things that were not meant to be mixed up.
I have posted some ideas of a possible Animutant Moon and Sun forming a polyamorous relationship with Solar in the future of "My Dear Daffodil" on my personal/adult Twitter account. Someone kept commenting on my posts that I was glorifying incest, because Sun and Moon were brothers and Solar was their cousin.
The post had "Animutant" in it. Not "TSAMS". These comments came from a person saying they were 19 in their profile. So it's not just kids who can't tell not every fanwork is about TSAMS. It's starting to be some adults too.
Vice versa I've had another person comment on my very clearly SFW Twitter how they're following me because I am an adult artist who draws TSAMS incest. I have never drawn TSAMS art. I ship Sun and Moon, but they're never related with family bond, because I love presenting them as lovers.
Why I ship Sun and Moon:
Because I am a hopeless romantic. I love romantic love. Every single story I write is always about love.
The only exception to this is the Poppy Playtime comic I am doing. But even then, I was originally planning for a romantic love between Dogday and the Player. Yet, I decided to leave it, and keep the relationship open for any type of representation the reader themselves will prefer.
I used to watch The Sun and Moon Show when it first started airing. I loved their playthroughs. I had a big distaste for them calling each other brothers, as well as some of the first "lore" videos they had. My biggest issue at the time was how Moon treated Sun, though. As someone who grew up with an abusive sibling, it sometimes just hit a bit too hard at home.
But it got better after Eclipse and Lunar appeared. Moon was more caring, and I started to really like his character development. There was one episode where Sun explained to Lunar that he and Moon had simply just "decided" to be brothers, despite not having a canonical relationship.
This actually made me really happy. Because the Old Moon was aroace, the love he felt was simply never meant to be romantic, but platonic. And by making Sun his brother by choice clearly indicated that Sun was always the one he loved the most - in a way that was suitable for aromantic person like him.
And it really made me enjoy the show for a while. Sun is my favourite character, and despite not always liking the way the show presents him, I always feel so much love for him, no matter the AU he is in. So I loved that Moon loved him more than anything, even if it was just platonic. Because I've always been under the impression that the canon Moon loves Sun, and is only under a virus to protect him. For me, the best part of any Sun and Moon AU is to know that Sun is the most important thing to Moon.
Why I stopped watching TSAMS:
And then that Moon I had really started to like, who loved Sun more than anyone else but just platonically, died.
It hurt so much I simply stopped watching the show. I've watched a few episodes here and there after that, but I am having a hard time liking the show the same as I did before.
Partially it's because of the fanbase. Partially it's because I don't find the lore very interesting and some of the stuff a bit repetitive. Partially it's because I am scared to see Sun eventually crumble up into madness, because he has been through so much.
I like the New Moon. He is funny and nice, what I've seen. His relationship with Solar has been interesting, and I genuinely hoped they would've been able to take the romantic route after Moon said he wasn't sure if he was aroace anymore. But as I said, I've only watched a few episodes after the old Moon died, so I don't know either of their characters that much to form any strong opinions about them. I just listen to the Monty and Puppet podcast once in a while and get a little inside to some of the lore that has been happening.
But hey, at least there's fanfics. Which is why I am rambling here today.
Fanfics:
It is a rare treat to find Sun x Moon fanfics that aren't simply just porn, or do not include reader inserts. So since my romance-filled brain needed something to fill the void, I've started reading some TSAMS fics with romance (that wasn't between Sun & Moon) and plot in them.
I know Solar was settled to be a "cousin" to the weird family tree of TSAMS. But I simply crave for Solar and New Moon to be at least queerplatonic. Solar is not from their dimension, no matter how much they decide they're 'cousins' it doesn't make him their real cousin or relative because they're not from the same world.
Sun and Moon are brothers but they technically gave birth to Eclipse, who then created Lunar so Eclipse is technically Lunar's parent and then brother and Lunar is Sun and Moon's brother and... do you see what I'm trying to say?
The family tree is so complicated that I don't think I'm a horrible person for shipping Moon and Solar and reading fics about them. Tell me if I am wrong though.
The FIC that is making me question everything:
So Puffy recommended this fic by @theinfamousdoctorf , "Eclipse Meets His Match".
I'm currently on chapter 40, and I am genuinely surprised how much I am liking this fic so far. It got everything; redemption and character growth, the representation of Sun as the good, glowing angel he is in my mind (for canon, and every AU. He is always perfect in my eyes I love him can you tell lol), slow-burn romance, drama, excitment, plot, jokes and funny moments... even if there are a lot of mentions of sex and sexual pleasure, it doesn't feel out of the place as there is so much more to it too.
Eclipse's redemption to become better and realising he is in love with Sun has been so interesting to follow. Sun deserves the love. I love when Sun is getting loved. I literally ship him with every other animatronic in the games and love it when people ship him with their self-inserts and OCs. Because I love him so much I want him to be loved in every possible universe he is in.
Even bigger bonus to this fic is the second pairing, Solar and Moon, which I already opened up about above. I don't know how much the fic is truthful to the canon lore of the show, but I wish to pretend this fic is the canon now /hj.
I love the characters and how they're written. I love the descriptions of their flaws and hopes and dreams. How vulnerable they can get. How closely they stick together. And as an appreciation for making me tearful and excited about fanfiction in such a long time, I would hope to be able to gift the author some fan art for their fic.
But I've sworn to not draw anything for the show. For my own good. I've got too many awful comments already from the fans of the show despite never doing any art for it. I am just scared it will turn things worse.
End words:
I don't know if creating a new alias would be the right choice. So my main name/account would be spared from the confusion that the show's fans seem to stirr into, where one tsams artwork turns all of the artist' work into tsams.
I don't care if the art style would be recognisible. The artist would be me, but not PixelChills. Just so I could gift something to the author of this fic that is currently saving me from the boredom of being unable to write my own.
Thank you.
(This text has been typed on my phone, so pardon for any typos).
-Chill
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problemcore · 2 years
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late night avm doodles. i like these guys.......
