#(but it is valid for the rest of the tour!)

[excelsior9173]

i know it’s been posted before but i just wanna keep it circulating as people start to look for resale tickets:

only buy your resale tickets through ticketmaster and axs! anything listed on a third party site will not be valid, as the tickets can only be transferred through ticketmaster or axs and their verified resale!! i know how it feels to end up getting tickets you thought were valid and then not getting to see a show- i’d hate to see it happen to anyone else

[luminnara]

Unheavenly Creatures | Feyd Rautha/reader (NSFW 18+)

Summary: Feyd Rautha has taken a liking to you, a handmaiden accompanying your mistress on a diplomatic visit to Giedi Prime. He decides it's time to add another darling to his collection.

Warnings: knife stuff, blood stuff, mentions of murder, sex, a lil cannibalism, sex sex sex, dubcon-ish tones? lots of biting, it's feyd rautha it's not gonna be all sunshine, but he is also not as terrible as canon entirely so idk

Word count: 6k

Check out my feyd rautha playlist!

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty

The Harkonnen palace was a cold place, not in the sense that the air was crisp and you could see your own breath, but rather that the austerity of its halls and monochromatic decor felt positively frigid. As if even the buildings weren’t meant to harbor life on this toxic, forsaken rock anymore. Everything you had seen of Giedi Prime so far had felt the same—stark, brutal, inhospitable. A barren wasteland with blinding white skies and dark acid rain.

And yet, House Harkonnen seemed to thrive beneath the black sun, growing numerous and powerful and rich. Before arriving, you had heard horror stories, rumors of what Baron Vladimir and his nephews were like, none of them pretty. When you had been informed you’d been chosen to accompany your own House’s leaders on a diplomatic trip to the Harkonnen homeworld, you’d considered pretending to be sick to get out of it. Faking your own death had seemed like a valid option at that point.

But with little choice of your own, you were forced to follow along as a handmaiden, and from the moment you set foot on Giedi Prime, you were determined to keep your head down and hope that the meetings went smoothly so that you could return to your own planet as quickly as possible. As you walked dutifully behind your Lady, hands folded and eyes trained on your feet, you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose at the putrid, chemical air, unaware of the dark eyes watching you.

“My nephew, na-Baron Feyd Rautha,” Baron Harkonnen rasped, his voice like dry gravel. His words had you glancing up to finally look at what the Harkonnens considered royalty, and what was supposed to be a quick peek turned into a curious stare. The Baron himself was a large man, and he was levitating, wearing a long black robe that touched the ground even while he was so high above it. Tubes connected him to what you could only assume was some sort of breathing apparatus, a dark, spherical thing floating behind him. Standing behind him to his right was a much younger man, dressed in black and staring directly at you.

You felt a chill fly up your spine.

Feyd Rautha tore his eyes away from you and inclined his head in acknowledgement, looking to your Lord and Lady as formal pleasantries were exchanged. You kept your eyes down once more as you finally moved indoors, where the air was fresh and stale at the same time, and the walls were imposing and cold.

You followed along as your Lady was given the grand tour, a journey that ended at the guest wing. You were shown to your room and all but locked inside, left alone to inspect your temporary lodgings. If the rest of the palace was bleak, this was entirely featureless—a single boring bed sat in the center, a small table off to the side. There were no windows, not a shred of natural light despite how high the ceiling was. How anyone could willingly design such a place was beyond you, and you counted yourself lucky to only have to endure it for a short time.

Dinner was served that evening, hosted by the Baron and his nephew. You were permitted to join, dressed in a plain white gown as you sat in silence, doing your best to disappear. You could feel Feyd Rautha’s eyes upon you as you ate and tried to ignore him, cutting into what must have been meat and realizing it was rare at best, perhaps an organ from some large beast. Nonetheless you ate it, finding it adequate and perhaps even tasty, eating in the calm and measured manner expected of you back home.

Suddenly, Feyd barked a laugh. “A pet at the dinner table?”

You glanced up at him and found yourself fascinated once more. His pale skin, nearly white, was completely smooth; you had yet to see a Harkonnen with hair, though you did not know whether they removed it or simply never had it in the first place. His blue eyes were so dark they appeared black in contrast, and as he grinned at you, all you saw were black teeth, and it was somehow beautiful in that brutal, gruesome way of Giedi Prime.

“Do your pets always dine with you?” He rasped, his tone mocking.

“Na-Baron, she is not a pet,” your Lady said sternly, and you felt safe knowing that she would defend you. You were loyal to your House for a reason, after all; you knew your leaders would bring you home safe and sound. “She is my attendant.”

“You must forgive my dear nephew,” the Baron said. “Your customs are not ours.”

You expected a rebuttal, but none came, and Feyd Rautha’s eyes remained glued to you as you ate.

-0-

The negotiations seemed to stretch on.

After dinner, you had helped your Lady retire for the night and then returned to your chamber, laying in bed as you stared at the distant ceiling. All the stories you had heard of the Harkonnens swirled in your mind, and you thought of their recent extermination of House Atreides and shuddered. Your House was desperate to stay in their good graces, you knew, and who could blame them? No one wanted to end up slaughtered like the Atreides.

You told yourself that you were safe. Even if the Harkonnens had lured your Lord and Lady to Giedi Prime under false pretenses, you were only a servant; there was no reason to kill you as well. Aside from Feyd Rautha’s comments at dinner and the stark discomfort of the palace, nothing had happened to make you believe you were a target, and though you knew it was borderline blasphemous, you took some solace in the knowledge that it was more worth their while to kill your masters than you.

When you finally relaxed enough to close your eyes, however, sleep came surprisingly easily, and your dreams were simple and comfortable.

In the morning, you prepared the Lady for the day, and then she and the Lord entered their meeting with the Baron, leaving you alone. There was nothing to do but wander the guest wing, though that only occupied you for a short time as there was absolutely nothing to look at. Nothing in the way of art decorated the walls, and the architecture was so smooth and so plain you quickly grew bored of it. You doubted you would be permitted to participate in anything that even semi-resembled entertainment, and as minutes stretched into hours, you realized your feet had taken you out of the guest wing and into a corridor you had no memory of.

You turned in a circle, seeing nothing and no one familiar, and made the decision to continue on. Surely someone would have informed you of any off-limits areas upon your arrival, and with absolutely no guards in sight, it couldn’t be that bad for you to wander this area as well.

Your steps echoed around you, breaking the oppressive silence of the hall. The architecture was bafflingly different compared to that of your home, where wood and warm stone blended together to create buildings that felt welcoming. On Giedi Prime, everything was harsh and inhospitable—including the people and their homes.

Though your interactions with the Harkonnens had been brief thus far, you could confidently say that they weren’t winning any popularity contests, except perhaps amongst themselves. Nearly everything you’d ever heard about them was bad, and so far, you mostly found them strange; the Baron was fearsome in the way a sick, desperate animal was, with those eyes that followed people as if he were wondering what it would be like to crush their necks in his hands just because he could.

His nephew, on the other hand, was fearsome in the way a predator was. His movements were smooth and confident at dinner the night before, his eyes calculating as if counting how many moves it would take him to press a knife into your gut. You had heard of Feyd Rautha, the pretty boy of Giedi Prime, but you had never seen him before yesterday, and quite frankly, you had expected something else…but then again, what had you even expected at all? The na-Baron was surely cruel just as his uncle was, but he seemed…different.

The clang of metal followed by the sound of a muffled thud startled you out of your thoughts of Feyd, and with a start, you realized you were standing outside a closed door. It was the first noise you’d heard that wasn’t your own all day, and your heart pounded as you quickly stepped back. Perhaps you should run, lest you be caught outside the guest wing. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter at all, as no one has explicitly ordered you to remain in your chamber. And, above all else, perhaps you were curious about what lay on the other side of the door, and you took a step forward again.

It was only a heartbeat later that it opened, revealing Feyd Rautha.

“Well, well,” he said, voice rough, “what do we have here?”

He was dressed in all black, in what you assumed were casual clothes for the Harkonnen royalty.

“Apologies, Feyd Rautha,” you said quickly. “I was passing by and heard a sound.”

You could feel his eyes raking over you as he listened. Then, a smirk crept across his lips, and he help up a bloody dagger.

He did so slowly, and you knew it to be an attempt at intimidation. He wanted you scared. He wanted to shock and disgust the outsider who came from another great house, who had surely never encountered anything like him before.

But you were tougher than that. You may have been a handmaiden for a spoiled aristocrat, but on your planet, hunting was common. You’d had your fair share of field dressing game, and you weren’t one to shy away from a knife.

You eyed the dark blood dripping from the blade, then focused on his face once more. “I apologize if I have caused an interruption.”

“Not at all,” he said, brow twitching as he tilted his head slightly. “Though you are to address me as na-Baron. Only my darlings may use my name.”

“Of course, na-Baron. My apologies.”

“Why are you not in the guest wing, little pet?”

“I have nothing to do, na-Baron.” You shrugged.

This time, he grinned, baring black teeth. If he expected you to cringe away, he would be surprised to find that you seemed almost unimpressed with the display. “So you walk freely, as though you own this palace. I could kill you for the insolence.”

You looked at him boredly.

“I could gut you.” He took a step towards you. “Stick this knife into you. Right. Here.”

He was standing before you, the tip of the blade poking your belly, still grinning. At your lack of reaction, however, the grin faded slightly, nearly faltering.

“Not there,” you replied, a bit amused by his lack of skill.

“What?”

“If you aim to gut me, that’s a terrible place to start.” You wrapped a hand around his and moved the knife over slightly. “This is better.”

He watched your face. “You’re a Bene Gesserit witch.”

“No,” your lip quirked in a small smile. “No, I’m experienced in the ways of hunting and traditional field dressing. Our House is known for them.”

“You’re a hunter? A weak, little thing like you?” He pressed the blade against your dress and laughed.

You considered stepping back, away from the na-Baron and his knife, but you recognized the growing fervor in his eyes. He wanted to hunt, to pursue, to drive the blade forward until he could feel your blood on his skin. Feyd was like a hunting hound, eager to follow the scent of his prey, easily triggered by the chase. So you stood still, studying his pale, smooth face.

“The Lord and Lady enjoy hunting on the estate.” You finally answered. “I often assist in dressing the game after.”

“But have you killed?”

“My uncle took me hunting when I was young. I learned much about the ways of nature and the hunt.”

“You speak so formally,” he taunted, leaning in.

“I do, na-Baron,” you replied curtly. “I do not wish to offend.”

With a sick smirk, he leaned into you even further, lips brushing your ear. “Have you killed a human?”

You watched him from the corner of your eye, and he watched you.

“Na-Baron, I fear I’m lost. I’ll return to the guest wing promptly if you’ll point me in the right direction—“

“Don’t change the subject, pet.” He drew back. “Lying to me is unwise.”

You swallowed hard. “Why do you wish to know?”

“You’ve caught my eye, little one,” he withdrew the blade, leaving the smallest stain on your dress. “And you’ve already told me all I need to know.”

You felt a chill, the back of your neck tingling as you watched him raise the bloody knife and lick it clean. Feyd Rautha was dangerous. More dangerous than you knew.

“Return to the guest wing,” he rasped. “I must attend to my darlings. They grow lonely without me.”

You stared, perplexed, as he strode away, an uneasy feeling washing over you as you turned and hurried back the way you had come. The sooner you could leave Giedi Prime and its unnerving House, the better.

-0-

“What?”

“Hush.” Your mistress scolded you, but you barely heard her.

Your head was too busy spinning.

“You are to remain here,” your Lord repeated. “In the employ of the na-Baron Feyd Rautha.”

Your heart dropped in a sickening way.

“You’ve been so very good to me,” the Lady said. “You’ll serve House Harkonnen very well, I am certain of it.”

“But I-I—I’m…” you paused, trying to catch your breath and quell the panic tightening your chest. “I’m loyal to our House, milady. And I want to return home, to the palace, and serve you.”

“Baron Harkonnen was insistent,” your Lord said flippantly. “It seems Feyd Rautha approached him sometime after our meeting yesterday, and this morning as we finalized the agreements, it was decided you’d be included in the negotiations. Imagine that, a fresh alliance with House Harkonnen and a fine sum for a handmaiden!”

“You…sold me?” You asked, your voice sounding incredibly small.

“Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, but really, these Harkonnens are nothing to worry about. Those nasty rumors back home are simply that, and I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of. Now, we must depart at once, and you are to be shown to the na-Baron’s chambers.”

“Ta ta, dear one!”

And just like that, your entire world was shattered.

As you followed a Harkonnen servant through the corridors, you kept your head down. You felt furious and lost, anger twisting in your gut. So much for loyalty—never before had you been made to feel so easily replaced, and yet they had given you away so willingly you could hardly believe it. Whatever negotiations had been made, whatever new deals struck, you had been deemed unimportant enough to your House to simply be left in the care of a dangerous man, and now you felt your very life was suddenly in grave danger.

“We have arrived, milady,” your guide said timidly, hunching her shoulders and clasping her hands tightly as you turned to look at her.

“Thank you,” you replied, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “Am I to…enter?”

“Yes, milady,” she seemed to bite the words, not angrily, but in an effort to get them out quickly.

“Is Feyd Rautha inside?”

“Yes.” Came the whispered affirmative.

The bald woman was nearly trembling, and you felt as though perhaps you should be, as well. Feyd Rautha had been intimidating every time you interacted with him, and now that he had made the baffling decision to demand you remain on his planet, you were beginning to think you ought to fear him.

But he was only a man, you reminded yourself as you faced the door. Not a god. Not some supernatural being. The na-Baron was flesh and blood.

With a deep breath, you opened the door.

“You enter unannounced?” A familiar voice rasped.

Feyd Rautha was indeed inside what appeared to be living quarters, and the room seemed lavish by Harkonnen standards. A large bed with black sheets sat against the far wall, before which was a simple sitting area featuring oddly shaped sofas, all black as well. A mirror was mounted on the wall near the bed, and you chose not to wonder about its placement. You spied two doors on either side of the room, and in its center, stood the na-Baron.

“I was told to come here,” you said, voice tinged with irritation.

“And so you have,” he smirked, twirling a dagger in his hand as he approached you. "Obedient."

When he reached you, invading your space and nearly brushing against your chest with his, he caught the way your nostrils flared angrily and grinned. His black teeth, previously so fascinating, brought only annoyance now, much like the rest of him.

“May I ask what exactly is going on, na-Baron?”

“Oh, I simply couldn’t let you leave,” you felt his blade as the flat of it pressed up against your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “I had to have you, pet.”

“I am not a pet,” you spat, unable to contain yourself any longer. “And I demand to know exactly why I’ve been sold as one.”

The knife was pulled away as Feyd circled you. In the mirror near the bed, you could see him looking you up and down, appraising you freely now that the two of you were hidden from the rest of the galaxy.

“Your masters gave you away easily,” he said, stopping behind you. “They did not realize your true potential.”

“My potential?” You hissed, head jerking to the side to watch him from the corner of your eye. “And what might that be, na-Baron?”

In a blink, he had leaned in, rough hands suddenly gripping your sides as he brought his lips to your ear. “Call me Feyd.”

His too-hot breath on your neck and the tone of his voice caused your anger to stutter. “I-I thought only your darlings called you by your name?”

“Oh, it’s a clever pet,” he taunted, nipping your earlobe sharply. When he saw that you stayed still and didn’t flinch, he seemed pleased. “What do you know of my darlings?”

“N-nothing, I don’t even know what that means,” you answered truthfully.

“My darlings,” he began, a hand moving up to brush through your hair, short in the style of your position—former position—within your—former—house. “Are the most beautiful creatures. They are very special to me.”

You were in danger.

You knew it.

“I want you.” He said simply, pressing his lips to the back of your neck, and you knew he meant in every way. “Give yourself freely.”

“Why me?” You asked, mustering your courage to speak above a whisper.

He chuckled at that, running his tongue up your spine to the base of your skull. “You are just right, the perfect addition. You are unafraid. You have a taste for meat. And you have killed.”

You were silent for a moment, jaw squared. “I never told you that.”

His hands were creeping over your hips now, across the front of your dress. When he spoke, his voice was low and heady. “Who was it?”

Another long pause came as you wrestled with yourself, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth as you finally tried to speak.

“My father.”

As Feyd Rautha let out a guttural groan at your admittance, you stared at yourself in the mirror, and nearly didn’t recognize the person you saw.

