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ltash · 2 months ago

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In the middle of the night pt-1

Your mom was dating Mr Riley, and you were staying as a guest in his house until Ghost decided to pay a visit.

Lots of slowburn in the chapter..

The quiet settled in like a heavy blanket, wrapping the room in a soft silence. You sat cross-legged in Mr. Riley's grand living room, surrounded by polished wood, high ceilings, and the kind of decor that whispered wealth and elegance in every corner. Your mother had only been dating him for a little over a month, but they'd already developed an easy bond. Colleagues by day, close friends after hours, their connection was undeniable. This was why you found yourself here tonight, waiting in his spacious home while they enjoyed a night out.

Dressed in a black jersey bodycon dress with a high, elegant turtleneck, you exuded sophistication. The diamond-studded Cuban link chain glistened against the neckline of your dress, catching the low lighting. You wore a matching bracelet, simple yet dazzling, a testament to your impeccable taste. Even sitting alone, you were the very picture of poise and confidence.

Absorbed in a magazine, you barely noticed how quiet the house had become. But the silence was suddenly interrupted by the sharp, unexpected sound of the doorbell cutting through the night. You frowned, glancing up from the page, your mind racing. It was late, and visitors at this hour were uncommon.

"Who could be here at this time?" You murmured to yourself.

Placing the magazine aside, you rose from the plush chair and made your way toward the front door. The heels of your shoes clicked softly against the gleaming marble floor, and you adjusted the bracelet on your wrist as you approached the entrance. With a quick exhale, you turned the handle and opened the door, just enough to peek through.

Your breath caught as you took in the figure before you. A man filled the doorway, towering and imposing, his frame seemingly carved from stone. He wore a black skull-printed balaclava that partially obscured his face, making his eyes stand out beneath the dim light. He was dressed casually, yet powerfully, with a leather jacket thrown over a fitted shirt and dark jeans that outlined the sinewy strength of his legs. He held the straps of a duffle bag tightly in his gloved hands, and his posture radiated a certain readiness, as if he were used to having his presence respected without question.

You straightened your posture, raising a brow as you crossed your arms over your chest, unphased, or at least giving a good impression of it.

"Who are you?" you asked sharply, infusing your voice with just the right amount of sass as you snapped your fingers for emphasis.

The man's eyes narrowed, a spark of amusement flickering in their depths, though he seemed more interested in studying you than answering. He remained silent for a beat too long, his gaze locked on yours, and the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, like he was quietly amused.

"The question is, who are you?" he replied, his voice a deep rumble that held a hint of challenge.

You raised an eyebrow, not intimidated. "I'm Mr. Riley's guest. My mom's his colleague, and they're dating. So, no offence, but you're out of luck if you were hoping to see him tonight. He's out," you replied smoothly. "So, you can come back another time."

You moved to close the door, dismissing him with ease. But before you could fully shut it, his hand shot out, catching the edge with a strength that made the door stop in place. Startled, you tried pulling it back, but his grip was unyielding.

"Hey, wait! What are you doing?" you protested, an edge of alarm creeping into your tone as he pushed the door open wider, stepping into the house with the ease of someone who belonged.

The door clicked shut behind him as he regarded you, his gaze assessing. He took another step forward, and you instinctively took a step back, feeling the cold marble beneath your heels. His imposing figure loomed over you, but he didn't move aggressively. Instead, he reached out, and before you could react, he gently yet firmly took hold of your jaw, his gloved fingers grazing your skin.

Your breath hitched as he turned your face from side to side, his eyes travelling over your features with a calculating interest. He looked almost amused, like he'd found something unexpected in this encounter.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled softly, his voice low and edged with a kind of dark amusement that sent a shiver up your spine.

Heat flared in your cheeks, and you quickly slapped his hand away, taking a step back as you straightened your spine. You didn't let your composure falter, though your heart hammered in your chest.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" you demanded, voice fierce and unwavering despite the adrenaline pulsing through your veins. "You can't just walk in here and act like you own the place. Get out before I call the cops."

The threat seemed to amuse him further. He chuckled, a sound deep and rich, and shook his head. "Relax, sweetheart," he drawled, the British accent unmistakable as it rolled off his tongue. His words were smooth, yet edged with a casual danger that made you uneasy. "Mr. Riley is my old man. Thought I'd pay him a visit, but I see he's out... otherwise occupied."

Realization dawned, and you froze as his words settled in. Mr. Riley's son. Your mother had mentioned him a few times, always with a certain admiration for his military service, but his name and details had been kept a mystery. It seemed that mystery was very much by design.

You collected yourself quickly, determined not to show any hint of intimidation. "Alright," you said, working to keep your tone steady. "Well, he's not here, so if you're really his son, you can either leave and come back, or..."

But before you could finish, he took another step closer, his gaze sharp and unwavering. The playful glint in his eyes hadn't dimmed, but now it was mingled with a darker edge, something that made your pulse quicken.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice a low murmur as he held your gaze. His presence was suffocating yet magnetic, and the intensity of his stare made your heart beat even faster.

You clenched your jaw, lifting your chin defiantly. "Doesn't matter," you replied, voice laced with defiance. You weren't about to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he tilted his head as he regarded you, clearly entertained by your resistance. "Alright, then," he replied smoothly, a glint of amusement lingering in his eyes. "Guess I'll have to stick around a little longer, mystery girl. Nice to meet you."

He set the duffle bag down by his side, his gaze never leaving yours. It was clear that he had no intention of leaving anytime soon, and for the first time, you wondered just how long you might be sharing this empty house with the mysterious, dangerous son of Mr. Riley.

The tension in the room thickened as he sauntered over to the plush leather couch, his movements slow and deliberate. He dropped himself down with a relaxed confidence, sprawling across the cushions like he owned the place. His legs spread wide, his solid, muscular thighs straining against the fabric of his jeans. The pose was casual, but his eyes held an unmistakable glint of mischief. He was playing a game, daring you to react.

He leaned back, his arms draping across the back of the couch as he settled in, his gaze never leaving you. After a beat of silence, he raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Guess you aren't hospitable enough to ask if I'd like a drink," he drawled, his voice heavy with mock reproach. "No tea or coffee? Do you treat all your guests this way, sweetheart?"

The words dripped with sarcasm, and his tone was pure challenge, his eyes gleaming as he watched for your reaction. He was provoking you, seeing if you'd take the bait. The casual nickname, the mocking edge-it was all designed to get under your skin, and he was clearly enjoying every second.

You felt a surge of heat rush to your face as you stood there, stunned at his nerve. The audacity of him! Not only had he barged into the house uninvited, but now he had the gall to make demands? You were tempted to put him in his place, but something about the intensity in his gaze, the easy confidence of his posture, made you hesitate. Despite the anger simmering beneath the surface, you couldn't help but feel the pull of his magnetic presence, that dangerous charm he wielded so effortlessly.

But you weren't about to let him see that. Squaring your shoulders, you folded your arms, levelling him with a glare.

"What the hell?" you snapped, eyes narrowed. "You barge in here uninvited, act like you own the place, and now you expect me to serve you like I'm some kind of maid?"

His smirk widened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he held your gaze with an amused intensity. "Last I checked, I am family," he replied, his tone low, almost conspiratorial. "But maybe you're right. I might've overstepped. Or maybe..." His gaze dropped to the bracelet glinting on your wrist before returning to your face, "...you're just afraid you'll end up enjoying my company more than you think."

His voice was a deep, smooth murmur that sent a shiver up your spine despite every attempt you made to ignore it. He was playing with you, inching closer to see how you'd react, testing how far he could push.

The challenge in his words only fueled your defiance. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through you, sharpening your resolve. "You think too highly of yourself," you retorted, lifting your chin. "Just because you're Mr. Riley's son doesn't mean I owe you anything. You're just another rude stranger as far as I'm concerned."

His smile didn't falter. If anything, it grew sharper. He relaxed back into the couch, studying you with the quiet confidence of someone who wasn't used to being denied. There was something dangerous in his stare, but it was the kind of danger that drew you in rather than repelled you.

"Maybe," he said, after a pause. "But there's one thing you should know about me, sweetheart." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, almost predatory whisper. "I don't take 'no' for an answer easily. Especially not when I've found something I'm... interested in."

The meaning was clear, but so was the hint of intrigue in his tone. His gaze lingered on you, a subtle but undeniable challenge glinting in his eyes, daring you to react.

You felt your pulse quicken, a rush of both anger and something else you couldn't quite name stirring inside you. You weren't about to let him win, but part of you wondered if you were playing a game you didn't fully understand.

"Then maybe it's time you learned to," you replied, holding his gaze with equal intensity. "Because I don't plan on humouring your attitude any longer."

His laugh was soft but genuine, like he was thoroughly enjoying the back-and-forth. "You've got fire," he remarked, tilting his head slightly as if he were sizing you up, as if you were an unexpected surprise in a familiar game. "I like that."

The intensity in the air was almost tangible, like a taut wire stretched between you, sparking with every word, every look. His gaze softened just slightly, enough to reveal a hint of interest that went beyond simple amusement.

"I think I'll stick around a while," he said finally, settling further into the couch, still holding your gaze with that infuriatingly calm confidence. "Mr. Riley isn't back yet, after all. And besides..." His eyes travelled over you slowly, his smile widening as he took in the faint flush on your cheeks. "...something tells me the night just got a lot more interesting."

You stood there, torn between frustration and intrigue, watching the smirk dance on his lips. He wasn't going anywhere. That much was clear. And even though you wanted to resist every bit of his smug charm, there was something about the way he looked at you, the ease with which he held his ground, that was both maddening and thrilling.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your chin defiantly, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve. "Fine," you said. "If you're staying, then you're on your own. I'm not getting you anything."

"Suit yourself," he replied, his smirk never faltering. He leaned back, stretching his arms across the back of the couch once more, settling in as if he'd just won some unspoken game. And as you turned on your heel, heading back to the chair you'd abandoned, you could feel his gaze on you, lingering, unrelenting, and full of promise for a night that was only beginning.

You watched, incredulous, as he pushed himself up from the couch and sauntered past you, his shoulders brushing close as he moved toward the kitchen. He had the same easy confidence, the same smugness, that had set your nerves on edge since the moment he walked through the door. You were rooted to the spot for a moment, caught between surprise and annoyance as you watched him open cupboards, pulling out plates and rummaging through the contents of the fridge as if he owned the place.

He moved with practised ease, grabbing some bread, deli meat, and cheese, and setting it all on the counter. With a small smirk, he began assembling a sandwich, and when he reached over to flick the switch on the electric kettle, you couldn't stay silent any longer.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice laced with disbelief as you crossed your arms and shot him a withering glare.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his expression completely unbothered, that irritating glint of amusement still present in his eyes. "Can't you see?" he replied smoothly, his tone mocking as he sliced a piece of bread. "You didn't bother to offer me anything, so the guest must help himself."

The way he said it, like it was a perfectly reasonable response, made your frustration bubble over. "Are you for real?" You shot back, rolling your eyes in exasperation. "Look, dude, come what may, I'm not about to offer you a single drop of water. Make your sandwich and be done with it."

He let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by your irritation. "Such hospitality," he murmured, shaking his head as he spread a thin layer of mustard over the bread. "You must be a real joy to live with."

"Luckily for you, you don't live with me," you snapped, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, unwilling to let him get away with his smugness. "I don't owe you anything, and I don't have to wait on your hand and foot just because you waltzed in here unannounced."

He took a slow sip of the tea he'd just poured, his eyes narrowing in challenge as he met your gaze over the rim of the cup. "True," he said, setting the cup down with a clink. "But there's something called common courtesy. Or have you always been this spoiled?"