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smalltimidbean · 4 months
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oh to have a fiend plush… i mean i can technically get one made by budsies (a plush making company) but you’re probably not comfortable with that. which is perfectly valid
i must confess i never thought i would admire them so much as i do lol (even if they slightly scare me /lh)
ah well i’ll continue to admire them from afar
Yeah, not only would I be very uncomfortable with that, it'd be incredibly disrespectful (and just plain weird) to take my personal character (or anyone's, really) and make a plush of them to keep for yourself - so, please do not do that
If I did theoretically have a project featuring Bean and Fiend, and it was popular enough for merch, Fiend plush would definitely be one of the first things to make, much to their chagrin hehe
Again, unlikely to happen, but thanks for liking Fiend so much!
(Also tangent, but if I had a nickel for every time someone really liked a more antagonistic spin-off of Bean, I would have at least two nickels, which is not a lot, but it is weird that it has happened at least twice… (reference))
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drewsaturday · 3 months
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yeah two cakes theory but something about being in... small to medium sized fandoms makes doing the same thing someone else did feel like a social violation honestly?
i immediately lose all motivation to do a thing if someone else does it first because to me, it'll come off like i'm shamelessly copying them or that i thought i could do it better.
(sometimes i probably could, but i'd rather not come off that rude by actually doing so even if i'd had no idea someone else was working on it when the idea hit me.)
#txt#i should probs get into bigger fandoms where there's such a sheer volume of stuff going on no one would even NOTICE similar works j;alskdjf#but alas the brainrot only hits for environments where i can't enjoy making anything without worrying this will happen#if i'm not contributing anything 'new' i simply cannot justify the energy#can you tell i just saw some art of a niche idea i wanted to draw for one of my small fandoms j;LKJajl;sdfjk#in this case though that person did it far better than i could so i can't even be disappointed#just like. ough#this is a big reason i havent rly vidded anything lately too#the couple soooorta recent fandoms of mine i wanted to vid for were more medium sized and someone ended up using the exact song#i was working on for that character so i noped out bc the copying concerns hit even harder in those cases#i need to go do something original sometime ever in my entire life so my creative existence stops being about filling a#niche no one else is in so i feel like i have a tiny little place i slot into or belong in or whatever#because the whole nature of fandom means 'mine' does not exist#and it feels like even if someone outright DOES copy you...#you have no right to be upset about it because you're all playing with someone else's dolls anyway#(see: someone literally doing this after i posted about an idea i was writing and them interacting w the post so they DEF SAW IT#without crediting/involving me in the finished thing at all and saying it was their idea#i never want to do that to other people or come off like i am lol)
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If I know enough about everything I won't fear anything
#knowledge isn't just power. it's power over fear and the unknown.#if i eradicate the unknown i can't fear it#or at least bring the unknown down to a manageable level#who cares if i don't know what i ate for breakfast 20 days ago? that unknown is nothing to fear.#but death? that is an unknown to fear.#and i cant make myself hide behind religion#unless i believe the stories i make so much that they consume my thoughts#sometimes its easier just to paint over the unknown with my own colors and hide it from my sight#but that isnt a long-term solution. no. pretending i know the unknown doesnt make it known. it just makes another possibility.#but if i know all the possibilities#then i can be prepared for whatever the unknown turns out to be#and then i will have a solid plan#even if that plan is to simply accept what could be as it happens#that's still a better plan than just wandering through life right next to the answers but too scared to look them in the face#i am really tired and slowly descending into madness which means i rant about shit like this#i don't need to know everything. i just need to know ENOUGH.#but what draws the line between enough and too much?#will i ever obtain the arbitrary amount of knowledge i think is enough or will i forever search for knowledge that cannot exist?#i don't know.#but i can find out.#knowing enough will take a while#maybe i don't need to know everything. i just need to be aware of all the possibilities and use that to determine what's most likely.#idk. i need sleep.#if anyone besides me happens to read this- you also need sleep go to bed
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rillian4e · 7 months
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Riding genshin men, how will they react?
Ft & Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Lyney, Albedo
Cw: Riding, praise, overall soft, fluffy and short. Might have grammar mistakes, just ignore lol, wrote this in a hurry so might be a mess.
Neuvillette: All pretty, sitting on top of him in his office, raising your hips before slamming them right back down, one of Neuvillette's hands around your waist, helping you ride him, "Mmhpf- I'm coming, I'm... C-Cumming!" You cried out sensitive as you released all over on his cock, you let out a load moan, tightening up around him as you felt him grind you down onto him, not allowing you to calm down as he chased his own orgasm. "I'm sorry, my dear but I need to be quick, the trial is starting soon. Just hold on to me and be quiet." He lowered his head, pressing a kiss on your temple. After your short meeting with Neuvillette, his clothes were...rather messed up and his hair slightly disheveled which the people of Fontaine found strange, it left them what could be the reason?
Scaramouche: This guy would rarely allow you to be on top due to his pride, but this was one of the very rare occasions where he was simply too tired and feeling vulnerable which you of course used to your advantage. Bouncing up and down his cock, the sight was worth it he thought, maybe it wasn't too bad after all?, his hands gripping your hips tightly as his lips find their way into your mouth, biting on your bottom lip to draw blood. "Hah... Turns out, you aren't completely useless." he'd mutter, smirking as he bit on your neck. He wouldn't mind having you ride him more in the future, after all, seeing you bounce up and down, trying so hard to make the both of you finish, was quite adorable...
Alhaitham: After seeing you beg for attention, he had to give in, placing you on his lap, originally only to cockwarm him as he worked but that soon ended up into him slamming your hips against his, lewd sounds filling the room. "Y-Yes, keep going, pretty girl... I can feel you squeezing me, are you close, hm?" He asked, placing a kiss on your cheek, he certainly didn't mind you distracting him, all he wanted was to fill you up and have you ride him like the good girl you are.
Lyney: He enjoyed nothing more than having you ride his cock after a tiring day of acting and making others smile, it was his job, yes, but it sometimes got exhausting and what better way to relax than have you on his cock, all pretty and eager to please him? "Mm, you're doing so good, ma cherie... It feels heavenly." He murmured, drunk on the feeling of your pussy wrapping around his shaft so perfectly, his head buried in the crook of your neck, soft moans and occasional mewls slipping past his lips.
