'I just don't believe in/understand it!' well unfortunately for you I just don't stop existing as an agender person bc you don't believe in it. I'm not fucking tinkerbell.
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fantroll time B)
laheeb komodo is a traveling fire-breather who’s sly nature gets her into trouble as much as it gets her out of it. she also wants to be famous. by any means necessary.
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my biggest fear is being looked down upon and considered stupid and it is really hard carrying that fear with me when even i view myself as unintelligent and directionless
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declaring myself the only person who is normal about this one anime (closely followed by the two irl friends who made me watch it, and my mum who watches it with me, but they are not subjected to nearly as much Online stuff as I am so they are inherently more normal about things anyway)
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(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)
.................................
What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."
What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."
What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."
.................................
What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"
What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."
What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."
.................................
What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."
What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."
What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."
.................................
What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."
What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."
What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."
.................................
This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:
failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,
misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,
increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.
Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.
Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy).
Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).
With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.
And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.
Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!
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Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!
very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.
all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.
i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.
now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.
the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.
if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'
do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is
by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of
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i’m gonna have to make my own post about autistic katniss huh
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Transcript for Quackity's recent stream
[Quackity start talking around 1:03 in, but before he speaks you can hear him breathe and sniffle a little]
Quackity: Hello everyone, uh…uh, I'm just waiting for enough people to get here. This is a very important stream. So I'm just going to wait a little bit.
Quackity: Um…[sharp intake of breath] Hello! I hope everyone is having a good night. I'm doing an urgent stream. Only to keep everyone updated on everything that's happening.
Quackity: I wanna apologise for this scuffed stream. I'm not on any of my set-ups right now, I wasn't expecting to stream right now so I don't even have a camera. But I wanna to let everyone know, that I've been out and I'm catching up on a lot of matters right now…
Quackity: Including a statement, that was just now, made without my approval.
Quackity: I've been notified, about an ongoing situation regarding Quackity Studios and I want to address it. Please bear with me as I'm barely catching up on a lot of these matters.
[He sniffles again]
Quackity: One gathering is that volunteers for Quackity Studios: are not being paid and are being given too many hours of activities.
Quackity: I wanna let everyone know that I was aware of a voluntary position, and I was under the assumption that there was a process volunteers would go through, to integrate themselves to the team with a fully paying job. What I was not aware of, is to what extent and conditions were being required from the volunteers.
Quackity: And I wanna thank everyone who brought this to my attention, because it is very clear to me that I need a much deeper involvement in the administrative part of my team. Something I have not been very involved with recently.
Quackity: I'm gonna perform a deep investigation, personally, on this matter as to see exactly what's happening. But one thing is very clear to me.
Quackity: There are going to be very drastic changes in QSMP moving forward. From the administrative perspective, and from the creative perspective as well.
Quackity: My responsibility relies on knowing what is happening in the project I am running. And for not being more involved? I want to deeply apologise. This should have never happened, and I am extremely disappointed.
Quackity: From here on out, I wanna make one thing clear: Everybody involved in Quackity Studios will be paid. And if at any point my own funds are not sufficient enough to pay workers or maintain the project? Then the QSMP cannot continue and it will close down. That's how committed I am to this project.
Quackity: So I wanted to make that extremely, extremely clear as to where I stand on this.
[Quackity in the next line sounds choked up]
Quackity: And this…n-next topic is very difficult for me to process, and it's an extremely sensitive thing, and I was waiting for the correct time for me but…that can wait, no longer. And I need to let everyone know that Wilbur is no longer a part of the QSMP.
Quackity: Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their patience. This…year…has been very turbulent…for me. And I'm going to be very open; it's been one of the saddest years of my life.
Quackity: I'm trying to move forward and give everyone the best version of myself, and I'm very, very sorry if I've disappointed you.
Quackity: But…nonetheless, I gotta keep moving forward and I'm gonna keep working hard and I'm going to do what's right. And I wanna make this very clear.
Quackity: So thank you everyone. And um, yeah, I hope everyone has a good night. Thank you.
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And I saw sparks —
1.2k Words,, Lucifer x reader
a/n — So this was actually a request at some point but it was literally lost to the tumblr void. I cannot find it for the life of me but it had to do with brushing Lucifer’s feathers so here we are.
summary — Date night for the reader and Lucifer quickly turns into a bonding session where the reader grooms Lucifer’s unkept and touch starved wings.
warnings — Fluff, gn reader, obnoxious flirting, getting together (officially), Lucifer being touch starved and sad.
Lucifer groaned as he tried uselessly to comb the feathers on his far back. He didn’t know if he had enough time to finish pruning when he started, and now, barely a third done, he was sure he didn’t.
His third date with you was in ten minutes. In ten minutes you would show up at his door and expect a fully prepared, well put together, king of hell to sweep you off your feet.
How could he do that when he couldn’t even brush his own damn feathers? What are you going to think when you see him? Maybe, he thought, you’d simply scoff and leave him totally alone with poorly groomed wings.
How pathetic would that be? He grumbled to himself, dreading the last few moments he had to prepare. What was it now, six minutes? If he’s lucky, eight.
Lucifer was so wrapped up in these pessimistic thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind him as he scrambled and whined over his knotted feathers.
“Lucifer, you okay over there?” You asked from the door way.
He jumped back, brush getting caught up in the fluff of his wings and yanking two feathers out, making him let out a yelp and fall over.
“Jesus christ, Luci—“ you laugh going over to help him up.
A blush spread across his cheeks. “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon,” he explained brushing himself off, “Wait how did you—“
“You left the door open and I heard very loud groaning so—“ You gesture to him, “—I thought i’d figure out where it was coming from. Oh, and you being demon royalty and all, I don’t think you should just leave your door open like that.”
He could tell you were joking and he was overjoyed that your attention hadn’t fallen to his exposed wings yet, so he played along.
“Actually, i’d argue that’s the very reason I can leave the door open,” he puffed his chest in his attempt to gloat his power.
This backfired when your gaze drifted to his roughly unkept feathers. Embarrased, he drew back.
“Uh, I was just finishing brushing them. They’ll be going away now, bye bye feathers,” he awkwardly laughed and rambled as he turned around him to hide his wings.
“Wait, if you’re trying to groom them then,” your hands hovered over the wings before retrieving the brush from the table, “I can help with that. I had a friend way back when who—“
“Nononono,” he chirped, scooting back slightly, “I’m supposed to be taking you out and— and I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Lucifer, it’s seriously no trouble. Shit, if anything it’s fun. Let me see,” you gently sit him down and take a seat on the floor behind him.
Your hands find his feathers and begin combing through the unkept bits Lucifer couldn’t reach himself.
He tried with all of his might to stop his wings from flapping about. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel incredibly soothing having someone else care for his sensitive wings.
“Oh god,” he sighs, letting his head fall back slightly as you work your way through his feathers. He collected himself seconds later, not wanting to seem weird, “Sorry, it’s just been a while since anyone’s…”
He trailed off so you took pity and finished the sentence for him, “No, it’s okay. It’s cute how flustered you get over shit like this, anyways.”
Your teasing smile makes his shoulders tighten and his head snap back in your direction, “I am not flustered,” he corrected, cheeks reddening, “maybe just discombobulated.”
“Uh huh,” you grin, “Of course, your highness. Are you too good for a little flirting, now?”
“Oh, Lucifer Morningstar is never not ready for a little flirting,” he smirked, trying to hold himself together under your gentle touch.
“Oh yeah? Hit me with your best line.”
“I—“ He struggled, “Uhm. Okay, well maybe I’m a little rusty.”
You rake your fingers through his feathers once more, softening them to the touch, “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that the king of hell had game.”
“I do ‘have game,’ excuse you,” he did air quotes with his hands, “You just put me on the spot. It doesn’t help what you’re doing with my wings, either.”
His snobbish royalty tone was alarmingly present and he had his arms crossed as he pouted.
It’s true, usually, Lucifer was quite the flirt. If there’s one thing he knew about himself is that he was a hit with the ladies, in his experience, at least.
But maybe it’s because you’re the first person he’s been on a date with since Lilith. Or maybe it’s the way you’re softly raking your fingers through his knotted feathers. Either way, it was making his brain feel fuzzy.
“I’ll believe when I see it, Luci,” you laugh to yourself.
“Oh, i’ll get you good when I catch you off guard, believe me.” Lucifer bragged.
After a moment, the laughter died down as you focused on your work. Every now and then you drew long content sighs from Lucifer.
Although you seemed happy enough with the silence, Lucifer squirmed uneasily. He felt guilt build up in his stomach.
“So this is some date, huh? Curtesy of the King of Hell, you’re welcome,” he said glumly, picking at a scratch in his marble floor, “Sorry I couldn’t have made this more enjoyable.”
You caught him off guard with a deep, warm-hearted laugh. The kind that made him else feel like he’s missed a totally obvious joke or reference.
“What’s so funny?” Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed by your response.
“Luci, we’re in literal hell. Compared to everyone else in shit-hole, you’re one of the better people I’ve dated.” You smiled, freshening up a few feathers, “There, done. Good as new.”