You felt a spark of anger at his words, your cheeks heating as you straightened your posture. "Spoiled? You're one to talk! You just invited yourself in, started acting like you own the place, and now you're standing in the kitchen, making demands like I'm your personal chef."

He shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich as he leaned against the counter, utterly unperturbed. "I figured you'd offer me something eventually," he replied, giving a lazy smile that only fueled your annoyance further. "But since you didn't, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Besides..." He let his gaze travel over you, assessing a hint of that dark humour still glinting in his eyes. "...I've dealt with far more difficult situations than this. A little attitude doesn't scare me."

Your mouth opened in a mixture of disbelief and indignation. "Unbelievable," you muttered, throwing your hands up. "I swear, you're the most arrogant, self-entitled-"

Before you could finish, he held up a finger, silencing you with a cool, almost teasing expression. "Temper, temper," he chided softly, his voice like a warning wrapped in silk. "It's not becoming of such a... polished young lady, now is it?"

The deliberate condescension in his tone, the way he seemed to be enjoying every flicker of irritation you showed, only fueled your frustration. You felt trapped in his gaze, unable to look away as he took another bite of his sandwich, his movements maddeningly calm, as if he were watching an amusing spectacle.

"Maybe if you weren't so infuriating," you replied icily, "I wouldn't be so annoyed. Ever think of that?"

He chuckled, shaking his head as if you'd missed some joke. "I'm simply getting to know my father's... interesting house guest," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite your best efforts. "But if you'd rather be alone, sweetheart, just say the word. I'll leave you to your magazine and quiet little life."

The comment struck a nerve, and you glared back at him, your voice sharp. "You're making a lot of assumptions, aren't you?"

His expression didn't waver, though his gaze softened slightly, just enough to hint at something unreadable beneath the surface. "Maybe," he murmured, leaning in slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper as he held your gaze. "But I'm rarely wrong."

The words hung in the air between you, charged with a tension that felt almost tangible. For a moment, you weren't sure whether to keep arguing or walk away, but something in his expression, in the intensity of his stare, made it hard to pull back. It was as if he was daring you, testing just how much resolve you had.

You finally tore your gaze away, clenching your fists as you fought to regain your composure. "Fine," you said, your voice calm but edged with steel. "Do whatever you want. Just don't expect me to roll out the red carpet."

With that, you turned on your heel, determined to put some distance between you and the arrogant, infuriating man who seemed to take pleasure in pushing every one of your buttons. But as you walked away, you could still feel his eyes on you, a lingering gaze that held a promise of more to come, leaving you both unsettled and strangely intrigued.

Frustrated and flustered, you had stormed off down the hallway, letting the silence of the empty house settle around you as you tried to cool down. Your footsteps slowed as you came to a door at the end of the hall, its dark wood polished and imposing. Without really thinking, you pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in deep shades of charcoal and black, the walls and furnishings exuding a quiet, masculine elegance.

A faint scent lingered in the air-something earthy and clean, almost intoxicating. The heavy curtains were drawn partway, allowing a sliver of moonlight to spill across the room, illuminating the sleek, minimal decor. A large bed, neatly made with dark grey sheets, stood in the centre, flanked by matching nightstands. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to the space, its quiet allure enveloping you as you wandered in.

Before you knew it, you'd settled onto the edge of the bed, your fingers absently tracing the texture of the comforter. The room was strikingly different from the rest of the house, yet it somehow felt familiar. You took a deep breath, letting the stillness calm your racing thoughts, a sense of privacy washing over you that you hadn't felt all evening.

Then, footsteps. Heavy, confident, each step resonating through the floor. Your pulse quickened as you glanced up, only to see him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of you sitting on his bed.

"Hey!" You blurted, standing up hastily. "You can't just come in here."

He smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his gaze unwavering as he crossed his arms. "Why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "This is my bedroom. I can come here anytime I want."

Your heart skipped a beat, caught between defiance and the sudden realization that you'd accidentally wandered into his personal space. Before you could respond, he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The sound seemed to echo, and suddenly, the room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that made you instinctively take a step back.

"Didn't expect you to make yourself so... comfortable," he remarked, his gaze flicking to the bed you'd been sitting on just moments before.

"It was an accident," you muttered, feeling a flush rise in your cheeks. "I didn't know this was your room."

He shrugged, clearly enjoying the effect his presence had on you. "Doesn't seem like you're in any hurry to leave."

His casual tone, his easy smirk-it all made you want to throw something, but you stood your ground, determined not to let him see how he was getting under your skin. "Maybe I just wanted some peace and quiet," you shot back, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent an unexpected warmth through you. Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall over the back of a nearby chair. His movements were slow, deliberate, and as he reached down to untie his boots, the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, emphasizing every powerful line of muscle beneath. You felt your mouth go dry, and you quickly looked away, your pulse pounding in your ears as you tried to ignore the heat that crept up your neck.

When he finally straightened, he met your gaze, his eyes sharp and knowing, as if he'd caught every flicker of reaction you were so desperately trying to hide. He took a step closer, and despite yourself, you felt rooted to the spot, your resolve wavering as he closed the distance between you.

"Seems like you're having a hard time keeping your cool," he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You crossed your arms defensively, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "You're imagining things," you replied, though even you could hear the slight unsteadiness in your voice.

He arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Am I?"

He was close now, close enough that you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes held that glint of challenge you'd come to both dread and anticipate. His presence filled the room, demanding your attention, and despite everything, you found yourself drawn to him, caught between the urge to push him away and the inexplicable pull he seemed to have on you.

"Maybe I'm imagining things," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looked down at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Or maybe you're just not as unaffected as you pretend to be."

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze like a physical weight. You wanted to fire back with something sharp, something that would deflate his confidence, but the words caught in your throat as he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His fingers lingered for just a moment, the warmth of his touch igniting a spark that left you breathless.

He leaned in slightly, his voice a murmur against your ear. "You know, you can walk out anytime," he said, his tone laced with that infuriating challenge.

The words jolted you, breaking the spell as you took a step back, forcing a shaky laugh. "Don't flatter yourself," you managed, though your voice was a bit weaker than you'd have liked. "I'm leaving right now."

You turned to head for the door, but you felt his gaze on you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, as if he already knew that you weren't unaffected, that maybe he'd left an impression deeper than you wanted to admit.

As you reached for the door handle, you barely had time to react before his hand closed around your arm, pulling you back toward him with a firm, unyielding grip. The movement was swift, almost instinctual, and before you knew it, you'd collided against the solid warmth of his chest. The impact left you momentarily breathless, the feel of his strength pressing against you, making your pulse race.

You looked up, your face mere inches from his, your breath catching as your gaze met his intense, unyielding stare. The amusement and mockery that had marked his expression earlier were gone, replaced by something deeper, something that sent a thrill through you even as you tried to resist it.

"Let go of me," you managed, though your voice was quieter than you intended, barely more than a whisper.

His hold didn't loosen. If anything, his fingers tightened slightly around your arm, his other hand moving to rest against the small of your back, anchoring you to him as if daring you to pull away.

"Funny," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble that sent a shiver through you. "You're the one who wandered into my room. And now you're trying to leave so quickly?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The nearness of him, the way his hand pressed against your back, steady and possessive, was dizzying. You could feel the rapid beat of your own heart, the conflicting impulses to push him away, and to pull him even closer, warring within you.

"You act like you're annoyed," he continued softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "But something tells me you don't really want me to let go."

A rush of defiance surged through you, but the intensity of his gaze, the magnetic pull between you, made it impossible to look away. Every nerve felt heightened, every sense attuned to him, his presence surrounding you, consuming you. You could feel his grip relax just slightly, his fingers still resting on your arm as if waiting, letting you decide if you wanted to stay or if you would pull away.

For a moment, you just stood there, suspended in that charged silence, your heart pounding, your breath shallow. The logical part of you screamed to walk out of the room to end whatever this was before it spiralled further out of control. But something deeper held you there, drawn to him, as if you were caught in a current too powerful to escape.

Finally, you found your voice, your defiance flickering even as your resolve wavered. "You really think you know everything, don't you?"

A slow, confident smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his hand shifted slightly, brushing the bare skin of your arm in a way that sent a shiver racing through you. "I know enough," he replied softly, his tone both a challenge and an invitation.

In that moment, standing in the shadows of his room, the world outside felt far away, and all that mattered was the electric tension between you, the unspoken possibilities lingering in the air.

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your chin up defiantly, meeting his intense gaze with a glare of your own. "What, you think I'm just going to let you win?" You hissed, the challenge clear in your voice. You could feel your heart pounding as the tension between you thickened, crackling like a storm ready to break.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, that confident, maddening expression that made you both furious and drawn to him all at once. He leaned in, his gaze never wavering, his eyes dark with something that sent a thrill through you despite your best efforts to ignore it.

"I always win," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the air around you, "all my wars, all my battles. So you'd better decide to lose it, sweetheart. Makes it easier that way."

The words hung heavy in the air, a promise and a warning all at once, and the closeness between you felt even more charged. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his grip still light on your arm, as if daring you to test his resolve. There was a glint in his eyes, that subtle edge of challenge that sparked something fierce within you-a determination not to let him have the last word, not this time.

"Maybe you haven't met your match yet," you replied, your voice steady, though the quickening of your pulse betrayed the thrill his words had sparked.

He chuckled softly, the sound dark and rich, and leaned in just a bit closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Careful," he whispered, his voice like silk, his gaze never leaving yours. "You might find that losing isn't as bad as you think."

The moment he removed the mask, your breath hitched. His face, so impossibly handsome, so raw in its intensity, made your heart skip a beat. The lines of his jaw were sharp, defined, and his eyes were dark, smouldering with a predatory gleam that sent a rush of heat through your entire body. His gaze locked onto yours, a silent understanding passing between you as his smirk deepened.

For the first time, you felt that guard of yours slip away, crumbling under the weight of his presence. Everything you had told yourself about pushing him away, keeping your distance, fell apart in the face of his undeniable allure.

He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, sending a wave of warmth that made it harder to breathe. His lips were so close, just inches from yours, and his words, low and taunting, slid like velvet into your ears.

"Just give in to me," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I'll show you the height of forbidden pleasures. I'll worship your body all night long, make you scream my name all night."

You could feel his breath hot against your ear, and before you could stop yourself, his teeth grazed your earlobe. The sensation was electric. Your knees buckled, your body betraying you as a soft gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, your pulse hammering in your ears.

The air between you grew thick, charged with tension, as if the entire room held its breath. The power dynamic shifted, and for a moment, you felt as though you were at his mercy, your body responding to him in ways you hadn't anticipated. You could hardly think straight, the heat of his touch, the way his words wrapped around you, making everything else fade into the background.

But even as your body reacted, as your breath grew faster and your mind swirled with desire, something inside you still fought. You couldn't just give in. Not like this. Not so easily.

"Stop," you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, a poor attempt at defiance. You placed a hand on his chest, but it was more out of instinct than strength, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "You're playing with fire," you whispered, though a part of you wasn't sure if you were still trying to warn him or yourself.

His grin only widened as if he'd expected this, as if this moment of resistance only fueled the desire to break down every last wall you had left.

"We'll see who gets burned, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing your neck, sending another shiver through your body.

You were intoxicated, already succumbing and losing the battle you weren't even meant to fight.

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the-songs-that-surround-us · 2 months ago

Note

It was his first date with Akira, and currently, he was struggling to get his outfit sorted out. Should he go with white or red? Lace or silk? Long or short? He began to panic as he counted down the minutes until Akira came to pick him up.