“You and I are alike, pet,” his hands squeezed at you harshly while his nose pressed into your hair. “I killed my mother.”

A part of you felt sick at the suggestion that you were anything like the monster that was Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. Another part of you felt a strange comfort in the knowledge that you weren’t the only one in the room who had committed parricide.

“I haven’t shared that in a long time,” you admitted.

“Did he fight it?”

You could feel his arousal as he pushed his hips against you, the sensation bringing an unexpected fire to your core.

“Yes.”

“Did he deserve it?”

You stared at yourself in the mirror and saw an unexpected harshness in your eyes, the polite handmaiden now completely absent, replaced by what you had feared you truly were ever since the day of your father’s death; a killer.

“Yes.”

But if you had feared that you were bad for it, that you deserved punishment, Feyd Rautha seemed determined to prove otherwise. He turned you in his arms, never letting go, and brought his lips to yours in a greedy kiss.

“I need you now,” he breathed, almost sounding vulnerable for a moment.

“Take me,” you said against his lips, determined not to stop and think about what exactly you were doing.

If you were going to be kept and tortured by a Harkonnen prince, you may as well enjoy your last moments, right?

Feyd Rautha guided you to his bed in a way that was somehow both smooth and rough, gentle and demanding. He didn’t want to break you, but he wanted to see how far he could bend you before you snapped. He wanted to test you.

Your dress was quickly thrown to the wayside, torn by his dagger, his clothing following suit. As you lay on your back, fully bared to him, he crept over you, eyes taking over your body as he continued his earlier appraisal.

“So strange,” he muttered as he brushed his fingers over the soft hair between your legs.

“Are you…truly hairless?” You asked, eyeing his smooth groin. “You don’t…remove it?”

“Hair is…barbaric.”

You could have laughed at the irony of him of all people calling you a barbarian.

“I do not hate it on you,” he decided after careful consideration. “Perhaps you will keep this, for now.”

You had the odd feeling that you should feel grateful for the honor.

“It will set you apart from my other darlings,” his body moved over yours, eclipsing you as his hand reached between your legs.

He stroked you there, rubbing in a way that wasn’t gentle, wasn’t harsh, and wasn’t patient, all at once. When his lips captured yours once more, your mind spun—but it was a decidedly more pleasant spin than that short while ago when your entire world came crashing down. Feyd Rautha, while somewhat terrifying, was exhilarating, and as his fingers plunged inside of you and his kisses turned into demanding bites, you thought that perhaps this wasn’t so bad.

“That’s it,” he breathed, voice husky. “I want to hear you.”

Your whines and moans filled the heavy air. Feyd Rautha sought to conquer you, you realized; as you came, it wasn’t so much a favor to you as it was an ego boost for him. Either way, you benefited, and as he sheathed himself within you and his hips began rocking back and forth, you were glad for the warm up.

“F-Feyd,” you panted, nails digging into his back as you wrapped yourself around him.

He answered you with a low moan, face hidden in your neck. The na-Baron was merciless, driving into you over and over…but the heat that bloomed inside of you, that feeling that stemmed from your belly and ran all the way to your fingertips…was exhilarating.

He leaned back, one hand gripping your hip harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. The other found your throat and his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing, reminding you who he was. The heir to the Harkonnen throne. The pride of Giedi Prime.

Feyd Rautha.

Your face tingled as he held you, eyes seeking out his. The blue was nearly black, his pupils huge, like a big cat hunting in the dark. He was watching you, frenzied, feral in his ministrations, as if you were his prey and he had finally caught you. Just as your vision began to tunnel he let go and you gasped, gulping in air as he suddenly pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, manhandling you easily as you sank down onto him once more.

His hands were like a vice, pulling your hips down as he pushed up into you, still fucking you mercilessly even in this new position. You would never have expected this from him; you felt too powerful on top of him, too in control of someone who gave you every reason to assume that he wanted to be. That he would be the one weighing down on you, that he would forever and always be hovering over you as he made harsh demands. He was, truly, not as harsh as expected...not that you had ever, for a second, expected to be there with him.

He watched your tits bouncing above him, so much flesh laid bare for him to enjoy, and he soon pulled you down. When you expected him to return to your swollen lips, however, he instead moved his mouth to your chest, greedily sucking and biting your soft skin. He sank his teeth into you, reveling in your sharp gasp, answering it with a beastly groan that was so low and so loud you half imagined it must have shook the walls. The sound had your stomach twisting delightfully, your head fuzzy as Feyd Rautha pulled you closer, closer, closer, until you hardly knew where you ended and where he began. Half-formed thoughts swam in your head, none of them coherent, all of them about him as you desperately clawed at the arms that held you so tightly. He had wanted you, and now he had you, completely, all of you, in every sense of the word.

In that moment, you didn't hate it, or him, or that place; you wanted more. You wanted more of him. As your orgasm mounted, breaths coming in gasps, eyes glued to the pale man below you, you felt happy. Later, you would try to reason with yourself, tell yourself that it was simply chemicals in your brain that brought this on, but in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to do this over and over and over again with him.

"Yes," he rasped, voice muffled by your breasts. You felt the wet heat of his tongue in your cleavage, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth as he pulled you down onto himself. "Take it."

"Feyd," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as your fingernails dug into his scalp. "Feyd!"

It came out as a half-scream as you felt the sting of his teeth, and it was enough to push you over the edge, plunging down into the abyss that was Feyd Rautha's love. His breath stuttered as his hips drove up against you, a growl sounding from deep within his chest as he came inside of you.

You felt his heart pounding as he held you, a sheen of sweat covering his smooth, pale body. You slumped over him, arms falling onto his shoulders limply. You thought you heard him laugh lightly.

"Good," he said, more to himself than to you.

He moved you easily, rolling you off of him and onto the bed as he pulled himself out. You felt slick and thoroughly used, not in a bad way, but in the way you imagined lovemaking should feel. You had never expected to feel such passion from Feyd Rautha, of all people. From a Harkonnen.

"Come." he stood and slipped his arms under you, scooping you up. Your arms immediately hooked around his neck, and as he carried you to one of the adjoining rooms, you wondered at how natural it felt to be with him now.

The door opened to reveal a steamy, dark bathing room, a large basin filled with dark liquid positioned in the floor. Feyd Rautha sank down into it and as you leaned your head against his shoulder, you heaved a sigh. The liquid was thicker than water but thinner than mud, like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was warm, soothing your bitemarks and sore muscles.

"What is this?" you managed to ask after several minutes of silence.

"Hmph." Feyd Rautha laughed, his whole body moving with the sound. "Oil and blood."

He paused, waiting for your reaction.

"...Ah." you said, wrinkling your nose for a moment as you looked down at the bubbling goo. "...It's nice."

His lips spread into a wide grin. "You don't find it disgusting, my darling?"

"It feels too nice to be disgusting right now."

Feyd Rautha moved a large hand to the side of your head and held you against him, pressing a kiss to your temple in a way that was almost tender. "Rest now. You will need it."

Too tired to ask why, you simply nodded, sinking into him as the blood bath steamed around you. If this was to be your fate now, you didn't mind it; and if he killed you tomorrow, at least your final day had turned out somewhat enjoyable.

-0-

"Do you like it?'

The question was simple, only four words, and yet it was never one you had expected to hear Feyd Rautha ask.

You had been living in his chambers for a week, sleeping next to him, eating with him, wearing what he chose and accompanying him wherever he went. You saw more of the Harkonnen palace--the training room was a frequent haunt, and you realized that it was the room you had wandered to on the day of your first conversation with him. You saw more of Feyd Rautha, as well, and you noticed how quickly he often decided to kill those around him.

But not you.

Never you.

He had yet to do anything worse than bite or scratch, occasionally bending your limbs too far when he tested your physical capabilities in his bed but always letting you go just before any real injury occurred. You often felt the smooth metal of his blades, but they never cut deep; he mentioned once that perhaps he would mark you with one soon, leave a scar that only he would ever be allowed to see, but he had yet to enact that fantasy. You weren't sure if that was good or bad.

Now, you stood before him, wearing a simple black dress that clung to your body and shone as if it were always wet, and your head felt too cold.

"I...don't hate it," you decided as you looked at your reflection.

"Good." he ran a hand over your smooth scalp.

"Will it grow back?"

"At first." he said in his accent that was growing more and more familiar to hear. "Eventually it will stop."

"And the rest...?"

He smirked, turning you to face him. "I told you, that will set you apart from my other darlings."

At the mention of their collective name, a hiss sounded from across the room.

You twisted your head to the side, spying the two women you had been introduced to three days earlier. One--who you had learned had been Feyd's the longest--sported a thick black line down her forehead today, but they were otherwise identical. They watched you curiously, bald heads tilted as they looked at you with big, black eyes. Their dresses were similar to yours, and as you glanced back at the mirror, you realized how you really didn't recognize yourself anymore.

Your teeth had been stained black already, your hair and eyebrows shaved and then the skin treated with something that the servants had explained would keep the hair away. You had already undergone one strange Harkonnen beauty treatment in what you had come to learn was a medical spa, and it was the only one that had frightened you--a strange machine had bared down upon you and done something to your eyes, injecting something that changed them and yet didn't change them, causing them to become big and black like Feyd's other darlings. You actually thought your eyesight was better now, somehow.

You matched them now, you realized, like a member of a set. Feyd Rautha's third concubine.

It was an upgrade from your last job, you supposed.

"It suits you." he pressed his lips to the base of your neck. "My darling."

"Thank you, Feyd," you said, growing more and more used to calling him by his name with every time you said it.

You felt him smirk against your skin. He was no doubt very pleased with himself, having managed to completely transform a murderous handmaiden into a sinister harpy in the course of only one week. Granted, Giedi Prime's days were significantly longer than on your home planet, but it was still a commendable haste.

"Come." he rasped in that gravelly voice you were beginning to love. "All of us. It is time for the arena."

He set off towards the door and you waited for the others before falling in behind them, moving as if the three of you had always belonged together.

"Will there be food?" one of them asked in a harsh, hissing voice.

"Yes," Feyd said gleefully.

"Hearts and lungs?" the other asked hopefully.

"Only the best for my darlings."

"Human?" she demanded clarification.

Feyd looked back over his shoulder, his eyes finding you even though he knew you had not asked the question. "Of course."

You stared back at him, swallowing hard. Human?

He grinned, and the others looked at each other excitedly. They both glanced to you and you gave the best black-toothed grin you could, not wanting to give any of them any reason to be displeased with you. Not after you had done so well all week.

Feyd Rautha led the way to the arena you had learned he loved to fight captured Atreides soldiers in, and after a short preparation (during which he killed at least two servants), a guard led him away while you and the others were taken up to a viewing room.

When you stepped inside you saw that a feast had already been laid out, platters of rare meat covering a short buffet table. As sunlight--or a lack thereof? Giedi Prime's sun continued to baffle you--light the room in that strange, black and white, infrared way, you stared at the food. You recognized it. Despite its human origins, you had no reason to be disgusted by it--because you had already eaten it, on that very first night, when Feyd Rautha had watched you cutting into your meal and commented on your presence at the dinner table.

As the others approached, picking out their favorites--lungs for one, a heart for the other--a grin found its way onto your face. Yes. Perhaps this was exactly where you belonged.

The crowd outside erupted in a roar of cheers as Feyd stalked into the sandy arena, and as you settled in next to the others to watch, you smiled to yourself. There was nowhere else you'd rather be in that moment than on Giedi Prime, eagerly awaiting the moment you could return to Feyd Rautha's chambers and celebrate his victory.

PART TWO

[hongthoven]

one-shot 𖹭 3k w

pairing 𖹭 kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader

tags 𖹭 fluff, smut, established relationship, idol!hongjoong, family trip, you know he'll be having you in that hot tub at some point

✏️ okay so this wasn't planned but Bumjoong's vlog got me spiraling into some ⊹ ࣪ ˖ thoughts ⊹ ࣪ ˖ and I couldn't stop thinking about joining Hongjoong on that family trip -- and may I add, that hotspring? You know I had to.

pls reblog & comment if you like it 𖹭

© hongthoven

When Hongjoong had asked you to join him and his family on a trip to Sapporo, your first instinct was to panic— This would be your first time meeting his parents and only your second encounter with Bumjoong ever since your boyfriend’s last tour. Back then, even the idea of having lunch with Hongjoong and his older brother was already nerve-wrecking enough. Lucky for you, Bumjoong was the most welcoming human and had worked extra hard to make you feel comfortable by sharing some precious childhood memories including his younger brother pulling a tantrum over an ice-cream and how he would always crash his football games with his friends when he wasn’t much bigger than the ball itself. 

Now this was different. Meeting his parents, spending days with his whole circle and living under the same roof seemed like a commitment your anxiety couldn’t seem to handle peacefully. Of course you were more than happy and flattered he would even consider bringing you along with him— any signs of this man committing to you more than enough to have you kicking your feet and screaming into a void. Hongjoong was a busy man and dating Ateez’s captain wasn’t always easy when it came to matching your schedules so you could spend quality time together. When he wasn’t spending the night at his studio, your man was either busy promoting his music, writing for other artists, working on his next photography exhibition or flying to Paris’ Fashion Week. 

Still— every single one of his accomplishments felt like yours and Hongjoong always made sure to include you in every single step towards another successful experience. So when your lovely boyfriend had kindly suggested for you to take a couple days off from work so you could fly to Japan with his family, there wasn’t much left for you but to agree as Hongjoong did his best to reassure you when you immediately told him about your worries: his parents not liking you, embarrassing yourself, crashing their family time when you weren't even part of it— to which Hongjoong was quick to reply with the most unexpected piece of informations, sending you spiraling into thoughts of a future you were too afraid to dream about.

“Y/N— you’re part of my family already…” That was the validation you needed from him. The thought of him talking about you with his parents, letting them know about meaningful details of your relationship, made your heart grow twice its size. And while you were still nervous to meet them, you knew nothing could possibly go wrong when Hongjoong was by your side. 

By the end of your first day, you already felt like part of the family. After hours spent walking in the snow, taking pictures, gazing at the gorgeous landscape and tasting some local delicacies, you were practically tight by the hip with Hongjoong’s mother as you walked back to the beautiful accommodation your boyfriend had rented for the entire family. 

“My mom is kind of obsessed with you” Hongjoong growled as you finally caught some time to yourselves, spread out over the bed with your boyfriend resting on top of you, the coldness of his palms sending shivers all over your stomach as he slipped his hands under your sweater with a content sigh. “I’m a bit jealous actually— she’s keeping you all to herself” he almost whined, his lips reaching for your neck, forcing a soft giggle out of your lips “can’t even hold my girl’s hand or anything— such a thief” he added, biting your skin while the tip of his tongue collected your scent, reaching for your earlobe.

“Joongie— your family’s right next door” you huffed, trying to wiggle out of his embrace as he looked up to lock his beautiful yet sleepy eyes with yours. It had been a long day, following a long week of a packed schedule and you could definitely tell he was a minute from passing out from intense fatigue— but he still looked breathtaking with his blonde streaks covering half of his face and his pink lips, tempting as candy, desperately reaching for yours, only to melt into the softest kiss as he eventually complied. Closing his eyes for a minute, Hongjoong made himself comfortable with his face buried into your neck and his hands still resting under your sweater, framing you with his entire body. 

It wasn’t long until you heard his breathing slowing down, its delicate sound mixing with some slight snoring from being completely burned out. Happy to see him resting at last, your hands found their way into his hair and at the back of his neck, kneading his skin tenderly as you watched the beautiful winter scenery getting darker by the end of the afternoon. 

A knock on the door made you flinch into your slumber and your first instinct was to look down and make sure Hongjoong was still fast asleep— when he failed to react, your eyes found Bumjoong standing in the doorway, trying to make himself as discreet as possible, his palm covering his eyes.

“Are you guys decent?” he asked with a nervous chuckle as you immediately cleared the scene with a soft tone, the sight of his passed out brother making the older one smile endearingly. 

“I think we’ll pass on dinner, can you excuse us to your parents? I think he needs this…” You whispered with one hand still locked into your boyfriend’s hair, scratching his scalp softly. Without a word, Bumjoong gave you an understanding nod as an answer and closed the door behind him, leaving you with nothing but the peaceful quietness of the bedroom as company. 