Albedo: He rarely had time, all consumed with his research and experiments but that wouldn't prevent him from making time for his angel. Having you on his lap, either cockwarming or riding him was a regular thing of you two which you both enjoyed, this was no exception. "Are you alright, my love? Getting tired already, hmm? In that case, I'll offer you some assistance since you have been a good girl up till now..." He remarked, smiling lovingly as he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, his focus now shifting on to you instead of his work. Helping you ride him faster, the sweet praises which left his mouth making you cum on the spot, earning an impressed chuckle from Albedo, he would surely note this later, "There you go, angel. Now, be good and rest while I finish this, alright?" He patted your hair, pulling you to rest your head against his chest.
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hannieehaee · 19 days
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Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?
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content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.
wc: 1156
a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3
masterlist
jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.
well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.
he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.
now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.
you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.
despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).
today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.
he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.
jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.
as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.
"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.
"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"
"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."
"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.
by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.
"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.
"hannie, don't lie to me."
"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"
"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.
the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.
"jeonghan, apologize to him."
"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.
"you heard me."
"but–"
"hannie!"
"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."
"than–"
"thank you", you interrupted the man.
jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.
after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.
"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.
"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.
"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.
despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.
"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.
you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.
"are you not?", you inquired.
"i am, but they dont need to know that!"
"you're so annoying ..."
"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"
"im not at liberty of releasing that information."
he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.
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oops-all-concrete · 3 months
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Okay, you lovelies voted for fluff, so you're getting fluff! Welcome to:
BG3 companions react to: Tav drawing the companions in their sketch book! (Romance implied)
Beware spoilers and cuteness ahead, please enjoy!
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Lae'zel -
Eventually she gets irritated of being stared at, while Tav is sat pencil in book and puts down her sword from being sharpened, and paces over. "Chk. You've been ogling at me like a child for at least ten minutes. Is it with purpose or are you simply bad at keeping to yourself?" She asks, head tilted with wide eyed threat. Once she gets a glance at the page, she softens, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping. She admires the sketch before she realises she too, is staring. "Hmm. Acceptable. Continue" Before she returns to her tent, and totally doesn't stay stiller on purpose.
Shadowheart -
Shadowheart doesn't suspect a thing, until she passes by them and totally doesn't take a glance in the journal from over Tavs shoulder. She pauses and appreciates the work long enough for Tav to realise they're being watched. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just appreciating my good side from your point of view." She smiles. "Oh, we should draw each other! I haven't sketched in so long, but I'd like for you to see what I see too." She offers, going and grabbing her own sketch set, sitting beside Tav, comfortably drawing them.
Wyll -
He allows Tav their privacy, even if they stare sometimes. He needs to be physically shown because he is too polite to snoop or look over their shoulder. Upon being shown, he smiles, but winces a little. "Oh, I love it, don't get me wrong. You've captured the Blade of Frontiers in all his glory...just, all his glory with horns and the devil's details" He chuckles, trying not to seem dissappointed. But upon another look, his eyes become wider with wonder. "...you know what, if thats what I look like to you, it's not as bad as I thought." He smiles.
Karlach -
She's nosy, okay? So when Tav puts down their book to help Gale with dinner, she sneaks a little peek, grabbing the pages with a clean cloth. She however, gives herself away immediately. "WOAH??" The whole camp turns but Karlach does not take notice. "SOLDIER?? YOU DREW THIS?? THIS IS AMAZING!" She yells, eyes bright, brows up, grin wide with teeth. The camp settles while dinner happens, but later in the evening, she pulls Tav aside to show them something. Upon a large empty plot of just dirt, Tav finds their face messily drawn with a stick into the dirt. "Can't quite draw right now, or ever really, but I wanted you to have a portrait too. Not bad, eh?"
Gale -
"Oh, and who's that handsome fellow?" He smirks, catching sight of the page one day. He asks for a better look and takes a moment to admire the sketch, before frowning. "Did you...draw me with gray hairs? Am I graying??" He asks, a hand combing through his so well maintained mane. "You didn't know?" Astarion weighs in, finding an opportunity to bully the wizard. "For a human, you are at that age, are you not, Gale?" Lae'zel adds. The wizard makes an almost theatric gasp, crossing his arms. "Gray suits you Gale!" Karlach insists, taking the drawing from Gale and admiring it. Gale pauses, looks again, and grins. "Now that you mention it..."
Astarion -
"Okay, so, that's clearly not any of the imbeciles over there, what handsome young men have you been seeing without me?" He jokes. It takes a minute, but the way Tav looks between Astarion and the book, gives it away. "...oh. That's me?" He seems to entirely lose his ability to speak. He gestures to take the book and have a better look, running his hand over the sketches, and then over his face, seeming almost confused. When prompted, he clears his throat. "Well, it's- ah, certainly flattering. Nice to have such a flattering mirror" He smiles, slipping back into his more confident persona. "In fact, I'd love to keep such a flattering masterpiece, if that would be quite alright with you?" He smiles confidently, but the way his eyes stray to the sketch tells all.
Bonus! The older generation
Halsin -
"I cannot recall the last time I have received a portrait in such likeness." He smiles fondly when Tav shows him the piece. "Might I take this back to the Grove? I'm particularly fond of anything you do really- but especially this" He asks, warm smile spread over his face. Should Tav allow it, he gives the best hug in thanks, promising to return the flattery in kind. (Yes, it will be whittling)
Jaheira -
Of course she gets a look while Tav is distracted. "Not bad. Better that bard songs, that's for sure" She smiles, nodding at the adventurer. She takes a second look and thinks for a moment. "...When did my face get so wrinkly?" She asks in a vaguely dissapointed wonder.
Minsc -
"Oh, my friend, you have a talent of flattery!" He claps and grins when he sees the work, but seems to be looking for something. "Oh- Erm, might I ask a question...where is Boo? You cannot have the great Minsc without his tiny, fluffy brain on his shoulder!" He asks, proudly producing the hamster in hand. Tav turns the page to reveal quite a few sketches of Boo. "What?? Did Boo pose for these?? How is he so accurately cute?? BOO, YOU LOOK ADORABLE! WHY DID NOBODY TELL MINSC IT WAS PORTRAIT DAY??"
