#i could spend some of my red gems but...

[gifti3]

Get me out of chapter 2 NOW

[emssturniolo]

bracelet

pairing: christopher sturniolo x reader

summary: a bracelet catches chris’s eye while you’re out shopping, and you decide to treat him :)

a/n: the bracelet i have in mind is the pythia one, if anyone was around in late 2022 i hope this takes you back a little

despite not being public yet, you and chris had decided to go out for a date in the morning in la.

when you woke up and got ready, you said your goodbyes to nick and matt and headed off.

you had agreed on visiting one shop in particular which you both really liked, so you parked in the nearest parking spot and headed out.

you and chris were both super happy to get to spend a day with each other, and if anyone were to question why it was just you two, you’d simply answer that nick and matt had other plans.

going through the shop together, you and chris each picked out things you liked, but something in particular caught chris’s eye - it was a silver bracelet with stars that had red gems in the middle.

chris picked up the bracelet in his hand, examining it well. the look on his face was something similar to what it looked like when he talked about something he was passionate about, and you knew he really wanted it.

“you like it?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, it’s sick!” he responded.

“get it then.”

he turned the bracelet around in his hand and found the price tag, but as soon and he read the price, he seemed to replace the expression on his face with a frown.

“it’s so expensive.” he said in a whiney tone.

you looked over his hand and read the price for yourself. $100, and though it was not expensive, he explained to you that he didn’t want to spend much money right now because he was trying to save for something else. but you saw the look on his face. he had to have that bracelet.

so once you finished looking around the shop and decided on trying on some stuff, you suggested you’d go first.

you took your time making sure the things you picked out looked good and fit you well, and asked chris on his opinion, because you knew he loved when you helped each other out with your clothing styles.

and when you were done, it was his turn to try his things on - and this was your queue - before he got in, you told him you had seen something earlier and wanted to get it, letting him know you’d be gone for a few seconds.

as soon as he left your side, you hurried over to the little table where the shining bracelet was. you picked it gently, and made you way swiftly towards the cashier to purchase the bracelet on it’s own, just so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.

once you payed for the item, you made your way back to where chris was, reciprocating what he had done to you and giving him your view on the things he tried on.

soon enough, you two had payed for your things and left the shop. on your way back to the car, bags in hand, you had reached your hand to hold chris’s. as he opened his hand for you, you grabbed the bracelet from the pocket of your pants and gently placed it in his hands.

he looked down. it took him a second to realize what he was holding, but once he did he stopped walking.

he looked at you and took a step back, then with a smile on his face asked

“whyyyyy ? you know you didn’t have to!”

you could tell he was appreciative of the gesture by the look on his face, but you also knew he loved being the one to do things for others, not the other way round.

“because…” you replied, “you deserve it. so much, my love. plus, you look really fucking cute when you blush.”

his face reddened and he looked down before looking back up, the smile on his face now so much wider. he leaned his head on your shoulder, and pulled you in for a hug before whispering a soft ‘thank you’, his words muffled against your skin.

you helped him put the bracelet on, and continued walking to the car. the rest of the day, he was super smiley and kept offering you the prettiest smiles. not that he didn’t usually, it was just that these ones spoke volumes of the appreciation and love which he has for you, silently thanking you each time.

and you knew it wasn’t going to be long before he came back to you with a gift of his own, but you didn’t mind. he was happy and content with his new piece of jewelry, and he wore it everyday since, and as long as you knew that your boy was happy, nothing else mattered.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him. 

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special. 

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded. 

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks. 

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you.  But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through.  "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart. 

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two. 

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice,  "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody. 