After a while, you figured Hongjoong was gone for the night and decided not to rot in bed any longer— your body was getting pins and needles from staying in the same position for hours, keeping your boyfriend locked into your embrace as he snored peacefully against your chest. Though you were slightly reluctant to let go of him, the warmth of his skin as a reminder of how long it had been since you two were in the same bed, you eventually managed to roll Hongjoong over to his side, stealing a muffled complaint out of him as he called out your name in his sleep, to which you replied with a tender kiss at the crook of his neck before rolling out of bed and escaping the bedroom as quietly as possible. 

The hotspring was practically calling your name as you walked into the private patio on the second floor, ready to dive into your book and enjoy some snacks while bathing in hot water— now this looked like a holiday. Everything around was quiet, peaceful if not for a couple of birds still chirping into the night. You were thankful for Hongjoong asking you to take a bathing suit although you were left a little puzzled at his odd request for a snowy weekend away— but you also couldn’t miss the little evil smirk on your boyfriend’s face when giving you a house tour, his hand palming the small of your back as he made sure to let you know just how much he expected to have you there, in this bath, as soon as his family would be gone. He would find an excuse, book a table at some fancy restaurant, pretend to have some work emergency and keep you around for support, only to bend you over the tiles and make you scream his name over and over again.

Unable to focus on your book as you kept reading the same page until it made some sort of sense, you tried to remember the last time you and Hongjoong were able to share that type of intimacy, your thighs instantly clenching at the sudden memory of his last concert in Saitama. You typically tried not to ever miss a concert whenever you could travel along but this tour you wouldn’t miss for anything— for months, you had seen Hongjoong practice his guitar skills, lessons after lessons, massaging his calloused fingers every time he took it too far — almost every day, so when it was time to witness your boyfriend in all his glory as he stood on stage ready to wreck an entire Dome, you were actually thankful to be seating alone, your entire body radiating with lust and  the absolute urge to kneel in front of him to swallow his junk entirely. 

Which you did, precisely 2 hours later, as soon as you were left alone with him backstage. Hongjoong had practically kicked the other members out without any effort to hide his intentions. You could actually hear Wooyoung snickering behind the door and making some crude comment to Mingi about how their captain was about to ‘get some’, which you both decided to ignore. Without any sort of ceremony, Hongjoong was quick to spit into your open mouth and guide himself between your lips, both his hands pushing at the back of your head until you could feel the familiar taste of precum spilling off his slit and into the back of your throat. You could never get enough of the way he seemed to melt against your tongue as you traced every single vein along his cock with just the tip like he was your favorite flavor. 

When it came to being vocal, Hongjoong knew how to drive you past the edge of insanity with little whimpers and the nastiest words wrapped into the delicacy of his voice, like the melted chocolate heart of your favorite cake. You would never get rid of the way he often crossed the line, way past his usual cute pet names, only to call you his ‘little slut’ as he rutted himself into your mouth, stealing air out of your lungs as his hands started to tremble into your untamed hair. 

The water was getting too hot, suddenly— the simple thought of Hongjoong slowly pushing your lips open with his tip making you foam at the mouth. Without realizing, your thighs had started to press against one another, rolling up and down slightly, just to give you enough friction for a quick relief. You could tell your entire body was now getting worked up over your fantasies, your back arching naturally as you eventually pushed your book to the side, suddenly uninterested in any sort of Literature. Wrapped into a cloud of steam, your body was craving a touch— yours, but mostly Hongjoong’s, and as you slowly slid your hand along your chest, brushing your erected nipple on your way down, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at the thought of being caught. What would your in-laws think? What would Hongjoong say if he heard about his parents walking on his girlfriend touching herself in the hot tub? 

All these thoughts were quickly gone as soon as your hand found its nest between your thighs, three of your fingers pressed against your core as a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing into the empty patio. Or so you thought. 

“Baby?” Though you immediately recognized Hongjoong’s voice, you were quick to stiffen back into the corner of the tub, red at the cheeks as you turned around to face your boyfriend’s mixed expression. He was definitely confused— but also quite obviously aroused. Not to mention half naked now that his sweater was gone, leaving him in a pair of sweatpants, his hair now a chaotic blond mess from sleeping for too long and his bare chest already coated with steam from the temperature of the room. He looked like an absolute snack you couldn’t wait to devour. 

“You should have woken me up if you needed it so bad?” Hongjoong smirked, peeling himself off his sweatpants only to leave you gasping at the sight of his exposed, already semi-erected cock for a second before he dived into the bath. 

“You looked like you needed some good sleep” you half-pouted as soon as he pulled you against him, forcing you to sit on his lap with one leg on each side of his frame. 

“I need you more” without any sort of warning, Hongjoong reached for your throat, wrapping all five of his fingers around it as his lips found yours, tongue teasing until you caved and deepened the kiss, soft moans dying into his mouth as you started to grind over his lap while his stiffening member threatened to push your bikini bottom to the side with each thrust from your aching hips. 

“Fuck— I’ve missed you so much baby— fucking insane—” his words were coming out a little sharpier, halfway between a confession and a command while his lips traveled down to your neck, sucking a soft, pink bite out of your skin with one hand already pulling at your bikini top. You couldn’t help but feel extremely exposed as one of your tit disappeared into Hongjoong’s palm, the other already settled between his lips as he sucked desperately at your flesh like a starving newborn.

“You gonna let me fuck you here?” he asked, his tone the opposite of innocent as you clenched over nothing, pushing your core against his groin until you couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing else mattered now. The glass windows surrounded you, making you both vulnerable and exposed— the idea of his family coming home any minute, only to find you there with their youngest son balls deep into your cunt. All you could think about was to be filled and to reach climax as soon as possible. It had been weeks since you had last felt Hongjoong’s body so close to yours and a treat was overdue. 

“Please” you almost weeped, using your fingers as a hook to push your bikini to the side until you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, thicker than ever. 

“Oh you’re gonna beg, love?” you couldn’t say a thing— not a word— as you nodded almost hysterically, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth like a misbehaving child ready to be grounded. Though his words were tempting and his gaze wrapped into that cocky frown you knew too well, Hongjoong’s hands were nothing but tender over your skin, his love pouring out of him in the shape of his palms stroking your arms, shoulders and the back of your neck like you were nothing but glass, about to shatter against his chest. 

“You’re so fucking pretty— can’t believe you’re mine” his words took you by surprise, his thumb brushing your bottom lip while you felt him aligning himself perfectly against your aching core. His eyes were locked on the way your mouth instantly wrapped around his digit, sucking at the tip like the ghost of that part of him you were now craving. 

“Go ahead and beg” he added, more demanding this time, your body going limp against him as you struggled to even breathe from the absolute urge to be consumed entirely by the love of your life. 

“Hongjoong— please?” you finally begged, lips turned into a pout while your hand reached for his cock, ready to wrap around it. You had never felt emptier. 

“What do you think you’re doing, love?” Hongjoong smirked, his own hand wrapping around yours but never truly stopping you.

“Need you” you were a blurbing mess by now, lids heavy and hips almost jolting against him as you felt him stretching you out a little with his tip only, both your hands still tightly wrapped around his shaft. You could feel every inch of him— into your palm, pushing against your walls, everywhere, always amazed at the way his cock seemed to be exclusively crafted for your cunt. 

Once he was settled, balls deep into you, Hongjoong reached for the small of your back, pulling you closer to his chest as you instinctively rolled your hips against him, collecting the sweetest sound out of his throat as your boyfriend tilted his head back, hitting the tile with his wet hair while thrusting painfully slow into you. The room was filled with soft, muffled moans and the sound of water splashing over the rim, soaking the floor with each, deeper thrust. Everything felt and sounded like absolute bliss— the roughness of his chest against your palms, the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass cheeks everytime he pulled you harder, bottoming out only to rocket his hips back into you— nothing could beat this feeling, this fullness, the sincere love you could see in his eyes as his lips turned into an ‘o’ every time your eyes met. 

Reaching for your neck, Hongjoong pulled you closer to melt his lips into yours, his kiss more eager this time as his tongue battled with yours while his hand kept you still with a soft grip around your throat. Lost into his embrace, it took you a minute to realize he was now completely still inside of you. 

“Could stay like this forever” he smiled, his palm cupping water on the surface only to pour it over your chest, his eyes following every drop as it raced over your breast like the most beautiful piece of Art. While still tightly clenched between your folds, the way he gazed at you, his fingers tracing some invisible forms over your chest, was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced with anyone. Something in his eyes made you feel safe and vulnerable at the same time, like you were precisely where you belonged. 

It only took a few more thrusts for you to bite a moan into his shoulder, your entire body stiffening with bliss as Hongjoong chased you to the top, his entire face buried into your chest as he lifted himself just enough to rocket back into you harder until his cries echoed into the quietness of the night while your walls locked around his load, turning him into absolute shambles as Hongjoong started to shake slightly into your arms from a hint of overstimulation. 

Red at the cheeks, blonde streaks pushed back, Hongjoong tried to compose himself, his breathing gone to absolute chaos as he kept his arms locked around your figure, unwilling to let go just yet. 

“Think I’m gonna marry you” he blurted out, his forehead pressed to yours— leaving you once again, completely speechless. 

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his maid. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his maid. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

[wqnsho]

DIFFERENT

lingyang (wuthering waves) x gn! reader

SPOILERS FOR HIS STORY QUEST!

lowercase intended, full of fluff!

lingyang's story quest spoilers, (incase you haven't played it yet)

no dialogue (tried to do something new) hope you enjoy!

ever since stepping foot in jinzhou, lingyang knew who, or rather what he was. he knew he was different from his clients, young or old, he knew he was different from shuncai, who sells his food at his little shop, he knew he was different from his fellow liondance troupe to his master.

he knew it all.

he knew but can he accept it?

can he accept the fact that he is different from everyone he knows? "yes!" lingyang would reply in a heartbeat. his mind fast as light to give an answer while his heart hesitates to even think about it. no matter how many "yes" he would answer to questions like those, his soul would always tell a different story.

while there was nothing wrong with being different, it hurts just as much because he was alone. he had no one to talk to, to relate to his problems of self identity and where he belongs. that was until a person called rover came to his life.

rover...

that's what everyone calls them. while lingyang has his name, rover doesn't recall theirs and this sparked something inside of him. for a moment he did not feel alone, he did not feel different. which is why it was easy for him to open up his past, telling it to the rover without directly mentioning that he was the "jingle monster", that he was a beast, that he was the last suan'ni.

despite everything, the rover was a busy individual. they could'nt possibly be there 24/7 for lingyang since their always helping and fighting people left and right while finding their true self in a world where everyone wants them. that thought alone made lingyang frown. was he even valid for feeling that way knowing someone else has it harder? or was he just a selfish individual?

lingyang sighed the tenth time that night. sitting on top of the many boxes behind the stage with hands crossed over his chest, a troubled look swirled around his face. the crease on his forehead keeps getting bigger and bigger as time passed, so big that he didn't even notice the additional weight on the box he was sitting on.

before, a little nudge used to be enough to get his attention but now it seems like a scream on his ear wouldn't even pull him out of his thoughts. but that was alright, for lingyang, they're willing to wait. even if it meant falling asleep on his shoulder.

minutes passed and still, no lingyang on earth.

another, and another, and another... and another.

that was until he felt his own body moving. his arm tucked underneath his other arm moved without a second thought, catching the person who had fallen off his shoulder. call it his "animal instinct" if you will.

lingyang immediately looked over, curiosity and worry replacing his look of trouble. slowly but surely his worried expression begins to flow out as he releases a somewhat happy and contented smile as if he wasn't in a negative headspace earlier.

he looks at his surroundings before looking at the moon which was directly above them.

a look of surprise immediately took over his face, guilt hurriedly seeping into his veins. just how long did he spend sitting there? was it too long that—

huh...

lingyang looked over again at the person sleeping on his arm and minimal movements, he moved the person in his lap, providing them a comfier place to rest on. he couldn't help but smile and in the lowest voice he could muster he whispered...

[name].

[name], a fellow resonator, one of the outriders in jinzhou, sometimes his "lower half" during performances.

[name], who found him sneaking at the outskirts of jinzhou, who welcomed, showed and toured him around the city on his first day.

[name], who helped him ever since he was new. who was there sleeping on his lap, who stayed with him during his times of trouble. with a look of adoration, lingyang combs his hand through their hair hoping that he could provide comfort as they sleep.

lingyang smiled, as flashbacks of both of them immediately played in his mind. from when he first met them, until now. with one final look at their sleeping face, lingyang looked at the moon above.

thanks to the rover, he finally got the affirmation that he doesn't have to be human or a suan'ni.

but thanks to [name], he was happy that he was different.

because if being different meant being close to one another, lingyang will always love being different.

currently on wuwa grind! feel free to add me^^ mostly active on ASIA server but I do have a SEA one.

anyways, lingyang is so cute! but his dialogue either makes me cringe or laugh 😭

lingyang; sorry you have to see that side of me, rover

[space-dreams-world]

Two Graysons for one:

So we all know that Dick Grayson is supposed to become the greatest Talon of the Court of Owls: The Gray Son, Dick wasn't Mary and John's first child.

Enter Daphne Mary Grayson (Danny Fenton) the firstborn Grayson who dissapeared during Haley's tour in Europe.

The European Court of owls (Ecoo) were impatient for their Gray son and couldn't wait until Haley's arrived in Gotham. So they end up kidnapping Daphne, taken to become the possible Gray son, unaware Mary Grayson was pregnant with Dick at the time. Daphne does get small doses of electrum, but the Ecoo are waiting until she is older to fully convert her in a Talon for the court. During one of the plots to assainate an wealthy business person, an earthquake occurs and Daphne, injured ends up falling through a crevasse that connect to a cave system that directly leads to an ectoplasm pool that she accidently falls in.

Now this where things get tricky. Dick life still plays out the same way (Bruce bait, Robin, Nightwing,etc...) As Nightwing, Dick gets into contact with a magical-infused virus that could very well kill him unless he gets the blood of biological family member (John and Mary are dead, William Cobb has more electrum than blood in him and they cannot synthetisize the virus out of his blood to try put his blood back in him) this looks like it could be the very end of Dick Grayson. Everyone in the Family decides to air out their grievances to their big brother, the bird who brought all of them together. It's also worth mentioning that someone has been murdering influential people that are part of the Court around the world but has started to make their way towards Gotham warning them that their time is up.

Now, last time with Daphne, she fallen in an ectoplasm pool. What we find out is that after that fall, she appears in the states (Meddling Clockwork) unaware how they got there. Daphne gets spotted by Jazz Fenton and decides to be her big sister unaware that Daphne is somewhat disoriented from the ectoplasm and electrum sort of melding together giving Daphne some enhanced abilities like, slight healing, speed and able to go longer without proper sustenance. Daphne's electrum is barely visible around her heart and her eyes are blue with a ring of amber or gold with flecks of green ectoplasm.

The Drs. Fenton decide to "adopt" Daphne to please their daughter, and Daphne becomes Danny Janus Fenton. Canon episodes happen, except I want to say that Phantom Planet may have caused the Metahuman appearance. Danny's parents, while not to hate him anymore , can not get over their guilt that their passion killed their child. Danny is still close to Jazz, Tucker, Dani (Ellie and the clones), Valerie and Wes, surprisingly. Danny and Sam sort of split because Sam could understand that Danny was a murderer and Danny thought that Sam reminded them too much of their court days.

Danny would be genderfluid ( somedays it's Danny, others it's Daphne) since Danny always felt she lacked some control over her life.

Now, how do the Graysons meet? Two days before Dick possibly dies, someone is at the door. Alfred or possibly Tim opens it to inform them that they werent taking visitors before being shocked as the person at the door looks almost exactly like Dick (Tim would know as he has seen John and Mary Grayson before their demise) Danny goes to say that they are here to help their Baby brother as it was announced publicly that Dick Grayson has caught something terrible and was possibly on their last legs. Tim and the rest of the family want to get the validity that this is an actual relative of Dick and not some fake. Danny's D.N.A is uncorrupted enough that they can 100% tell that Danny is actually related to Dick on a much closer scale than they realize like an uncle or second-cousin, and they don't want to risk it. And if it didn't work, Danny wanted to see her baby brother alive before he died.