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you'd like to read next. I have another poll coming soon as well 👀
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tacticaldiary · 7 months
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Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission
Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price
The Price Of A Secret
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"
"This is different." He grits out.
"And why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-
Masterlist
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The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.
"She's not coming."
Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.
"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"
She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.
It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.
His wife.
"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.
"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.
His determined, hers resolute.
Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.
He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.
"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."
"Price-"
"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?
Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.
Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.
Successfully, not smoothly.
The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.
Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.
Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.
When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.
The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.
"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.
It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.
Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.
"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.
Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.
He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.
Nobody speaks.
Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.
The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.
It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.
"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.
"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.
"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.
"At a fucking cost."
"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.
"This is different." Ghost grits out.
"Why's that?"
"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.
How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.
It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.
But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.
She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.
What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.
"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.
"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.
"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.
"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"
"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.
"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."
It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."
He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.
A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.
"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.
Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.
And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.
She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.
He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.
Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.
And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.
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(10/09/2023)
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perlelune · 5 months
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.
His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.
He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.
His visits grow more frequent. 
You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 
But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 
And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.
There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.
You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 
This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.
It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 
You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.
So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.
“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 
“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”
His words make you sit up straight. 
“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 
Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.
Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.
“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”
You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.
“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”
His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”
William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.
“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”
He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.
He grabs your hands and kisses them.
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”
William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.
When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.
He immediately stops.
Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 
“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”
He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.
“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”
A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”
He tilts his head and laughs. 
“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.
“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.
“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”
Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.
Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.
“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.
William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 
He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.
Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.
When he releases you, you’re breathless.
“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.
“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.
Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.
“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”
Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”
“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.
His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 
“Nothing.”
You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.
“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.
“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”
You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.
“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”
“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”
Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”
His mouth quirks lopsidedly.
“Anything for you, princess.”
You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 
No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.
You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 
He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”
Your brow arches in question.
“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”
Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.
“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.
“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”
Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.
You shake your head.
“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”
His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”
“What are you scared of, princess?”
You suck in a shaky breath.
“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”
“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”
“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”
You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 
A lame excuse flows from your lips.
“I don’t even know what to wear.”
“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.
“What?”
“Let’s go to your room.”
Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.
“Wait, Coryo…”
He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.
“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.
You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.
It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 
Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”
“Just trust me. Try it.”
Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.
Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.
Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.
“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.
Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.
“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”
“I do but…”
“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.
Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.
You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.
He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.
“Hm nice, twirl for me.”
His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.
Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.
“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 
He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.
“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”
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“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.
“I promised I would,” you defend.
He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”
Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.
He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,
“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”
You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 
“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”
You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”
Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 
He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 
It makes you realize how much you missed. 
After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.
Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.
You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”
Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.
A slow exhale drops from your chest. 
“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”
It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.
It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.
Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”
“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”
A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 
“Hm, what’s wrong?”
A frown puckers his forehead. 
“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.
You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”
“There’s something in it.”
“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”
Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…
Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.
He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”
“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”
“Of course.”
He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 
“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.
“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.
A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 
The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.
If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.
“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.
“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Head…heavy.”
“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good girl.”
In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.
You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 
Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.
“You just need a little bit of rest.”
Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.
“Rest…” you echo.
But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 
Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 
“Coryo, what is happening-”
His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 
When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 
He returns to the space between your thighs. 
You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 
Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”
His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 
“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”
You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 
“I…”
The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.
Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 
You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.
He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.
Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 
Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.
He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.
He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.
Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.
“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.
A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 
You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.
A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 
When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 
Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.
Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.
“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 
His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.
“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 
The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.
A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.
The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.
A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.
His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.
Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.
Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.
“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.
“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”
2K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 4 months
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before my nails dig
summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.
warnings. angst, fluff, comfort
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos
Had breathing always been this hard?
It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.
And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.
It's getting harder to breathe now.
A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.
"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."
Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.
"Wake up."
"Wake up!"
"--Astarion!"
The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.
All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.
But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.
With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.
All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.
You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"
"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.
"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.
After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."
He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."
"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"
He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.
Gods, you're beautiful.
Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.
"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."
The words sound like honey on your tongue.
"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."
His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."
"You didn't."
"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.
Refreshing, almost.
Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.
And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.
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lambertdiary · 5 months
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NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it
A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming
Word Count: 2.5k+
Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers
MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST
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After A Bad Day
Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother. 
The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.
He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.
“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.
“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.
“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”
“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”
“I can imagine”
She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”
“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”
“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”
“Did she eat her dinner?”
“I tried my best but you know her”
“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.
“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.
“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.
“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”
“What happened?”
Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”
“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”
“It was a misunderstanding”
“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”
She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?” 
“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”
“Y- yeah”
“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.
He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.
She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.
He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.
After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.
“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”
“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.
A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.
He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick. 
A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”
She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.
The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release. 
It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.
“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”
She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.
He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.
One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could. 
Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.
She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.
Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.
“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.
He swallowed hard before answering “Yes” 
“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”
He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.
“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”
She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.
Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.
He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body. 
She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.
With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.
He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall. 
They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.
“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.
“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.
He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.
“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.
He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her. 
By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.
“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”
Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure. 
His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.
When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body. 
“Good job” She whispered into his ear.
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lassieposting · 3 months
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I like to think that once things have settled down post-game, Tav will start addressing Astarion's critically low self-everything issues.
Like, this man's obnoxious, vain exterior is a paper-thin sheet of ice over a bottomless lake of insecurities and negative self-talk, and we see that the whole way through the game. He's been taught to believe that his only value is in his body. He'll bitterly call sex the only thing he's good for. He's shocked if you dump another companion for him, because he sees himself as having nothing to offer but baggage. He knows, in an abstract way, that he's attractive, but he doesn't remember what he looks like.
Perhaps one evening he asks what they see in him, and when they ask what he thinks their answer will be, he's stumped by the question.
And Tav decides it's past time to do something about that, because there is so much about him that is worthy of love.