Lucifer grabbed a mirror from off the table and examined your work before realizing what was just said.
“Dating?” his spirits rise, hands coming up to his chest before turning to you, “Are we dating?”
The surprise on your face makes him smile cockily. “Catch you off guard, with that one?” he brags.
“In your dreams,” you recover quickly, “And, yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” You look at his expectant face, he grinned brightly.
“Well, you heard it yourself, pretty boy. It seems like we’re dating now,” you laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb.
Completely dumbly, he giggles and leans in your touch.
“Wow,” he simply says. He rests against your hand for a while longer before you pull him in for a kiss.
It’s gentle and sweet while it lasts, and when you break apart, you pepper kisses on his cheeks and nose.
“Stop it, stop!” he laughs as you come to another finish on his lips. “So, uh, do you still want me to take you out?”
“Actually, where’s your tv in this place? Let’s watch a movie, instead.”
And so you do, cuddled up on the couch together with Lucifer’s newly groomed wings draped over you both.
He nuzzled into your chest, desperate for human contact after being alone for so long. And oh, he was especially glad he was getting it from you.
a/n — Was listening to sparks by coldplay ON REPEAT while writing this, so that’s why the title is like that <3
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“Hello?”
“Fuck, I needed to hear your voice.”
The triple header had been hard. A lot harder than either of you anticipated. You would’ve thought that after spending the whole summer break together, three weeks apart would have been fine and doable—but it was proving to be otherwise.
It hadn’t even been two weeks since you last saw each other and Lando genuinely thought he was losing his mind. Maybe he was clingy. Maybe he had separation issues. Maybe he just really missed having his girlfriend by his side after being spoiled with such for four weeks straight.
He wasn’t sure which one it was, but he missed you in a way that made his chest feel tight and a little part of him ache whenever he remembered you weren’t waiting for him whenever he got out the car.
And even with you being back in the UK and him being around Europe, the time difference wasn’t enough for him to be completely isolated from talking to you. But it didn’t make him feel much better being away from you.
You snorted, biting back a yawn. “We spoke this morning.”
“No, you sent me a voice note this morning,” he corrected, settling back against the headboard like he could finally relax. “There’s a difference.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s in the rulebook,” he answered nonchalantly. “Can’t argue with the rulebook, baby.”
“I am not awake enough to decode your weird messages,” you mumbled, your words interrupted by the yawn you were desperately trying to hold back.
His brows furrowed together as he pulled his phone back to look at the time. “Were you asleep? Baby, it’s only five.”
“It was a nap,” you defended.
“You won’t sleep properly tonight,” he retorted, a little light-hearted and teasing because if anyone was more likely to sleep anywhere at any time regardless of the circumstances, it was you.
“I already can’t sleep without you here,” you confessed in a muttered response, and the tightness in his chest returned.
He could imagine it so clearly. You would be buried under the duvet, laying on his side of the bed like you usually did when he was gone. Your face would be nuzzled into his pillow, basking in the lingering scent of him. The house would be too hot and you were probably prancing around in just a pair of panties and one of his hoodies, because wearing them comforted you like he was right there hugging you.
And he could just imagine slipping into the bed behind you, pressing up against you and enjoying the lazy kisses you would exchange because you were half awake but needy for his touch. Fuck, he missed how needy you were for him.
The pathetic whines you’d let out when his hands would explore your skin. The choked out gasp when his palm cupped your pussy, the heel of his hand pressed against your sensitive clit. The soft moan you would let out when he finally slid inside you, feeling the way you clenched around his cock. And the little high-pitched whimpers you would let out just before you—
“Lando?”
He blinked, his cheeks burning at just how quickly his mind ran south before he even realised. But you did that to him. You were nothing but a slippery slope for him and his dirty thoughts.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, shaking his head a little as he focused on your voice on the other side of the phone. “What were you saying?”
“You seemed lost in thought,” you murmured, your voice a little lower and rougher, like the sleepiness was still clinging onto you. “What’s on your mind?”
You.
You were on his mind. The fact he knew the exact fucking state you were laying on his bed in, in his clothes. The fact your voice was a little husky as you spoke into his ear. The fact it had been almost two weeks since he had touched you and he was starting to lose his goddamn mind. And the fact he just couldn’t help himself anymore.
“Nothing,” he breathed out as his hand slid over the bulge forming in his sweatpants. “Just…stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Fuck, it was like you knew what he was doing.
“It’s not that interesting,” he blurted out quickly, his head falling back against the headboard as he squeezed his length through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Tell me about your day.”
He just wanted to hear your voice. He needed to hear your voice. He just needed to pretend that you were sitting beside him, that you were actually there with him and your voice in his ear. Maybe he could even pretend his hand was yours, that it was you stroking and teasing him right now whilst you spoke.
“Baby,” you murmured before letting out a slightly breathless laugh. “Do you not think I know what you’re doing?”
He froze. “What?”
“You’re practically panting in my ear,” you said to him, and for a second Lando wondered if it freaked you out. If you were going to call him out on the fact it was a little perverted that he was teasing himself to the sound of your voice without telling you.
“Babe—” he started, his hand still moulded around his hardening cock, the outline now prominent and obvious.
“My poor baby just wishes I was there to make him feel good, huh?”
He swallowed harshly. “So fucking bad.”
“Yeah?” You hummed, and he could just imagine the mischievous smile on your face. “Like I did on the boat on holiday? You loved that. Maybe a bit too much.”
“Shit,” Lando hissed, his free hand pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down until they were pooled above his knees. His cock bounced free, hard and tip-swollen and so desperate for you. Always for you.
“I think about that day a lot,” you continued as you let out a wistful sigh. “I think about how pretty you looked when you were begging for me to touch you. You sounded so pretty, baby, it made me so wet.”
Lando let out a pathetic whimper, his eyes fluttering shut as his thumb teased the head of his cock, just like you had done that day on the boat. All of your shared friends on the other side of the boat and there you were, on your knees as you teased and taunted him until he blew a load all over your tits.
He imagined he was back there, sun beating down on him and his hands tangled in his own curls as he tried—and failed—to bite back his moans. The way you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking and licking him until he was bucking up into you. The way you took him so well, letting him hit the back of your throat until he was a babbling mess underneath you.
Fuck, what he would give to have you with him now to recreate that day.
“I just wish we had enough time for more that day, baby,” you confessed in a breathy whisper. He imagined the duvet was pushed off your body, that you had pushed your panties to the side as you ran your fingers along your soaking cunt. “I wish we had enough time for you to fill me up, Lando, just wanted to feel you come inside me.”
“Oh fuck,” he whined as his tempo increared, dribbles of precum running down his cock as he listened to your breathy moans and filthy words through the phone.
“I wish I was there right now, let you fill me up all nice and good, baby,” you whimpered into the phone, your breathing a little heavier as you approached your release. “Fuck, I wanna feel you inside me, Lando. I need to feel you deep inside me.”
Lando let out a mixed sound of pain and pleasure as he came, his vision dotted with white spots as he felt the pleasure and ecstasy run through his body. He came in short spurts, his release now all over his thighs and stomach, and something in his chest tightened at the sight. If you were there, he could almost imagine the way you’d tease him before leaning down to clean up the mess with your tongue.
“I miss you,” he choked out, his chest heaving with the strength of his own orgasm as he tried to battle the immense desire he had to have you in his arms at that very moment. “I miss you so fucking much.”
“I miss you too, baby,” you murmured, your voice sounding as sleepy as it did earlier. “Just one and a half more weeks. Soon.”
“Soon,” he repeated with a sad smile on his face, unaware of the plane ticket in your possession that would get you in his arms in less than twenty-four hours.
.
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Hi this is my first time requesting! Can you write a Damian Wayne NSFW where it’s my first time meaning the family he is stressed out and needs relaxing. (But the bat fam is home for the holidays) so no noises. I hope this makes sense!! Thank you so much love your writing!!!
— 𝓣𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ✧!! eng.
older!damian wayne x fem!reader
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble. porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, fingering, p in v.
𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.
𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I'm so tired with college that I didn't even have time to proofread it properly. An apology for that ;(
For a long time, Wayne Manor was the home of several people who, as they grew up and matured, moved on to other places to perform their duties as vigilantes. As a result, the mansion has had three primary owners: Bruce and Damian Wayne, as well as Alfred Pennyworth, the mansion's butler, now considered part of the family. Meanwhile, the others came and went on the grounds of the mansion. Holidays were one of the most important times when the whole family was finally together.
When Damian explained it to you in a simple way, despite not being a member of the detective clan, you could easily deduce how stressful it would be for your poor boyfriend to have the whole family at home for a week or two; so you offered to go and keep him company. Unfortunately, you never thought he would take you up on your offer.
It was the moment you found yourself on the huge bed in his room that you realized how stressful this situation would be for Damien. His face reflected incredible discomfort as he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips.
You couldn't help but feel assaulted by the fleeting physical beauty that young Wayne possessed. Aside from the fact that only a towel encircled his waist, leaving the line of defined abs completely exposed, every inch of his body with such masculine features stood out when he showered...and when he was in a bad mood.