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[christronomy]

Hi!! Its the anon who sent in the chan car ride hard thought with the insta reel, if u remember me. But i have came to give u a new hard thought. First off, HAVE YOU SEEN THE VID OF CHAN DOING THAT LIL FINGER MOVE IN HALL OF FAME?!? i feel dizzy. 😵‍💫 anyways, onto my hard thought, picture this, y/n is scrolling on twt and that tweet that says imagine chan fingering you till you cry (or sum like that i hope you know what tweet im talking abt) and it has the chan vid attached to it, THEN BANGCHAN COMES INTO THE ROOM AND CATCHES Y/N AND FINGERS HEER OMGGGG (also i jus noticed that i used twt and tweet instead of X, sorry lol)

of course i remember you! hi, love! and YES, of course i saw that tweet, and i feel totally not normal about it! i would link them but i can't remember which accounts they're from sigh. also i hate calling it "x" bc cause wtf is that. LMAO

but onto this gem of a thought. honestly, he'd tease you so much if he caught you gushing over those tweets, he'd be so sweet about it though. if you don't mind i wanna add some more to this under the cut cause it just came to mind hehe (it's so long and i didn't proof read. help).

he caught you trying to finger yourself in his dorm room after spending almost hours scrolling through your timeline. you weren't really expecting to see anything interesting, but the only thing that popped up was the clips of him and that finger movement that caught your attention and immediately drove you insane. you couldn't help but keep watching the same clip over and over again in awe. it was just so attractive, especially when he made that certain expression and looked right straight at the camera, almost as if he were looking right at you.

so here you were now, desperately bucking your hips up against your hand, sticking your fingers as far inside your cunt as you could, palming your clit to gain some extra friction. you whined exasperatedly as you failed miserably yet again, not being able to get that stimulation you so desperately wanted.

chan got home a few minutes ago, so he's already been watching you, chuckling to himself softly cause you just look so cute like that—legs spread, face flushed a bright red, fucking your fingers in and out of your sopping hole. you keep going for a few more minutes, until you finally toss your head back to groan in frustration because it's just not enough.

his cock is already twitching, straining in his pants at the sight of you, so he can't help but open the door, and he finds it cute how you immediately close your legs and draw your hand back, the surprise of having been caught in the act showing on your face. he laughs softly and sits next to you on the bed. "what's wrong, love? you upset?" he asks, his tone teasing, yet sweet, and you can tell it's because he knows exactly what you were doing.

you nod and sigh, trying your best to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why you were naked on your boyfriend's bed, alone, when you knew he'd always expected you to wait for him whenever you needed to get off. "i was scrolling through twitter, and i saw these tweets about you... i got curious so i spent a while looking at them, and then..." you trail off with a gasp as he suddenly grabs your phone from where you'd put it next to you on the bed. you try to snatch it back, but he's a lot quicker than you. he scrolls a little bit, his expression serious, and then a smug smile plays at the corner of his lips as he looks at you again.

"aw baby, is this why you were so hot and bothered?" he asks, as he shows you one of the clips he was looking at, the same one from earlier, and your face turns an even darker shade of red as you nod. "that why you were using your cute little fingers, even though you know they're not good enough? you've got me right here. you could've asked me instead of just watching videos of me. i'll do whatever you want as long as i can make you feel good."

you feel like you're melting at the way condescension practically drips off his tongue, and you let him spread your legs for you again, this time using his own fingers to tease your swollen bud. he's such a dream come true. "'m sorry i couldn't wait for you," you start, but he shushes you softly. "that's okay, baby. i'm here now. i can help you," he says, and you want to thank him, but your words are cut short by the almost embarrassingly loud squeal that escapes your throat when he suddenly sticks his pointer and middle fingers in without warning, curling them just right, just like in that clip, finally giving you that pleasure you'd been chasing for hours now.

he watches you intently, from the way your back arches, to the way you clench around his fingers, but his expression stays blank. it doesn't take you that long to cum, and when you do, he doesn't stop. you look at him with furrowed brows, whining from the overstimulation, and he simply chuckles at your expression, not saying anything as he keeps torturing your walls with his fingers mercilessly. he's pushing you close to the edge all over again surprisingly quickly, and once you reach your second orgasm, you're already asking him to slow down, stop for a minute, so you can catch your breath. still, he doesn't. by the time you reach your fourth orgasm, you're already a sobbing stuttering mess as he makes you even more dumb on his fingers, begging him to stop, but that only makes him go much faster, his palm smacking your clit as he does so.