Eventually, he decided to wear a white lace shirt with a black corset on top, and he put on black fishnets and garters under his dress pants, which were also black. He finished the look off with polished black dress shoes with a half-in heel. For his makeup, he did black eyeshadow with white double-winged eyeliner and red lipstick. For his hair, he straightened it and made two braids, which he pinned back with gold hair pins shaped like leaves. Finally, he slipped on a gold necklace, small gold hoop earrings in earlobes with diamond studs in his cartilage piercing before deciding that he looked perfect.

Now, he just had to wait.

~ @princeofblackice

Akira had a bit of trouble figuring out what to wear, but decided to go with a simple tuxedo suit with a gold collar-like necklace, and four-pointed star earrings, and heeled boots. His hair's in a braided bun, a similar star charm on the hair tie. He wears rather simple makeup, with subtle but glittery eye shadow, a lip gloss that matched his lip color, and very light blush and highlights.

At exactly the planned time, he knocks on Yukihiko's door, holding a red rose.

#akira kuragari

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mirainwonderland · 14 days ago

Text

Leon x afab!reader

Content: fluff, domesticity, Christmas oneshot, established relationship

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The snow is beautiful.

I stand in the hallway away from the bustle of the party, watching as the snow settles softly over the streets of Washington DC. Big, feathery flakes drift down from the cloudy sky, the sun having set hours ago. People and cars bustle about in the streets down below, as a few stragglers hurry home to be with their families on Christmas Eve.

Part of me wishes I was home, but the other part of me is glad I had an opportunity to dress up and go out. Wisps of hair tickle the back of my neck where it’s pulled up with a gold pin, off the low shoulders of my red dress. My fingers drift back to finger the gold necklace draped over my collarbones.

It’s been a year since he gave it to me.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” A low, raspy voice interrupts my silent reverie. I turn my head to see Leon leaned against the open door, warm light and the sounds of festivities filtering out in the hall from behind him. One arm rests on the doorframe, holding a half glass of whiskey casually between his fingers. His dress sleeves are rolled up, and his tie is loosely tugged around his neck. He looks good like that.

I turn back toward the window, tracing the way the headlights move in a blur, like time is being slowed.

“People watching.”

His polished black dress shoes move near noiselessly against the plush carpet as he crosses over to stand beside me, peering over my shoulder at the enchanting scene below us. I can feel his breath blow gently on the back of my exposed neck, and it still sends shivers down my back.

“Being a little nosy, huh?” The jab is affectionate as he takes another small swig of his drink. His voice is rough from the number of those bourbons that he’s thrown back tonight.

“Yeah.” I turn my body toward him, resting my side against the frame of the window. The moonlight filters in through the foggy glass, highlighting his profile with handsome accuracy. A thin sheen of sweet coats the skin of his neck and forehead, his eyes attractively heavy from the alcohol. I reach up to tuck a fallen strand back into his slicked up hair.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice a soft murmur.

“Looking for you.” His tone matches mine.

“Miss me?”

“Well…” He looks down casually into the amber liquid swirling in his cup, a hint of affectionate humor in his eye. “Yeah, ‘little bit.”

I huff softly through my nose, plucking the glass from his hand. He watches with soft, amusement as I take a sip without breaking his eye contact.

“Strong stuff.” I cough, as he laughs and takes the drink back from me.

“You’re too sweet for a drink like this.” He downs the rest of it, rolling the empty glass in his hand as he forces the burning liquid the rest of the way down his throat.

There’s a comfortable silence as I roll my fingers over the pendant of my necklace again. After a moment, his eyes focus on my fingers’ movements, and a rough hand reaches out to brush my fingers away so he can get a look.

“Still wearing that, huh?” His expression barely changes, but I detect a trace of satisfaction in his demeanor.

“I’ll always wear it. Did you know that it’s a year ago today that you gave this to me?”

“I did know that.”

He frames the pendant on his fingers as he studies it, the intricate diamond studded edges of the little snowflake glistening in the scarce light.

“I remember what I said too.”

“You’re that sober?”

A little chuckle huffs from his nose as he drops the pendant against my bosom again.

“I am definetly in no shape or form sober. But…” He reaches his hand out to gently drag his knuckles down the side of my face. “…that doesn’t mean I forget.”

He steps a little closer, crowding into my space, causing the spicy scent of whiskey to completely envelope me. I tilt my head, leaning a little more into his delicate touch against my face. His rough hands handle my cheeks like he’s touching porcelain. Sometimes I forget that he’s the government’s killing machine.

Because for me, he’s gentle. A docile creature, overwhelmingly aware of his own strength. Like I’m a delicate flower he’s afraid of crushing with the slightest bit of pressure.

I smile, eliminating another step of space between us as I take one forward, taking his ruffled tie into my hands and running my fingers up and down it.

“Alright then. Tell me. What do you remember saying in that cheesy note of yours?”

A soft smile tugs on the corners of his lips.

“‘You remind me of a snowflake so… I got you one.’” He recites the words I know from memory. I still have that note.

My soft giggle echoes in the space between us. I see something spark in his eye at the simple sound of it. “That’s such a cheesy thing to say.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

He sets aside the empty whiskey glass on the window sill, and slips a strong arm around my lower back, pulling me flush to his warm, mildly sweaty body. I lean back, looking at him for a minute, studying this moment as if it will flutter away in the blink of time. My hands tighten around his tie, and I tug it forward, forcing him to bend down to my height. My lips are attracted to his as if by magnet, and I close my eyes as they entangle in a familiar embrace.

I would have kept him there forever, but he pulls away after a moment, soft eyes tracing over every feature of my face.

“We’re just missing a little mistletoe.” I whisper, studying him back.

“Damn the mistletoe,” He grumbles as pops my necklace off my neck, and holds it up above our heads, dangling it like a golden blessing of many, many more Christmases to be shared together. I watch the pendant dangle for a moment as it catches the light, reminding me just why I believe in a little Christmas magic. My gaze flutters back down to meet with his.

“C’mere, baby.” He brings his lips in for another kiss and I slide my arms around his neck. My whole body tingles as I taste the liquor and the affection on his tongue. One of these days, we may not be able to be together for Christmas… but I prefer not to think about that too much and just soak up everything I have now. I tighten my arms around his neck and push into him a little more insistently.

“I love you, Leon.”

Fingers thread through my hair. “I love you too, baby. Merry Christmas.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #merry christmas #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #reading #leon kennedy fluff #christmas #christmas fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader

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csuitebitches · 2 years ago

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Guide to Building a Classic Wardrobe

I was asked a long time ago by an anon for a guide to build a wardrobe. This style caters to someone mature, slightly conservative, NOT fashionnova-esque, something that will last a long time in all fashion seasons, provided you look after your items well. I live in a relatively hot climate and the coldest temperature I’ve experienced when living in a place is like 10 degree Celsius, so I will admit that I am not very well versed with living in cold climates for a prolonged period of time (I don’t think a 2 week trip to Switzerland in the summer counts as “cold”).

I have purposely built with keeping neutrals in mind. I’ve learned that its best to first build a neutral coloured wardrobe in mind, then start adding colour to it. You might find this wardrobe boring, but if you work in a corporate environment/ somewhere where you can’t showcase too much colour or creativity/ if you come from a relatively conservative/ high profile-but-not-entertainment /modest culture, you’ll find this useful.

ALWAYS keep an eye on the material of the item you are buying. If you have to buy a sweater and you live in a cold climate, buy cashmere. Yes, it will be expensive, but it will keep you warm and last longer. If you live in a hot climate, invest in tops and dresses made out of pure cotton. Material plays a huge role in the climate you live in.

I do not endorse fast fashion or over-consumerism but I understand that it is affordable. I would therefore recommend you to buy things carefully and with consideration, not just for the sake of the environment but for your wallet. It’s better to buy 1 quality item than 10 horribly made, short-lasting items.

Never mix more than 3 colours in your outfit at a time. That’s something my father taught me, and I recommend you stick to it, especially if you’re new to building a serious wardrobe.

Lastly, do not be enthralled by what influencers buy or wear. I can guarantee you that the clothes they wear on Instagram aren’t even theirs half the time. Don’t fall into the trap of micro trends.

(Pictures for this post have been sourced from Pinterest).

Underwear

Nude bra + thong/ undie

Black bra + thong/ undie

White bra + thong/ undie

Strapless bra (black)

Strapless bra (nude)

2 sexy bra sets (optional, I have these in red, pink, blue)

Nipple pads

Tops

White silk cami

Black silk cami

White plain tee

Black plain tee

White tank

Black tank

Beige tank (or whatever suits your complexion - brown/ nude)

White shirt

Black shirt (satin/ silk)

Blue shirt

Pants

Navy blue trousers

Wine/ red high waisted trousers

White trousers

Beige trousers

Black trousers

Straight leg jeans (blue)

Another pair of jeans (not ripped, blue)

White jeans, straight leg/ mom cut

Skirts

White

Black

Red

Beige (a checked print, like Burberry)

2 maxi skirts

1 pencil skirt in black (work appropriate)

Shorts

Denim (not distressed)

Tailored white shorts

Tailored blue shorts

Tailored black shorts

Formal attire

1 maxi dress - red/ black/ a neutral colour

White/ black vest and trouser set

Everyday dresses

Knit dress in black/ cream/ brown (long)

2 summer dresses, short

White peasant dress

Outer wear

Leather jacket in black/ brown

1 cardigan in black/ white

A shawl/ silk scarf

Denim jacket

Long trench coat in camel/ brown/ beige

Blazer in white/ navy blue/ black

Sweater in black/ white/ red

Shoes

Black/ white/ brown leather boots

White/ silver heels

Black heels

Gold heels

Mules in black

Home slippers

Running shoes

White sneakers

Accessories

1 brown/ black leather bag

1 tote bag

1 clutch for parties

Hair clips

Tights/ leggings - sheer and opaque in black

Socks

Jewellery

Diamond studs

Everyday pendant

2-3 simple bracelets/ bangles in silver/ gold

Signet rings in gold

Chunky hoops

Devices

Hair straightener

Hairdryer/ Blow brush (i prefer the blow dry brush)

30 mm curling wand (for long, big curls)

#c suite #powerful woman #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #c suite aesthetic #working woman #empire #beauty #fashion #wardrobe #styling #capsule wardrobe #basic fashion #neutral #fashion guide

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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To the Other Side

Spontaneous fic I decided to write because I want to witness Fellow and Rollo interact (outside of fan art) 💕 I took a lot of inspiration from The Other Side and The Greatest Show from the same musical, and this fan comic and this fan art.

There’s just something so fun about Fellow’s happy, playful vibes mingling with Rollo being deadly serious and hateful 😂

***SPOILER WARNING: Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land!!!***

Imagine this…

The nearby town was the only reprieve Rollo had from Night Raven College. Magic was school-sanctioned (in theory), but the rule did little to curb the spells fired off in spontaneous spats between classes, pranks, resolving minor inconveniences, and—this made his lip curl the most—for fun. He turned the other cheek in the presence of instructors, chided classmates when catching them in the act, and vented his anger in private.

Soon, he told himself. Soon, this loathsome school exchange program would be over, and Night Raven College put behind him. But one man can only take so much sin before his patience threatened to give, irritation spilling over his carefully constructed walls.

Out here, a bus ride away from campus, he was free from those vile villains, however fleeting it was. The air cleaner, his mind clearer, as he breathed in the salt-kissed, balmy air. Waves lapping against the pier, the town’s comfortable hum as time rolled by, a soothing song.