In a bad mood as it is now.
He hadn't said a word since he came out of the bathroom. He just walked over to where you were lying and moved in until he was completely on top of you, so close that you could not even move your body without running the risk of brushing an inch of his skin.
Immediately, he moved closer until his lips reached the exposed skin of your neck. You longed for his warmth, but you were still afraid that someone might hear you with so many people in the mansion.
— Damian... someone might hear us — You told him quietly as you tried to pull his lips away from your face.
— That's not a problem... — He said, admiring you with his deep green eyes. — Only if you know how to keep quiet.
The seriousness of his words sent an electric current down your spine. Your heart pounded against your chest and quickened as you felt Damian's breath on your pants and soon the sound of the zipper coming down.
Not long after that, he was so deep inside you that he had to cover your lips with his hand to keep you completely silent.
You knew it was a bad idea. You did it mostly because Damian needed it to relieve his stress, but sooner or later the pleasurable sensation deep in your stomach that prevented you from making a sound would suffocate you.
A finger slipped between your wet lips to give you some kind of incentive. He slid his thumb around your throbbing clit, leaving you stunned and breathing fast, so close to cum that even the gentle touch began to feel sensitive.
Later, he moved the hand that was silencing your sounds away from your face, but when the air hit your lungs again, he came closer and stuck his tongue deep into your mouth and gave you an embracing kiss.
— Shh, it's okay, beloved. You can do this. — He murmured, admiring you with malice reflected in his eyes.
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compilation post of commentary youtubers talking about dream, no drummyaches edition !
note, i might not exactly like 100% of the things said in these videos BUT they ultimately redeemed dream to a very large audience
starting with i think is the most viewed video right now, Will Dream's Response Actually Fix Anything? by Lessons in Meme Culture. it's 2:40 minutes long and the point is simply to open conversation about him being able to successfully redeem himself, but it has a lovely comment section if you want to scroll through that
Dream Just Responded To Everything by AugustTheDuck, had already spoken about Dream pretty positively, lovely guy, lovely summary [ touches earpiece the main studio is telling me august actually was a dream hater but turned around recently, so noting that down ]
Dream's Response was Perfect, But... by EntLaiser, who previously made a video actually speaking negatively of Dream, completely changed his opinion and talked about how meme culture is being used to justify mass harassment, along with being nice to Dream stans and defending them
Pyrocynical made a video. its bad. don't watch it. he gets cooked in the comments though so that's okay. Acheeto also made a video but i don't like the guy so i'm not linking that either, but it was a good video
Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by sensitive soci3ty. i really like this video but i especially like the comments that bring up a lot of great points, it was refreshing scrolling through them
LIES! by Omni. Omni is really big on the commentary community so his input is valued, this video is long and goes through a lot of unrelated stuff because it's a news segment, but i linked to the timestamp he talks about Dream. it is long, it is thorough, he READS THE DESCRIPTION which i haven't seen anyone do, pretty good
Dream Might Actually Be Innocent by Saverino. this guy is like, the perfect representation of "i only consumed Dream content through social media for years", the most passive onlooker in the world. and his video is awesome, he took a lot of notes, he resumed Dream's video pretty well, and i feel the way he thinks of Dream is how people will look at dream from now on
Dream Finally Responded by Dolan Dark. it's a slob but it's fucking Dolan Dark and he says he believes he's innocent so who cares W for us
other creators we already know and knew they believed Dream, Hot Sauce Beats did a live reaction and so did Nate Alyn if you'd like to go and support them
Dream's Response Was Actually Good by Saamuel. dream hater admitting he was wrong. all is good in the world
Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by Optimus. don't watch this video lol. he says a bunch of stupid shit, his comments call him out for it, but i am linking it because this guy is huge on the community, a lot of people were waiting on this video on twitter, and he's very clear on saying the allegations are fake, along with shaming twitter antis for their behaviour
Dream's Response Wasn't Good Enough by luhrix specifically talks about the reaction from antis on twitter to the video and how unreasonable some expectations are when it comes to responding to allegations
Does Dream's Response Make Him Innocent? by Blissolic who VERY BRAVELY calls out coyglone ( the guy behind the dreamwastalen account ) for being a piece of shit
Dream Responded... by Repzion. excellent video no notes, less about dream himself and more a critique of how people consume serious topics as "drama" and farm engagement through it
I Was In Dream's Video by orangepeanut. it's kind of ass but he is in dream's video ! he's the "dream sucked his own dick" guy. he says sorry for baiting and actually apologises to dream which is kind of funny, and he does say dream is innocent. just noting it down for reference
Dream's Response Was GREAT! by TekuToji. another excellent video, nice summary. he did thought the poki xqc dms were real but he corrected himself on the comments lol
Dream Has Returned ( and why you should be excited ) by PurpleMatter. sweet video ! go leave a nice comment :D
this is a different one as it is a full reaction, but it is by Kenji, a VERY famous vtuber, and he was awesome about it and called out his chat several times when they spoke misinformed shit. it's very fun and i'm glad a completely different audience now has a positive view of Dream
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This translation may not be 100% correct, I'm sorry for the mistakes, both English and Japanese are not my first language 😭
A little context:
studying abroad, you and your boyfriend live in different countries and it's been a while since you've last seen each other. Missing you terribly, he calls you very early in the morning.
00.02
Listening to your voice like this, it really feels like you're here beside me so for me not being able to touch you directly is... really hard.
00.15
Hey, right now... You're in your room right? Is there anyone else there?
(You tell him, "I'm alone.")
00.24
I see... Well then... For now, why don't you replace me with your hand instead?
(You say, "I don't get what you're saying.")
00.35
You don't get what I'm saying? *chuckles*
00.38
I mean, the hand that you're not using to hold the phone right now... It's free, right?
00.42
Think of it as my hand.
00.45
Let's see...
00.47
For starters, try touching your own lips.
(You hesitate.)
00.54
Come on, don't be so embarrassed, hurry up.
00.59
Your soft lips... Touch them. *kisses*
01.07
Hehe, didn't it feel like I just kissed you? (referring to both the kissing sound he made and the way you touched your lips with your hand)
(You say, "Yes.")
01.14
Right? Then, next is... Try touching your neck.
01.22
Try to imagine that that's my hand, okay? If you think of it like that, you'll feel a little sensitive.
01.28
Do it more gently. Touching it or not, you can do whatever you like.
(You say, "It's embarrassing.")
01.39
It's not embarrassing. It's only me who sees you like this.
(You argue that he's not really looking because he's not there with you.)
01.46
No, I am looking at you. It's shown vividly, the way your face goes all red from the way I'm touching you.
01.59
When I close my eyes, I can really see you.
02.03
Listen, try to remember the day when we first got together.
02.10
That time, I carried you to the bed.
02.16
Come on, you do it too. Lie down on the bed.
(You ask him, "Are you on the bed right now?")
02.20
Yeah, I'm on my bed too.
02.27
You're already on the bed?
(You say, "Yes.")
02.30
Then, close your eyes. Slowly, start unbuttoning your shirt. Imagine it that I'm doing it to you.
02.40
That's right, you're so good...
02.44
Aah, look. I can see your beautiful skin. Your skin is so white, so smooth and soft...
02.57
*breathes in, sighs* You smell so good...
03.04
You can imagine it, right?
03.06
I'm right in front of you now.
03.10
I'll be gentle.
03.15
Keep your eyes closed.
03.18
I'll kiss those adorable eyes.
03.26
Then your neck...
03.32
Your ears too...
03.39
Ah... I want to touch your chest...
03.45
Try to touch your breast in my place.
03.48
Come on, there's only me who sees this.
03.57
As I thought... They're really soft, aren't they..?
04.02
Your nipples... How do they look now? Are they hard?
(You tell him, "It feels embarrassing to do this.")
04.13
It's not embarrassing. It's okay.
04.17
I'm also... hard.
04.26
Hey... Try touching your nipples too.
04.31
Come on, hurry up.
04.36
Is it still soft? Try doing it harder.
04.47
Your voice is so cute... That's right, this is what I've been wanting to hear.
04.57
Hey... I'll kiss your ear so... Try and play with your breasts some more.
05.10
Just like the way you did before. Harder.
05.26
Your cute voice... I want to hear it more...
05.32
Take off your panties next.
05.35
Actually, I'll be happy if you can take everything off.
(You ask him, "Why?")
05.39
Well, because I want to see everything.
05.45
Come on... Hurry...
05.53
Just by listening to those rustling sounds you make, I get so turned-on. I'm wondering if you're naked now...
06.01
You've taken your clothes off?
06.05
Then... So I can see more of you, try spreading your legs.
06.11
Wider. Make it so I can see you clearly.
06.16
Liar. You're not really spreading your legs 'cause you're too embarrassed to do it, are you? I can tell.
06.29
Hey... Show it to me... I haven't touched you down there in a while, so at least, even if we're just imagining it, let me touch you.
06.45
Then... Do it gently.... Even if it's only for a little, it's okay... Try touching yourself...
07.02
Don't put your fingers inside just yet, okay? You can't do it until I say so.
07.12
You can only touch yourself around the edge.