Consider: Astarion rolling out of bed at like noon, padding naked to the bathroom to wash and style his hair, and catching sight of something tucked into the frame of the mirror. It's a sketch of him, one of Tav's, and beside it, they've scrawled the words you're beautiful. He grins, and traces the charcoal strokes with a fingertip while he brushes his teeth, because that's not a difficult one to believe, and he's touched.
But then he starts finding more little sketches, and more little notes. When he reaches for the book he's been reading, there's one tucked into the page he's dog-eared - a little caricature of himself, curled up in an armchair reading a giant book, captioned you're clever. He snorts a laugh, a little self-deprecating. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's no Gale, and he has brain fog more often than not. But...well, he did graduate law school and pass the bar once upon a time, so technically they're not wrong.
You're brave is resting on his pillow when he comes back from splashing his face in the bathroom one night, still trembling from a nightmare. His eyes well up when he spots it, and when he crawls into open arms and buries his face in Tav's clavicle he mumbles that he doesn't feel very brave at all. That's a hard one to accept, but they will keep telling him.
You care about me... is simply sitting on a dresser one day. Two little drawings with that one; in the first, he's bandaging a cartoonish bump on Tav's head. On the back, though...he recognises that image, Tav tied up and spitting rage at him through the night, lost to their Urges, as he kept watch. In smaller letters, his own words are reflected back at him: ...even when that's an objectively stupid thing to do.
You never gave up is in the medical kit kept under the bed, the one stocked with salves and oils for the bone-deep ache of two hundred years of consistent injuries. Tav will rub his shoulders for him if he asks, he knows that. But, well, two centuries of hiding any sign of weakness makes for a tough habit to break. He touches the reminder gently, as though it's fragile, and after a moment's hesitation, calls them in for help.
And on and on they go, dozens of little notes, a tangible list of things they love about him. Repeated, sometimes, some more than others, as and when he needs to be reminded of them. Often accompanied by little drawings that make him laugh or snort or cry - snapshots at how Tav sees him. His ridiculous bedhead. His unflattering blood-drunk expression, gawking into the middle distance, utterly lost in the sauce. The way his ears will sometimes twitch in his sleep. The Sexy Side-Lean pose he didn't realise he tends to do in doorways. His dramatic readings of appalling erotica.
And gradually, he begins to believe them.
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kelstey · 3 months
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Deja Vu
mattheo riddle x reader
warnings : smut
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
your back slammed against the wall, mattheo's body pressed up to the front of you as the two of you eagerly made out. you weren't meant to be in this position, but the two of you couldn't seem to get enough of each other.
his hand clung to your waist tightly, his lips hungrily kissing down your jaw then down your neck. he was bound to leave marks that everyone would see for the next few days.
"mattheo," you moaned out.
"yes?" he looked up at you as he pressed kisses down the valley between your breasts.
"we shouldn't be doing this," you said, it was a lie. you most definitely should be doing this. you needed him so bad. the two of you had broken up a few months prior - it was toxic.
there were too many arguments over the smallest and petty things. the two of you eventually had enough of each other and ended things, but the feelings were very much still there - unbeknownst to your friends that you would sneak out most nights to meet mattheo.
they'd be so disappointed if they knew that you were busy getting your brains fucked out every night and not just 'going on a walk to clear your head'.
"if you don't want this, then why are you so soaked for me, hmm?" mattheo's fingers teased you through your skirt.
"shut up," a smile broke onto your face as he smirked at your reaction.
he knew you couldn't get enough of him - no matter how many times you said you hated him. you both knew you both loved each other, and likely always would.
it only made the breakup harder to get over whenever you were having sex with another guy. turns out moaning out your exes name during sex was not the best idea.
you didn't mean to, it simply slipped out. how else were you meant to finish with the thought of somebody else? even fucking others boys wasn't that good. they never filled you or stretched you the way mattheo did.
they didn't know your body the way mattheo did. your sweet spots, the way you love your hair getting pulled, the mix of degradation and praise.
the way that you loved the feeling of getting choked - especially in missionary which mattheo always loved as he always thought it was more intimate.
that and the way he could watch each singular expression on your face as he cause you multiple orgasms within minutes of each other. you would be physically unable to walk for hours - even sometimes days afterwards.
"i need you so bad," mattheo lifted your body and placed you down onto his bed. the only other bed you ever felt safe in.
mattheo took your bra off with one hand, something he had perfected with you. without a second to spare his mouth enclosed itself around one of your nipples, and a hand toying around with the other just the way you like it.
you threw your head back onto the pillow, the way he could satisfy you without always penetrating you was endearing.
"stop teasing," you moaned.
"i thought you loved it when i did that?" mattheo peppered kisses down your stomach, stopping just above your skirt.
"i do but i need your dick in me right fucking now," mattheo obliged happily - whatever you asked, you received.
within seconds he slid himself into, despite the million times you've had sex with him - you could never fully get used to his large size. he was always slow at first as he slid in and out of you, making sure to tease you and have you begging for more.
then he'd work up his pace, his mouth reattaching back onto your nipple, the other hand around your neck as you turned into a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.
the sounds of you alone made him cum. he would often get himself off to the beautiful sound of you screaming his name when he was alone. the thought of simply your face could get him off too.
"gonna be a good girl for me and cum around my cock?" mattheo panted as he felt himself draw closer to finishing. "look at you, covered in my hickies. only i can give you them, no one else. i want everyone to know you're mine."
-
"no fucking way," pansy's jaw nearly dropped, you looked up at her as you were eating.
"what?" you asked.
"mattheo and cho? what an unusual pairing," you felt your heart break into pieces, mattheo? the same one who was saying he loved you a couple days ago?
"what do you mean?" you looked around the hall and your eyes fell upon the pair. he was sat a couple rows down at your table, cho sat on his lap. you watched as he played with her hair, a hand on her thigh as he spoke to his friends. the same way he used to do with you.
"do you want to leave? i think the breakfast i just ate is away to come back up," pansy lightly laughed, unsure of how to react to you. she wasn't sure wether you were about to explode with laughter, heartbreak or anger.