[inkdemonapologist]

My BatDR Take That Used To Be Hot But I Left It Out On The Windowsill To Cool So You Should Be Able to Eat It Now Without Burning Your Tongue

its not actually that hot, is what im saying

Anyway my BatDR hot take is that BatDR's story is not fundamentally worse than BatIM with one exception; an exception that, for BatIM, covers a multitude of sins:

BatIM has a theme.

I can't presume the intentions of the creators, but if I had to write an essay on the themes in BatIM, it wouldn't be hard to pick one out: the cost of obsession, or even just, the ruin Joey brought on the studio. In the very first chapter, Henry asks "Joey, what were you doing?" and every single thing in the rest of the game revolves around that central question: what WAS Joey doing? Each audiolog is a snippet of the studio's path to this messed up state; each character you meet is someone ruined by Joey. The major antagonists echo Joey's flaws -- obsession with Bendy as more than a cartoon, obsession with perfection, obsession with fame and greatness and legacy -- but even without that, they're also each a picture of how the lives of people caught in the path of Joey's dream were ruined by it. Bertrum, for example, doesn't match the concept of rubberhose cartoons, but as yet another person screwed over by Joey, he fits the central question of the story, so he feels like he belongs here. Ultimately, in a narrative sense, the Ink Demon isn't the story's monster -- Joey is; the Ink Demon is just the consequence of his reckless ambition.

But what's the theme or central question of BatDR?

You can... try to pick out a theme. There's some promising options, because it feels like the story WANTED a theme, stating its emotional intentions more overtly -- "there's always a choice" to leave the darkness and chose hope; family and the struggle of living in a heavy legacy's shadow; or even just good old mewtwo-brand The Circumstance's Of One's Birth Are Irrelevant, It Is What You Do With The Gift Of Life That Determines Who You Are.

I think, even WITH the clumsy execution of Joey's "arc" and Audrey's lack of real choices, any of those could work about as well as BatIM. But unlike BatIM, the majority of the game doesn't tie in. Joey's tour can be considered relevant -- a picture of the family legacy and the "darkness" that Audrey doesn't yet know she's inheriting -- but like, the audiologs and hints and environment of BatDR are mostly teasing the question of What Is Gent Up To, and the takeover of Gent is detached from Audrey's choices, her family, her legacy, and Gent never really becomes a relevant threat to those things in this game. The Cult of Amok and the Ghost Train have nothing to do with any of these ideas. It might've been neat if Audrey had ever considered, "Did my father really drive all these people insane?", a hint of actually having to wonder about the darkness in her past. Even Wilson only barely brushes against these concepts; he doesn't like Joey and he also is trying to escape his family's heavy legacy, but it doesn't really reflect on his actions and we don't find that last part out until he's about to be dead.

There's also the question Wilson poses of "real" people versus ink creations, and what counts as valid "life." It would be an interesting theme with a lot to build off of in this setting, it ties into Wilson more as Wilson seems to represent the opinion that Inky Things Aren't Really Alive, which could've tied to Audrey (as an ink-person who has yet to accept that part of herself) and maybe given Wilson a reason to think it's fine to sacrifice her, it could've even tied to Gent (who don't even seem to value human life) -- but after Wilson asks the question, it doesn't tie into the direction things go. He smooshes a little Bendy, we see hints of his disregard for Betty, and then everyone continues with their plan to destroy the Ink Demon without any further moral quandaries about inky life.

The thing is, when you compare an element like, say, audiologs, there's a lot of differences you can point to -- but I don't actually think Lacie Benton's audiolog is notably better, taken on its own, than Grace Conway's or Kitty Thompson's, and yet tons of people were intrigued enough to flesh out Lacie. None of them are big plot points or compelling characters on their own; Lacie and Grace both give us a little note on what it's like working in the Studio, and Kitty shares a little bit on how Gent's expansion is affecting people. But when Lacie talks about Bertrum trying to make a creepy animatronic, that ties back into Joey's ill-fated schemes that are the point of the whole story. The question we're asking through the whole game is "what happened here?" so the fandom is interested in who Lacie is and what her life was like and extrapolates a whole person out of a couple sentences. But that's not the question in BatDR -- what has Wilson done to the Cycle and the Demon? Why? Who is Audrey really, and why is she here? Telling us new things about the Studio's fate seems strangely irrelevant to those questions, just an attempt to create a Mystery To Speculate On like the previous game did... but what question you're asking and how it fits into your story's main theme, like, matters. I absolutely believe that one clock animator guy would've been in EVERYONE'S crew if he'd been introduced in BatIM, but the context makes a difference; fleshing him out feels less relevant here.

The explanations of how and why Wilson did everything he did are baffling and handwavey, but in and of itself that's not a worse problem than anything else in the franchise -- I STILL don't understand why the Ink Machine needs pipes in the walls or even how it works, there's no good reason for Sammy to believe the Ink Demon will "set him free," most of Alice's motives don't make sense, etc etc etc. But the thing is that in BatDR, the wibbly bit is the closest thing to a central question we have! Wilson, what were you doing? The theme doesn't really explore or connect to that question, so the explanations that are finally tossed our way feel lacking in a way that BatIM's handwaved elements don't. There's a lot about Joey's motivation in BatIM that we can't know, but the heart of it resonates -- Joey wanted something, he was willing to exploit people to get it, and he became obsessed and prioritised that dream at any cost. We'll weather a thousand logistical inconsistencies if it's got heart.

But all of that said.... to be honest, I don't think Lacie overtly fits that theme anyway. Even, like, Sammy is iffy -- we don't really know what happened to him, only that he didn't used to be made of ink and worship Bendy, and now he does. We assume Joey's nonsense had something to do with what happened to him (though the books later assert his influence was indirect at best), because when there's a pattern, we can fill in the blank. So many fan creators found a place for Lacie, Grant, and Shawn in the cycle as butcher clones or lost ones, so many people imagined that Wally must be the Boris we meet, because that would've fit the pattern, the idea that the point of what we're seeing is the downfall of the studio. It's not actually that BatIM did a great job tying everything together -- it's that BatIM gave us a compelling idea and that was all it took to make everything else SEEM like it could find a place to fit. This is what I mean when I say BatIM's theme covers a multitude of sins. There's a LOT of characters in BatIM that don't make sense. There's a lot of inconsistencies and things that just sort of happen without any real reason. Characters don't really have "arcs" so much as different states they happen to be in at different times. But because there's a central question and the story doesn't wander away from it, our pattern-loving human brains will slot in all the pieces and do all the work to make the story feel at least somewhat coherent.

The things that happened in BatDR aren't a whole lot less coherent than BatIM imo, they just don't tie into a bigger theme or any of the questions the story's asking, making "how do they fit into all this" feel irrelevant, making it easier to forget entire sections and harder to get invested in audiolog characters. I think a lot of the other criticisms people have for BatDR's story are very valid, but I also suspect that if BatDR had a more successful theme/central question, then a lot of its flaws would be easier to overlook -- just like BatIM.

[1-49]

𝖳𝖮𝖴𝖱𝖨𝖲𝖳 𝖦𝖴𝖨𝖣𝖤 : The top 7 things you dont want to be doing when in Paris.

Imagine,

the brightest, most perfect winter’s day imaginable. Crisp, chilly, and beautiful. Warm cafés, busy streets, and gentle breezes ──── stellar architecture, metros, and museums. If anything, Paris is the most magical place on earth, but having Sungchan there makes it even more so.

That being said,

here is a list of the Top 8 things and situations to look out for, & don’t indulge in when you are in Paris if you don’t want to fall in love. A doomed guide for both tourists and locals, eh.

tags: fluff, love, sure it carries its angst though ⁝ fun concept to approach given i wasn’t going to write a fic nor it fits exactly into headcanon, so yeah. he has made me dizzy with his paris photos im sooo sorry. wc. 3k

Fan fact: The French term ‘Coup de foudre’ describes when someone feels completely blown away by someone they have recently met. In literal terms, it means lightning strike. If you have been ‘struck by lightning’ in this way, a common feeling is that you can tell the person everything bc they just get you

Good luck!

THE CRASH

A stunning stranger seated a short distance away from you in a small cafe is always a threat—but this is not just any stunning stranger. As you converse with your friend, he’s also conversing with his group of friends. Passing phones and a camera make their giggles sound like a good time. 

Every chance you get, you glance at him while speaking with your friend because it’s so tempting to do so. Little sparks shoot out the moment the stare is returned; when your gazes meet halfway; when he’s caught, too, for naively trying to get your attention.

When your friend catches on to the fact that you’re looking at what is behind her rather than her.

When she turns around to reinvestigate the situation and notices that he’s staring in your direction, she instantly understands.

When she gives him a smile and turns back to face you, who moved too slowly to stop her.

The stranger which then believes that you both had a conversation about him.

The friend who first exposed you is also the one who is now pushing you to use the restroom; for if he meets you halfway again, chances are good he’s into you too.

Her point is validated when you find yourself in a small hallway, pretending to scroll through your phone, as he moves toward you.

Scents of rich vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and wine fill the dimly lit secluded part of the café, which has burgundy walls. His physique is too large to fit in the narrow hallway. His eyes and smile translate love. His confession is full of tenderness, affection, & promising good times.

THE ‘NO’ PLAN

It’s already outside of your plan to plan the remainder of your day. Order breaks out. Chaos ensues. What was already set in motion was interrupted by him, a tourist named Sungchan. But a Paris show-off won’t be a show-off without a museum, so there goes that theory. 

In any case, a museum or art gallery is a must, so thirty minutes later, you are showing him around one of the many museums. The grand rooms echo with silence as you hope that the angels are praying for you to make it to the end of the tour. It’s simply so overwhelming to be next to such beauty. You can’t stop thinking how much he fits the scene. 

The line of his nose; his lips; the shadows of his collarbones; the wrinkles of his smile; the flow of your hair; the trickle of his laugh—for all of these, he is worthy of a museum.

So when you finally get your hands on the previously ‘passed-around’ camera, an exhibit of blue curiosities rests on his shoulders. Quickly, you take some pictures of him with the Rothko piece. It’s impossible to determine which is more beautiful—him or the artwork. 

There are repercussions for that, as he leads you to allow him to take a picture of you—his ulterior motive, though, to have a picture of you forever. You’ll be with him no matter what, even after he leaves this city and you behind.

JUST TOURISTY THINGS

Time will separate the two of you, just as a river divides Paris, but as you continue to stroll beside the Seine, where musicians sing of hopeless love and painters craft their works in the open, the issue of time is not a priority. If anything, all the time in the world at this moment is yours.

He grabs your hands and spins the two of you around, his hair brushed with sun-kissed shades of cinnamon brown. Claiming he isn’t immune to music, so you can’t be critical and should just follow his example.

But when the spinning becomes too intense and he feels lightheaded, he tries to steady himself by staring into your eyes for longer than he should. Your proximity scares you, but you’re concerned and ask if he’s okay. 

A smile appears on his face as a result of your concern for him, while a heavenly presence is tipping from his eyes as he’s making a promise that he’s good, if not better than ever.

A smile that inspires hope & makes you believe. A smile that undoubtedly had great power to bring you both to this point. He’s beautiful in every sense. Mentality, personalty, appearance.

He’s even surpassing the Eiffel Tower in terms of beauty with ease!

Your captured images, with him as the subject, create the most ideal postcards, and as you’re showing them to him, it’s when a feeling of sad nostalgia envelops you prior to even parting ways with him. You come to the realization that you desire to spend more time with him, not just one day.

But all you get is one day... 

A magic day... that is gradually starting to turn into a night—and as the two of you walk on the fresh-washed gravel paths through the Luxembourg Gardens, the wind becomes clearer and sharper.

Even the bare trees, which you’re used to seeing against the sky, seem to be feeling the warmth of his touch as he insists on pushing and spreading his fingers inside your palm. His vibrance makes even the leafless trees feel less lonely. He takes your hand in such a way that you aren’t even allowed to give him a warning look. Hand in hand, you have no choice but to chase after him.

NO DESTINATION BACK UP

Does it even matter that he doesn’t know the city? 

The ecstasy you are running on is surley telling you that it’s all about getting lost and  discovering yourself in unfamiliar places—and that’s all because of him.

The startled look in this stranger’s eyes as you two nearly cross a street at a red light due to his rushing… 

As he begins to apologize while biting his lower lip, claiming he didn’t mean to. 

His deer-eyes in the headlights are all that you can focus on really. It’s tempting to say, ‘It’s okay,’ but there is something about his apologetic expression that makes you feel as though he’s completely enclosing you in his gaze. 

His eyes are hugging you while he apologizes. It has been a long time since you felt something like that—felt completely safe. Sincerely, and risk-free. He’s a walking green light. So then, it’s a bit sadistic of you to wish for his apology to last longer. 

But how can you not?

When his hand squeezes yours even harder, and he turns all starry eyes while biting his lip in fear?

Someone you would definitely want to try and fit into your pocket, regardless of his height or width.

CRAMPED SPACES

When the cruelness of the night finally reaches your bones, chasing a tiny, romantic restaurant is the only way to soothe the cold.

The warmth of the atmosphere meshes with his gray cardigan, and you find yourself moving more and more into his comfort zone due to the crowded space, where many are seeking refuge for the same reason as you two. 

His rich scent fills the air around you and his knees keep touching yours due to the close proximity. The wine glass dangles in his hand and his lips become more and more affected, picking up a cherry hue.

His collarbones exhibit every movement of his body, and for whatever reason, you feel an insatiable urge to reach for the soft, grey wool and uncover more.

You’re so invested in this delicate area it’s making you feel absolutely irrational. The constant spreading of his hand through his lush hair and pushing it behind is only adding to your obsession. Regardless of how often he does this, the silky hair flies back into his eyes every time.

He has this habit of dipping his small fork into your chocolate mousse, taking a bite, then flirting while he listens to you talk and plays with the fork, letting the sharp tips sink into his soft lips.

The gesture merely begs for your attention, so in order to stay true to yourself, you greet him by clinking glasses with him. But as soon as his glass touches yours, you have to look him in the eyes again and be so sincere... You lose either way.

This gorgeous person’s natural flirtatious charm can’t be escaped. His focus shifting between your lips and eyes as he attentively listens to you is quite possibly the hottest thing about him. 

And although he insists on practising some French words, he continually mispronounces ‘croissants’ and ‘creme brulee’. He got ‘Bonjour’, ‘Bonsoir’, and ‘baguette’ right, which is worthy of notice; and the greatest reward would be a peck on the cheek, which he hasn’t yet received...

The fork remains sunk in his lips. If there’s one dessert that can be described as the ‘most scrumptious’, it’s him.

UNDERGROUND MISHAPS

Running with him in hand is a somewhat exciting experience. You aren’t sure where he got his stamina, but you’re sprinting down the stairs and will have some downtime when you two board the next metro.

When you reach underground platform though, a sea of tourists waits impatiently to go home or explore the outside world.

His hand carefully slides around your waist as you wait, standing side by side, your chests exploding from all the running. Whether it’s to protect you or keep you to himself, the intent is unclear.

And just as you’re about to look up to give him another warning glance, you realize that you’ve already forgotten how many there were. His adorable facial expressions are the reason you never succeed.

Obviously, the wine has increased his energy—his feelings are in his eyes. 

His features quickly and suddenly take on an emotive tone. A line appears between his brows and a hint of melancholy on his face as recognition dawns. Maybe the effects of the end of the day are finally starting to catch up with him.

You realize that he’s a lot of fun—the type of person who always sees the glass half full but who is also, presumably, grounded enough to realize that something is in the way and the glass isn’t quite enough full. Though he’ll eventually have to face it... saying goodbye to you is probably the biggest treat.

His hand is trembling inside yours...

... whether from anger, sadness, or excitement, it can be all of them or then

“Sungchan,”

You barely have time to finish what you started before he pulls you in and gives you a hug. Metros, come and go. People are walking past you, but he freezes this moment.

His coat’s lapels seem kind enough to part away, giving you more personal space and allowing your ear to fall directly on his heart.

His hand falls effortlessly over your head, as soft as a snowflake as he says, “It’d ruin everything if we said anything. Let’s not.��� He carasses your hair and then plants a kiss.

A hug so strong that it keeps you safe from the passing of time. 

However, even this beam of sunshine has a heart, and it rains. Not even he has the complete ability to stop time from passing. The earth orbits, and the leaves dissipate.

Though what he can do is, 

he can certainly seize some of the light in the circumstance as he pulls on your hand once more, making the promise of, “Trust me.”