07.16
That's right... Just slowly... rub yourself...
07.31
Hmm? What is it? Don't tell me, you already put your fingers inside...
07.42
What should we do... *chuckles*
07.54
It can't be helped, huh? Well then, gently put your fingers inside...
08.11
Such a cute voice...
08.16
I'm close too...
08.21
Should we cum together then?
09.06
Sorry, it's morning over there, isn't it? I'm sorry for making you do such weird things so early in the morning.
09.16
Yeah, it felt so good... Thank you...
(After this part, there's a conversation where you're telling him to just use your pictures if he wants to jerk off next time and he says, "No, I can't use those precious pics I have of you to masturbate, that's crazy!" but inwardly he admits, "Sorry, truth is, I already used them before." He's worried that you'll start thinking of him as a pervert but you say, "We literally just had phone sex, what are you worried about?"
Then the track got cut short here because Tumblr won't let me upload the full track, but what happens next is you tell him it's okay to use your pictures and you even offer him to send some lewder ones like pictures of you in your underwear and he gulps, "S-seriously?" and you reply, "What, you don't want them?" and he answers, "Yes, I do want them. Very, very much." But then he gets worried if the pictures got stolen and posted online, so he tells you not to do it.)
spoiler for the next track:
You send him some pics of you in your underwear, along with a toy... you know, like a fleshlight... and then he uses it while looking at your pictures 😳
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for me?
18+ only, please!
ellie x f!reader
a/n: hey chat!!!! im star. i finished tlou2 and… i M gonna cry. i need more. i need more BADLY. i need more of this right now………… tlou3 when……….. whenever i hyperfixate it tends to be the Only. thing. i think about. my mind is ONLY that thing and when i’m distracted i feel like i’m trapped and i MUST think about that thing. this is how i am with tlou right now i need more media to consume and i am NOT watching the show.
brief summary: jackson!ellie wants some alone time, but silly you (the roommate) just can’t/won’t give her any! thank god for dina for distracting you while she takes this moment of grace. little does ellie know, no one can distract you for that long.
tw / solo masturbation, mutual masturbation, y/n usage, spanking as punishment, porn no plot, switch?ellie
intentional lowercase. not proofread, probably won’t ever be proofread.
˚。𖦹☆°‧⋆
it had been a long day, and some relaxation was all ellie had needed. being with you was a hassle, constantly having to correct you, tell you off, or to make you stay put. truth be told, you were a brat. you hardly listened and all on purpose. it’s why she took up so many openings for patrols and missions; being with you was annoying.
luckily for her, you were off with dina somewhere. ellie had confided in her daily, talking about how much of an “annoying bitch” you were. maybe you were, but there was method to your madness. see, you had liked being such a brat. ellie was so quick to anger and you simply loved it. she could tell, of course, that mischievous glint in your eye always giving it away. it only served to piss her off even more, which in turn made you more excited, and her more angry until she stormed off with a string of curses and f-you’s leaving her mouth.
but, for now, she can enjoy some peace and quiet in the confines of your shared home.
“fuck,” she sighed out to herself, plopping onto her full-sized bed. she relished in this newfound silence for a moment, something impossible to do with you around. she spoke, quiet and briefly to the air around her, “thanks, dina.”
she released another breath of air and glanced at the front door. she should be fine. her fingers inched close to the button of her jeans and she thought for a moment. she was pent up, having not been able to do anything with anyone for months and months and even more months. on the other hand, is this really how she wanted to spend her alone time which she rarely got? yes.
ellie didn’t do this too much, just when you were asleep every other night. okay, maybe she did it a lot, but, can you blame her? she’s a horny girl, and you can’t really rely on other people to do this sort of thing with; they’re all busy and exhausted! it’s the apocalypse for god’s sake.
ellie’s fingers finally concluded that yes, she wants it. they fumbled with the button - just for a moment - until it eventually popped free. with her right hand, the zipper came down; her thumbs hooked around both the hem of the jeans and her underwear and she tugged them down, revealing her trimmed curls on her pubic mound. her eyes flickered around once more, just out of habit, before her middle finger met with the hood of her clit. she teased it with gentle circles, waking it up for arousal.
“shit,” she whispered out loud, feeling her her pussy begin to drool. her eyes fluttered when her fingers picked up pace, rubbing tightly and yet gently on her sensitive bud. her brows raised and she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth while she hid a moan. her free hand slithered up her shirt, grabbing at her hardened nipple and rolling it between her index finger and thumb. “oh, fuck…”
it was all going fine and dandy, just perfect for her. one hand fingering at her clit, the other massaging her breasts, and the thought of you clouding her mind. hold on - catching herself, her eyes shot open. she just caught herself masturbating to you. you and your bratty attitude, that same bratty attitude that deserved so much punishment which you’ve been lacking. she put her lips in a thin line, shutting her eyes, and let her mind drift once more back to you. she imagined your vulva, exposed and dripping for her, tormented with a lack of touch. she imagined her hands meeting your ass in a violent confrontation, spanking you and bruising your poor skin as punishment for your stupidity, your purposeful brattiness and ignorance. her fingers became faster.
“such a stupid girl,” she mumbled in a moan, two of her fingers meeting her g-spot, “…f-fuck… bet you like- like gettin’ spanked… oh, y/n…” she moaned out, not caring as your name slipped from her pink lips. “…y/n, please… i need you…” she fell further and further into her arousal, your name escaping her lips in a hurried frenzy; a string of pleads and curses left her throat willingly.
and yes, here it came, the peak of her pleasure. she quickly brought her other hand, which was massaging her breasts, down to her clit, furiously rubbing it whilst the other pumped into of her.
“y/n, please,” she begged this imaginary version of you. “please, let me cum, y/n, oh god, please, please…” she imagined your moans, all too real as they begged alongside her.
“ellie,” you would moan so silkily and beautifully as you touched yourself the same way she was. “ellie, i’m so close…” you’d make such intoxicating noises as you fucked yourself with your fingers. she was practically drunk on just her imagination.
“oh, god, i’m cumming, y/n, i’m cumming,” she dragged out, her body shaking as her clit throbbed and pussy clenched around her fingers.
“ellie,” you said hesitantly and watched her eyes shoot open. a gasp left her throat and her legs shut. she yelped your name and you shut the door behind you. “i- uh, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to- i- uh- i didn’t know you felt that way… about… uh… me. ellie…” you stuttered, slowly, so slowly making your way closer to the frozen girl. “…ellie, i’m…” you inched a little closer, your hand finding one of her knees.
this isn’t happening, ellie thought. you weren’t spreading her legs right now, your fingers weren’t trailing down her inner thighs, and they definitely weren’t grazing her wet folds.
“ellie,” you whispered, “ellie, let me touch you.” she found herself nodding, her hips rolling into your touch. “you’re so pretty.” your fingers slipped easily into her cunt, curling and massaging her g-spot. “i’ve always thought about you,” you admitted in a whisper, deep into her ear. the heel of your palm scraped against her clit whilst your fingers thrusted in and out her slick pussy.
“f—uck,” she groaned, her own hands gliding down your body, feeling for you. her hand came down on your ass hard, making you jolt.
“ellie!” you yelped as she pushed you away. you landed on her stomach, whimpering as you felt your jeans get pulled off your body, exposing your flesh to ellie’s needy gaze.
“you’re such a-“ she gave you a harsh spank, “such a goddamn brat. always botherin’ me… fuck, look at this pretty ass,” she moaned and her hand collided once again with the supple flesh of your bottom. she kissed the nape of your neck and your sounds filled her ears, soft whimpers and purrs intoxicating her. her fingers met with your wetness, so easily finding their way inside you. “god, you’re so wet.” her fingers were only there for a moment before flipping you onto your stomach.
both your hands explored each other, needing and wanting. her fingers once again found your heat, as did yours on hers. both of your rhythms matched each other, hurried and furious.
“ellie, give it to me,” you whimpered, eyes doe-like and pleading. she couldn’t resist your perfect gaze, her fingers curling and pumping into you. “yes, god, yes,” with your voice filling her ears and your fingers continuing to thrust her, she came again. hard. she leaned forward, falling against your body even as her fingers idly worked inside you. her walls clenched around your fingers and her lips kissed at your neck.
“y/n,” she purred, the squelching noises of your cunt echoing throughout the room as you grew wetter and wetter. “y’got a tight lil pussy,” she said with her jaw slightly slack, “all wet. just for me? huh? for me?”
“yes,” you whined, “yesyesyesyes, ellie! ellie!” she giggled lazily as she watched you cum so desperately on her fingers. your arms wrapped around her body, pulling her toward you.
“that’s it, th—ere ya go,” ellie encouraged, slowing her fingers’ movements as your orgasm subsided. you panted hard, holding ellie close.
“oh, ellie…” your voice carried. her hands grazed up and down your sides as you relished in the afterglow. so pretty and perfect.
“one more time. for me?”
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Fix my reputation
Pairing: young Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: You and Coryo are together for mutual benefits, he needs a well known woman by his side to look reliable and loving during the presidential elections and you need your reputation to be fixed after your unforgivable scandal.
Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, fake dating, arranged marriage, manipulative/soft Snow, strong and independent reader (as she should), fluff, angst, power play. eventual: smut, fingering, thigh riding, switching sub/dom, degradation, denied orgasm, piv, dirty talk, overstimulation, oral (fem/male receiving), praising public sex
Chapter 1, chapter 2;
aesthetic chapter one, aesthetic chapter two;
Tw: Snow being Snow, mention of alcohol, panic/anxiety attack, eventual: mention of blood
Word count: 6.7k
Note: English is not my first language so if you see mistakes please feel free to correct me in the comments! It is also my very first time posting here on tumblr, I’ve always wanted to post my writing and finally I am now brave enough to do so, enjoy!
You hated that man.
If there was something you were sure about, it was that you didn’t want to be here with him, at the same table having lunch. You could feel his perking blue eyes staring into your soul even though he was not looking at you, he was meticulously cutting an apple with his long fingers and a shiny knife.
How did you get here? The man you so wholeheartedly hated, was now part of your life, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt like that apple he was cutting so carefully, peeling your skin, your essence, the way he was holding it seemed he was scared it could run away. You could run away.
The problem was, you would never run away. Run away to whom? To your mother who disclaimed you? To those friends who didn’t help you out? You had no choice. Now the only thing you had was your reputation ruined for a fatal mistake that could have been avoided. That was not enough, the only way to clean your image was to be with Snow. The charismatic, intelligent and kind Coriolanus Snow. Or this was what people said about him. What The Capitol said about him.
You didn’t think the same. You knew who he really was, you saw what they couldn't see. He was evil, he was the one who got the games so popular with his ideas, the one who didn’t mind sending children to death.
You and Coriolanus had only one thing in common. Maybe two or three. One of them was that you both needed each other’s influence in society for different interests. His strategy to win the elections included a woman by his side to make him look reliable and sensitive, but he mostly planned on taking advantage of your popularity to make his own name. You, on the other hand, just needed someone who could clean your reputation after a little incident.
Who better than the master manipulator Coriolanus Snow? You weren’t thrilled with the idea of spending time with him. But it was going to be just for once. The gala before the official beginning of presidential elections, the most awaited event in the Capitol.
The agreement was playing the part of two lovers who not by chance people already knew, his name was well known. Yours? Still on the news. It was just a ball, you could do a night of pretending.
“Tigris said you haven't tried your dress on yet,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, and you looked in his direction to see his expression.
He still had the apple in his hands and he was cutting it in half-moon shapes, he took one bite in his mouth and he directly stared at you while chewing. You tried to hide your disgust as Snow's eyes met yours, his smile sending chills down your spine. It was as you had imagined, or even worse, you felt his blue eyes dissecting you in pieces, like he was examining you, looking for your deepest secrets. You knew that staying calm and composed in his presence was crucial.
“I don’t want to, it fits me.” You didn’t even look at that dress, it was even sent to your house but you refused to open the box knowing that he chose it.
“I hope it will,” Coriolanus didn’t take his eyes off of yours. “At least try to read how you should answer the questions, many people will be there,” he then said while standing up from his chair. His tall frame loomed over you, and you couldn't help but shiver under his intense gaze.
“Are you giving me homework to do now?” you said, looking up at him.
“I’m simply providing you with some advice,” his voice tinged with subtle amusement. “Oh, you think it’s going to be simple after all you did? “The Capitol won’t forgive you easily,” then he walked away, leaving you alone in the dining room.
This day felt longer than ever. The morning before you had received a letter from Snow’s manor telling you that someone was going to pick you up to prepare you for the event. It was signed by his publicist, Iris. You met her a couple of times before: a well dressed woman who knew too much about anyone's business in the Capitol. It was her idea to have lunch with him, “just to get to know each other more,” she said, but for you it was just a reminder of his real personality. They even gave you a room for the day, two chambers away from his, quoting Iris’s letter “this way you can feel comfortable,” you thought she was too attentive and kind to work for someone like Snow.
Iris was the one convincing you to take part in this gala, she explained to you that someone cherished like Coriolanus would draw the attention away from the scandal. You two just had to pretend to be together, “the Capitol loves unexpected new couples,” the publisher said to you the first time you saw her, “the young aspiring president and the woman everybody talks about.” Iris was convinced that this way Coriolanus was seen as the devoted partner who wasn’t afraid of your bad reputation, and you as the woman ready to rise from the ashes.
You ran into your room and slammed the door so loud you hoped he could hear you. You found a big envelope on your bedsheets, and you hoped it was some sort of -hey remember the incident? It’s not your fault, everything it’s okay!-thing, but unfortunately, it was not a free pass to the world. It was a sheet listing all possible answers to some questions you might be asked today at the gala. It was like a script to follow to save your face, to look good in front of the cameras, in front of the-very-judging-elitè. In that sheet, you could find any imaginable question they could ask, where your dress was from or who your family were.
“Did you do that on purpose?” It was one of the questions, and you thought this was something Snow would ask you. He didn’t say a thing about what you did, in the few times you talked he never asked you directly about the scandal. He could have wanted explanations, the real version of the story from you, but he never said a word. You read the answers on the sheet, and they were all perfectly written, so meticulously explained using the Capitol-vocabulary, elegant words and a candid tone.
“How did you meet Mr. Snow?” Your heart skipped a beat, you didn’t consider being asked about your fake relationship with him, it was all new to you.
“…it was love at first sight, who couldn’t love an extraordinary man like him, I immediately fell in love.” You had to read the full answer twice to be certain you weren’t hallucinating.
You would never have said those words, never in a billion years, not even under torture, of course you were ready to lie, but lying to this level? It was too much. You knew it was him who wrote this answer, you imagined the grin on his face while typing those words about him. You were mad. The answers about your dating life with Coriolanus were filled with romantic moments and exaggerated gestures that made you feel uncomfortable reading their unrealistic nature. You tried imagining those things happening in real life, but it felt completely alien and artificial. It was difficult to believe that anyone could genuinely experience those events. With Coriolanus mostly. You read the pages, over and over, a book would have been better because there was too much to read, but instead, you were stuck with a bunch of printed documents detailing your supposed love story.
He also put dates on when things happened: your first date in the lake house in July, the time you had dinner in a fancy restaurant in August and the day you moved in his place. Lies. Lies. Lies. Apparently you officially started dating three months ago. Three? You scrolled over the pages, hoping not to read what you were thinking.
“…after the incident, Coryo was very supportive, always there to comfort and reassure me even though all I did. I felt like I betrayed him too, but he always said we could get through it together, and I found myself falling for him all over again.” You knew none of this ever happened, and yet here it was, staring back at you in black and white. It was as if the words were playing tricks, as if the words were there to pretend instead of simply put on paper.
You sighed and closed the file, feeling a mix of frustration, confusion, and irritation. He was never there for you. Nobody was. You were all alone. After that day, you cried every night, and you were the one reassuring yourself, lying in front of the mirror saying ‘it’s going to be okay’ while your sense of guilt was slowly eating your guts. He wanted to appear like the perfect partner, but you knew the truth. It was all a façade. Deep down, you knew the real him, and it took all your strength to acknowledge the reality. You threw the stack of files on the floor, it was all too much.
You got up from the bed, and you went directly to his room, determined to confront him about the distorted reality that had been painted in those files. You didn’t even knock on his door, and you felt surprised when you noticed it wasn’t locked. You open the door, and you close it from behind, entering the room. He was standing close to his bed, completely oblivious to your presence. It was like he expected you to burst into his room out of nowhere.
“You finally read the file,” he said, looking at his wrist without making eye contact.
He was focusing on buttoning his cuff links, his fingers fumbling with the buttons, his white shirt still open and his blonde hair wet from the shower. His normally confident demeanor was replaced with vulnerability as he waited for your response, the tension thick in the air. It was the very first time you saw him not perfectly dressed up, without styled hair and shiny shoes. The sight of him standing there, so different from his usual self, caught you off guard.
“Yes, I’ve read your fabricated tale,” you said, trying not to look at him, at the droplets of water sliding down his temple, his fingers still struggling with the shirt. “You should have become a fiction book writer, you got talent.”
"I just wanted to impress you," he admitted, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can see I got a reaction from you,” he definitely succeeded in catching your attention, with those iper-articulated lies, not even close to what really happened.
“The agreement was that I won't say anything bad about you, just be by your side as a trophy-fake-girlfriend in this stupid gala, inventing absurd stories won't win my reputation back," you said firmly, crossing your arms.
He reached his desk where there was a glass of some alcohol sloshing around, poured himself a drink and took a long, deep swig. “They won't believe you if you only stand by me like a mannequin, you have to be an active member of their social life, so they can get to know you, sympathize you and maybe forgive you,” he said in a calm tone, you could see his profile while he was again drinking from his glass, his shirt still open that showed his toned body.
You immediately looked away taking a deep breath. “I won't be a part of any false narrative you wrote,” was the only thing that came to your mind.
He scoffed his head, “Just for the period of the presidential campaign, nothing more.”
“Are you suggesting that this ridiculous act is going to take longer than just a day?”