He looked out at the waters, blue tipped with the white of sunshine dappling a painting. It was alive, yet at peace with the world. Knew its place.

Rollo's eyes drift shut, and he allowed the sea to envelop him. Quiet, calming, completely—

“Oya? Oya oya oyaaaaa?"

An exaggerated drawl invaded his ears. It was an unfamiliar man’s voice, slick with overly honeyed friendliness.

“You there, sir!” he called out. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

Ignore him, Rollo coached himself. He is not referring to you. There are many people in the town he could be accosting.

The crack of a clap on his shoulder suggested otherwise.

Rollo’s tranquility splintered and shattered, like glass dropped. His eyes snapped open again, alert and irritated.

A man had emerged on his left, and a small boy on his right. They stood too close for comfort, and seemed to be leering at him. From up, from down, encasing him in a web of excited stares.

The man had ginger hair in a widow's peak, the rest swept aside to make way for sharp eyes. His suit was fine at a glance, olive vest and neat cravat, violet coat with golden details and tassels cinched over it—but upon closer inspection, there was a hole in the pinkie finger of his long white gloves, and a miscellaneous diamond patchwork of patterns running down his trousers.

Something about him screamed “showman". Perhaps it was the jaunty half cape that hung off his left shoulder or the knee-high spats over shoes that clicked loudly, calling attention to him, with each step. Maybe it was the sparkle-studded top hat upon his head, nestled between two twitching ears, or the cheery flicker of his bushy tail, or the cane in hand, topped with a golden fox. (... Rollo suspected it was his boldness, the sheer audacity to insert himself where he wasn’t needed.)

The boy with the showman was a cat beastman, shorter and disposition shyer. His hair was a red-brown rat's nest even clamped under a smaller, brightly colored top hat, his fur just as unkempt. The only thing that seemed to fit on his slight frame is a lilac shirt and a small bow tie. His mustard yellow jacket looked as though it has had its body sheared in half, then the fabric stuck back onto the oversized sleeves, the pants attached to his overalls saggy and patched up with the wrong patterns. Even his boots were wrong—untied—and socks mismatched.

He blinked at Rollo through eyes that sloped downward, his expression lax. His mouth was steady beneath a spray of dark freckles. The boy held onto a comedically large hammer, hands still trapped in his enormous sleeves as he gripped its handle.

Suspicious, Rollo concluded. They are highly suspicious individuals.

“… May I help you?” he asked, not out of kindness but as a courtesy.

“Ohoh!!” The man grinned broadly. “That composed stride! That stern, solitary gaze! Those extravagant robes! So sensible, so conventional. There’s no doubt in my mind! You, my good man, must hail from THE Noble Bell College!”

Rollo’s mouth was quickly forming a frown. A fan of flattery he was not. "What of it?”

The stranger chuckled, the coy hand on Rollo's shoulder not budging. The warmth of it made his skin crawl in spite of the layers of fabric separating them. "You've come a long way from the Shaftlands then! Tell me, how do you find Sage's Island? Is it everything you’ve dreamed it to be—or, dare I say, more?”

“I was beginning to enjoy it, right up until you and your companion happened upon me,” Rollo grumbled, jerking his shoulder away from the stranger’s touch. “I do not have many opportunities to steal away into town.”

“You have my humblest of apologies!” The man bowed deeply. It took a few seconds of lag, but the boy clumsily followed suit. “Gidel and I, we’re the curious sort, you see! We come across many wary souls on our own travels, and we want to get to know them. Isn’t that right, Giddie?”

Gidel nodded eagerly.

The fox beastman stuck out a hand, taking Rollo’s before he was given the chance to reciprocate or decline. He shook firmly, with enough strength to rattle around Rollo’s bones. “Fellow Honest’s the name! And you, my esteemed gentleman?”

“Rollo Flamme.” His reply was curt, intended to cut the conversation short with its bluntness. He tried to sidestep the man, but failed as Fellow slid to block him.

“Rollo—may I call you that? Great, greeat!!” he gushed, again not pausing for a “no” to potentially slip in. “From just a glance, I can tell you’re an upstanding, diligent student. You’ve been hitting the books so hard, you’ve barely gotten in a wink of sleep!”

Rollo’s mouth pinched. It was not an uncommon comment for him to hear, but he wasn’t the least bit delighted to have it spun as a compliment either.

“You poor, poor boy! You must be a nervous wreck!” Fellow sighed, sympathetically stroking the back of one of Rollo’s hands with his own. The student shuddered and pulled away with a slight glare. Rather than taking note of the displeasure, Fellow brightened, snapping his fingers. “That’s it! You are a nervous wreck!! We must diagnose this case at once.”

To Rollo’s bewilderment, Fellow produced a pair of spectacles from his breast pocket and slipped them onto his face. Gidel whipped out a notebook and a pencil from his overalls, poised to take notes.

“Let’s have a look at you!”

Fellow circled the dazed Rollo, poking and prodding at the boy’s lean frame with the butt of his cane. It bit into his ribs, his cheek, his thighs, as Fellow rattled off nonsensical phrases, Gidel reverently scrawling them down. Rollo swatted at the fox as if dispelling a pesky bug—but Fellow was too fast, too slippery, to land a clean hit on.

He at last stepped back, snatching up the notes from Gidel. (Rollo caught a brief glimpse of the writing—it was nothing close to what could pass as language.)

Fellow raked a hand through his hair as he seriously took in the report of scribbles. With each passing second, his features increasingly crinkled with concern. "Oh me, oh my, oh dear!! Alas, it's just as I suspected!"

"... What?"

The glasses and the notepad were promptly discarded. Props made meaningless now that their purpose was fulfilled.

Fellow snaked an arm around Rollo. Firmer this time, not something to be shaken off. "You, my boy, are allergic! To this drudgery! This cage, these walls!" He wildly gestured with his cane to their surroundings. "This life you're trapped in! You're stressed, depressed, mad, sad, miserable, all of the above!"

Each adjective thrown out drew Rollo's brows closer and closer together until there was no hiding his grimace. “I do not appreciate the unwarranted judgments being made of my character.”

"You see! My hunch was right!" Fellow flicked at a corner of Rollo's frown. It deepened. "There's only one cure for what you have: a vacation! And luckily for you, I have exactly what you need right here…!”

Reaching into his sleeve, Fellow retrieved a single ticket, sandwiched between two lithe fingers. The sepia image of an amusement park wreathed in flags was frames in crimson, blue, and gold. Admit One, trumpeted the ticket, to Playful Land.

“It just so happens that I, Fellow-sama, am the manager to the fabled amusement park of wonder, hopes, and dreams... Playful Land! Have you heard of it? It's a magical place with a plethora of rides, games, song and dance! Why, there's even a big stage where any member of the audience can be a rising star! The food, all free and ample!! You can gorge yourself on fun!! Doesn't that sound like a swell dream?"

Rollo deadpanned. "If by 'dream', you mean dreadful. To encourage casting aside one's inhibitions to indulge in all manner of vices... Your establishment is no paradise. It is a den of depravity, hell masquerading as heaven.”

"Eh?"

The strong hostility seemed to throw Fellow for a loop, gave him pause. He fumbled for a moment before finding his words again.

"My, my! Your allergies are worse than I thought...! Every kid needs to kick back one in a while, and you most of all! Since we're such good friends now, I would be more than happy to gift this prized ticket, good only for tomorrow, to you free of charge!" He winked, giving a theatrical twirl of his cane. Stars and sparkles exuded out from it. A small charm, a harmless trick. "No need to thank me!"

Rollo's eyes flashed, instant recognition setting him on edge. Similar items infested the City of Flowers every Topsy Turvy Day—enchanted handkerchiefs, tambourines infused with meager magic.

Disgust roiled through him.

"We have no such friendship," Rollo snippily corrected him. Is this man delusional? "Furthermore, tomorrow is a school day. It wouldn't do to miss it in favor of gallivanting."

“Now, now, I insist!!” Fellow pressed. “Please accept this ticket and take a load off, enjoy yourself. Live a little, laugh a little! The last thing I would want is for you to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity!! Skipping a single day of school wouldn't be too harmful for a star-studded scholar like yourself."

His gaze flicked to Gidel. The two shared a keen glint, a subtle signal, then broke out into a show, a flurry of tap dancing along the pier.

"Trade in your typical for somethin' magical!” Fellow cried with the tip of his top hat. “Where it’s covered in all the colored lights!! Where the runaways are runnin’ the night!”

Gidel fished out a party popper from under his own headwear. When he tugged on its string, crackles filled the air, the popper letting loose a shower of glittering particles. Fellow belted out a hearty laugh, swinging his cane to catch confetti.

"Come on to the theater!!” he urged—mostly likely reciting some park motto, Rollo ventured. “In Playful Land... Life is Fun!!"

Fellow struck a pose with his arms thrust out, punctuating the performance. Gidel was less dexterous, and settled for an awkward approximation of the same pose.

Expectant for applause.

“… Charming display,” Rollo remarked dryly. He picked out a limp streamer from his hair. With a huff, he blew the remaining confetti off of him. “However, only a blithering fool would accept such a dubious offer. Is that what you take me for, Mr. Honest? A blithering fool?”

Fellow recoiled, his ears flattening, and his bravado faltering. Gidel glanced at the older man, soulful eyes full of worry.

"You must have fantasized about a day off before! Don't you want to get away and forget about your work and worries? Don’t you crave freedom?”

"No."

"What of the desire to chase thrills? To see and to experience what few others have before, or to relive a childhood you've perhaps never had? Don't you want to cut loose? Go crazy? Party all day?"

"Never."

"How about stardom? Play a different role? Have you a longing to stand upon a grand stage, hundreds of thousands of adoring fans applauding your passionate performances?"

"Not once."

His patience wore thin like a braided rope down to its final connecting threads. Rollo tapped a finger against his folded arms. "Are you finished? I tire of my precious time being wasted. If you will kindly excuse me."

He turned back toward the town. Rollo was a few steps along a shop-lined street when, suddenly, the odd duo reappeared. They skidded to a panting stop before Rollo, walling off his path. Well, more Fellow than Gidel.

A look of annoyance ripped across the fox’s face. “HOLD ON!! What kind of person plays hard to get and then walks away from a conversation like that?! Would it kill you to stop and just listen to me, you bra…”

Fellow petered off midsentence and backpedaled, smoothing out his spite into a smile. "...aaave soul! I've yet to meet someone as assertive and as self-assured as you are.” He reached out and brushed off an invisible fleck of dust from Rollo’s robes. Simpering. “You're a man that knows exactly what he wants!”

Rollo bristled. He hadn't missed the sudden shift in his chummy behavior. All the more reason to suspect them. They’re very clearly up to something.

"Yes, yes, I can see it now!" Fellow continued, stroking his chin in contemplation. "What you seek is not amusement! You’re longing—no, aching—for something far greater, more ambitious!"

He leaned into Rollo's ear, cupping a hand to it. Gidel came from the other side, staring up curiously. Fellow’s voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Power, perhaps? The magical kind, even.”

Rollo visibly stiffened.

“Oh, have I got your attention?” The curve of Fellow’s mouth cocked, going crooked. A triumphant smirk. “You’re interested, I know it! Buried in those bones of yours, there's an ache, a thirst, for knowledge that you can't ignore!"

The fox wiggled a finger, his words rapt with wonder. “Playful Land is the product of maaany wise and talented mages! If you pay us a visit, you might be able to learn a thing or two from observing how we run the show. It's a valuable learning opportunity for a student of an arcane academy! How about it, kid? This surely is a deal you wouldn't want to pass up!!"