"this how needy you are for me? wanting to get yourself off without me cause of some video? you poor thing, thinking your fingers alone would satisfy you. you know you can't do it without me. guess i just have to remind you, hmm?"

[jifanjiang0710]

Closed Doors

yan secretary! zhongli x ceo! reader

Lantern Rite was fast approaching. From the glass windows that extended from the ledge at the bottom to the expanse of the ceiling, you could see that every corner and alley was alight with crimson silk and flowers, couplets and ribbons, lights flashing incessantly even in the mind’s eye. Your own office building had some, sporting of the festivities despite the heavy workload the staff have been burdened with recently.

A hand on your shoulder, a whisper of your name, by your ear.

“You have worked hard. Would you care to chat over dinner?”

“...I’m busy, tonight.”

Zhongli pulled back, gently, as if he had taken the rejection well. When has he ever, in this one-sided… situationship… thing?

“Then let me drive you home.”

“No, I’m fine.” You feel like throwing up, even though you had not eaten in many hours. The last time that occured…

No words. He is displeased, and it strikes a hot bolt of guilt through your veins. He did only mean the best for you, your trusted secretary.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“I can assure you, my dear, it is no hassle at all. Do you not trust me to keep you safe, after all these years?”

You sigh. He speaks much like a doting grandfather. Your eyes trail to the two long red strips on the office door.

“ ‘Longevity like the highest West mountains, blossoming relationships akin to the depth of the Eastern sea.’ Isn’t the second part a bit out of place, Zhongli?”

The man in question leaned in, lowering his glasses and scrutinising the words on the couplet. “So it is.”

“Nothing more to say?” That was uncharacteristic of your secretary.

Zhongli coughed, as if to distract that. “I find the emphasis on interpersonal relations between persons agreeable. Is that not something you wish to have in your life, [Name]?”

“I… suppose?”

You knew he wrote it, and dare not remove it from the front doors of the company. You had to settle with unmatching couplets for the next month.

“Speaking of which, [Name]...” he said, tailing behind you at such a leisurely pace that you always had to stop several times for him to catch up. “The, ah, schedule for the company celebration on the second day of Lantern Rite has been updated. I have assigned your seating arrangement near-”

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. I won’t be around next month. I’m going back with my family to celebrate.”

…

“Zhongli?”

Why is he…disappointed? It is perfectly fine and common, for the overworked CEO to take time off to visit their loved ones for the holidays. Zhongli still feels an ache in his rustic heart as you said that.

You wouldn’t be spending Lantern Rite with him.

Last year, and the year before that, and the year before as well, you had; too busy slaving for the survival and growth of the company to take the journey home. He doesn’t know what to do with the chip at his feelings knowing you will not be around this year, even if it only consists of the two of you working late nights at the office, and him replacing your lukewarm cup of tea from time to time. By the time he replies you have arrived at your private office.

“... I see.”

After all he’s done for you, as well. Do you view him as nothing but a subordinate? 

Zhongli chided himself, shelving these thoughts for later. His younger self would succumb to petty, childish musings like these, and he would imagine he has matured.

He sees you falter, perhaps noticing the shift in mood. “Are you going anywhere for Lantern Rite?” you asked.

He smiles, not too broadly, making sure to keep his eyes still.

“Where has an old man like me to go, except for work?”

To the untrained eye, you seem unphased, but your secretary knows better. With a little observance, he can detect your uncomfortable twitches, fidgeting, wandering eyes. And, contrary to public belief, Zhongli can be very observant. How do you think he picks out the gem amongst stones? To him, you are that very diamond he so desires.