“I know you don’t like me, you just need to pretend you do. I’ll do the same,” he took another sip of that liquor while looking at you, “the publicist said just one appearance at the gala isn’t going to be beneficial to either of us.”
“Why are you telling me this now? The plan was slightly different,” you said
“Oh I knew you were going to be reluctant about the idea of pretending to live here, just for show,” he was serious, his fierce eyes looking at you waiting for a reply.
“I almost tolerated your presence at work, and now you want me to live in the same house as yours?” You asked
“After the gala, they are going to focus on the ‘new couple’, our performance has to be something they really believe in,” he leaned his head at the same height as yours, “we already don’t have that chemistry, at least they are going to think we live together,” Coriolanus said to your ear, his curls brushing your cheek.
“I simply decline your proposal, find someone else.” You said with a fake smile.
“Didn’t journalists harass you every time you left your little apartment? How exhausting, isn’t it?” He whispered in a sarcastic tone, making you remember all those times you ran away from photographers. “I got peacekeepers here, no one is going to bother you anymore, as long as you don’t bother me,” he turned to the desk, placing the empty glass in a tray, “strangers in real life, lovers on the outside.”
“The problem is that I despise you, I cannot do this for one more day,” you couldn’t see his expression, just his white see-through shirt displaying his back muscles.
“No, the problem is that you don’t understand how fucked up your situation is,” he was now facing you, “I know people who were condemned for way less, you are lucky,” his words were sharp as blades.
“Lucky to have you? It’s a punishment,” you said and he laughed.
“Then don’t come at me crying at why people still hate you,” he took a few steps closer to you
“So you can comfort me like you did a month ago?” You asked him pointing out the most absurd lie in that file.
“Oh, so you read every single page, you really did your homework.”
You stood your ground, refusing to be manipulated any longer. He was doing that purposely, just to provoke you, saying those things just to see how far you could take. Coriolanus was looking at you with his piercing gaze, attempting to intimidate you, he expected you to buckle down and crumble in front of him, but you would never give him such satisfaction, you were already in hell, so why not play with fire?
“Why me?” you asked him, and you saw a sense of surprise in his eyes. “Why, of all the girls in Panem, you decide the only one who can give you trouble?” You took a step closer to his figure, “there are so many good girls from rich families and intact reputations, why me? I’ll just ruin you.” You said, trying to catch his eyes looking back at you. But you could only see his frowning eyebrows, his wet messy hair and a droplet of water trailing down his neck, you were so close to him, you could hear him breathing.
“Everybody knows your name, bad press is still press,” his eyes finally met yours. “You are the center of attention,” he took a step back, as if momentarily distancing himself from the tension. “The presidential elections are extremely competitive, it’s not a race for who’s superior to whom,” he licked his lips, “but who is going to perform better for these people looking for distractions. “We are going to be their little show”
“So tell me Coriolanus,” you stepped closer as you were before. The height difference was such that it made you look up at him, you took one side of his shirt in your hand and you buttoned up with the other, feeling his warm torso on your fingers. "How exactly do you propose to fix my reputation while bolstering your own?” you finished, a sly smile dancing on your lips and your eyes looking for him.
Coriolanus was looking down at your fingers still brushing his skin, he had his lips parted and he softly whispered, “just play the game,” his eyes still fixed on you. He was talking about making everything right again, but it felt like there was something more behind those words.
You stepped back, trying to compose yourself. “I’m just giving them another reason to hate me with this bunch of lies,” you were looking down at the floor when you heard him stepping closer to you. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his eyes on your face.
He lifted your chin with two fingers and made you look up at him, “I’ll make them fall for our lie,” he said, his voice was so deep and calm.
“You are a master manipulator,” you whispered back, looking down again as if the floor was more interesting than the man standing in front of you.
You heard him chuckle, and he leaned closer to your ear, “and I’m going to teach you how to be one too.”
Your first public appearance after the scandal was going to be at this gala. Everything was calculated in detail, the dress you wore had to be long and white, as pure as snow. Your hair had to be loose so it could cover your exposed back, and apparently you had to memorize pages and pages of answers you could give. After your intense conversation in his room you decided to play the game seeing how far you could take, how far you would do to take everything back. He wanted you under his spell, he was trying to shape you how he desired, for his own interests.
“Dear, why aren’t you dressed yet?” The publicist said to you while you were sitting on the smooth sheets of your bed. You had your bathrobe still on, it’s been thirty minutes since you had a shower but you had your head in the clouds.
You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Coriolanus, his wet hair, the words he said to you, his naked torso, his manipulating eyes. You repeat to yourself that he was Coriolanus Snow, and not any man, he probably told you half the strategy he really had in mind. Being with him was like playing chess blindfolded, you had to trust him but he could mess up your moves, change your plans.
“Come here I’ll help you,” Iris said, she seemed like a good person, she had a comforting smile and an elegant manner with everything she did. She was wearing a short coppery-brown color dress, it was shiny as her nails, decorated with tiny gold stones. You took her hand and you stood up, making the bathrobe fall on the carpet. The silk of the dress soothed your skin like a petal, you looked at the mirror and the weak light coming from your window gently reflected on your bright dress, almost making it shine.
“It is really pretty,” you said astonished while turning to see your exposed back. Then your smile disappeared because you remembered it was him who picked the dress.
“You are making it pretty, my darling,” Iris stated as she fastened the zip on your side. It was a simple dress yet delicate and impressive, it embraced the shape of your body effortlessly.
“It is just a little loose here on your waist,” the woman said, touching the excess fabric on your side. You remembered the conversation early this morning when you proudly said the dress fitted you.
“I’m going to tell Tigris to fix it,” Iris said and you immediately looked at her reflection in the mirror.
“No please,” she changed her expression, “it is bad luck to mend a dress the same day it is worn,” your mother always said that to you, maybe it was not a popular saying considering the publicist's face.
She tilted her head with a confused smile as she touched the yellow-butterflies-clip in her voluminous red wig. Now that you were thinking about it, you sewed your skirt the day it happened, ‘it’s just a coincidence, I don’t believe in these things’ you said to yourself, you were not superstitious but at the same time you avoided superstitions, just in case.
“Whatever you want,” Iris said with a soft smile.
You touched your neck and you thought how a shiny pendant would look good. “Iris, do we have some necklace to match this dress?” She stepped closer to you looking at your chest.
“I think you shouldn’t wear any jewelry tonight,” you tilted your head in confusion, “see, today is your first appearance after the,” she paused, “incident.”
“And what is it supposed to do with jewe—“ she didn’t let you finish your sentence.
“You could wear pearls or diamonds but what would the elite think? That you want to appear, that you want to show off,” she walked behind you so you could see her reflection in the mirror. “How you present yourself is the way they perceive you,” Iris brushed your long hair on the side, exposing your neck, “you are wearing a white dress, ‘how pure!’ No diamonds, ‘how modest!’ “try to think like the socialites, once you enter their minds, your act will get a standing ovation”. Her words put everything in a different perspective, she really knew what she was doing.
You heard a knock on the door, “the party starts in an hour!” A muffled voice said from the corridor.
“Thank you Ariandes, we’re almost done!” Iris said in a loud tone.
In less than sixty minutes you had to put on your best mask and try to change the mind of a thousand people about yourself, with Coriolanus by your side, pretending he is your supportive lover. You felt a rush of anxiety on your chest, like a weight pressing against your heart.
“I don’t think I can go,” you whispered with a trembling voice. Iris made a worried look.
“Oh sweety, I can only imagine what you have been through,” she took a lilac glass flask from the desk beside the mirror, “you are a strong woman,” she sprayed a lavender fragrance on your neck and she smiled.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, and with all your strength you tried to keep the tears that threatened to spill over. “Iris, how do I fake being so interested in someone?” You asked, thinking about what was written in that file.
“Have you ever been in love?” She asked with a soft gaze.
You didn’t know the answer to that question, you had a couple of boyfriends in your university years, but were you in love?
“It’s when every atom of your body's only desire is to burn at the mere thought of being with that someone,” Iris looked up, like she was thinking of somebody, you felt even more disoriented with her answer.
You couldn’t identify that feeling with anyone, you’ve never met someone that made ‘your cells burn’. What would that even mean, you thought.
The door opened and you turned your head to see Ariandes, the political advisor, “We gotta go,” he said looking at Iris. The man had his hair pulled back in a long braid, dark as his skin. You walked in his direction and you followed him.
The moment you stepped into the car you felt a sudden tension, it was dark outside, only one side of Coriolanus’ face was lit up by cars passing by. He was wearing a red coat that covered the rest of the outfit, his blonde locks were lightly falling on his temples and you noticed he was wearing a ring on his left index finger.
“Act as natural as possible,” Coriolanus said and he looked at you, it felt like he was inspecting your body and you wished to be in his mind at that very moment.
Was everything going according to plan?
No, you didn’t want to know what it was like to be in his head, it was torturing enough being on the outside.
“I’m not very good at lying,”
‘not as good as you’, you wanted to say.