There was no indication of any feeling in Rollo's face. His eyes had glazed over, as though haunted, a veil shrouding his vision. He stared at Fellow as though he were a distant phantom.

Spin, spin. Fellow's cane did a little dance of its own. "Think of it: the fire, the freedom, the flood of magic. Blinding and outshining anything that you could know!"

Fire.

Rollo blinked. The veil lifted, and the man was rudely roused from an awake slumber. Neutrality replaced with a kindling emotion, sparse embers that did not yet know they would converge into flames. "... What did you say?"

"Everything you could ever want. Everything you could ever need," Fellow tapped the waiting ticket, "is here right in front of you. This is where dreams are made, where the impossible comes true: Playful Land. This is where you want to be—"

The fire flared, bile rising from his throat. Beneath his skin, blood came to a rapid boil. Hot, screeching, an intense fever pitch. The heat like a knife slashing through strings.

Hands lashed out, fervently seizing Fellow's arms. Rollo clutched onto him, a desperate parishioner to a priest preaching at the pulpit. But there was no such blind devotion in his expression, only something wild, untamable, twisted.

“What did you say?!” Rollo hissed, low and dangerous. Threatening.

Gidel jumped and skittered behind Fellow, hiding himself from view. The fox's hand found its way to Gidel's back to support the trembling boy.

"You've been mouthing off for quite some time, and I've been far more patient than you deserve." Rollo cut to the mustard yellow sleeve clinging to Fellow's leg. "You have a child with you. Refrain from spouting such ridiculous vulgarities in front of them.”

“Wh-What…!!”

“Is this the game you play?” Rollo’s grip tightened. Voice hoarse, a pained shudder threading through it. “Tempting children with the promise of whimsy and fun, encouraging them to be intoxicated by magic...!"

While you stand by, doing nothing.

An untimely demise by magic, a fate he knew all too well.

Consumed alive in a hellish inferno. Only a curtain of smoke and ash remaining. Slipping through his grasp when he was standing right there.

Brother...

Hot tears stung his eyes—but they dissipated near instantaneously, staved off by his burning fury. Anger and upset rapidly overtaking him.

Not again. He would not stand for it to happen, would not surrender. This, he swore, with a resolute breath, and cried out with all of his seething soul.

"Hmph! I thought you witless before, but it seems you are not a clown," Rollo spat. "You are the entire circus."

Fellow gave a light, cumbrous chuckle—but his eyes narrowed. Gone was his cheer, his merrymaking. What remained was serious, astute. "... Hey now, that's a scary face you're making. Is this really how you want to spend your days? Let's lighten up a little."

A bitter scoff sounded.

“Continue this farce, and I will not stop at raking you across the coals," Rollo warned darkly. Fire licked his fingertips, close to bursting free. "I will show you just how scary I can be. The righteous flames of judgment are cleansing. They will purge all sin, reducing the wicked to mere specks of ash."

He released Fellow with a slight shove. The older man fell back a few steps, finding his balance again when Gidel pushed him upright with a silent grunt.

“If you understand, then I will be on my way. Good day to you.”

With the path cleared, Rollo stormed right by them. Robes billowing in a passing sea breeze and austere face to the town, he almost looked the part of a hero emerging triumphant from battle.

Back to his everyday life, the same side as always.

Fellow gaped after the boy’s retreating figure. At the prey slipping away from every carefully placed trap he and Gidel had laid out for him.

"Well, I never...!!" he groused. A fresh, foul mood ripe like a rain cloud over his head, Fellow discarded his smile for a sneer. "HIIIIIIE~ What was up with that arrogant brat?!”

Gidel shrugged, his comedically large sleeves flopping as he threw his hands up.

"Damn it!!" The curse was out before Fellow could cut it off. "Next time I see that guy, I'll teach him a lesson for looking down on us!"

He angrily kicked at a soda can on the ground—abandoned by a wayward townsperson. With a CRUNCH, the can launched into a nearby lamp post, ricocheting off its base and bouncing back. The can connected with Fellow's kneecap. He yelped and seized his injury, trying to contain the pain.

Eyes blown open in alarm, Gidel rushed to him. The boy was waved off, Fellow's whimpers eventually dying down.

"My sulking worried you? … You're seriously too good for this cruddy world, Gidel," Fellow muttered, shaking his head. He ruffled the cat beastman’s mane of hair, the roughness of it grazing the unguarded pinkie poking out from his one damaged glove. "Never change, got that?“

Gidel bobbed up and down in agreement.

“Good.” Fellow drew himself up and adjusted his jacket. “Tch. Kids these days sure are spoiled rotten. You promise them the world and they still blow you off."

His thoughts settled on the boy from before. The remarks they had traded, the resistance the target had put up.

I thought a bit of magic would help loosen the kid up—but Life is Fun didn’t work on him, Fellow mused. I cast it so many times too. Between my magic and charisma, they usually cave so easily.

Yet Rollo had regarded him like a man possessed, had regarded him with such hatred. The mad, tormented look in his face. An iron barrier against the fluttery, champagne laced lull of his spell.

"... Must be somethin' wrong with him," Fellow concluded. All kinds of fucked up in the head and in the heart. "Yup, that's gotta be it! This Fellow-sama's way too cool to be outdone by any old student.”

Again, Gidel nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s alright, there’s bound to be flops! We’ll have to pick out our next mark much more cautiously.” Fellow shaded his eyes and squinted. “Let’s see…"

Gidel trailed after his gaze. Combing through a crowd for easy pickings was child’s play for Fellow, but the young boy struggled to hone in on the monotony of minute details. Little nervous tics and hesitations, chinks in armor to exploit. They were present, but Gidel’s eyes were like a broken camera. Zooming in, then out, blurring, never able to fully focus.

His attention strayed, slowly meandering back back to the piers. The sea was a simple thing compared to the town—natural, unrestrained. So easy to understand.

“Maybe that one… no, no, that would never work,” Fellow mumbles to himself. “They’re in too large of a group to comfortably break through. The girl over there? Tsk, the parents are hovering, can’t risk that…”

His eyes ran along the bustling town and along the docks. Like fingers along book spines or piano keys, a quick, light caress. Effortless.

Then he came to a full stop.

Did a double take.

And stared.

Hard.

There, lazily parked by the piers, was a small gang of boys, each dressed in the same smart black blazer and trousers, vests and armbands an assortment of colors. Tucked into their breast pockets were fountain pens topped off with magestones. Their style, those emblems, famous.

Fellow smacked Gidel’s back, snapping the boy to attention.

“Look alive, Giddie! You see that?” He pointed with his cane. “Those uniforms are…!”

His face lit up with understanding. Mouth ajar, eyes wide, brows raised.

“We’re in luck today!” Fellow snickered. He tugged on Gidel’s sleeve, yanking the youth to him. “Hurry, let’s get in front of them! We’ll cut them off, pretend as though we’ve bumped into them by accident. Then, we pounce…!!”

Gidel lifted his hammer—a cheer.

The duo scampered down the street, hearts drumming in their chests and adrenaline pumping. In that moment, they brimmed with all the hope and the excitement that Rollo had failed to exhibit. They were children racing to a dream destination, fools wishing upon stars.

Elsewhere in the town, someone sneezed.

Rollo pressed his handkerchief to his nose, retreating further into his robes. “… The weather suddenly took a turn for the worse. What an ominous omen.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Rollo Flamme #twst imagines #Fellow Honest #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #Gidel #Gidell #something no one asked for #Ferro Honest #imagine this #Gino #Ernesto Foulworth

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eleanor-bradstreet · 2 years ago

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Gala (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, just lots of thirst and suggestiveness Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

Author's Note: Requested by and dedicated to @queenofmean14 Bit cracky and intended to be humorous 😜 Also credit to @broooookiecrisp from whom I pilfered the job details of her modern Anthony.

“He’s here.” Security announced in your earpiece. Not that you needed them to. You knew the Jaguar as it pulled up. So did the line of paparazzi who started to jostle for the clearest shot. But when he stepped out, you didn’t even know your own name. Anthony Bridgerton, CEO of Bridgerton House Enterprises and your boss, was going to make tonight even more difficult for you.

He had talked to you about his planned outfit beforehand, but you hadn’t gotten a preview and hadn’t envisioned it like this. A perfectly tailored velvet tux jacket accented with a diamond bee brooch. Smart shoes, an effortlessly coiffed wave of hair and most arresting of all, a pair of sleek shades that he slid on as he exited the car even though it was long past sundown. An errant corner of your brain replayed some 80’s song lyrics, but you couldn’t deny that the entire look worked. It worked entirely too well for you as your body flushed with heat and breathing suddenly became a task. The man could wear the hell out of a tux.

Granted, he always looked mouthwatering no matter how he was dressed, and as his executive assistant for the span of eight months you had seen the spectrum of his wardrobe. Everything hung so perfectly on his muscled frame, exuding old money power with a currently fashionable touch. Clothes made the man, but you suspected Anthony Bridgerton could elevate a bin bag. It was a visual challenge you had adapted to in your job, over time finding it easier and easier to speak to him without choking on your tongue first. His arrogant playfulness had helped with that and the two of you had built a deep mutual trust, a friendship even. You had bonded in the trenches of corporate crises enough to sling endearing insults at each other and always be blatantly honest. Except about one thing. You could obviously never reveal to him how desperately you wanted to jump his bones. How your blood simmered when his voice dropped to a certain pitch. How you broke into gooseflesh whenever he shook your hand and met you with something caring in his deep umber eyes. The light flirtation you both fell into from time to time certainly didn’t help either. And now with him in black tie, you began to wonder if this job was hazardous to your health.

Tonight was the company’s annual charity gala. A star-studded event at one of London’s best hotels where celebrities and socialites donated funds for the hospitals partnered with BHE. Anthony would give the closing speech and as planned, was the last to arrive on the red carpet so that he would get unencumbered press focus. You had spent the entire day on site making sure everything was prepped to perfection and now you stood at the top of the entry stairs with the other staff, ready to welcome the MVP of the evening. Given the high profile of the event, you had dressed for the occasion too. You would be seated at his table and weren’t going to be photographed looking like an intern. You had found a dress you loved, a shimmering number that showed off your best assets, and splurged on a hair and makeup artist. Maybe your position made you more akin to the prince’s valet but if this was how you got into the ball, you were going to make the most of it.

You watched Anthony pausing for photos, realizing this was one of the rare times you could observe him from afar. He moved with such confidence, back straight and head held high. He would run his fingers through his greying temples or brush a thumb over his stubbled chin while flashing that killer smile and your legs wanted to give out. He knew how to work a camera. It was one of the many awful, wonderful things about him. But if the attention helped raise money for charitable causes it was all worth it. You supposed your undergarments could suffer for the greater good.

As he moved along, you noticed he was licking his lips. A peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he faced your direction. He was probably hot under all the camera flashes. But that small gesture was infecting you with heat too. He really needed to stop or you were liable to tumble down the steps and really make a headline. It took all your strength not to fan yourself with the tablet you were holding until at last he ascended and gave you a dazzling smile, falling into step beside you as you moved indoors.

You hovered in his orbit as he was greeted by the first throng of attendees at the bar and you called for a flute of champagne. When he was alone at last for a moment, you pulled him into a quiet corner and offered him the drink.

“Thirsty?”

“Sorry?” He moved closer, inclining his head. He was curiously still wearing his sunglasses indoors. You could smell his cologne. Amber and smoke and spice and it made you want to sink your teeth into his neck.

“Are you thirsty?” You said louder, shoving the glass into his hand as he chuckled.