FALLING IN LOVE

There is definitely a sense of a ‘Trust me’ irony in the situation however, about how you won’t fall in love with him.

He seems to be pointing you in the direction of the photo booth at the end of the platform, which he noticed while your bodies were merging together. 

You’re fairly certain that those will be your favourite, worst-ever photos of the two of you, but the only memory you can physically hug, so you decide not to argue.

Naturally, the cubicle is small, but what do you expect from a metro photo booth?

The sweet giant battles his height and shoulders to enter, and when he does, he just hovers above you, looking down. His palms pressed against two different walls, and his neck bent at an awkward angle because you have taken all the ‘what can hardly be called a’ seat. 

Like it is your fault, right?

With a tongue poke to his cheek and raised brows, he’s subtly advising you to do ‘this one thing.’

Like hell, “I’m not sitting in your lap,” you bat your eyelashes at him. 

“It’s too late to back out. Plus, I don’t think there’s any other way to make this work.”

The goofy grin morphs his whole face into what it would be to stand under the sun; his cheeks rise higher the more he shows teeth. He’s so cute. It melts your heart.

Your mouth stays open in shock as you say, “But it is you who wanted this,” before you endearingly defend yourself. “This was your idea.” How very ‘trust me’ of him. In the end, you accept. “Okay, fine,” you sulk while pouting.

Satisfied, he clicks his tongue. You both knew that you would accept; you just wanted to have some fun, didn’t you?

You eventually create room for him to sit, but when it comes time for you to sit, you hesitate. But then you feel his hands dragging your waist down, and the next thing you know, you’re in his lap. He has lost all patience.

You sigh with annoyance, but even you know it is all a front. 

Now hesitant to move, your back remains pressed against his chest, and you’re even halfway there trying to maintain your balance on your feet instead of lounging comfortably in his lap. However, his back hug is particularly effective because it feels like his palm is pressing deeper into your tummy, encouraging you to relax even more into him.

His thighs radiate unnecessary heat, and his warm breath tickles the side of your neck as his chin rests on your shoulder. He teases you, whispering, “You can face me you know, I don’t bite.”

There is an absolute anarchy, there beneath his palm, in your belly. Not the whispering tone!! 

You tilt your head back (ironically, letting it rest where his shoulder and neck meet), gazing at the near ceiling and mentally calculating the number of seconds until you lose your mind.

He rests with you, for a minute, or two… his heart densely kicking in your back, but you swear it’s a peaceful moment. He’s able to magically stop the flow of time, no matter what!

Perhaps outside of the small world that you two inhabit, the metro passes by for the fifth time, and perhaps the waiting area is swept by cleaners once more while your shoes peek out from under the curtain, threatening to blow your cover.

However, time never really stops—especially in this place, the City of Light, Paris, a city that never sleeps.

“Let—um” His voice cracks for the first time before he finally says, “Uh—Let us take those pictures.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the angst of the situation to have its way with you before turning to face him.

His brows appear flat, and the crack between them is even deeper than it used to be. Even his lips are fuller than they used to be. Or could it simply be the face-to-face intimacy that is causing them to appear in such a way?

All this time, you thought it was just a playful lust, an undeniable attraction, when, in fact, what you’re finding is love—love looking straight into your eyes.

You no longer need to hold it within you. You just admit it, completely aware that nothing will change but that it will undoubtedly have some significance because it’s better to let things out than to hold them inside.

“Sungchan,” you pause for a moment, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Like you haven’t already felt them, he takes your hand and puts it over his heart, allowing you to feel the butterflies surging through his chest. Your lips to your eyes is the route he prefers to travel most. “I don’t want to leave either,” he admits voice light and airy.

As you look at him, every time the photo booth camera flashes a bright light, the butterflies burst rhythmically—because of that, and as much at the magic, and at the calculated touch of a girl who, in the past, had learned to trust no one. Yet, here you are, choosing to trust someone you have just met & won’t see again.

Your hands tremble against his cheeks as you gently cup his face and begin your slow, careful inspection. His tense muscles slowly relax under your touch as you run a finger across the peak of his eyebrow.

You feel an influx of emotions as you begin to understand that this person is an angel. You’re tracing every inch of him into your brain—soaking up every star in his eyes and every mole on his face—because an angel like this can never be met twice...

His greatest quality, you think, even in this kind of ‘damned’ situation, is that he can’t stay serious; a smile lights up his face. The only word that adequately expresses how you feel is wanting to ‘devour’ the damned smile that lingers close to your lips. He’s irresistible.

Cute or sexy are terms that are so confusing with him. You aren’t sure to which he’s supposed to be leaning towards. It’s driving you crazy. He simply can not be defined.

And the more he holds you, the more confident he gets. He started off politely, treating you like a paper bird, and then he abruptly stops apologizing. His lashes start to make out slowly with the narrow look he gives you. His thumb glides over your bottom lip. There is only one meaning to it.

Conversely, the photos taken are sitting in the photo outlet. You whisper, “Sungchan,” gesturing to the pictures and apparently indicating that ‘your work here is done.’ 

His firm grip on your jaw, however, fiercely brings your face into his. His winey breath is coating your lips.

“But,” you knit your brows, “our series of pho—”

His index finger stops your lips from moving mid-sentence. “Let’s make another one.”

“You—you’re getting too comfortable in this,” You stagger over what you are saying as his nose brushes against yours, “for-for well, for something that will never happen again.” 

“That’s exactly why I need those photos,” he says, chewing the inside of his cheeks in response to your somewhat insensitive comment.

“And we—And we,” you keep breaking, “We’ve been her—

“Can I kiss you?” He brutally cuts you off.

His sugary lower lip is already pressed against yours. It no longer interests him what you’re saying. It’s a quiet question, but there is some dangerously real intent behind it.

Yes, but can he beg for a kiss?

Sure,

as if he’s breathing in the air that he knows he’ll be missing out on, his lips remain waiting for a sign before they get messy.

His thumb ignites ‘instant fire’ in every pore on your cheek with each precise circle. It’s more like he is consuming you in advance. 

Your thoughts are numb, and your heart is stuck in your throat. You don’t want to forget any part of it all, and you’re bound to in the high you’re experiencing right now... He was right when he advised it to be documented.

The gaping mouths. The tender lip-stroking. The deep, slow breathing. The hot air exchange.

His teeth clenched in pain. The energy he surrounds you with is so intense.

Your “Fuck!”

& Sungchan’s “Please,”

occur simultaneously.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[chrollohearttags]

musician!eren proposes to influencer!y/n before goin on tour. when they get home, it's romantic as hell; candles lit, rose petals in the bed. Overall, jus some sweet ass romantic soft sex.

my faves! my faves! my faves! 😩 and here I was having withdrawals for them. say less.

cw: just some sickeningly sweet sex with my fav ship :( , food and ice play (if you squint), oral (f. receiving) pregnancy mention, breeding

Eren’s comeback tour was something himself, you and all his fans alike had been anticipating. Going from city to city..performing a track list comprised of new joints and old favorites. He received amicable praise on his shows and had quite the time while on the road. Especially with his favorite lady by his side. The two of you exploring the country’s finest as future husband and wife. See, Eren had just popped the question shortly before he started his string of concerts. Elated as you were, more so to be by his side..you guys hadn’t properly celebrated the proposal..at least in the way that he wanted to! He wasn’t one for showing off or flexing for the public eye but lord, did this man go all out in private! The day you touched down back in your city, (y/n) was in for one hell of a surprise! Having already called up his assistant and some other help prior, Eren wanted you guys’ homecoming to be one that would never be forgotten. In addition to having them decorate the entire living room with a giant rose arrangement that spelled out ‘will you marry me?’ setting in the corner. As if he needed that validation once more. “I just wanna hear you say it again…tell me you’re mine..” cooing sweetly as you stood at the bottom of the staircase; immersed in his grasp and his finger underneath your chin as he gave you sweet kisses. And you of course said yes, with the same elation and excitement in your eyes as the initial one. He also a had a line of gifts waiting for you.

He’s been holding back and resisting his urges all throughout the tour. Being stuffed up on that bus with other people made it quite irksome. Sure, you had your fair share of hookups on there but not the experience you deserved. (Y/N) was no longer just some hopeless fling..a girl he’d fly out when he wanted some ass. No, you were his wife, bride to be and the woman he’d undoubtedly spend the rest of his life with. You deserved to be treated like a queen..his queen. Eventually, those cute little butterfly kisses turned to a full blown make-out session..getting lost in one another right there. However, there was way more to this extravagant surprise.. “..let’s go upstairs, okay? Get a little more comfortable.” muttering gently against your lips in a light huff before tugging away.

awaiting you beyond those doors was something you wouldn’t have believed. Akin to a scene from a movie, there were red rose petals scattered about the floor, leading up to the bed, candles flickering and burning underneath the dimmed lighting..along with some champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and some ice displayed neatly on a nearby stand. It was like a scene from a movie but never did you think you’d experience this in your lifetime. “Erennn..you didn’t..this is—“ before you could get too teary eyed, he grabs your hand, placing a kiss to your forehead and ushers you over to the bed. “This is all for you, princess..for us. It’s just me and you now. No interruptions, no work..I’m all yours.” Affirming all of this whole slowly removing the straps of that silk bodycon dress from your smooth shoulders and replacing them with kisses; that ethereal complexion glistening underneath the embers of the flames.

There was one more humble request he had asked of his team and that was to be left the hell alone for the next week. To not be disturbed with anything not pertaining to the matters of your body. He wanted you to himself..selfishly and hopelessly so he could make up for the all the lost time he had taken away. Starting by feeding you the strawberries..rubbing them slowly against your lips before letting you take a bite. Meanwhile, he’s starting to come out his clothes as well..discarding that black button down and slacks he has on. Far more dressed up than his normal Dunks and gym sweats and the only thing you wanted was to see him out of it. So low and behold, that’s what happened. You two eventually rendered yourselves nude, stripped out of everything and entangled in the bedsheets. Rubbing your hands across each other’s bodies, kissing and touching like you couldn’t get enough. Working his way down your neck to your stomach and thighs with a frozen cube between his teeth, Eren made a trail of gentle kisses all over that beautiful body..marking you up inch by inch until he reached your soaking center. Parting your thighs so that he could get in between. He wanted to take his precious time and spoil you with all the love he neglected to give out on tour..

taking the time to carefully taste your flavor; flick his tongue up and throughout your folds and suck on that sensitive clit, rub some cool ice on it and let it melt against your warmth until you’d fill his mouth with your sweet juices. Underneath those candle lights, your future husband masked his muffled whimpers with that plump, newly waxed mound. Your fingers tucked between the strands of his hair, guiding him along and he’d let you. All those nights you had to cut your sessions short out of fear of waking someone or him being too exhausted to do much..he wanted you to take all those frustrations out of his face! Ride his tongue until you had the sides of his face sticky as far as he was concerned. “You can come as many times as you want, beautiful. Don’t hold back..” encouraging with your fingers intertwined as he held your hands. And that you did, even stimulating yourself to tears, which he was happy to wipe away as he leaned up to let your lips meet in a steamy, passionate kiss.

“I love you, (y/n)…I’m so sorry we didn’t get to do this right the first time but I promise I’ll make it up to you..” saying all of this as he’s slowly making his way inside of you. Legs spreading on instinct and wrapping around his waist before he began to thrust. The two of you have holding each other close as he begins thrusting up into you. Your hands around his neck as he cradled his face into the crook of yours. Slowly he begins to give you long, leg shaking strokes.

Ones that have you clutching his shoulder blades and clawing your nails into his back..oh, he loves when he’s fucking you so good, it leaves him scarred. A sign that he’s doing it right. Eventually, the bed begins to shake and you’re moving the headboard. It’s getting deeper; swelling up inside of you and (y/n) just relentlessly begs for more. “Don’t stop, baby. Please keep fucking me…just like that.” Crying out in a tearful plea..whimpering and moaning as he gave every inch and part of himself to the woman he loved. Soon, those same tears would fall from his cheeks and he’d just push past that tightness, finding home inside of you..the feeling, the sensation of knowing that this was his and no one else would ever make you feel this way. You’d explain breathy ‘I love you’s’ and climaxes alike. He’s continue to make you come and before you knew it, he had filled you up twice. Flipping you around in every position until you found yourself on top of him, hand to his chest and on your final strides. Those green eyes glossed over in pure ecstasy but he had to let you have one more. Lying across his torso with his hands on your ass, you’d grind slow and let him pulsate inside of you. “Swear ‘m get you pregnant…oh fuck. Want you to have my baby, (y/n)..” whether he was delirious or dead serious, you wanted to feel that warm nut spill into you one last time. With that sweet voice, you’d urge him or rather beg for his last big load. You tell him it’s his and he takes that as he should, pouring every last drop he had to offer into that womb.

you lie there completely spent, latched in each other’s arms and ready for this type of treatment until death did you part.

[hoodharlow]

Oasis

AN: I was writing Jack and Miriam fucking in the studio, but then I was like "what if I make it kinda enemies to lovers. Gif from @harlowgifs <3

Requested? My coochie

Warnings: smut, jealous!Jack if you squint

Word Count: 3.2k words

“How can you hate him? He’s literally the sweetest guy ever.” Violeta’s best friend/ stylist/ assistant, Cleo,went on and on.

“You say that because you haven’t been stuck with him for over twelve hours at the studio.” Violeta rolled her eyes, pushing herself up from the ground. 

She was picking outfits for the press tour of the Gloria Trevi biopic she was cast in, and she was playing the iconic artist. The press tour started in a few weeks, but Violeta wanted everything ready so she could focus on finishing up her sophomore album. She was nervous, her first album basically skyrocketed her career. Just last year she won both categories she was nominated for at the Grammys, best new artist and best latin pop album. It was validating because, according to her fans, she was snubbed the Latin Grammys. There was a lot of anticipation and pressure for her. Which was why her team and Jack’s teams thought they would make a good collaboration. 

Their fans began shipping them when they were seen together at this year’s Met Gala red carpet, waiting for their turn to walk up the stairs. Her fans loved how Jack managed to make her laugh because Violeta was known for her resting bitch face and it was rare for her fans to get candids of her smiling. 

They agreed and their mutual friend Nickie Jon was helping them produce it. What Jack and Violeta didn’t expect was they would end up disagreeing on everything. It was Violeta’s song for her upcoming sophomore album, but Jack took it over and kept changing things. It caused arguments between them that Nickie texted them both to either find a new producer or they hash out their shit because he was tired of getting stuck in the middle of them. Now Jack was showing up to her condo so they could hash it out because they both wanted Nickie to work with them.  

“If I was stuck twelve hours in a room with Jack Harlow, I wouldn’t leave until every surface is painted white.” Cleo said.

“You’re gross.” Violeta grimaced. 

She went to her walk-in closet and picked a black mini dress from Mirror Palais with flower trims along the straps and the neckline. She paired the look with Doc Marten mary janes and some white ankle socks for a preppy look. She came back out and began doing her makeup. She was doing a subtle look with some concealer, light contour and a simple eyeliner look. 

“If you can’t stand him, why are you getting all dolled up?” Cleo asked.

“I’m not getting dolled up, I don’t want to look dead. I got home like four hours ago and slept for two hours.” she explained. 

The night before she went to some label party and then hit up the after party with some of their friends, Nikie, and some other people. Nickie drove her home when it ended. Violeta knew Nickie for a few years. He was one of the first producers she worked with when she got signed to Atlantic Records. They had an older brother and younger sister dynamic, and it annoyed (and grossed out) when people thought they were an item. 

“I’m going to leave you so you can finish getting ready for your lil date.” Cleo smiled sweetly. 

“It’s not a date; he hates me, remember.” Violeta reminded her. 

“Vee, I’m just saying. There has to be more to it than him suddenly hating you. Maybe he’s just jealous.”

“Oh what?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Cleo shrugged and took all the leftover clothes, shoes, and accessories they didn’t use for the outfit planning. 

Violeta finished getting ready half an hour after her best friend left and began cleaning up. She went downstairs and found Rocky, her three year old boxer-pitbull rescue, laid out in the balcony overlooking the gate. It reminded her of the times she would visit her dad’s pueblo and see the dogs on the roof guarding their houses. She whistled him and he got up from the spot, following her outside so he could do his business. Violeta was picking up his business when she saw Jack’s car pull up to the gate through the slits. 