“Please, you are hardly half the age you act. You could… take a trip somewhere south, escape the cold…”

How intriguing. Before you can blink he towered over you, arm brushing against your shoulder. Zhongli looked you directly in the eyes, without a hint of warmth or the usual wise whimsy he conducts himself with.

“A most interesting suggestion. However I do not intend to go holidaying off by myself.”

You had no response to that, still recovering from the apparent change in attitude of your secretary.

“Not to mention, I would… how do I phrase this… find myself missing you terribly.”

For a moment, you think you see the amber in his eyes morph into a disgusting, bloody red. It could easily be passed off as reflection from the hanging lanterns.

He continues, when you don’t speak. “So, when you return to your, ah, loved ones, partake in the wonders of tradition and communal gathering… please think of me as well.”

A sweet statement turned sinister. Was this how he had gotten you to stay for the past year, and all the Lantern Rite’s before that?

Come to think of it, you don’t know why you were so busy back then either.

“After all, [Name]...”

He would do anything to keep you here, under his watchful eye and within his clutches.

“What is a poor old man to do, without you?”

He tried to play it off as a joke, a light-hearted statement made meant for mild amusement. You seemed to take it well, offering a hesitant chuckle. If you find this off-putting, he would hate for you to discover what he did to earn his position as your secretary. When he was young it would have been much more… how to put it? Physically forceful. 

The bloodlust from them has since faded. How would you feel seeing him slathered in crimson? Cringe in fear and revulsion, or praise him for his devotion?

He finds violence by his own hands unnecessary, now. He can do just as much and more with the influence he currently wields.

The manager who tried to seduce you, the owner of a rival company’s snark comments, all the scathing words of Internet users who think it so clever to be cruel to you behind a screen… one way or another, he has taken care of them as a good secretary would.

All that has paid off. Now he is your most trusted staff, the one who understood every quirk and minute action. No one had been through every high and low, seen you inside and out like he has.

He caresses you so gently, as if you were the most delicate petal or the most fragile diamond. As if all this was right and normal, for a secretary to do.

Who would suspect Zhongli the gentleman, collected, distinguished and composed of such depravity?

“Good morning, dear. Happy Lantern Rite.”

You trusted him, wholeheartedly.

But when you eventually wake up in his arms, in his bed, to the sound of firecrackers and joyful festive cheers, even after he promised the last time that it was a one-time mistake and would not happen again, you’re not quite sure you do, anymore.

[helaelaemond]

The Princes and I - Daemon/Aemond/Reader

Pairing:  Daemon x Aemond x she/her AFAB reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Daemon is an old lover of yours. He invites you to spend some time with him and his new lover, his nephew Prince Aemond.

Content warning(s): canon-typical incest (uncle/nephew), brief mentions of brother/sister incest, brief mentions of uncle/niece incest

INCLUDES: oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering (m receiving, f receiving), breast worship, vaginal sex (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving). Top!Aemond, bottom!Daemon

Masterlist

With a smile, Daemon opened the door to his chambers. He was flushed under the collar and his ears were red and he was happy, and the sight of you in his doorway almost made him laugh in delight. 

“My lady,” he greeted you fondly. He let go of Aemond’s hand so that he could take both of yours and kiss your cheek. You so warm. 

“My prince,” you replied with a sly smile. “I do hope I am not disturbing you.” 

“Certainly not.” He pulled back only slightly, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer by the waist. “Thank you for joining us.” 

For a moment, you closed your eyes and tilted your chin up until your nose brushed his, and your smile was one of satisfaction. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

It was you who broke the touch first. With your hands in his, fingers stroking the worn skin around his knuckles, you pulled back to look at Aemond by his side. Your smile did not fade. When your gazes met, his cheeks turned pink. 

“Nephew, this is an old friend of mine. My lady, this is Aemond.” 