He looked at you like he read your mind, luckily you couldn’t see his expression. “Don’t be impulsive, smile and never leave my side,” you felt he was giving you orders, “what 's going to happen at the political campaign depends partially on today’s gala.”
“You know, Mr. Snow,” you started “I tried reading your fiction-book but it was so,” you tried examining his face, “unrealistic,” he scoffed and looked the other way, “you want me to paint you as the man you aren’t and never will —caring, affectionate and respectful “I can’t do miracles, people won’t believe my lies forever.”
Coriolanus clenched his jaw, “at least the whole Panem doesn’t hate me,” he said close to your face.
“Yet,” you added, hoping to maintain eye contact one more second.
“And just a reminder,” he said, “without me you would have been at home, crying and begging for forgiveness,” he whispered in a bitter tone in your ear.
“And without me you wouldn’t have the attention you crave so much,” you replied, feeling the tension in the air.
Coriolanus was too close to you, like an animal before hunting his prey, you could see his facial features reflecting the weak light outside. The engine stopped, and the driver opened the car door.
“Mr. Snow” he said and Coriolanus stepped out of the car, he didn’t even look at you.
‘He would slam the door in my face if he could’, you thought.
You took the driver’s hand, helping you get out with your long dress. Coriolanus took his maroon coat off and he gave it to an avox at the entrance. You could see him from his back, he was wearing an ivory jacket and trousers, his suit matched your gown. He calculated every single detail. Unexpectedly, Coriolanus waited for you as you stood by him in the hall, he extended his arm and you looked at him.
“Do I have to?” You asked and you noticed a white rose on his breast pocket.
“It’s just an act,” he replied and you took him by the arm.
Let the play begin.
The ballroom was lit by magnificent chandeliers and the air was filled with whispers and laughter. The atmosphere was comforting and energetic: people with colorful wigs, glitter dresses and sugary drinks. There was not a face you could recognise, it was not what you were used to, even though you have been living in the Capitol for all your life, you’ve never experienced a party like this. You walked through the crowd with Coriolanus by your side, arm by arm, while everybody was looking curiously at your direction. You’ve heard someone saying his name, and something about the girl he was walking with.
Why her? Since when does Snow have a girlfriend? I’ve heard really bad things about that woman.
And there it was, the gossip, the uncertain glances and how they looked down on you. On the other hand, people were praising him.
He’s so charming! White suits him well! Future president of Panem.
You looked at Coriolanus, the warm light was making his eyes brighter, or was it the crowd? He looked at them so proudly, with a confident smile, he was living for that moment, being the center of attention. He met your gaze, then his blue eyes looked at your dress, but not the same way people did.
It felt different.
Was he judging?
Admiring maybe? It was a mystery, nothing was black or white with him.
Coriolanus greeted a couple of his acquaintances, introducing you as his partner, then calling you his date and it once slipped from his lips calling you his girlfriend. And you actually were, in that moment, you had to act as his beloved girlfriend who had a well known bad reputation. He never let your arm go away, he was acting so well, playing the caring boyfriend who couldn’t leave you alone.
“Here they are, the couple of the night!” A loud voice came from behind, it was Flavius Windbuzz, one of the most famous tv hosts in the Capitol. His voice was recognisable from miles away, it didn’t matter if you watched television or not, he was everywhere and it was impossible in Capitol City not knowing his name.
He stepped closer to you with a glowing smile and a glitter microphone, he had his hair gray, more like silver. “Everybody is talking about you, the new Capitol lovebirds,” a camera was pointing at you and your heartbeat was getting faster, everyone stopped talking and stared at you both. “So tell me Mr. Snow, who is this young lady you are showing off?”
“You said it right Flavius, she is my girlfriend,” he did it again, Coriolanus said girlfriend, this time broadcast on tv.
“What a pleasure to meet you,” the host said to you, he took your hand and kissed it. These exaggerated gestures were the usual in this type of parties, especially where a silver-haired-man was interviewing the guests. He asked about your family, if you liked the food —you didn’t touch any but you lied, and who was the designer of your dress, everything as the script said.
“Honey, you are a really interesting woman but I have to ask you something,” Mr. Windbuzz said, “people are talking and it is my job to satisfy their desires. “So tell me, are the rumors true?”
You expected a much worse question, you stopped breathing for a moment and Coriolanus noticed that because you tightened the grip on his arm. “You tell me Flavius, what do the rumors say?” You answered with a soft smile hiding your discomfort.
“I know that during the last edition of The Hunger Games, something really unfortunate happened,” you noticed he had purple contacts on, and that was something that made you even more nervous. “Is it true that you took part in the incident we all saw live on TV?” He asked and you felt like your heart was beating outside your chest.
“It is true,” the crowd gasped, and your pulse increased.
“So tell me, how did it feel when you killed those poor and innocent tributes?” The question was worded differently than what you read on that file.
Killed.
Poor and innocent.
You couldn’t get out of your head their lifeless faces, the foam coming out of their mouths and the sound of the cannon echoing in that room. The hall started spinning, you saw the interviewer’s face, a mix of compassion and concern, as the crowd started whispering more and more you felt your head cold and heavy. The microphone was pointing in your direction but you could not even stutter a syllable, blank pages wandered in your mind and you felt a sense of emptiness. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned your dizzy head to see Coriolanus who started talking for you.
“She was more than devastated, I remember—, ” you saw his lips moving like the time had slowed down and you were not listening to his words, his voice echoed in your ears as you never took your eyes off of him.
His grip on your shoulder tightened and his eyes looked at you as he tilted his head suggesting you both could go away. You followed him even though your ears were still ringing and your sight blurring, Coriolanus was walking too fast so you took his hand in yours or you could really faint on the ground. At that action, he looked at you with a confused stare, his hand grip was firm and steady as he dragged you in the bathroom. After checking no one was in there, he leaned against the door so no one could step in. You stood in front of him, his curls falling on his forehead that was a little sweaty, then he began talking, but the sound of his words were just an intense ring in your ears. He placed both his hands on your cheeks trying to have your attention, and you woke up from your hypnotic state.
“They are just hypocrites, they are the ones who watch The Hunger Games on tv, they send money to help their favorite to kill.” Coriolanus said looking in your eyes, and you started sobbing. “They are not better than you, “stop crying and play their game.”
You felt the warmth of his hands on your skin, he never touched you this way, it was intimate, nothing you could expect from him. For a moment, you brushed your hand with his but he instantly removed it, walking away from your sight.
“He was too indiscreet,” you heard him whisper, “I should’ve expected that from him.”
“No Coriolanus, I should’ve expected this question,” your voice was still trembling, “you said it wasn’t going to be easy, I deserve this, “do you still think this act is a good idea?” You asked him.
His tall figure leaned against the green tiles of the bathroom, he had his hands on his pockets and he was looking down, thinking about who knows what. Now that you were seeing from a distance, he resembled an angel. His white suit, his blonde curls and the perking blue eyes. No, there was nothing pure and heavenly in him. You thought he was probably thinking about how you ruined his plan, how he had to intervene to save your umpteenth failure and he was now calculating another strategy.
‘Not an angel, a fallen angel, the next Lucifer of Panem.’
“The night is still young,” he said while stepping to the door. He didn’t answer your question, was he regretting meeting you?
Everything was as you left it. The party was still going and no one seemed to have noticed your panic attack. That was a relief. You tried distracting yourself, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before. The interview, the crying, his hands on your face. Everything was worse than you had expected. You and Coriolanus were in the hallway next to the massive columns that supported the ceilings, on the other side people were dancing to a classical melody. You wanted to stay there, outside their sight, because to you the dance floor was more like an arena where people were going to attack you.
“Shall we?” Coriolanus extended his hand suggesting to go dancing with him.
“I’m not good at dancing, I could step on your feet,” you hoped it would’ve been enough for him to give up.
“I’ll take the risk.” That was his plan, acting like nothing happened and putting his best smile on to be the charming man everyone adored.
You took his hand, the same hand that wiped your tears off your face was now intertwined in yours. Every time you looked for an excuse to not like him. As if you had to remind yourself that you hated him. Did you? He was dancing with you so naturally, holding you like you had known each other for a very long time, his hand on your waist as if he was used to it. There was nothing evil in him on the outside, and that was the problem.
“I’ve just saved your face, thank me later.”
You rolled your eyes at Coriolanus’ words. “I’m used to humiliations so next time don’t bother yourself.” you replied.
“Oh but I’m not used to it and don’t worry, there will be no next time.” Without a notice, he made you twirl around.
“When will this thing end?” You asked annoyed.
“I hate it as much as you,” he pushed your waist closer to him, this way you were face to face, noses touching.
“What the fuck Coriol—,”
He interrupted you, “for the cameras.”
You turned your head and you saw a bunch of flashes, blinding your sight. Coriolanus leaned over you and your lips were brushing, you couldn’t push him away because of the photographers. You had no time to tell him something, that he kissed you. It was for a second, just one second where your lips touched. It was cold, dry and unexpected. Just like him. Snow by name, snow by nature. If only eyes could talk. You’d probably say to him how you wished you weren’t there, with him, and you wondered what his blue eyes would say to you, probably the same. After that moment, Coriolanus didn’t say a word to you. You were there, smiling at photographers hoping to drop your mask as soon as they’d left.