“Why do you ask?” He took a sip.

What a stupid question. Couldn’t you just offer him some refreshment? Didn’t humans need to hydrate? Now you had to answer him.

“I um…” You wavered. “I saw you. You were…licking your lips out there so I just figured…”

His brows show up over his frames and he grinned. “You’re very attentive.”

Something shot down your spine. His voice was getting close to that register. “It’s my job to take care of your needs.” You reminded him, though you laid on a heavy layer of sarcasm.

“And you are so very good at it.” He rumbled, reaching the danger pitch. Oh god, he was going to assault you both visually and aurally at the same time, wasn’t he? He was going to flirt with you while daring to look like that. He was cruel, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

He confirmed it by stepping even closer, turning so the front of his velvet jacket brushed your bare arm and he leaned down to murmur directly in your ear. “You look incredible by the way.”

You swallowed hard, instructing yourself to inhale and exhale. But that wasn’t really helping because his intoxicating scent was making things worse. You had to keep your head. You had to spar with him or else you were going to melt into the carpet. “So do you.” You pursed your lips and gave him an exaggerated once over as if you were only mildly impressed. “The glasses were a good choice.”

He smiled and you detected something genuine, like he was actually eager for your praise. He tapped the frames lightly. “Useful too. I don’t have to give anyone my undivided attention if I don’t want to. I could be talking to them while scanning the crowd and they would be none the wiser.”

This sounded like the setup for a joke. Something about not listening to you as you conducted him through his schedule for the evening. You were beginning to resent those glasses and you would let him know if he tried to get sassy with you.

“So what are you looking at?” You smirked, waiting for the punchline.

He took another sip of champagne, facing you but now you couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t staring directly over your head. “A beautiful woman who is driving me to distraction.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. The man lived at the office and didn’t really have time for a social or romantic life. He would have to double up and treat a work event as an opportunity for a hookup. Especially at an event as glamorous as this, with so many swanlike women floating around and everyone dressed in their finest, you understood, despite the envy it flared in you.

“Ah, I see. Is there someone I should invite over to your table?”

He shook his head, downed the last of the champagne and set it aside with a decisive clink. “Unnecessary. You’re already at my table.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took your brain several seconds to even comprehend its meaning. You must have been going mad. Your heart started to pound, fueled equally by embarrassed confusion and ridiculous hope. There was no way. Absolutely no way on earth he could have said what you thought he said. And even if he had, he was just toying with you, right?

“I’m not…” You stuttered, hoping he couldn’t see the blush you felt creeping up your neck. “You weren’t…you weren't looking at me.”

Then your breath caught in your throat as he rounded on you, standing directly before you so your back was pressed against the wall and all you could see was him. He loomed, black velvet and chestnut hair and perfect stubble. That scent was making you feral and now you could feel his hot breath across your skin. You could see yourself in the reflection of his dark lenses, peering up at him like trapped prey. This was how you died. Or lost your job. You were sure of it.

“How would you know?” He smiled wolfishly and tapped the glasses again. “All the better to see you with, my dear.”

You were hit by lightning. The gooseflesh rippled across your skin. Your underwear soaked. All you could do was stand there and tremble as he ran a finger idly up and down your arm. You were surprised sparks weren’t erupting out of your skin where he touched you.

“Why do you think I was licking my lips?” He asked in a low voice, finally removing the shades to pierce through you with his dilated, chocolate eyes. “I’m afraid even with the champagne, I’m still thirsty.” Then he did it again, flicking that weapon of mass destruction across his luscious bottom lip and staring at you pointedly.

Your brain functioned enough to realize that he was breathing just as heavy as you were. And that he was opening a door, giving you an option. The option you had been fantasizing about since the day you met him. It seemed too good to be true. You were half convinced you were dreaming in a coma after faceplanting down the steps outside thanks to his appearance. But the prickle of your electrified nerves and the river between your thighs felt real enough to persuade you that you were indeed still in your own body. You were not going to pass this up, whatever it might lead to. Really, you wanted to scream aloud like you had won the lottery.

But instead you whispered, “There’s water in the green room.”

He grinned broadly, creasing that dimple in his left cheek that you wanted to lick right off his face. “Excellent idea. I think we’ll need an emergency private conference to…go over my notes.”

His hand found the small of your back and you prayed that your legs would carry you that far. This was really going to throw off the itinerary but you were good at your job, you could adjust. You smiled back at him. “Whatever you say, sir. I’m here to take care of your needs.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #modern au #thirst #met gala #jonathan bailey

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persephonessecrets · 2 months ago

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How to Dress Elegant and Timeless 🥀

Embrace neutral tones—earthy tones, blacks, whites, and muted colors exude sophistication and are easy to mix and match.

Go for tailored fits—well-fitted clothing flatters your body and instantly elevates your look. Invest in tailored blazers, pants, and dresses that highlight your shape without being too tight.

Opt for luxurious fabrics—choose materials like silk, satin, velvet, and high-quality cotton or wool. These fabrics drape beautifully and look expensive even in simple designs.

Stick to classic silhouettes—choose timeless cuts, think pencil skirts, A-line dresses, or a structured trench coat. These never go out of style and always look polished.

Keep accessories minimal—elegance is about balance. Opt for one statement piece like a delicate necklace, a pair of diamond studs, or a sleek watch instead of overloading on accessories.

Prioritize high-quality footwear—a good pair of shoes can make or break your look. Invest in classic styles like pointed-toe heels, ankle boots, or sleek loafers in neutral shades.

Choose subtle, feminine details—lace, ruffles, or soft pleats can add a feminine touch without going overboard. Keep it subtle for an effortlessly chic look.

Pay attention to hair and makeup—elegance extends beyond your outfit. Keep your makeup natural but polished, and style your hair in soft waves or a sleek updo to complement your refined look.

Monochrome looks are your friend—dressing head-to-toe in one color, especially in neutral or muted tones, creates a sleek, streamlined silhouette that radiates class.

Confidence is the ultimate accessory—no matter what you wear, the key to elegance is how you carry yourself. Stand tall, move gracefully, and wear every outfit like it was made just for you. Confidence is always in style.

#elegance #femininity #high value woman #monica bellucci #inner confidence #classy #beauty #high value mindset #classy fashion #90s aesthetic #old money #subtleclassy #expensive taste #luxury

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laniluvsuu · 1 year ago

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Tidal wave

I lowkey don’t like this…also I didn’t proofread🌚😣 this is so long mb y’all..

Camboy Satoru Gojo x Camgirl Blackfemreader

You and Gojo were cam workers, and not too long ago you both made the choice to work together one night, a show for your fans.

You quickly made your way down your steps to answer the door for your special guest. You opened the door to reveal Gojo’s icy blue eyes staring back at you with a soft smirk.

“Hi Gojo, come in..!” You said giving him a smile while moving your body slightly to the side so he had room to enter. As he walked into your house you noticed he was wearing grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt, which was decorated with a sliver chain, while his ears decorated with diamond studs.

“Hey pretty girl.” He said as he took his shoes off and followed behind you as you lead him towards your filming room. He smiled as he walked in thinking about ways he was going to fuck you up in this room.

As he continued looking around the room, he also took note in your body language. You were nervous, which made his ego rise higher than before. “You nervous y/n?” He said with a smirk on his face while he walked around the room.

“Hmm? No. Why?” You said as you poked your head out of the bathroom connected to the room Gojo was inspecting. You were nervous but excited too, Gojo was fine as hell, and his videos were even better.

“Oh? Then never mind.” He smirked at you while he manspread on the bed you two were gonna be soon.

You came out of the bathroom to log into your computer to see how much time the two of you had left, and it was twenty minutes before it was time. You set the cameras up to your website, so when the time was up the show would immediately start. You listened to Gojo ramble on about how excited his fans and yours were when word got out you two would be collaborating.

“We got twenty minutes left.” You said as you made your way to the bed to sit next to him. He nodded and grabbed you before you could sit on the bed and sat you on his lap. He grabbed your face gently, bringing it in closer into his, placing a kiss on your lips, you quickly kissed him back. Moving your hands up to run them threw his platinum blonde hair.

His hands moved down to your covered ass and your thighs, rubbing them softly while sticking his tongue into your mouth. You let out a soft moan feeling his tongue roam your mouth. By the time you two pulled away from the kiss, you looked back at your computer to see the time now being 10 minutes.

“Oh shit.” You said getting off of Gojo’s lap to go grab the mask for your face. You watched as Gojo’s eyes flashed between your face and the mask in your hand with a questioning look.

“You don’t have to wear one. I just wear mines for fun.” You said as you could tell what he was thinking just by his facial expression.

You then noticed your five minute reminder going off you pressed stop on the loud alarm, and felt Gojo’s strong arms wrap around you. He dipped his head into your neck, placing small, hot kisses, while walking you slowly to the bed. Once you two made it to the bed directly infront of the camera you heard him say. “Lay on your back for me mama.”

You did what he said almost immediately, watching him take his shirt off on top of you revealing his inked covered skin as he leaned down to place several kisses on your glossy lips. Once the two of you pulled away you looked over to see a red dot on your webcam indicating your viewers were watching.

You felt Gojo’s veiny hands tugging and pulling down your pants, he smiled once he completely took them off and saw you went wearing any underwear, this gave him easy access to your pretty pussy. “No panties? You make it so easy for me.” He said as he leveled himself down to your pussy, still keeping eye contact with you.

He wasted no time pushing his head into your pussy. You let out a soft moan once you felt his fingers spread you pussy lips and his pink tongue slide up and down your pussy, before he starting eating you out.

You felt his middle finger move in and out of your puckering hole, his nose nudging your clit each time he moved his head. He groaned against your pussy as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, moving his fingers up to mess with your clit.

Each movement he made with his fingers had your legs twitching around his head as you brought your hands down to his platinum head of hair, attempting to push his face down further into your pussy as if it was possible.

He lifted his head up to spit on your pussy then going back down to lick your pussy up and down leaving his fingers messing with your clit, moving them around in circles as he kissed on your pussy.

“You ready for me Mama?.” He said as he lifted his head and body up, licking the juice from your body off his face. You nodded your head as you watched him lower his sweatpants and his underwear.

You payed attention to the way his hard dick sprung out and hit his lower abs, he walked closer to you and slapped his dick on your pussy, hitting your clit each time.

His eyes met yours before he said “ass up face down for me baby, wanna show our fans how much of a slut you really are.” He said knowing that your covered face would be facing the camera while he watched you get into the position he requested, he watched you move back your ass back to reach his pelvis, grinding your wet pussy on his dick, he swore he could cum just by this.

You let out a squeal when he slapped your ass watching it jiggle each time he did it. “Gojo…please.” You begged him not being able to take it anymore just wanting him to fill you up.

“Shh…shh. I gotchu mama. Don’t worry.” He said as he pushed himself into your pussy groaning out once he felt how warm and tight your pussy felt around his huge dick. His inked hands reached up to your hips, harshly bringing them back to collide with his.

“Mmph f—fuck yes!!” You yelled to him digging your head down into the pillow below you, once you felt him progressively speed up you moved you hands back to slow him down, you slapped on his lower abdomen. That only resulted in him now holding your hands back as he fucked you even harder.

The way he was fucking you, you felt like he was gonna break your pussy. You felt his pink tip kiss your cervix over and over again. You moved your head to look back at him with tears from pleasure falling down from your eyes. Once you two made eye contact you watched his face turn up into a smirk, he could see the tears falling from underneath your mask. You then watched as his hands reached up to head to turn your face towards your webcam.