Despite trying to comb his hair back in some semblance of dignity since Daemon had grasped it, some had fallen across Aemond’s eyes. He touched the sleeve of his tunic and blinked. The sapphire in place of a missing eye glinted in the firelight “It is an honour to meet you, my lady.” 

“The honour is mine, my prince. I have wished to meet you for many years.” As introductions were made, Daemon gently tugged on your hands to bring you into the chambers, and the guards outside closed the doors. You were alone, shut away from the world. You would have peace. 

He made a fuss of you, unclasping the velvet cloak from your throat to reveal the soft dress beneath. Daemon thought of you when he smelled lavender, and you wore the scent now. And the colour. After setting your cloak on a table close to the door, he drank in the sight of you. The purple dress was almost sheer, soft and light and floating about you like a spring breeze. Your arms and shoulders were bare and on your skin, constellations of freckles splashed from head to toe. The slits of the dress were as high as your waist, allowing him glimpses of your strong thighs. The neckline was plunging and about your neck, you wore a sparkling gem set into silver. 

Aemond wore the dragon pin Daemon had procured him. You wore the eagle pendant he had bought. He bit his lip as he looked between you, trying not to grin. 

“You are most kind,” Aemond said stiffly. His lips had gone thin and pale as his uncle had revealed more of your skin, run his hands over you in light touches. You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek.  

“I hear many great tales of you,” you mused with a gentle laugh. Your hair shifted like starlight as your head moved to the side. “By all rights, you ought to be a knight. Or perhaps the heir to a king.” 

“Don’t forget yourself,” Daemon chided you. Softening his words, though, he ran his knuckles up your arm and to the chain around your neck. He touched the old gift, before ghosting his fingers in remembrance of how he used to choke you. 

Turning to look at him, mere inches from your face, you licked your lips and smiled. “I do not forget myself, my prince. I am merely humbled to be before two such great men. Two Targaryens, gods among men." 

Daemon snorted. "I never much appreciated the honey on your tongue. But how skilled you are with it when you do not speak."

"You wound me," you replied with a raised brow, scarcely able to hide your grin. "And you lie. If you truly believed what you say, you would have tired of me many seasons ago. But still, after all these years, you call me to your side."

He couldn't resist kissing you deeply then. The intensity of it took your breath away - his fingers clutched the silver around your neck and yanked you closer, while his tongue pressed hungrily to the inside of your teeth. "You're not my only friend now," he grunted between kisses. "Are you going to be my nephew's friend, too?"

After a long moment, you pushed Daemon away with heavily lidded eyes. You glanced over at the young prince, and held out your hand. He took it hesitantly. “Any friend of my prince's is a friend of mine, Aemond. I think you quite dear to him, and I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance.” 

His shoulders visibly relaxed as the introductions began to shed their formalities, and he echoed the words back to you. He offered you wine and you accepted. Daemon watched you interact so easily and quickly. He watched how Aemond raked his eyes over you, and saw the tell-tale signs of how much he was beginning to enjoy you. Liked looking at you. Being near you. It mingled with the lust still rushing through his veins. 

The evening was slipping into night. Outside, though, it was still warm and the clear sky twinkled with a hundred thousand stars. Daemon followed his lovers, past and present, out onto the balcony and took with him a goblet of wine. On the wide patio were soft sofas and deep chairs and you and Aemond had chosen to sit opposite each other. He took a chair, and you took a sofa. Daemon leaned over Aemond and kissed him long and slow before settling on the sofa next to you. From the way he shifted in the chair, Daemon knew it had done nothing to soften Aemond’s desire. He watched him as he took a sip of wine, imagining him riding his cock on this very sofa. 

But then he looked at you whose gaze was on the stars, and Aemond was replaced with you. How pretty you used to look atop him, riding him and taking your pleasure from him however you liked. You were such a bright soul; it made it all the more enjoyable to see you enjoy yourself with him however you liked. He got to see a side of you that few others did. 