Rocky sensed him and began growling at Jack. He was about to press the intercom when Rocky barked at him. 

“Let me get a leash.” Violeta called from the other side of the garage. 

She patted Rocky’s side, motioning him to follow her. He obliged and went inside. Violeta wrestled on his harness and clicked on his leash. They made their way back down to the gate. She opened the door and stepped out with Rocky. 

“Sit.” she told the three year old puppy. He sat next to her and eyed Jack, who was carrying a drink tray and a bag of food. She waved him over. 

“He doesn’t bite, right?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“Only if I say so.” she said nonchalantly. She giggled when she saw Jack get almost translucent. “I’m kidding. He’s trained and very friendly. You just showed up when he was doing his business.”

“Oh.” he said in a quiet voice, taking a few steps forward. 

“Rocky, this is my friend Jack. He knows Tio Nickie and he’s going to help me make a song.” she explained to the puppy. She reached for Jack’s hand and brought it to him. 

Rocky sniffed his hand and got excited. He yipped and nuzzled his face into his hand. Jack gave him a few scratches and just like that they were besties. 

The three of them went inside the gate. Jack watched as Violeta locked her gate and put in a code. He followed her up the stairs getting a great view of her ass under her short dress. 

“Welcome to my crib, or whatever people would say on MTV.” she gestured unenthusiastically. 

Rocky had gone back to his spot out on the balcony, leaving them standing in the entryway. 

“I, uh, got you a drink. Nickie said you like the matcha latte with strawberries, so I brought you one.” Jack said, pulling up her drink from the drink tray. 

“Oh, thanks.” she said. “So, uh, let’s go work on the song.” 

She led him to the basement, which was just another room next to the garage since the rest of the rooms were on top of the garage. She converted it into a home studio. It had everything any artist could possibly need. 

Jack looked around reading all her plaques, posters and her awards. He knew of Violeta, and heard a few of her English songs, but he didn't know she was as popular as she is. 

“You play?” He asked, nodding his head at the piano. 

“Obviously, why else would it be here?” she snapped at him. 

Jack frowned. “What the fuck is your problem? I asked a fucking question and you get all defensive.” 

“So I’m not supposed to defend myself when some dude questions my work ethic?” Violeta frowned. 

“I'm not questioning shit!” He said defensively. He passed his hand over his curls in frustration. “You’re such a piece of work. I don’t even know why I agreed to this shit.”

“Oh fuck you–” 

“In your dreams.” Jack snapped.

“Why would I dream about having disappointing sex?” She retorted.

Jack walked up to her, backing her into the wall and leaned down in her ear. “The only disappointing thing about having sex with me is that I would ruin dick for you. After me no one would ever compare and you’re going to spend the rest of your life hoping someone can try to satisfy you.” His hand slowly inched up the outside of her thigh, making Violeta swallow audibly. “Bet your pussy is dripping for me.” 

“It's drier than the desert in Sonora.” She said. 

It wasn’t. If Jack moved his hand in between her thighs, he’d find a waterfall. “Mhm,” he nodded, taking a step back. He sat on a chair and opened his backpack and pulled out his notes. “So last night I was thinking about cleaning up the bass you had and– what?” 

He stopped talking when he saw Violeta look at him angrier than ever. 

“You can’t tease someone like that and then go about your day.” She scowled. 

Jack set his notebook down on the soundboard and smirked. “So you admit it, I made you wet.” 

“What– No! That’s not what I meant. I…” Violeta rambled on. 

“Then what did you mean?” He asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

He leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs ever so slightly. He had not right to be doing that to her. Not when she's supposed to no be attracted to him. Truthfully she’d been wanting to fuck him since the Met Gala and she’d been sexually frustrated because she hoped to see him at the after party, but he never showed. Nickie later told her that Jack was a homebody and only went to the Met because he had just released his album and needed the promo. 

“You still haven’t answered my question: what did you mean?” He said, casually. 

“Nothing, let’s get back to work.” Violeta waved him off.

Jack didn’t say anything else. He watched her as she stood in front of the soundboard, typing away on her computer. She pulled up their song and fixed the buttons so they were in at the song's settings. 

“Okay, so I was thinking we add more bass to it.” Violeta said, playing a snippet. 

Jack shook his head. “It has the right amount, you just have to make it tighter.” He got up and pressed his chest on her back as he fixed up the beat. When he finished he played it back. It sounded perfect. “Like I said–” 

Violeta cut him off, pulling him to a kiss. The kiss was messy. The urgency between them increased as lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his hips. She pulled him closer by his shirt, wanting more of him. She moaned in his mouth when she felt his fingertips brush her panties. 

Jack nipped and sucked down her neck to find her sweet spot. He barely caught her strangled moan when he nipped the spot between her jaw and neck. He repeated his actions, earning a louder moan from her. He pulled away and pushed her down on the soundboard. Jack peeled off her thong, tossing it behind him. He got down on his knees and pulled Violeta closer to her. He placed her legs on his shoulders. 

“Every desert has an oasis and I think I found mine.” He told her. 

Without breaking eye contact he spit on her entrance and dug in. He devoured her like he'd been in the desert for an eternity and she was the only who could satisfy his hunger and thirst. Violeta gripped his curls, keeping his head in place as she lifted her hips.  

After a while Jack sat up and pushed her legs to her chest, so she was more exposed to him. With one hand, he pulled down the top part of her dress, exposing her breasts. He roughly squeezed them as he continued to eat her out. His nose pressed on her clit, making her a moaning mess. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. With his fingers still fucking her at an agonizing slow pace, he sat Violeta up and brought her mouth to his. Jack's beard was dampened by her arousal, a few drops fell onto her neck, rolling down to her chest. 

“I'm close…shit—Jack!” She whimpered and reached down to his wrist.

She tightly gripped the edge of the counter as she came. Once her high faded, Jack let go and let her lean into him. He slipped his fingers out of her and licked them clean, moaning at how delicious she tasted. 

“Face the sound board.” Jack said and Violeta complied.

She got down and turned around facing the glass wall infront of them. There was a faint reflection and Violeta watched him take off his shirt and pushed down his pants. She looked over her shoulder and saw him stroking his length. 

Violeta's jaw nearly dropped at the size of his cock. She heard the crinkling of a condom wrapped then she felt his breath on her shoulders when he approached, standing behind her. His hand gently pushed her down onto the table and her cheek pressed against the cool wood. 

“Ready?” He asked her. 

“Yes.” she nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. 

Jack slid into her and Violeta let out a  pornographic moan. He smirked, grabbing at her hands to pin them behind her back for balance as slowly fucked her. Within minutes, she wanted to tap out, he was more than she could handle, but at the same she couldn’t get enough of him. Jack let go of her hands and his hands gripped her waist as he slowly rocked into her. As the minutes passed, his thrusts got rougher, and Violeta couldn’t hold back. She begged Jack to keep fucking her at that slow and rough pace she never knew existed. 

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went back down to her clit. Jack worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Violeta. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. 

“Who’s the only guy who can fuck you like this?” Jack asked. He leaned over, pressing his chest against her back.

“You.” She said breathlessly. 

“What’s my name?” He asked in a possessive tone.

“Jack.” Violeta whimpered.

“No one else gets to fuck you like this.” He egged her on. 

“No one else.” she agreed. 

“Not Nickie.” Jack grunted. “Just me.”

“Only you Jack.”

Those three words were enough to send Jack over the edge. He moaned out her name. His thrusts got sloppy and finally he pulled out, resting his hands on either side of Violeta's body on the table as he leaned forward, hunching over and catching his breath. After few minutes he pulled off the condom, tossing it in a trash bin, and put on his clothes once more. 

He opened his notebook and continued, “So I as I was saying…”

*** Three Months Later ***

At midnight, or nine pm Pacific time, Violeta’s sophomore album, Oasis, comes out. She only released two singles off the album: a random ballad and her song with Jack. Their song became an instant hit, debuting at number one and it remained at number one for six weeks. They were currently nominated for a few VMAs for their song and collab. For all her successes, her team is hosting an album release party/listening party in LA for her and the other artists she worked with on her album. 

Violeta was dressed to the nines in an ice blue halter mini dress with feathers all over. She wore silver strappy heels that wrapped around all the way her thighs. She was the only one that color. She jokingly told her manager that she wanted everyone else in black or white when they were planning her party. Her manager made it happen for her, and everyone who wasn't in black or white, was turned away. 

She spotted Jack at table with his friends and Nickie. After they hooked up, they never spoke about it. He acted like nothing happened and when they were in public he made it clear they were only friends. She wouldn't have cared; she's a professional and knew how to act, but what gotnher was that he was right. He ruined sex for her no one lived up to him. 

“Are you going to stop eye fucking him anr finally to fuck you again?” Cleo asked Violeta. 

“I wasn’t eye fucking him.” Violeta said, fluffing out the feathers in her dress. 

“It's okay to admit you have a think for him.” Her best friend reassured her.

“But I don't.” she denied. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Before she could say anything Violeta’s manager grabbed her wrist and pulled to away.

“Okay, ten seconds.” Violeta’s manager yelled in a mic to get everyone’s attention. 

She gathered everyone around to the dance floor. She counted off until and it was finally 9pm. Her manager went on to make a speech about how proud of Violeta she was and how grateful she was of watching grow into the artist she is. She signaled the DJ to play the album. 

Violeta’s eyes Jack’s eyes from across the dance floor. She lifted her champagne flute at him as his voice echoed the room. 

“‘Who’s the only guy who can fuck you like this?”’

‘“You.”

‘“What’s my name?”’ 

It cut to the actual song before she actually said his name. She smirked and danced along with Cleo and her other friends. By song three she was tired and went to her VIP section to get a water. Tired of her heels, she sat on one of the couches. 

“Way to start your album with a climax.” Jack said, sitting next to her. He playfully nudged his shoulder agisnt hers. “Congrats by the way. Drama let me listen to it a few days ago and it’s fucking good. Did I understand 65% of what you were singing? No, but I fucked with it.” 

“Thanks, I really appreciate it and thank you for being a part of it. ”

“What AI program did you use to get my voice?” he asked curiously.

Violeta felt her whole body get hot. She g giggled nervously. “Apparently we recorded ourselves that one time and this producer suggested embed it the song.” 

Jack hummed in response. The pair sat in silence watching everyone else dance and vibe to Violeta’s album. Itnwas only the two of them in the VIP area.

“Why did you mention Nickie when you were fucking me?” She found herself asking Jack.

“I was jealous because every time we’re at the studio I try to talk to you, you ignore me and only talk to Nickie.” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t ignore you.” she crossed her arms. 

“Yes, you did. I try to contribute something, but you were too focused on Nickie to notice. If you two are a thing, my bad for bending you over that night.” he shrugged. 

“Ew! Nickie is the brother I never had.” she pretended to gag. “He’s the last person I’d fuck.”

“Now I’m embarrassed for thinking that.”

“Was it also why you were a dick to me in the beginning?” Violeta asked him.

“As immature and pathetic as it sounds, yes. Not to toot my own horn, but in our friend group I’m the guy who gets the girls' attention first then the guys. I guess I got jealous that he knew you and you were comfortable around him.” he met her gaze. “I’m sorry for being rude to you and constantly picking fights with you. I’m well aware that shit was stupid.”

“Apology accepted.” she smiled softly. 

“I can apologize in a few different ways.” Jack smirked. 

Violeta gasped, feigning innocence. “Buy me dinner first. I’m a classy woman.”

“You used a recording of us fucking in your song, but if you want me to ask you out that’s you had to say.”

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux ​ @carma-fanficaddict ​ @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy ​ @babyharleezy ​ @that-90s-girllll ​ @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract

[bookishtheaterlover7]

How Long Could We Be A Sad Song?

a/n: Well, it's here! The fic that I'm most anxious to write and post. Honestly, I wrote this and got inspiration when I was in my most upset and angsty mood. Which was a few months ago, and it's been sitting within the pages of Maddie (my writing notebook), and my drafts. And somehow through a very frustrating bout of Writer's Block, as well as, the fact that I was reminded and paired my own feelings to "Taylor Swift's You're Losing Me", put it into a moodboard and boom! This fic was born.

Normally, I'd dedicate this to a special friend. But this time, I'd like to deviate, and dedicate this to myself. Weird, I know. This time though, this fic will remind me that every emotion, and every feeling is valid and if vented properly, can and will flourish into something productive and beautiful.

Alright. That's enough talk from me. I hope you all enjoy the fic. And I also hope I didn't crush you, cause well... it's angst, what else can I say? 😆

Chris Evans x Secret Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: No

WARNINGS: Panic Attacks, Angst, Established Relationship, Relationship Drama, Sad Chris, Sad Dodger

Heartbreak Divider by @firefly-graphics

Enjoy!!!

*Y/C/F/M = Your Close Family Member

Outside, the night was quiet, and peaceful. The crickets calling into the night air, frogs singing in unison, adding to the ambiance. Even the noisiest neighbor seemed to have taken some time off from being the thorn on everyone’s side. But while the world seemed almost frozen, Y/n sat in her living room, her heart pounding in her ears, and a knot forming in the pit of her stomach after she told the Love of her Life that she wanted to end their 6-year relationship. The sad part was, Chris seemed so lost as Y/n’s words hung in the air.

“I-I don’t understand...” He finally said, looking up at her from resting his head between his legs, across their living room. The space feeling more like chasm the longer this dragged on.

“I know you don’t, Chris.” Y/n sighed, getting up from her chair, and kneeling beside Chris, before taking his trembling hands in hers, hoping to give him some comfort, knowing that he could spiral into a Panic Attack in his fragile state. She knew because, if she didn’t do it for herself, she’d do the same.

They let the silence of their built home surround them, like a warm blanket. Both knew that they were only delaying the inevitable, but they selfishly wanted to hang on to what little time they had left together.

Time felt like it slowed, as Y/n’s gaze remained focused on their joined hands. Taking her back to a time years ago, on a bench, when Chris first saved Y/n...

She had been touring New York with her family, unfortunately, the crowds were too overwhelming for her, and while they were forming their lines to enter the theater of some play, Y/n couldn’t focus her breathing long enough to look at the marquee, and her chest felt tighter and tighter, as she told *Y/C/F/M that she’d like to grab a bite from the stall she saw near a bench, a few ways back, and left before he/she/they could protest.

She took advantage of the open air, and tried to regulate her breathing, by taking slow deep breaths, before arriving and collapsing on the bench. Resting her head against the back of it and feeling and inhaling the passing fresh breeze. The tightness in her chest was still there, and she continued taking deep breaths in order to regulate her breathing, not even noticing the handsome stranger, standing next to her.

“Uh, hi! Excuse me? Miss? Ar-are you okay?” He greeted, his blue eyes gleaming, as Y/n took a big breath before answering.

“Huh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine, Sir. Just feeling a little overwhelmed. Is all.” She laughed, wiping her cheeks. Just noticing that there were tears running down them.

“I get that. No matter how many times you do this, or come here, it can still get overwhelming... May I?” The stranger asked, gesturing to the empty space next to her. To which she nodded and scooted over a little to give him some room.

He put his bag down between his legs, opened one of the pockets and pulled out a couple of tissues, before handing them to her. That Y/n gratefully accepted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“The city is actually quite beautiful, but I’d prefer it if it didn’t have so many goings on, you know?” She said, breaking the comfortable silence that settled over them.

“Oh, I definitely know. It’s places like this right here, though, that helps.” He said, admiring the way the bench overlooked a cluster of buildings in the most picturesque way.

“Is that an invitation to meet here again?” Y/n laughed.

“Maybe... Are you going to take me up on it?” The stranger laughed, his face expressing hope.

“I might...” She smiled, holding her hand out, now being able to breathe easier.

“Y/n.”

“Chris.” He replied, taking it and shaking it.

It wasn’t until Y/n returned to the theater that she realized WHO she had just met. And it definitely took her a while to shake it off, and, even if it seemed like a fluke at the time, she was pretty sure that Chris winked at her from the stage that night.

She was thankful for how he helped her. And it just became a thing for them to do the other, even a couple years later, when Chris was presented a way to possibly earn money during the pandemic.

Y/n focused her gaze on the mantel, her mind wandering to when she and Chris first made this place into their home. Moving things around, deciding which items gets put on display, what color the walls are gonna be... Back when everything was possible.