“Awh baby, f—fuck. you crying?” He said groaning at the way you clenched on his dick when the words left his mouth. You couldn’t even get a word out, your mouth opened with an “O”, broken sobs coming out of your lips.

“Take this shit off. Let them see those tears baby.” He said as he started to remove your mask, but stopped once he saw you moving your hand over to the button to turn your lamp off so they wouldn’t be able to see your face. He stopped your actions by slapping your ass so hard your brown cheek instantly turned red.

“Don’t you fucking dare turn the lights out, I want them to see your beautiful face.” He said slapping your ass again but this time as a warning. “Let me take your mask off mama.” He said to you as he slowed down his strokes in your dripping wet cunt. You just nodded unable to form words bc of how good his dick felt inside of you, the way you felt every vein on his dick touch your gummy walls, and the way his tip attacked your cervix made you feel light headed.

As he took off your mask he put his left hand under your neck and force you to look up at him. He kept his right hand down at your hip as he sped up his moments even faster this time, looking down into your eyes, his smirk growing larger as he saw more tears falling from your watery.

“Mhmpf please d—daddy! slow down!” You moaned out to him in broken sobs as you felt your lower stomach warming up. You couldn’t even think. You mind cloudy and filled with nothing but Gojo and his dick.

Gojo just smiled down at you moving his hips harder into your bruised pussy, he leaned his head down to kiss you, the kiss was so intense, filled with passion and need. It felt like passion was dripping off the walls and into the kiss. He felt your ass slapping his pelvis each time he brought you back on his dick. He moved his right hand from your hip to your chest to free your boobs from your tank top, letting them spill out.

“O-oh im gonna c-cum!” You yelled out the second you two pulled away from the kiss. Gojo took his hand from under you neck to place it on the back of your head pushing your face down into the pillow, and moved his left hand down to play with your clit, fucking you harder and faster once he felt both of your climaxes approaching.

“Go head’ baby im right there with you, oh f-fuck!” Gojo called out as he felt you cum all over his dick. Once you came he came, shooting his load in your cunt, painting your walls white. He couldn’t take how wet, and tight your pussy was around his cock.

You moaned softly as he kept moving slowly, pushing his ongoing load deeper into your pussy, you heard him whimper behind you when you clenched around him as he finished inside of you.

Gojo collapsed on top of you stuffing his head into the crease of your neck, and reaching his long arm up to turn your webcam off and stop the show for your viewers.

Gojo moved his right hand back to caress your ass while whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he kissed his way back down to your ass. He started moving his pelvis, feeding his dick back into your tight pussy and saying. “You can be a good girl and go again for me right?”

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theambitiouswoman · 2 years ago

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How To Look Elegant

Choose classic and timeless styles: Invest in pieces that never go out of style such as a little black dress, tailored trousers, or a crisp white shirt. Neutral colors will always make you look more expensive and put together.

Opt for quality over quantity: Invest in high-quality, well-made garments or accessories that will last longer and look better.

Pay attention to fit: Make sure your clothes fit well, without being too tight or too loose.

Dress appropriately for the occasion: Consider the level of formality and dress accordingly.

Accessorize wisely: Keep it simple and understated. Choose elegant and timeless pieces such as a pearl necklace, diamond stud earrings, or a classic watch.

Be mindful of grooming: Make sure your hair and makeup are well-groomed, and that your nails are clean and polished.

Wear comfortable shoes: You want to be able to walk and stand comfortably for long periods of time.

Remember, the key to dressing elegantly is to have a well-thought-out wardrobe that showcases your personal style, without being too flashy or over the top!

#elegant woman #elegance #elegant #womenstyle #womens fashion #level up journey #high value woman #femininity #feminine woman #luxury #classy

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harlowtales · 1 year ago

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Big fight between Reader x Jack on his birthday releases tension in their relationship.

⚠️ toxic dynamics 18+ only ‼️

Jack and Urban blew out the candles together on their Pokemon cake. As the candles fizzled out and left trails of smoke Jack realized you were gone. “Where is she?” He wondered concerned “Babe?” Jack called out in the hallway of the bar where the women’s washroom was trying to find you. Rumbling beats filled the dark hallway. He didn’t hear you crying until he got closer.

He knocked and pounded “Baby? You ok?” He said not 100% sure it was you in there sobbing or some other drunk girl. He pressed a diamond studded ear to the door that was reverberating from all the bass to distinguish your voice and confirm it was you. Unfortunately he was familiar with that cry.

“Y…yeah???” You said shakily through your tears

“Baby what’s wrong. You disappeared. We sang happy birthday. Urb’s worried too.” Jack said through the door

You didn’t answer. You just couldn’t deal with it anymore. With HER….with THEM. Why did they always have to be at everything Jack did. Not one time could he just not invite his exes. Always shaking their asses right in front of him. It was too much. They knew it bothered you and Jack never said anything. Just said his “friends” were playing around.

“Jack go away.” You said finally and seething with anger. “Just… leave me alone, that’s all I want now.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jack said banging on the door. “Is it the girls?”

“Gee how did you guess?” You said sarcastically

Jack sank down to the floor in front of the door. You were right and he knew it. He was torn between old friends and you knowing he had been with them in the past. He regretted telling you, but this was one thing he didn’t want to mess up. No lies, just straight up honesty. He knew you were the one. That being said if it was him in your shoes around guys you had been with that you kept inviting to everything, he’d lose it. “Babe I’ve told you they’re just like that.” He reasoned. He didn’t think he had to explain much as he showed you every day how he felt with hours on the phone when he didn’t really have time, gifts showing up at your door when he was gone, FaceTime no matter what time zone he was in, the wining and dining, making you the face of Phocus to bring you into the business, and not exactly hiding you when he posted on IG lately. He told you he was almost ready to go public. You didn’t know but there was an engagement ask in the works. His team was busy planning the whole thing behind the scenes. But right now tequila had kicked in and you were in no mood.

“They’re just like that?” You said angrily “Some of them have an Only Fans for fuck sakes Jack!”

“Ok but am I on it? Babe please. I don’t want to spend my birthday on the floor in front of this door. Open the door….PLEASE” he begged

“You’re on the floor?” You asked through your tears

“Yeah. You think I’m moving from here as long as you’re in there crying?” You heard him say faintly, muffled by the door and thumping beats.

You blew your nose, wiped your tears and after a few minutes you slowly opened the door. Jack stood up and hugged you tightly. “Oh my baby girl” he said holding you close and kissing the top of your head. “Don’t fucking worry about them.”

“REALLY JACKMAN? Are you seriously looking me in my eyes and saying that?” You were a mess now. Your hair was dishevelled and your mascara was smeared. You pushed him away.

“Who am I fucking with?” He said irritated and raising his voice “Why we gotta do this every time?”

“Because your guest list needs to fucking change up that’s why, cuz you fucking playing around on me I just know it, them bitches is too bold with they booty all up in your face and what the fuck do you do? Laugh. You laugh and y’all have a great time and I see they stupid asses every fucking where, like what are you thinking? You know what? Fuck this shit I’m out. For good. You know how many guys I ignore? Nice guys too. Naw this is some bullshit Jack. I’m going to get some other business because your a fucking liar!” You pounded his chest and headed for the door but he easily blocked you and locked it. You furiously tried to get out.

“Are you done because I have something to say too.” He waited for you to finish going off but you weren’t going anywhere drunk and angry on his watch. He loved you even after all the things you just said and all that he knew he was doing to show you what his intentions were. Now in this moment he was hurt and mad. “We need to talk.” He motioned to a stall.

“Oh ok you want more smoke huh?” You challenged in full gangster mode.

He locked the stall door “Turn around” He ordered.

“Fuck you.” You shot back

“Turn.” He repeated

“I said…fuck y……” Jack put his hand over your mouth and his other hand found its way up your dress and yanked down your underwear. His eyes a wild brilliant blue piercing into yours.

“Jack!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you felt his fingers abruptly enter you.

“I’m too soft all the time so you think you can disrespect me but I am not playing. Do you understand?” He breathed heavily into your ear

“Yes. I do. I swear I do Jac…..Ugghhh” You said in delicious agony. He turned you around. His entry into you was slow and not graceful. Jack was gifted and as he opened you up your legs had to adjust and do extra duty to hold you steady. He picked up speed immediately and had you in a headlock as he proceeded to pound you so hard the whole stall was shaking and creaking. Jack was never this aggressive and you were trying to make sense of what was happening.

The sounds of loud tortured moaning and rapid slapping of your flesh collided in painful pleasure echoing throughout the bathroom. You were going to cum already. The tension mounting in your core with each thrust was like how the tension between the two of you had been building for months. He felt how wet you were getting and the tightening of your grip around him. It felt so good tears welled up in your eyes out of confusing ecstasy. “Jack…Jack please!” You pleaded hanging on to the stall door. You were pinned up against him in the tiny space as he relentlessly drove straight up into you in a rhythm that communicated how dedicated he was to his pain in this moment. Every vein was tensed. He was rock hard and void of sympathy for your screams.

He had never seen you lash out like this. You complained but never had this kind of an outburst. Sometimes he wondered if you cared as much as him but there was no doubt now. He was upset you thought all those things but was highly turned on by your display of raw emotion he had been craving at the same time. You felt his beard digging into your shoulder while he concentrated on making you feel every inch of him. Everything came rushing to the surface like all of your feelings.

He loudly called out your name “Y/N!” and shot a stream of desire into the furthest part of you. He stayed in you for a bit and held onto your ass trying to steady himself in exhausted frustration and satisfaction. He was drained. He wanted to send you a strong message that every ounce of passion he possessed was for you. He was mad at himself for making you question how much you meant to him. Knocking and pounding on the bathroom door jolted both of you out of the alternate universe you had been in for all of under 10mins.

“Hello! I need to fucking pee!” The voice said faintly through the throbbing bass in the club.

Jack pulled out gasping and you pulled up your underwear. “Babe” he said heaving “Let’s not do this ok?” You nodded trying to catch your breath not able to speak. You both walked out of the bathroom fixing your clothes and you gave the girl waiting to get in a smug smirk as you walked by. “Ooops! Sorry” you said in fake sweetness “Didn’t mean to hog the bathroom.” She glared back at you and Jack who flashed her a dimpled grin and flipped her off.

It was quite obvious what you had been up to. Your hair was still a bit of a mess and Jack was tucking his shirt back into his pants and readjusting his glasses. All the girls were looking you up and down in disgust as the girl fired off a text to them about what she had just seen. “Bruh” Urban said to Jack taking him aside “She was pissed huh?”

“Not anymore” Jack said “I let her know she’s the boss of these bitches.” He said tilting his head back and taking a long sip of well deserved water. “And I’m going to be changing up the usual VIP guest list.” He said looking around him making a mental note of who was on the chopping block. He shot you a look across the bar as you bit your lip and shot him a look back. You mingled and chatted happily with his friends and family in a totally different mood. “Happy Birthday to me.” He said to himself smiling.

***Had this sitting around since his birthday not knowing what to do with it***😈💋

Tag List: Please DM to be put on, taken off, or for me to follow you✌🏾Thanks for all follows 🙏🏾

***I write family fics, sweet, drama, smut***

@jacks-daycare @killatravtramp @jackslilsecrett @jackmans-poison @jharlowsangels @a-moment-captured @comehomeimissyou @hoodharlow @hotsforharlow @heavyhitterheaux @itsyagirljaz @iheartharlow @spicypiscesthings

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #fanfic #hip hop #romance #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fanfic #dramatic #writing

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tinydeskwriter · 2 years ago

Text

Grammy Night 23’

"I feel like I'm going to burst the seams of the dress." Y/n commented looking at herself in the mirror as Lamby's assistant finished zipping her dress, her breasts were almost bursting out of it, a beautiful creation made of Swarovski silver crystals.