His robes were soft and did not hide his desire. When you looked at him, it did not escape your notice. The corner of your lips twitched but you didn’t remark upon it. Given your state of dress, you had come to his rooms with your own expectations. 

“Aemond,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the hungry gaze of Daemon, “won’t you tell me the tale of how you came to Dragonstone? There are many rumours as to why - I am curious of the truth.”

Aemond leaned back in his chair and told the tale of his assignment to Dragonstone following the death of Viserys to keep the peace. You listened curiously. When it came to the matter of him essentially being held hostage, he looked to Daemon for reassurance. Settled comfortably back in cushions and enjoying the sound of his lover’s voice, Daemon had nodded slightly. You were discreet and trustworthy. 

“How curious,” you remarked with interest after a while. “There were many who assumed your brother would take up arms against the Queen.” 

Daemon smirked. “It is astounding what loyalty a few nights in my bed can inspire, isn't it, nephew?” 

On the chair across from you, Aemond blushed deeply. 

“And how did it come to be that you… found one another?” 

“The queen introduced us. She, ah…” Daemon hesitated, and glanced over at Aemond. He inclined his head once, granting permission. “Would you really like to know?” 

Smiling, you nodded. 

Daemon moved closer on the sofa to you until he was almost behind you. Aemond’s gaze burned into you as he ghosted his lips across your shoulder. He left a whispering kiss on your neck and breathed against your ear. “I found him in Rhaenyra’s lap, full of the queen's fingers and cock untouched, almost mewling. He looked so pretty, so wanton. I couldn’t refuse when he almost begged for me.” 

Your eyes closed. Your hand grasped his thigh, air suddenly stolen from your lungs. “Is that so?” 

“You should see him, my lady. He is so perfect when he is given what he needs.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“What do you need?” 

Pulling away slightly, you looked back at him. “More than a few pretty words.” 

Daemon knew how to work you. Soft conversations, kind words, compliments, gentle touches. They filled the evening with them. Aemond stayed where he was, content to watch for now. He was a quick learner. 

“My prince,” you moaned softly. Daemon had stripped you bare and laid you on his bed and settled between your legs. How he had missed it here! His mouth found its place on your breast and he teased your nipple with his teeth and tongue. You never tired of the attention; you loved it. You sighed and scraped your nails over his scalp. Silver hair slipped through your fingers. “Yes.” 

Aemond hesitated at the foot of the bed. He wanted to watch, but he wanted to feel, too. Something about seeing your neck arch and thighs tremble just from the attention on your nipple had him leaking through his breeches, though, and just a touch of your speckled skin would be too much. 

Daemon sucked harder and teased your other nipple between long fingers. He pressed his knee hard between your legs and you swore. Immediately you found a rhythm against his knee and thigh and as he lavished attention on your chest, you chased your first orgasm. 

Aemond watched as you threw your head back and the intensity overtook you. Your whole body writhed and your legs shook and you pressed Daemon’s face tighter against you. Before you had the chance to come back down, he slid down your body and buried his mouth between your thighs. 

Aemond let out a soft and strained noise. He couldn’t see his lover’s lips against their guest but he could taste you in your mind. He could imagine how slick you were against Daemon’s chin and how your clit throbbed against his tongue. You grasped your breasts and pressed your nipples between your fingers in an echo of Daemon’s ministrations. You came quickly a second time. 

After, Daemon kissed your mouth and let you taste yourself on him. It made you laugh, made you wrap your arms around his neck. He stroked your cheek and whispered something soft to you. You nodded and kissed him one more time before letting him go. 

“Aemond,” he called out smugly. “Come to me, my prince.” 

It was strange, but Aemond didn't much mind the sarcastic tone his uncle had whenever he used his title.

You had stripped Aemond of his tunic but he had stopped you before you could unlace his trousers. He did not want you to think he would demand something of you that you weren't willing to give. But now he was half-mad with the need for both of you. For his uncle, for his lady. He heeded Daemon’s call. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Daemon murmured as he got up from the bed. He wore nothing but a smile and he took Aemond’s sharp face into his hands. 