"yeah let's," you quickly got up from the table and left with pansy by your side.
mattheo's eyes fell onto you as you left the hall, had you seen him? he was desperate to get your attention despite having a whole other girl on his lap.
you had his still fresh hickies on your body - but he was already with another girl. was he playing some sort of sick joke? who does that?
-
you sat on draco's lap, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he spoke away to blaise. "hey baby," you smiled at him.
"hey babe," he smiled back at you, you couldn't help but internally cringe as you pretended to be coupled up with draco.
he was there when you spotted mattheo with cho on his lap, he quickly ran after you and made a deal. he had been wanting some other slytherin girl's attention, and thought it would be an amazing idea if you two pretended to date.
you could make mattheo mad, and draco could then possibly try get with his girl. you were more than happy - belated at the proposal. except for the fact you had to be all lovey dovey with draco.
he was hot to say the least, but 'dating' someone you always thought of as a friend was slightly weird. but it wasn't unexpected as the two of you had your moments where you flirted - only innocently, of course.
draco's hand was on your thigh as you joined in the conversation between him and blaise, some random stuff as usual. you heard someone walk into the room - not even bothering to look as you could already smell the scent of vanilla, cigarettes and a slight woody smell.
mattheo riddle.
he cleared his throat, coughing. this caught the attention of the three of you, all turning around in unison to look at the boy. his fists were clenched at his side, eyes burning into both you and draco.
"didnt know you and malfoy were a thing now," mattheo's words seemed harsh - wether he meant them to be or not.
"nothing official," you flashed mattheo a fake smile.
"yeah, right," he said before sitting down on the sofa opposite the two of you. his eyes didn't leave you once, well, mainly draco's pale hand that was placed extremely highly on your thigh.
"something wrong, riddle?" you tilted your head to the side as you noticed his eyes focused on draco's hand.
"fine," he spat out.
"well, my dorm?" draco asked you and you nodded, wanting to escape the high-tension situation. you got up and fixed your skirt as draco also got up.
draco placed his hand on your lower back, walking you out of the common room. you looked back to see mattheo's eyes burning holes into the back of you. you turned back around, smirking at yourself.
"you think it's working?" you asked draco.
"is that even a question? he looked like he was away to cave my head in," draco sat on the edge of his bed, his arms supporting him. was it bad to say he looked incredibly hot? his school shirt was rolled up just above his elbows, revealing his veins.
"you know what i think would piss him off even more?" you walked over to draco, standing between his legs.
"what's that?" he smirked.
"if we fucked," you placed your fingers underneath his chin, making him look up at you. his hands travelled up the side of your thighs, then stopping at your hips.
"you don't need to tell me twice."
-
draco malfoy was a better shag than you originally thought. he pleased you in all sorts of ways - switching between being submissive and letting you ride him to dominate where he pounded any remaining dignity you had left, out of you.
you told him not to be shy on leaving hickies and any sort of marks. he didn't take that lightly either.
"draco are you fucking joking me?! i cant even cover half of these!" you scolded him, your fingers went over the sensitive purple on your neck.
"you told me to not be shy," he shrugged as he slipped back into his uniform.
you rolled your eyes, "draco where are my tights?" you panicked. you nearly flipped his whole room upside down trying to find any sign of the thin black material. you pulled your skirt up from the back of your thighs, spotting the dark red hand marks draco left.
"i didn't even realise you had that in you," you turned around to draco, referring to the large hand marks.
"you wanted to make him jealous," he said.
"jealous, yes, not to murder me or you! he's gonna go apeshit when he sees these!" you said.
"isn't that part of the plan?" draco looked at you confused.
"i suppose. come on now, there's gonna be hardly any food left for dinner," you said and the two of you made your way down to the great hall.
all eyes on you was an understatement. the hall quickly went quiet when you and draco walked in. the two of you still both slightly flushed in the face, the love bites very much visible on your neck.
theodore whistled, "didn't know you had that in you malfoy."
"y/n said the same exact thing," draco smirked and you lightly smacked his arm. "what? i'm not lying."
"shut your gob, i've already had enough of everyone staring," you said before digging into your food. you looked up across the large table, mattheo.
his eyes were on you. did he really just spend his whole time staring at you whenever possible? you put your head back down, awkwardly rubbing your neck.
"round 2 later?" draco smirked.
"don't even think about it, malfoy," a voice said and you looked up. mattheo?? again??
"you're not the boss of me," you snapped back. E
you could see the rage in mattheo's eyes. "we need to talk."
you looked at draco for approval, he nodded and you got up. you and mattheo walked out of the hall, he walked in front of you, well more so sped walked.
"slow down!" you tried to catch up to him.
"what are you doing to me?" he turned around and stopped in his tracks.
"i'm not doing anything," you said.
"yes you are! you're killing me y/n! do you know how it feels to see the girl i'm in love with walk in half an hour late to dinner, clearly having have just shagged the one and only malfoy?!" he took a step closer to you.
you gulped, unsure what to say. his closeness was also killing you. "i didn't think you'd care."
"why wouldn't i?" mattheos eyes softened as he spoke.
"why would you?! you were the one with cho's tongue half way down your throat just two days after we fucked! i know we're broken up but do you really think i don't still have feelings for you? i know you're smarter than that, riddle."
"i was only doing it for a reaction from you! clearly i got one but never did i think you would go and shag malfoy!"
"are you joking me? are we in primary or something? why would you even do that?!"
"i don't know! i thought it was a good idea and i wanted to move on from you - i couldn't just keep hooking up with you and pretend i'm not absolutely in love with you!"
"you're a fucking idiot, mattheo. i know you're a bit stupid but really!" you rubbed your temple.
"i'm sorry, okay? i just wanted you to show you cared but now that i look back i realise it was childish. i really do love you, y/n. i always will," mattheo's face was a mere few inches away from yours.
"i'll never understand you, you know that?" you let out a small giggle.
"oh i know. you're the only one who can put up with me anyways. i missed you, cho was a shit kissed," mattheo said.
"i don't really wanna hear about you kissing another girl right now," you said.