The rest of the night went according to plan. Flavius interviewed all the future candidates and Coriolanus had the opportunity to make his well prepared speech, he also got invitations from influential members close to the president Ravinstill, not to mention the many sponsor offers he had. At least something was going well, for him though. The ride back home was painful. You and Coriolanus were looking outside the window, his crimson coat was the only barrier separating your bodies.
“Did they ever tell you how bad you are at kissing,” you hated silence so much you could say the stupidest things that came to mind just not to hear your thoughts. You turned your head to see him and his eyes were already on you.
“Mhm, girls usually compliment me for other qualities,” he chuckled, “and then that wasn’t me kissing, remember it’s just for show,” he whispered looking at the driver hoping he wasn’t paying attention.
“Well, no one believed your poor attempt to look in love,” you said and he untied the knot of his white tie.
“I was caught off guard,” he said looking at you, cars speeding in the window behind him, “and I can’t just kiss how I would normally do.”
You tried not to laugh at his words, ‘what would that even mean?’ you thought. “Just try to convince them, because you didn’t even convince me.”
“How should I kiss you then?”
He put his hand on the back of your head, with his thumb brushed your temple and he pulled you closer, his lips touching yours softly. You knew what was going to happen, but you let him do it.
The way he kissed you, like he was starving for your lips, hungry for your taste. Was he the same man that kissed you before? You melted in his touch, his hand slided down your neck, his fingers pressing on your throat, making you shiver even more. He tasted like mint and posca, his hair smelled of roses and his skin was warm under your touch.
Coriolanus pulled away from your lips but you came closer to cut the gap separating you. It felt like an instinct, like you were not satisfied enough and you could feel a sense of heat down your core. He pulled away the coat that was between you and his other hand was now on your exposed back, keeping you closer, his tongue still dancing dangerously with yours as you intertwined your fingers in his locks.
“Coryo” you said between kisses.
He wasn’t intending to stop and neither did you, but you remembered who was the man who was holding you that way, whose hands were making you shiver, whose lips were making you want for more and what nickname you just whined.
“I think we should,” you managed to say, trying to stop yourself from doing something you were going to regret. You broke the kiss, his lips were swollen still too close to yours.
He whispered, "I told you, I can be convincing when needed.”
🦋 A/N: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, let me know what you think in the comments! I’ll probably explain the details of the scandal and how they met next time, it’s way more than you can imagine from here. Also I KNOW there is no smut here, but bear with me, it's a slow burn and trust me in the next chapter I’ll add some ✨ spice ✨. In this first chapter I wanted to set up the atmosphere.
A special thanks to Freddie Mercury and the song “Play the game” that helped me when I was stuck, to the poet Taylor Swift who reminded me of the many ways you can say the color red. PLEASE let me know if you want to be tagged next time 💌
ask me questions here !
@gracieghost36955 @annavatar @ghostlyloversworld @badbussylol @gracieroxzy @coolcatyarb @coriosgf @xxrougefangxx @devils-blackrose @wearemadeofstardust0
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— full bed.
a miguel o’ hara fic ~ 1st part here, not required.
— NSFW miguel o’ hara x fem!reader
you are mayday’s babysitter. miguel insists on drinks after mayday falls asleep and is picked up by peter. for a quick summary, it leaves you in his bed.
\\ quick A/N :: thank you guys for so much recognition recently 😭 im very new to fanfic writing, so i wasnt expecting the nice requests + messages i got. thank u as a whole
quick taglist :: @neverlandlostchild - @hachipachiwachi - @antiliqueorbs
// CWs :: extreme smut, biting, blood. p in v. extra shit at the end. just 3 words of fluff tbh,......
// other notes :: i’m latina myself ! although i am not fluent in spanish, so please correct me if anything is wrong 🎀🎀
“ cariño — honey, dear
miumiulicious 2023.
pain.
you were a little sensitive to it, but overall had a better tolerance for it than other people. obviously, mental pain hurt a lot worse than physical, but — why was the current state of physical pain you were in so pleasureful?
you had never found yourself enjoying something so much, allowing a pleasureful feeling to drive someone else wild, like an animal, as they grew based off of your whimpers. your cries, your shaking body, the tingling sharpness on your neck after dominant marks were placed on it. marks of miguel.
his inhumane fangs would dig abnormally deep into your skin, sucking every last bit of energy out of you — including your supper and sweet blood. the little soft grunts he'd add on after, combined with his aggressive, pessimistic words to you, just made you so crazy.
the mixture of both of your need for this kind of sexual intimacy drove you both insane, so psychotic miguel just couldn't get enough of you. his head had immediately lowered down, even if he didn't get enough of your red liquids from your neck.
his breath was hot against your naked folds, sending chills all over you, goosebumps appearing as teased you. his teasing was so soft, yet so dominant.
"so wet, already, huh?" a once furrowed brow raised on his face as he stared into your eyes, irises swiveling and swirling with only one feeling for how this night would go on — lust.
he dominated you by getting on top, your legs being spread out right in front of his crotch. while his thick hands caressed your face as he spoke, you couldn't make out a word he was saying, your ears almost ringing as your vision felt a little hazy. must of been the thirsty blood withdrawal he performed on you.
you shivered a little as he unzipped his pants, swearing that a cold breeze had just passed by in the room while your eyes widened at his cock size. he was so easily hard, precum already seeping as his grin grew at your shock. this would be fun.
without any explanation or communication whatsoever, he slammed his hips against you, chest leaning over yours as his head redirected to the space on the bed beside yours. his arms rested on the blankets while you couldn't rest at all, your body tensing up, shrieking as your walls clenched around his hard length. your arms instantly wrapped around his wide back, clawing into the skin.
no matter if it was start or finish, miguel's cock had kissed your cervix in all the right ways, but it was so rough, screams escaping your already opened lips. his pace quickened, already nearing his climax as you felt his cock get hard inside of you.
he whispered into your ears clearly, your blurred hearing already being forgotten about. with a low grunt mixed with a seductive whisper, he spoke.
"love my huge cock inside of you, huh? hitting you in all the right ways.." he bit his lip, breath hitching in his throat as he quickened his pounds against your clit. his balls slapped against you, creating the loudest claps you've ever heard in your life. your nails dug further into his back, a natural reaction while your body loosened up just a bit.
"scream, just for me, cariño.." he groaned, combining with your muffled expanded moans. the way his cock abused your walls so roughly just felt the best, no matter the pain level.
"m-miguel.. m' gnna'.." you murmured as his hips bucked against yours, cock sending shock waves of fluids mixed with your own screams through out your body before you orgasmed. he didn't seem to take note of the fluids covering his cock, and quickened his thrusts even further, grunting like an animal — almost loudly whimpering like he was desperate for this pretty clit of yours.
the moment absorbed everything, his breath speeding up just like yours, letting out the most boisterous groans of his life, before he finally climaxed in unison with you — your second orgasm while it was his first.
almost as if he knew this would happen, his length pulled out rapidly, his thick white fluids decorating your chest and stomach like a cake decoration. you let out your last moan, panting as you felt your body finally realize its extreme heat. you felt like you were in a pot of lava, and he could relate.
his body collapsed over yours, cock resting vertically on your clit, rubbing against it a little. sighing, he placed a kiss on your neck, licking the previous wounds as if he was still searching for blood. you winced at this, before he kissed you on your cheek. your hands still held tight onto his back, before he laid next to you like a limp stuffed animal.
"fuck.." he cursed lowly, before tensing up as you wrapped your exhausted arms around him. his eyes widened despite yours shutting calmly, cheek pressed against his rib.
you smiled as his arms shortly wrapped around your back, hugging you in close.
(?) extra ::
before you left in the morning, scrambling out of bed and rummaging through the room for your clothes, miguel had scared you.
you were walking to the kitchen, grabbing your keys and phone, looking around to check if anything, or anyone was there. normally you wouldn't expect yourself to leave so calmly after a hookup with someone who paid you to babysit a child, but you did so, no words mentioned to yourself.
when you turned around, miguel had been standing right behind you the whole time, like an eagle. you were frightened at this, yelping as you stepped backwards into the counter, back slamming into it.
"it's just me, y/n." his eyes blinked like a frog, so groggily yet you still stared into his dark brown circles.
"oh." you murmured, before rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, and without another word he handed a small paper to you.
the paycheck, you thought. what was he even paying me for if he had done all those things with me last night?
you nodded respectfully, not peeping a word as you opened the door to exit his place. you took not even one step foot out of the door before he gripped on your shoulder — a little too tight.
"take it as an appreciation token for last night." he said blankly, not even a wink or a smirk or whatever a pair did after sex. you hesitated to even respond, but instead just nodded like you did before.
he shut the door before waving, a soft smile widening up on his face before the click of the door. you walked out, heading out to travel back to your place, opening up the check steadily.
he had paid you 2x more than your original pay.
a token of appreciation.
A/N :: yayyyy i was so excited to write this for my friends + basically the whole taglist. hope u enjoyed my miguel o'papi writing!!!
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