“Yes,” came the whispered reply. 

“Do you want her?” 

He looked at you with glittering eyes. He could cry for how badly he did. But you were here for Daemon, not him. “How could anyone not?” 

“Taste her, nephew.” 

Your hair was fanned out around your head and shifted between starlit hues. You looked over at him with longing but asked nothing of him. He was here for Daemon, not you. 

“I would taste you, uncle.” He flushed when he whispered it. “Please?” 

The way they kept calling each other uncle and nephew was filthy. It made your cunt throb.

The kiss Daemon gave him was deep and needy. Aemond sucked on his tongue and bit his lip and sank to his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he took Daemon into his mouth with devotion in his eye that was absolute. Daemon dropped his head back and groaned. His fingers roughly grasped Aemond’s hair. Purple eye closed; blue sparkled. 

Without taking your eyes off the couple, you got up from the bed and took your place behind Daemon. His strong body was so familiar to you and as Aemond worshipped his cock, you touched every part of him that you could reach. Oil had been on the edge of the bed and without needing to think, you slicked three fingers and slipped two against his entrance. You kissed the seam between his shoulder and neck and he nodded, eyes closed. 

“Go on,” he demanded of you. Without needing to be told again, you pressed inside of him. He was so warm and tight about your fingers and you buried them to the knuckle. Every time he clenched thanks to Aemond’s ministrations, you smiled against his skin. 

It was impossible to see where Aemond had him in his mouth, but the noises were obscene. Wet and slippery and mingled with moans from both of them, grunts from Daemon and hums from Aemond, you nearly came from the sounds alone. But you held on. 

Daemon’s orgasm swept through him with a warning to his lovers. Aemond swallowed him greedily. He needed barely a moment to catch his breath before he stood up and kissed Daemon deeply. You peeked over his shoulder to watch them. It seemed as if Aemond had grown half a foot since the evening had begun. His confidence turned him to a giant. 

When the kisses, hot and needy and desperate, ended, you gently pulled your fingers from his body and felt eyes watching you. Aemond was so close now, you could see every fleck of starlight in his eye. The depths of it made you curious and you blinked. He blushed again. 

“Aemond,” you whispered. His lips parted as if the air had been knocked from him, as if the world had stopped. 

“Isn’t he a wonder?” Daemon said with satisfaction. Aemond’s gaze darted to him and softened, and he welcomed another kiss greedily. Slender fingers ran up Daemonr’s back and into his hair. You watched with fire in your belly, between your legs. 

When you stepped back towards the bed, Daemon stopped you. He turned and grasped your hand and pulled you to them so you all shared an embrace. The air between you was thick and all you could think of was how your skin was pressed against Aemond’s pretty chest, his strong stomach. Hesitant hands almost traced the curved planes of his muscles, but instead, they found their place on Daemon, familiar Daemon, demanding Daemon. 

“You look so beautiful when you come,” you told him. “I missed the noises you make.” 

He laughed and leaned down and kissed you. You could almost taste Aemond on him. You smiled against his mouth. Your hand traced down his stomach between his legs and found him half hard again. 

“I want you inside me, my prince.” 

“How much do you want me inside you?” 

You took his hand and pressed it against your cunt and he slipped his fingers between your swollen lips. You bit your lip. “I am aching for you.” 

A noise came from the back of his throat. “Bend over the bed. I would like to have you while Aemond has me.” 

You looked up with a smug grin. "You like him having you?"

Daemon gave Aemond an appreciative squeeze between his legs. "You would not believe how well his cock fills me up."

Aemond kissed his neck and sucked until Daemon had lost nearly all thought. He would be marked by morning. 

You took the hand that was not around Aemond's cock and led Daemon back to the bed. “I would look upon your face.” You lay back and spread your legs for him. 