“How time flies...” She trailed off.

“Y/N/N. Baby...” Chris cried, his voice breaking at the end. Which caused Y/n to swallow a sob too.

“How can I make this better? I can fix this for us.” He said, hopping down from the seat onto Y/n’s level on the floor.

“That’s the thing, Chris. You can’t.” Y/n cried, pulling her hands away, and wrapping them around herself, in an attempt to give herself some comfort, as well as ground her.

“This is the most cliche thing that I’ve ever said, but it’s not you, it’s me. I can’t handle it... It’s getting too much for me, and the sad thing is, it’s not even your fault, because it’s my own feelings, and you’re just doing your job...” She ranted, her heart going a mile a minute, her chest feeling tighter.

“Hey. Hey.” Chris said, gently taking her hands, placing one on his cheek, and cupping her cheek, allowing her to follow his breathing, slowing hers down.

They let time pass, just holding the other close. Letting the other’s presence bring their calm. Like always.

Chris has just realized how much of a colossal fuck up he just made. How the fuck did he not notice?! That Story went from wholesome to “What did I just do?!” in just a few hours.

His heart was racing a mile a minute, and he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Pacing back and forth on his balcony, the fresh air rendered useless in relieving him.

“Hey. Chris, everything’s going to be alright, okay?” Y/n said, putting one hand on his shoulder, getting his attention on her.

“Deep breaths. 2 seconds in, 3 seconds out. C’mon, Babe. Do it with me.” She smiled, helping him breathe through his attack.

Some time later, Y/n helped him onto their couch. Dodger hopping on next to Chris, allowing him to pet the little guy. She had left the room to grab him a glass of water. Which after handing it over to him, she sat down behind Dodger, hand on Chris’ knee, letting her presence and silent assurance say what words may fall short on.

“We can do this, Baby. We can work through this, fight it.” Chris said, pulling back to look at Y/n’s eyes, determined.

“No, Chris. We can’t. I can’t.” She said, pulling away, and standing so that she was facing away from him, the view from their window her only comfort in this moment.

“I know that you want to make this work, because you’re you. But I can’t let you. Do you really want to stay, when I feel like a ghost in my own relationship? I literally could send you the biggest most obvious sign, and I don’t think you’d hear me.”

“But I’m here, Y/N/N. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Chris pleaded.

“Yeah. What happens when you need to go, Chris? When they need you to do something, again. And I have to see pics of you and her, knowing full well that that’s supposed to be me. On your arm, announcing our love and our relationship to the world. Taking on every comment, every hate, every piece of scrutiny, together. Instead, the world believes in that sham, because they don’t know I exist in your life.” Y/n cried, turning towards him, not even bothering to hold her tears back anymore.

Chris tried to reach out for her, but she took a step back. Not letting him hold her, knowing full well that if he did, everything will feel right, and she won’t be able to do what she needed to.

“This is just temporary, Baby. It’ll soon end, and at some point, we can walk out of those doors, and be able to show everyone.” Chris said, tears shining in his own eyes.

“You’ve been saying that for years. And honestly, you don’t even know when will it end exactly. And it’s destroying you. I know that you only did this to help your family, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own happiness.” Y/n said with conviction, her gaze filled with so much intensity, Chris avoided it and made his way to their room.

“You know, I’m right, Chris.”

“Well, has it ever crossed your mind, that maybe, I’m doing this for us? That maybe, it isn’t just for myself and my family? But for our future together?” Chris yelled, exasperated.

“And you know, that I have never cared about any of that! I don’t care if you’re some world-famous actor, or some rich gazillionaire, or whatever. I care about you, Chris. I don’t know why you could never see that.” Y/n sighed in disbelief, turning away from Chris, heading out the door to grab her bags and leave, forever.

“Wait. Baby, please wait.” Chris said, grabbing her wrist, and holding it gently, not wanting to hurt her, but make one last stitch effort to make her stay.

“I love you, isn’t it enough? I’m all yours. No part of me is ever not going to be yours. We just need to hang in there a little longer.” Silence filled the air, Y/n remaining silent for what felt like hours, until she finally spoke.

“You know I will always love you, too, Chris. But I can’t stay and end up hating you as a result. I wouldn’t be able to survive that. I’m sorry.” She said, looking at his gorgeous eyes, committing them to memory, before pulling away, and continuing her short walk to the door.

She had one foot out the door, when she felt a small tug on her pant leg. Looking down at a sad Dodger, whining, begging her to stay.

“Hey, Bubba. Don’t be sad. I will never not love you. And I need you to make sure, your Daddy remembers that too. Can you do that for me?” She said, kneeling down and petting him while smiling through her tears, as Dodger barked in reply, licking her face.

“Alright. That’s my good boy.” Y/n said, giving him a final pet before nudging him away from the doorway, and closing it behind her.

The silence wasn’t as comforting without her there. Even as Dodger assumed his duties, nudging against Chris, as he petted him. He felt numb, like a huge chunk of himself was removed and no way to fill the hole.

“It’s just you and me now, Bud... Just you and me.”

a/n: You guys still good? I hope it wasn't too bad. I may need to write something to balance out the angst, but that'll be a while... 😬

Special thanks to the best girls in the world for encouraging me, and getting me through my panic attacks to finish this. I couldn't have done it without you. Love y'all! 🥹❤️

And I'm also pretty sure that this'll be the only Chris Evans as himself fanfiction I'll ever write or post... We'll see.

But will this be my last Taylor Swift x CE/Character song fic? Definitely not 😉

Until the next one! Stay safe and sane, Everyone 🫶

❤ Booky

Main Masterlist

Chris Evans Characters Masterlist

Taylor Swift x CE/Characters Songfic Masterlist 😉

Taglist: @nescavaneck @jiyascepter @royalwriteroftheuniverse @femefetalelevelingup

[thoughtroomba02]

TS Film Thoughts Masterpost

As promised.

Let's start things off -

Breaking News - Headlines about the film

Dec 9 2022 - her film contract makes headlines

From what I can find, this is the first that anyone knows she is producing a film. There are no details released other than it's a script she wrote and she will be directing the film.

The next we hear is Dec 7, 2023 from the Tennessean --

It's been crickets, essentially. There are no public details I can find about the film anywhere including cast list, release date, content, ETC.

Interestingly, two days ago -- though uncertain of validity of source -

I don't have access to puck so cannot confirm what the article says; but this was recent! So; in theory, she finishes her Eras tour and moves directly in to film.

More on how Disney+ ties in our next section...

Who is Searchlight Pictures?

Created April 29, 1994 - formerly known as Fox Searchlight/under 20th/21st Century Fox

Biggest success: Slumdog Millionaire 187 Academy Ward Nominations with 46 wins; 5 Best Picture since 2009 117 Golden Globe Nominations; 51 wins 66 Screen Actors Guild Award Nominations; 55 wins 137 Independent Spirit Awards, 54 Wins

Other Notable Films: 12 Years A Slave; Black Swan; Napoleon Dynamite;

20th century fox, prior to the creation of Searchlight, was prominent in the specialty and independent films market in the 1990s; it carried this interest into Searchlight, at least initially.

In 2012, it was incorporated into Murdoch's 21st Century Fox. Barf.

On Dec 14, 2017 Disney put their first bid out on 21st Century Fox/Fox Searchlight. On March 19, 2019 the companies merged and Disney acquired Fox Searchlight; Fox News notoriously split independently. Disney dropped the name Fox; so now we have just Searchlight Pictures. There is also a Searchlight Pictures TV and shorts production, which for the sake of time I will not get into.

For Funsies, here is a short film (Jun 18 2019, after Disney acquired) produced by them called....LAVENDER. About a gay man who has a relationship with a married gay couple. Can't make it up.

Anyway, since merging with Disney especially, the company seems to be LGBTQ friendly.

And yes, Joe Alwyn has worked with Searchlight, with tweets I found dating back to 2018 with Searchlight UK. Make of that what you would like, I have no real objective commentary on the matter.

Taylor as a Director

She also directed the Long Pond Studio Sessions and Miss Americana.

Most of her directorial work has been since the Lover debut. Most of which is very queer coded/sapphic.. and again, make of that what you will.

Appearances/Pap Walks, ETC

Since her split from JA, we have seen her with multiple friends in the film industry. Among these: Ryan Reynolds, Blake Lively, Selena Gomez, Keleigh Teller, Miles Teller, Sophie Turner, Emma Stone...

And dare I say.... Travis Kelce, who seems to want to break his way into the entertainment industry?

(aside from this headline; his failed dating show, his podcast, his multiple PR deals like with ZenWater... etc. I rest my case).

We also know there has been some B roll footage taken at the Chiefs Games.

Additionally, the media coverage of this relationship has been an absolute f*cking circus; with constant headlines of the two and their "engagement" / relationship dynamics. On Taylor's end, we have had constant references to Bejeweled (where she Ghosts); including Keleigh Teller giving her the opal ring.

The Speculation

Yall, this is my opinion - you can agree, disagree, etc; but I have no insider information. Just thoughts.

She makes her film directorial debut with Searchlight - recently acquired by Disney, who is pro-LGBTQ; and is clearly in deep with business deals with them, as seen on Taylor Nation and her Eras Tour Film.

We have rumors of her beginning her film production at the end of the ERAS tour, along with knowledge of her currently with B roll footage from chiefs games. We have multiple highly papp'ed appearances with her + TK; but also with multiple film stars, including Blake Lively (still not over that photo), Sophie Turner (I do think there's altruism here tbh on TS's end), and Keleigh. If you believe Keleigh is her stand in invisible bride.... Holy shit. Between the opal ring shutdown of the media circus as well as her and TS literally taking a page out of TSHOEH and dressing in character...

My ultimate suspicion is that she's using actual experiences of her current life-highly papp'ed - to tell her story. And that Keleigh is her stand in muse in this film.

I also think the @spade-riddles we've been getting about a final act ending, etc, pertain to her film. I don't have evidence aside from speculation.

I rest my case. Enjoy this post and make of it what you will.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Timeline, Part 1 - An Update

I forgot the Daily Mail takedowns. Doh! (I kept that list separately and just totally forgot about it.) Tumblr is being weird when I try to update the other post so I'm putting the Daily Mail stuff here and I'll also add them to the main post.

First, some links that validate events on the main post:

Harry dating Sarah Macklin

Piers and Meghan have drinks

Doria papped after the relationship is outed

Meghan merches a H&M necklace and Harry is actually photographed (by Splash, of all people) outside Meghan's Toronto home immediately after his Caribbean tour ends.

Harry wants a bigger apartment and has his eyes set on the Gloucesters's home.

Meghan drops Reitmans

Harry talks about receiving therapy and help for his grief with Diana's death

4/30/2016: Kate revealed as the Vogue 100 (June 2016) cover star and story.

5/8/2016 - 5/14/2016: Harry is in Florida for the Orlando Invictus Games.

5/10/2016: Piers Morgan writes a "Good King Henry" article claiming Harry would be a better King than William.

6/12/2016: Daily Mail publishes a story about The Queen's tiara collection. (iykyk...)

6/28/2016: Harry appears with Coldplay at a Kensington Palace concert. This concert is often cited as proof that Harry is in London at the time they claim they were set up.

July 2016: (dates unknown)

Thomas Markle Jr. claims that Harry met Thomas during July 2016.

The Daily Mail claims Harry took Meghan to L.A. for a weekend of partying that sealed the deal and became officially boyfriend-girlfriend.

Meghan travels to Spain with Misha Nonoo. I think Markus Anderson is there too (there's a photo of a guy who looks like him with Meghan and Misha) but I can't tell.

9/8/2016: Harry is voted world's most hottest royal.

10/27/2016 - 11/4/2016: Harry is claimed to be in Toronto and a new version of how they met - in this version, they met at a charity event and Harry kept texting Meghan until she agreed to a date.

11/1/2016: Samatha Markle speaks out for the first time and a story about Meghan's fashion is published.

11/3/2016: Misha Nonoo revealed as the mutual friend that set Harry and Meghan up. Daily Mail publishes a "No one wants to marry Harry and he's desperate for love but Meghan isn't The One" editorial.

11/4/2016: Meghan pap walks and merches a hotel. Daily Mail publishes about Meghan's ancestry and that Meghan looks like Pippa.

11/5/2016: Meghan leaks that she wants to spend Christmas with Harry in the UK. Daily Mail publishes a "Diana wouldn't like Meghan" editorial.

11/6/2019: "Meghan, this is not how royals behave" editorlal published and Meghan leaks that she's very close with Princess Eugenie.

11/12/2016: "Harry, this is not how royals behave, stop calling us racists" editorial published.

11/14/2016: "Remember when Meghan had to choose between Prince William or Prince Harry" throwback article by the Daily Mail

11/15/2016: Meghan leaks that she will give up everything for Harry and the royal family.

11/16/2016: Meghan leaks that she wants private security from Harry and the royals.

11/19/2016: "Meghan the Kate lookalike" article published

11/21/2016: The royals don't like that stories and gossip about Meghan is taking over Harry's Caribbean tour and their work.

11/22/2016: Meghan's comment that she wants to "smash glass ceilings, don't wear glass slippers" is published. The subtext is that she won't be a cooperative associate of the royal family.

11/23/2016: An article about Harry making a tribute to Meghan while on the Caribbean tour is published. This is the very first "sweet nod" PR piece, though the phrase isn't actually used in the article.

11/25/2016: Daily Mail reports that William is not happy with Harry's love shield statement. This only fuels the rumors.

11/27/2016: Meghan and Priyanka's friendship is revealed.

12/9/2016: Yoga pap walk to merch Harry's bracelet

12/10/2016: Harry is hunting in Bavaria with friends and Meghan goes shopping in Toronto while the rest of the Suits cast attends Patrick Adams's wedding in California. Meghan claims she knew her attendance at the wedding would bring out the paparazzi and after discussing it with Patrick, decided to stay home to give them privacy. Rumors begin of a falling out between Meghan and the Suits cast over her behavior (e.g., entitlement and demands for special treatment) since dating Harry. Rumors that Meghan had an affair with one of her Suits castmates also resurface.

12/17/2016: The Markles sell photos of Meghan's childhood.

12/20/2016: Daily Mail writes about Meghan's topless photos and one of the first Kate hitjobs is published, an article that says Meghan has a better fashion style than Kate and that Kate should take inspiration from her.

12/21/2016: Daily Mail writes about Meghan's racy Suits scenes and an article claiming Meghan has been harassed and attacked by her half-sister is published, beginning Meghan's victim narrative. The Samantha article leads to speculation that Meghan dragged these issues up and into the public to bury her topless photos and sexy scenes. Later, it is also speculated that "Everyone Loves Classy" is meant to repair Meghan's reputation to make her royal appropriate.

12/27/2016: Yoga pap walk with Doria.

12/30/2016: A "Meghan is just like Diana" article is published, talking about Meghan's humanitarian work in and interest in Africa.

1/1/2017: The Daily Mail publishes more of Meghan's racy photos.

1/4/2017: Tom Markle Jr. confirms that Harry has met Thomas Markle "about six months ago" and that Thomas has known about the relationship since the very beginning.

1/6/2017: Another Kate hit job is published, stating that the Duchess will have to deal with being compared to Meghan, whose philanthropy is far more successful.

1/7/2017: Meghan leaks that she will be attending Skippy's wedding with Harry.

1/10/2017: The Daily Mail publishes photographs and stories about Meghan's first wedding to Trevor.

1/11/2017: Meghan spreads engagement rumors to E News! It's later confirmed that E News is one of Meghan's go-tos to leak info about the royals and her relationship so there's a solid confidence that she's trying to push Harry's hand.

1/14/2017: Meghan leaks to the Daily Mail that Harry plans to take her skiing in Verbier and her brother, Tom Markle Jr., has been arrested.

1/17/2017 - 1/18/2017: More information and details about Tom Jr.'s arrest are published.

1/20/2017: Kensington Palace announces that William and Kate are moving back to London in the fall when William's contract with EAAA ends in the summer.

1/22/2017: Meghan is papped at the airport in Mumbai, preparing to go home after 5 days in India for World Vision. There is some speculation that Meghan was a last-minute addition to the India program to get some good PR following her brother's drama but it's quickly debunked when a) veteran blogs point out that Meghan's strategy to bury bad news/criticism is a pap walk or a royal connection, not going off the radar and b) her November interview with Vancouver Star plugging the India trip is rediscovered.