"well i also really don't want to see you with another guys hickies all over your necks but here we are," you rolled your eyes.
"i hate you," you held back a smile.
"i love you too. now let me show you how it truly feels to be fucked."
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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Note
Can I request reader x Lucifer, where she reassures him and tells him that she will always love and be there for him more than anything.
He deserves love, and Lilith deserves to go fuck herself.
I like to think that what's going on with Lilith is some kind of a misunderstanding or will otherwise be resolved, but our dear Lucy boy does indeed deserve comfort in the interim, so have this little ficlet!
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
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There were times when the King of Hell simply broke. The constant threats to his power, the atrocities committed by his subjects, the weight of all he'd done and his powerlessness to change anything for the better... it was too much, even for him. Once upon a time, he'd been able to share the weight of his crown, and to draw strength from the one he loved most on the days he couldn't think of a reason to get out of bed. Now, she was gone, and those dark days came for him all the more often in her absence. He'd survived, as he always had and always would, but his servants knew not to intrude when he sealed himself away to crumble behind closed doors. They'd learned no one could reach him when he fell into those dark thoughts.
You, unaware of these things, hadn't hesitated to seek him out when you didn't hear a word for over two days. His private wing of the castle had been unnaturally dim and dank when you'd arrived; the magical lights that usually kept it shimmering were mere flickers, and the golden walls seemed to sag, as if the structure itself was wilting under its own misery. A careful hand along the lifeless corridors had been needed to guide you through the darkness and to the King's private chambers.
When you'd opened the doors, you'd barely recognized the man on the bed at first glance. With his disheveled clothes, unkempt hair and lifeless red eyes, it had taken you a moment to recognize your beloved Lucifer, even with all six of his wings lying limp at his sides. You'd been across the room in a heartbeat once the pieces had connected.
Lucifer's surprise at your arrival had quickly turned to pleas for you to leave. He promised that he was fine, that he only needed to be alone, that you shouldn't bother yourself with such things, but of course you hadn't been convinced. The spread of shed feathers across the mattress and deep bags beneath his eyes told you he was in need of help, and you intended to provide it, however you could. Your steadfast refusal to leave finally brought the truth out of him.
"Alright, I'm not fine!" he confessed, sitting upright to face you. Seated on your heels, you gave him space instinctively, wanting him to continue so you might learn what was troubling the man you loved. Though your first guess would have been some unnatural, Hellish sickness, there was something about his movements that told you it was much deeper than that. Such a proud man would not let himself reach a state like this lightly. Grabbing a handful of his disheveled hair, he averted his eyes and took a shaky breath, wings crumpled around him in a ring of crimson feathers like a broken shield. Horns peaked from his forehead as he fought for his words.
"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, but I just..." he trailed off as a wave of frustration passed through his features, expression pinching tight as he held his face in his hand. Though your heart ached at the sight, you held back still, knowing you needed the truth before you could do anything for him. A heavy sigh passed through his fingers before he raised his head to look out a nearby stained glass window. The mixed colors reflected deeply in his glassy eyes, and he let out a miserable laugh. "Sometimes, it's too much, you know? Hell, the Sinners, the endless misery, and old Lucy's got nobody to blame for any of it but himself."
"Lucy-"
"What am I even talking about? Nobody to blame? I've got nobody, period! I can't! Soon as someone gets attached, it all goes south! Either I've gotta push them away for their own good, or they end up leaving all on their own!" he continued, breaking into a bout of unhinged laughter. All six wings flexed without any kind of unison, sending a fresh shower of feathers over the both of you as he looked upwards and pointed an accusatory finger at the ceiling. "Top marks for the punishment, you Heavenly bastards! It's the gift that just won't stop giving!"
You'd have stopped him were you not shocked into silence by it all. There had always been hints of your beloved fallen angel's deeply buried suffering: smiles faltering without a word, sudden flashes of sadness in his eyes when he thought you couldn't see, the tightness with which he'd embrace you upon saying goodbye... There had just never been enough for you to act decisively, and he always brushed off even the most casual concern for his wellbeing. Now, with his sanity potentially hanging by a thread, you could almost feel the agony that was weighing him down.
"Gotta keep my daughter away for her own good, lost all my friends, lost my wife-!" he halted with an especially pained laugh, and clutched the fabric of his shirt as if wounded by the very word. Suddenly you understood his seclusion all too well. His beloved of the past ten millennia, the woman he'd crossed Heaven for, the mother of his child... Lilith had been his rock, and without her, how could he shoulder it all? The man before you was collapsing under a kind of pressure few could imagine.
Burying his face in his hands, he spoke next as if you weren't present, sinking into himself and the pit of misery he likely thought he deserved. "And sooner or later I'll lose you too! Can't I get a damned-!?"
"Lucifer!" you interrupted at last, grabbing his shoulders in tandem with the shout. He lifted his head in surprise, having never heard you raise your voice with him and likely quite unaccustomed to the sound to begin with. Emboldened by the success, you continued with all the confidence you could pack into every syllable, needing him to hear you and know you spoke the truth.
"You haven't lost me, and you won't!" you insisted, sure enough in yourself that you'd have challenged every Exorcist in Heaven to prove you meant it. Lucifer, still caught off guard by your initial yell, remained briefly unresponsive. Blinking suddenly, he shifted to an expression of apathy before taking hold of your wrists and gently pulling them off his shoulders.
"I want to believe that..." he replied softly, slightly more grounded now. Breath hitching, he slid his thumbs over the backs of your palms, taking a moment just to feel your presence before abruptly letting go. You could sense how hard he was resisting the urge to pull you in. "But there's so much that can happen. My position, my enemies... it's more than I can ask of anyone, and eventually... Well, everyone has a limit, and I can't blame them for leaving when they hit it."
In the short time you'd known him, you'd seen a great deal of the hardships he spoke of, and knew that many would indeed find the constant weight of his position too much to endure. Since being at his side inevitably meant shouldering some of that weight by proxy, you understood why many would find themselves unable to endure. It was indeed too much to ask of anyone...
Thankfully, you didn't need to be asked. You were offering.