“Darling, you are going to be the hottest woman on that carpet.” Her husband’s stylist praised her bringing in his hand the fishnet mask with crystals that would go over her eyes and dyed peacock feathers that went on the back of her head. “See if the crystals will get in the way of you seeing.”

“Honey Baby, how do I look?” Y/n turned to see her husband walking into the room, she knew what he would wear, she had seen the sketches but it was another thing to see the final result. Harry looked hot as hell, the colorful crystal patchwork jumpsuit couldn't be more perfect on him, it showed his chiseled body, the tattoos, the fantastic chest his fans—and wife—are crazy about, all the hair, the lonely curl... Harry just smiled, the answer to his question was clear in the way his wife stared at him. "See people, that's why we have three kids." He joked pointing to his wife, causing their team to laugh. “You are a vision Honey.” He said pecking her on the lips, hands going to her waist. “My favorite MILF.” He whispers, kissing her neck.

“Says the man who half the internet calls ‘’Daddy’” She teases.

“Having my kids did good to you.” He jokes staring at his wife's cleavage.

Y/n just rolls her eyes, a smile still in her face.

“Darling, Sue, sorry to interrupt your dirty talk, but it’s frosting time, and then you guys are good to go.” Lambert came their way with a jewelry tray.

Before Lamby could start helping Y/n with the pieces of jewelry they'd selected at Tiffany's in NYC the week before, H interrupted him, pulling a chain from his pocket.

“You don't have to wear it today, I bought it as a push present and also celebrate my Grammy nominations, I wouldn't be here today without you, My Love.” The chain was white gold, delicate with colored stones, and a teardrop diamond the same color as her engagement ring held by a fig.

The woman was speechless, looking from the necklace to her lover of more than a decade. It was a substantial gift, but Harry had always been generous, and he enjoyed spoiling her since they’re teens and couldn’t afford diamonds. She just turned around, allowing him to fasten the jewel around her neck. She ran her hand over the diamond, it was the exact same color as her engagement ring—a fancy green diamond almost the same color of her husbands eyes—.

“My Love… this is beautiful, thank you so much.” She turned around, taking his face between her hands and kissing him passionately, trying to express through the kiss all her love for him.

Harry smiled into the kiss, his hands tightening on her hips.

Jeff came in at that exact moment to inform them that the car was already waiting to take them from the Chateau to the Crypto.com Arena.

Lambert and his assistant quickly help Y/n put on all the jewelry Tiffany had borrowed them, the Edwardian choker, which complemented the necklace Harry had given her, a mishmash of earrings—a massive chandelier, followed by a dainty stud, and diamond hoops—in all of her ear piercings, a beautiful Art Deco bracelet mixed with the colorful collection of tennis bracelets Y/n wore to mark every Mother's Day since the birth of her eldest son.

On her fingers she preferred to go with her usual rings.

Her engagement ring and wedding band were the only rings on her left hand. While on the right she wore the same 'S' as H on her little finger, a delicate 'H' in colored diamonds, infinity bands of different stones, and a vintage solitaire on her index finger—a Christmas present the kids had picked out with Grandma Anne —.

Lambert's assistant helped her on with her shoes—high-heeled Mary Janes from Gucci—while she was held by both Harrys to keep her balance.

As they were rushed to the car by Jeff, Y/n remembered to turn around and ask someone to remember to pack her breast pump along with the rest of their outfits.

In the car, to try and ease Harry's anxiety, they video-phoned the children—who were being watched by Gemma and Anne—Primrose answered their grandmother's cell phone, dressed in a bear onesies that made her look like a teddy bear, showing the TV room to her parents and the snacks gran-gran made, auntie Gemma sitting in the couch with a sleeping baby Bluebell, the three months old dressed just like her big sister. Otto was in the bathroom according to Prim who was chattering non-stop making Harry smile more relaxed.

It always warmed Y/n’s heart that nothing could make H as happy and relaxed as their babies.

They said goodbye to their daughter when the car stopped in front of the arena, Y/n handing over the phone to Jeff to keep. Harry get out of the car first and waits in the doorway to help his wife out and supports her from behind as they make the slightly uneven path between the car and the carpet, his right hand firmly on her right while his left hand was firmly on her hip, and she held his wrist for more balance. The couple made their way under the screams of fans and the flash of cameras.

It was only when they were already at a certain point on the carpet that Harry placed himself next to his wife and the two started to walk hand in hand. They stops for photos along the way, but don't do any interviews, heading straight for the cocktail area. The couple interacted with acquaintances and friends, especially those they hadn't seen in a while. The last two and a half years have been crazy, Fine Line, Covid 19, quarantine with two young children, Pleasing, Harry filming and premieres, Harry’s House, Love on Tour and a new baby. They were busy and it seemed like they rarely had time for their friends, as all their free time was being spent with the little family they had created together.

Both changed clothes in Harry's designated dressing room before heading to their seats—crystal outfits were cute but impractical when you have to sit for hours, Harry donned a Gucci suit costume made for him, while Y/n wore a silver sequin Markarian gown matching Harry's shirt. The couple certainly looks gorgeous, always matching theirs outfits in subtle ways.

They have their hands clasped together, she holding his hands so he wouldn’t pick on his cuticles, Harry is quieter than usual allowing Y/n to take the lead and interact with other people—which, having been married to him for nearly eight years, and knowing him since she was born, she could tell it was a sign of nervousness.

She whispered to him how amazing the album was and that he didn't need the validation that it was a little golden gramophone for the world to know that.

Nervousness turns to euphoria when Harry becomes the first winner of the night, taking the award for best pop album.

Y/n didn't even hear Jennifer Lopez's introductory speech, her eyes focused on Harry's handsome profile.

Y/n is the first to his feet when he hears Harry's name being screamed by J.Lo, applauding his husband energetically, the smile on Harry's face is blinding, he takes his wife's face between his hands and kisses her, before continuing to be hugged and greeted by people around the table and nearby. She has tears in her eyes, which the cameras make a point of showing when they zoom in on her at the exact moment when Harry on stage dedicates the award to his wife for being his muse and inspiration.

One of the highlights of the night for the couple was without a doubt the fact that Y/n had been invited to present the performance of 'As It Was'.

In a gold-metal mesh top and long skirt, showing off her midriff, the woman who had become famous at fifteen as Harry Styles' 'best friend' took the stage flanked by her two eldest children, seven-year-old Otto, dressed in a pink suit and beige turtleneck by Gucci and a crochet daisy bucket hat covering his curls, and adorable four-year-old Primrose, twining with her brother in a blue Gucci suit, her curls adorned by a huge crystal bow.

“Many of you fell in love with the next artist to perform here tonight in 2011 when he became one of the members of one of the biggest boy bands in history, he has been delivering hits ever since, amassing fans around the world, and delighting hearts with his music, he is an icon, a sex symbol, and one of the greatest musicians of our time, but for us he is simply the greatest husband and father, it is with immense pleasure that I am here tonight, with our two eldest children, to introduce one of the most authentic, generous, kind artists on the planet, the love of my existence, here, to delight us with his Grammy-nominated song 'As It Was', my husband and father of my children,” She lowered the microphone, allowing the two children to squeal excitedly into the device, “Harry Styles!”

And for the first time in a live performance Primrose was present to say the already famous: ‘Come on Daddy! We wanna say good night to you!' driving the audience crazy.

Y/n and the kids made their way to their table dancing to her husband’s song, the mother of three splitting her attention between walking in her heels and looking where the kids were going, Otto made a short stop dancing with Taylor Swift, and saying something to her that made the singer throw her head back laughing. Y/n greeted Taylor with kisses on the cheek before redirecting her son to their table.

An extra chair was brought over for Otto—who was at the next table greeting Lizzo and Adele.

Prim sat in Harry's chair waiting for daddy, and Y/n wouldn't even insist that the little girl sit on her lap, as she knew she couldn't compete with her husband when it came to their children. When they least expected it, Harry was back, in his Gucci suit—and not in what Otto was referring to as ‘daddy bedazzled Chewbacca costume’.

"Surprise!" Y/n sings to her husband as he lifts their daughter up, making the little girl giggle, and sat with her on his lap, kissing their daughter's cheek, and fist bumping their son.

It was a surprise she had been planning for over a week, at times she was afraid someone would let it out, especially Prim, who was known in the family for not being able to keep secrets—just like her daddy.

“Thank you, Honey Baby.” He thanked his wife with a peck, his whole face lit up with the appearance of the children. “You look godly.” Harry complimented her, eyes roaming all over the outfit, he knew what a big step it was for his wife to wear something so daring after three pregnancies, despite her beautiful body—especially in his eyes—Y/n was insecure about her stretch marks.

“Thank you, my life.” She pulled his hand to hers and kissed the back of his hand.

They watched the awards half-heartedly, at every turn Otto and Prim brought their parents' attention to them with funny anecdotes, and Y/n was having to keep a hand on their son's shoulder to make sure the boy didn't wander off. The family of four cheered when Lizzo was announced as the winner of Song of the Year, Otto ran with open arms to the honorary auntie congratulating her for the award, he didn't even care that 'daddy' had lost, auntie Lizzo had won!

With every moment that passed, anxiety rose, Y/n was confident in her husband’s album—the album she had inspired—, while Harry was sure Album of the Year was between Beyonce and Bad Bunny.

She shook Harry's hand as Noah Trevor took the stage to announce the final awards of the night, asking fans of the nominees to join him, when the comedian asked Harry's fan to read the name on the envelope, Harry broke down with gratefulness, disbelieve, joy…

Prim clung to her father's neck screaming that he had won.

Y/n stood up applauding her husband, Otto hugging his mother's hips showing his father’s twin smile, dimples and all.

Harry got to his feet after composing himself, smiling Primrose hanging on his neck with her legs curled around his hips.

Harry kissed his wife with a huge smile, ruffled his son's curls, hugged Jeff, Tyler and Tom, Lizzo, who filmed everything excited. The singer took the stage with his children and their two producers, he put Prim on the floor so he could hug his fan and accept his award, Primrose and Otto hugging him on either side.

“Shit…well, shit.” He looked at his children. “Sorry kids.”

H was speechless, Y/n could see it from a distance.

Jeff wrapped a arm around her when she started to tear up.

Harry was so humbled and grateful, and this was such a huge moment in his career, and she was so proud of the man she had married. The boy from Holmes Chapel who worked in a bakery and always came to pick her up with cupcakes in his hands and flowers he had picked from the neighbor's garden. Her husband was a three times Grammy Award winner, and he had just owned the biggest award of the night.

The woman frowned as she heard people in the audience yelling negativity at her husband, how Beyonce should have won and some yelling at him to get off the stage.

This was his moment, it wasn't his choice to win, two thousand of his peers had voted and chosen him, chosen Harry's House as the best Album. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but you don't have to be an asshole.

Treat People With Kindness.

She was happy to see Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Shania, Lizzo, H.E.R and Adele giving him a standing ovation, and hearing his shaken speech.

He once again dedicated it to her and their kids, calling them ‘his home’. Y/n quickly joined her husband backstage, arms going around Harrys’s neck, as his hands found her hips. The couple smiled at each other before kissing passionately, his team applauding the moment.

“I’am so proud of you, My Life.” She held his face in her hands. “You did it! You put out an amazing album, delivered a killer tour, 2022 was your year, and you deserved that Album of the Year award!” She states brushing his nose with hers, a huge smile on her face before kissing him again.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader

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