1/27/2017: Meghan spreads rumors that they're really engaged now and Harry proposed over a glass of champagne.

1/28/2017: Kensington Palace announces that William and Harry have commissioned a statue of Diana for the KP gardens.

1/31/2017: Meghan tips off the Daily Mail about an article she wrote for The Tig about her dream bachelorette party. Rumors begin that this is Meghan announcing her availability to sponsors for merching opportunities in the UK when she marries Harry.

2/22/2017: A Cambridge hit job is published, pointing out that they don't hold hands and aren't affectionate in public.

2/25/2017: Meghan tries to convince us that she's firmly established in the UK with a group of society girls who've become close friends.

2/26/2017: Toronto pap walk to merch an elephant bracelet

2/28/2017: The Daily Mail publishes that Meghan has never met a freebie she didn't turn down.

3/5/2017: Meghan merches Cartier.

3/12/2017: Meghan leaks that Pippa doesn't want her at the wedding and has banned her with a "no ring, no bring" rule.

3/13/2017: The Daily Mail publishes a story and photographs of Meghan's very special episode of 90210. It's later that that Meghan leaked about William's dad dancing in Switzerland to bury this but more likely, it's Meghan's leaks that she will meet The Queen soon that are meant to bury the 90210 work.

3/20/2017: "Meghan is still the same girl I've always known, this fame isn't changing her" editorial by Lindsey Roth is published. This is in response to quiet-but-growing-louder speculation that Meghan has a new sense of entitlement, attitude, and rudeness.

4/3/2017: It's announced that Samantha Markle plans to write a book about Meghan. (Meghan gives her first brief against her sister the next day, on 4/4, largely in response to this news.)

4/8/2017: Meghan claps back against Pippa's "no ring, no bring" rule via an editorial.

4/9/2017: Meghan leaks that she loves Africa and Harry is taking her to visit again in October when Suits wraps.

4/20/2017: Meghan commissions a "Meghan is just like Kate" piece in the Daily Mail.

4/28/2017: Middleton hit job, accusing them of spending more time with the Cambridge children than their royal relatives. (Honestly, this reads more like a Charles hit job than Meghan's but it's part of a larger trend of Meghan sourcing stories that attack Kate.)

As always, corrections, additions, updates, and links are welcome!

Hopefully Tumblr stops acting up and I can incorporate these into the main post.

[thatwasthenightthingschanged]

MASTERPOST: eras tour presale (German dates)

since there’s already so much information floating around & we’ll probably get new info regularly, I’ve decided to create this post which collects all information available for the presale for Taylor’s German dates (Gelsenkirchen, Hamburg & Munich). I will pin this post to my blog and update it regularly! also, if you find information that is not on this list yet, please send it to me so I can update this post!

INFORMATION FOR ALL PRESALES OF THE GERMANY SHOWS

FYI: When in doubt, check out the FAQ page of eventim for the Germany shows!

+ I don’t know enough about the other European shows to be able to give you 100% right answers (keep that in mind if you send me an ask about those shows 😊)

UPDATED: July 11th, 7pm CET (latest two updates are marked through cursive font)

REGISTRATION for the pre-sale is only possible until June 23rd at 10am Central European Time (CET) (note: the website also names 23:59 as the time when registration ends. I don’t know which time is the right one, so I’d advise you to register before 10am). To register, click here or follow the link on Taylor’s homepage. Important information regarding registration:

Make sure to register with the same email address you use for your eventim account. They‘ve stated that they will check all e-mail addresses to make sure bots don’t get access, and they do so through checking if the email address refers to a valid eventim account. If you haven’t gotten an account under the email address yet, you should be safe as long as you create an account for it until registration ends (Friday, June 23rd).

Registration does NOT guarantee you will receive a code. They will randomize who will get a code, and the rest of the people who signed up will be put on a wait list.

it does NOT matter when you’ve registered, as long as it is before the deadline ends. like I’ve said, it’s randomized.

you should receive an email from eventim. in it, you have to confirm your registration. however, it might take a while for you to receive the email (e.g. on the first day of registration some people had to wait quite a while to receive the email, as the servers were overloaded).

YOU HAVE TO REGISTER FOR PRESALE TO BE ABLE TO BUY TICKETS! one of the venues tweeted that you’ll only get to buy tickets if you’re registered for pre-sale (x). (don’t know if that means there won’t be a general sale for now)

you have to register separately for each show you want to have access to. If you for example aim for Hamburg and Gelsenkirchen, you cannot make a joint registration for them. click on “register now!” for the dates you’re interested in (see screenshot below)

you cannot register for the additional shows that were announced for Germany. The registration you’ve done before suffices. Via the company organising it: The code you’ll get for a city is valid for all the shows in one city. aka: you can pick the date you want to get tickets for, for example if you’ve gotten a code for Munich you can choose between the two dates.

eventim said that whether ticketholders of Lover Fest Berlin tickets will get a separate presale is up to the concert company organizing the concert, therefore they don’t have any information on it. I personally don’t think there will be a presale for Lover Fest Berlin ticket holders.

The PRESALE for the German shows will take place on July 12th. Important information regarding the presale:

please note that the presale for some of the European shows takes place on July 11th or other dates. however, July 12th applies to all shows in Germany.

The times when the presale starts are now different! The Gelsenkirchen presale starts at 9am, the Hamburg presale at 11am and the presale for the Munich shows at 1pm CET.

If you were chosen (per the email on July 5th), you will receive your code via email until July 11th, 5pm CET at the latest.

click on the link in this email for access.

it is very likely you’ll be sent to the waiting room. eventim says this about the waiting room: When completing your ticket purchase, stay within one browser window. Opening multiple windows or tabs to purchase tickets may result in errors.

tickets are limited to four per customer per unique code. this means: if you receive a code for, for example, Hamburg, you can pick a date and purchase up to four tickets for that date. If you purchase four tickets for that one date, you cannot use that code anymore. If you, however, only purchase two tickets, you can purchase two tickets for the second show as well with that code (see eventim’s reply).

UPDATE: please note that each code only refers to a specific venue. once you’ve gotten through the queue on presale day, you can only buy tickets for that one venue, but you can choose which date you’d like to try for. If you receive codes for several venues, you have to finish purchasing your first order before you get purchase tickets for another venue.

TICKET CODES CANNOT AND SHOULD NOT BE SHARED OR TRANSFERRED. you might not be able to buy tickets if you do so. (imo transferring does work if you’ve got the other person’s account info, as the code is specific to the eventim account tied to it)

tickets will be sold until inventory lasts.

per eventim’s faq page you can only deposit your payment info into your account if you buy tickets from the website. Otherwise it is NOT possible to save your payment info in your account before the sale. But! This should not matter since, after you have added a ticket to your basket, that ticket will be reserved for you for approx. 15 minutes, so plenty of time to put in your payment info! But you should still make sure to check if your credit card has a spending limit!

UPDATE: Tickets will be personalized for the person from whose account the tickets are bought. the people accompanying them do not have to be noted when buying. The buyer of the tickets has to attend the concert! If for some reason the buyer cannot go, you can transfer the tickets to someone else, but it’s a rather lengthy process. an example for how to transfer personalized tickets for a different artist can be found on eventim’s faq page under 3.

UPDATE: USEFUL INFORMATION FOR BEFORE THE PRESALE

make sure you have your password and payment method ready!

clear your cache & cookies!

you CAN and SHOULD already click the link in your presale code email before presale starts. the link sends you to the general presale page. Pick the date of the show you want to attend & click on the grey button to at the right (I’ve added a screenshot below but it’s for the Vienna shows for which the presale was already today, so the button is blue. The button tomorrow will be gray before presale). NOTE: dates may appear twice, as you can see below. the date at the top is always for regular tickets, the one below for vip tickets:

after you have clicked the button, you will be send to a page which will say sth along the lines of “presale hasn’t started yet”

They’ll open a waiting room 30 minutes before presale starts. This waiting room will refresh & send u to the queue automatically once the clock hits the time of the presale. I don’t know whether it influences your position in the queue but I would recommend going into it anyway.

you will be send to the queue once presale starts. DO NO OPEN ANY OTHER TABS OR BROWSERS ANYMORE ONCE YOU’RE IN THE QUEUE! if you do, you’ll lose your spot in the queue.

If you’re WAITLISTED:

per eventim’s faq page, this means that you’re waitlisted until more, if any, tickets become available for your chosen city.

if that is the case, you will be notified via email with the relevant information & timing details.

your notification may come at ANY TIME after July 12, 2023.

eventim & all the venues recommend signing up to the Taylor Nation newsletter in case new presales happen/more shows are added

PRICES & SEATING: 

eventim tweeted that they don’t know the prices for tickets until pre-sale begins (it was the same with the Lover Fest Berlin show). so I’d recommend setting yourself a budget (x)

UPDATE: eventim finally released the seating maps for all of the shows! here’s the one for Gelsenkirchen:

this is the map for Hamburg:

and this is the map for Munich:

UPDATE: for Vienna, you could not pick your seat but only the price category of your ticket. eventim tweeted they can’t tell whether that will be the case tomorrow. So, once again, set yourself a budget!

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE GELSENKIRCHEN SHOW (VELTINS-ARENA)

Link to the venue’s site for Taylor’s concert

the stadium will sell hospitality tickets - those will go on sale on July 12th, 10am, too (you’ll be able to buy them under this link)

below, you’ll find the general seating chart for the stadium. They will close the roof of the stadium in case of rain, so - in contrast to Munich - you’ll be sheltered from it anywhere.

General Advice

the venue is cashless - alternatively you can buy a card from them onto which you can load money via cash or use the “schalke 04″ app to preload money on a digital card. this is relevant for buying merch! the physical card might also have a special design for Taylor’s show. (thank you @youlooklikeasixtiesqueen​ for the info! for more information, you can read her full asks he/re)

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE HAMBURG SHOW (VOLKSPARKSTADION)

below, you’ll find the general seating chart for the stadium. All seats in the bowl are covered by a roof, the floor isn’t.

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE MUNICH SHOW (OLYMPIASTADION)

(I’ve actually been to a concert in this venue before, so if you need info re: where to sit & what the venue is like, send me an ask!)

Link to the venue’s site for Taylor’s concert

General Advice

the Olympiastadion has a roof (in case it rains). but! only sections E2 until V1 one are fully under it, with sections F1 to G2 and U2 to S2 being partially roofed (see general seating chart below). I had tickets for section U2 at my concert and I would actually recommend not going further than this if you really want to be covered by the roof.

if you’re looking for cheap tickets: there should be standing tickets available for the bowl (besides the regularly seated tickets) and those should be the cheapest ones. I can highly recommend them! I had standing tickets for section U2. This section is tiered and has sectioned off rows. Each row consists of two stone steps on which you can sit down. So, imo, it’s essentially like having seats but paying much less money. And you have a great view from them! You also don’t have to worry about when you arrive - they fill these rows up from the back, so technically if you arrive shortly before the show begins, you should be at the front of the section.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEM VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his cleaner. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his cleaner. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

[ghuleh-witch]

Make You Sing

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, exhibitionism (kinda), confessional sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Female!Reader, unnamed Sibling of Sin Additional Tags: no use of y/n, soft!dom Copia Words: 1121 Summary: Between your busy schedules, you and Copia make time to see each other, but that time is interrupted when a Sibling of Sin steps into the confessional.

Ao3

Your nails were digging into the wooden back of the chair as your head was pulled back, making your back arch. “Fuck,” you moaned loudly as Copia held a fistful of your hair. “Papa.”

“As much as I love those sweet noises, you need to keep it down, dolcezza,” Copia replied as he pounded into you. The hand that wasn’t pulling your hair was gripping your hip, pulling your hips back onto his cock. “Don’t want anyone to hear us, si?”

You and Copia hadn’t had a lot of time to spend together lately. Between his duties as Papa and preparing for a tour and your own work in the ministry, your time together was stretched thin forcing you to find little moments of free time throughout the day to spend together. Tonight Copia was holding confession, and as soon as the last person in line left, you came out of your hiding spot in the shadows and stepped into his side of the booth. It was late and Copia’s window for confession would be ending soon. No one else would be stopping in to confess their sins. 

When his hand came around to touch your clit, you all but whimpered in need. “Let them hear,” you breathed, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as his fingers teased your clit. His hand let go of your hair and pulled you closer to him. “I–aaaaah—want them to know you’re ruining me.”

“Ragazza birichina,” he purred in your ear. He pressed a kiss to your neck as his thrusts slowed to a torturous speed. 

“So close,” you panted softly as his lips peppered your neck with kisses and gentle nips. You teetered on the edge of your climax and were just about to shatter when the sound of heels could be heard approaching the confessional. 

You both froze upon hearing the door to the other side of the booth open and close and someone sitting down in the chair on the other side of the wall. The mesh between the booths was thick enough that the sibling couldn’t see either of you and you couldn’t see the sibling.

“Bless me, Papa, for I have sinned. It has been fourteen days since my last confession,” came the voice of one of one of your fellow siblings. “I have lusted, I was greedy, and I was envious.” 

One of Copia’s gloved hands came up to your mouth and covered it as he slowly pushed into you, careful to not make the chair you were balanced on creak. You felt his lips quirk upward into a smirk and knew he was turning this into a game. 

“For these sins, I am not sorry,” the sibling finished. 

Copia wasted no time stepping back into his role as Papa despite his cock buried deep inside of you. “Did you feel guilt while you were experiencing these sins?” Copia asked, keeping his voice level and neutral as he usually did in confession. A hand came and rested on your hip, keeping you still on his cock. He knew it would make you squirm. 

“A little,” the sibling confessed. “When I was lusting after my married friend…I want her so badly, but she’s happily married. I can’t help it though. I’m so jealous that her partner gets to have her every day and night and I just want her all to myself. I know they’re both polyamorous, but I still feel wrong for trying to come between them. I just…I don’t know…I don’t want to feel guilt for having the feelings I do and I don’t know what to do about this whole situation.”

“All those feelings you have a valid,” Copia said as he thrust deep into you again. You wanted to whimper into his hand but fought to keep silent. “There is nothing wrong with feeling guilt either. You are human and being human is complex and confusing.”

There was a sigh from the other side of the dark mesh screen. “What should I do, Papa?”

“Have you talked to your friend? Communication is key, after all.  It does not do to bottle up all these feelings.” Copia said, as the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth moved from your hip to your front and then between your legs. He dragged a single finger up your slit before stopping at your clit. You couldn’t help but tremble as you fought back any noise that was threatening to escape. 

“I’m afraid that if I tell her I’ll ruin my friendship,” the sibling said. “Even though I have a feeling maybe she feels the same for me too…”

“Perhaps it would be best to bring up your feelings to your friend and talk it through with her. You will never know if she feels the same or not if it’s never discussed. Don’t live with the regret of never knowing,” Copia responded as his fingers teased your clit.

“You’re right,” the sibling said. “I should talk to her. The worst that can happen is that my feelings aren’t returned and she’s not interested, right?”

“Right. And if she is truly your friend, your friendship won’t be ruined. Sure things might be, eh, awkward for a bit but you two will work through it.” He thrust into you slowly again and this time, the feeling was too intense. A muffled moan sounded against the leather of his glove and Copia quickly started to fake cough to cover up the sound.

“Are you okay, Papa?” The sibling asked.

“Mi dispiace. I seem to be coming down with a cold,” Copia lied, his fingers putting pressure on your clit as though in punishment. “Speak to your friend and discuss how you feel. Life is too short to be left wanting and wondering.”

“Thank you, Papa,” the sibling replied, their chair scrapping on the floor as they stood.

“Go and sin freely,” Copia said, making the sign of the inverted cross to the mesh-covered window.

The door on the other side of the confessional opened and you could hear the sibling walking away. When all was silent again, Copia released his hand from your mouth and pressed his lips to the side of your neck.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He questioned, his teeth grazing your skin.

“Sorry,” you panted. “It just came out.” 

He hummed in response before the slow, agonizing pace of his thrusts turned punishing. “You’re lucky confession is over and you can be as loud as you want now,” he growled into your ear. “And I’m going to make you sing, cara.” 

And he did make you sing—your voice echoing off the rafters of the chapel as he brought you to orgasm.

Translations dolcezza-sweetness Ragazza birichina-naughty girl Mi dispiace-I'm sorry cara-dear/darling