"I don't have a limit. Not so long as I'm with you." you said more firmly, taking his hands back in your own. Once more, you looked into his eyes, and spoke with all the conviction your voice could possibly muster. "I don't care about Heaven, or the rest of Hell, or anything. If I'm with you, I can handle it."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Lucifer replied quickly, almost mechanical in his dismissal. Though he was still deep in his thoughts and deeper still in his grief, you didn't fail to notice how he let his hands remain in your grip. Despite it all, he wanted you, but just wasn't yet strong enough to face the pain of wanting. You didn't mind. He needed time to heal, and you'd shoulder as much of the load as possible for as long as it took for him to do so.
"Well, good luck trying to stop me." you said, ever more defiant. A small but far more genuine chuckle passed his lips, and you pulled him closer, encouraging the exhausts angel to lean on you for an embrace. When his head met your chest, you held him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair just the way he liked it. As his exhausted body eased against your own, you knew you spoke only the truth. "I love you, and I'm going to keep loving you. Nothing is ever going to change that."
He laughed again, sounding like he still believed his luck wouldn't change, but was daring to hope regardless.
"I love you too."
As you held him on the bed in silence, you vowed to every being from the highest peaks of Heaven to the lowest depths of Hell that he wouldn't regret this.
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asmosmainhoe · 4 months
Text
MC draws the brothers
im kinda shy to ask this but, can u make artist!mc drawing brothers and others and them reacting to it?(*´-`)
- @maiitski
Note: This was incredibly fun to write! I also only did the brothers, because I don't write for more than 7 characters in one post
Gender: neutral
Warnings: heavy language
Lucifer
You often draw him when he's working, because then he's absolutely still for hours
At first he doesn't exactly know what you're doing over there with your notebook. The first guess is some kind of study and you're simply looking for some peace and quiet to focus
Once he's done with the mountain of paperwork he walks over to you and glances over your shoulder
Oh wow. The portrait you drew of him looks fantastic and he nods proudly until he notices some special details
"Why are the spots under my eyes so dark?"
"Well, you've been working for hours now."
"I see..my hair looks so disheveled as well."
"You just really need some rest."
A portrait falls out of your notebook when you leave the room and he quickly hides it in one of his drawers. There is no way he won't treasure your hard work
Mammon
To say that it's difficult to draw a picture of the greedy demon is a complete understatement since he's in constant movements
The only time you catch him truly sitting still is when he's counting money after a long day of casino activities
"Look at what I won, MC! Hey, you're not even listenin'!"
"Sorry, Mammon. I didn't notice that you talked to me."
"What are ya doin' anyways, huh?"
His voice gets caught in his throat and he starts coughing violently. Partly to hide his embarrassment
"It l-looks pretty cool."
Translation: THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING HE HAS EVER SEEN
"I can get rid of it if you want me to."
"Are ya mad?! You can't just destroy a picture of the great Mammon! Give that to me."
Leviathan
By now it's routine for you to chill in his room to watch him play in the evening, but sometimes it does get a bit boring. Especially when he's playing a game that isn't your cup of tea
So you take out your notebook and start drawing whatever comes to your mind. This time it happens to be the envious third born
But you can't satisfy yourself with a normal portrait, no. You decide to draw him as if he's a character from the game he's currently obsessing over and proudly show him your work once you're done
You can watch Levi's soul leave his body in real time once he realizes that out of all the cool things in his room you drew him
"I-I can't believe you drew me! Me! It looks so good too! MC, I've got to have this! Please!"
I can see him roll around the room crying and screaming if you refuse to hand over the drawing
Satan
Once he loses himself in a book he turns into a freaking statue
Of course he has seen your drawings before and he absolutely adores them. There are several cat pictures from you hanging on his walls
But seeing you put his own features onto paper is a whole other thing
You manage to make him blush a little and chuckle in embarrassment as he inspects your work
"You're extremely talented. It almost looks real."
As Satan inspects your portrait an idea comes to his mind and a mischievous grin forms on his lips
"Do you perhaps take requests? I'd love for you to draw me tower over Lucifer. Preferably him cowering on the ground while I step on him."
"You know exactly that he will kill me if I do that."
"Oh, well. It was worth a shot."
Asmodeus
DRAW HIM LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH DEMONS
Please, the moment he notices that you're drawing him he's going to strike poses left and right
"Let me fix the light real quick! Oh, I how do I look? Is my hair sitting correctly? Oh, why am I even asking? Of course it does!"
It's not the first time that someone either draws him or takes a picture of him, but with you it's special
Now you have to show him your entire notebook! He has to know if there are more portraits of him!
And there are. Most of them are him in an absolutely relaxed position and often times when he's not dolled up at all
"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten ready!"
"You looked the most beautiful in these moments. I didn't wanna disturb them- are you crying?"
"No! OF COURSE I AM!"
Beelzebub
Please, to him you're the most talented artist he has ever seen! And he doesn't hold back with that thought!
One time you drew food just for fun and he ate the entire paper, because it looked way too good. You have to admit that that's quite the high compliment
And Beel has such beautiful and drawable features so how couldn't you put that on a piece of paper?
"Can I see what you're doing?"
The hungry demon gets to lost in it that he's just silent for a very long time. It gets to a point where you worried that he might not like it
"I can throw it away if you want to."
"No, why? I love it."
He never really realized how good he looks until now
"Can I keep it?"
Belphegor
Our sleeping beauty over here is perfect to draw considering he sleeps so still that one might think he actually died
One time you don't even notice that he woke up from his nap and is wondering what you're so focused on
It's only when he leans over to get a peak inside your notebook. You quickly hide the drawings of him, but it's too late for that now. The damage is done and you brace yourself for his teasing
"Wow, you must really like me."
"Shut up."
"This is some Levi-level simping."
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
You guys wrestle over the notebook for a little while until he grows tired of it and lays down again with a yawn
"Fine. Keep your secrets. Your notebook is probably full with my face anyways."
"No."
"Next thing I will find out is that you have a shrine dedicated to me."
"You're such an ass."
"But a pretty one."
---
Masterlist
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