His mouth watered to see you flushed red and spread wide for him, so slick and needy. He nodded and took his cock in hand. It slid through your folds and he pressed the head to grind across your clit and your eyes rolled back. You murmured words of encouragement before shifting your hips up in a silent beg for him to slip inside of you. 

The moment he pressed forward, he felt Aemond line up behind him. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and fingers splayed across his chest. Aemond was dripping with seed and oil and with Daemon's hole already smooth from your ministrations, he was more than ready. The delight of your pressure welcomed him when he moved forward, and Aemond’s hardness stimulated him when he pressed back. 

You moved slowly at first to find their rhythm. Daemon moaned the name of both of his lovers. 

Then you begged to be fucked. Aemond thought of fucking you. Daemon thought of being fucked by both of you. Aemond was the first to change the pace. He slammed into Daemon and felt how his uncle clenched around him. He did it again, and again, and again, until it was a brutal rhythm that had you all panting, your groans mingling, names spilling from lips in a haze of delight and lust. 

“Aemond,” you begged. You were getting close. You reached blindly for his hand and found it on Daemon's back and your fingers laced together. 

Daemon’s hand ground against your clit and he leaned down to bite your nipple and suck your sensitive ear. When his head was pressed against your neck, you caught Aemond’s gaze. You held it when you came with high moans and hoarse shouts. You raked your nails down Daemon’s back who quickly followed. Aemond let himself go on Daemon’s back with Daemon’s hand grasping back against his thigh.

After, Aemond stumbled to fetch water and cloths before collapsing in sated sleepiness onto the bed. You and Daemon, satisfied and floating, cleaned one another and he gently wiped Aemond. Aemond shuffled up the bed and slipped under the covers and with Aemond at his side, he drifted off to sleep. 

“He really is quite beautiful,” you whispered after a time. “Does he always sleep in your bed?” 

Daemon smirked. "When he pleases me."

"And how often is that?"

"Most nights."

"What of the queen?"

"She likes to join us sometimes. Sometimes, she brings Aegon. A pathetic little thing, really, but so obedient." He kissed you and sucked on your lower lip until it made you moan. "You would enjoy him."

You grinned. "There are only so many Targaryens I can handle at once. I think two is my limit." You watched as Daemon's gaze turned to his sleeping nephew. A man grown, he was, but there was something innocent in the peace that had relaxed his scarred face as he slept.

It did not escape your notice how tenderly Daemon looked down at him. It was an expression you had not often seen him wear. Perhaps Aemond was more than just his play-thing. Carefully, so as not to disturb the young prince, you got up and began to pull your clothes back on.

“Where are you going?” Daemon asked somewhat indignantly.

“I thought you might prefer some privacy.” 

“Don't be ridiculous." He pulled back the bedsheets at the other side of Aemond. "Get in. Stay."

"Are you certain?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get in."

"And in the morning?"

"I'm going to watch him fuck you until you cry."

You looked over at Daemon with a raised brow. "Is that so?"

"It certainly is. Now, go to sleep. You will need your strength."

Resting your head on the soft pillow, you looked directly in front of you. Aemond lay sleeping between the two of you, and you could see every line, every eyelash, every freckle on his face. You blushed and buried your head into his hair as you tried to sleep. The thought of what was to come with the dawn kept you awake for a long time, though.

[wihellib]

Lesser Key Shop & Nightmare Pancake Shop

With the update for Belphie Selfie, PrettyBusy took away the old Pancake Shop that they had added back in temporarily because of backlash and added in a Lesser Key Shop.

This is going to be a long post... again.

Lesser Key Shop By-The-Numbers

To start, we will look at some numbers to see how worthwhile this new shop is compared to what we already have.

The Guilty Gem Exchange House has 3 red keys for 198 red gems (66 gems per key), and 30 keys for 1,980 gems (66 gems per key).

The new Lesser Key Shop has 1 key for 66 gems with 30 available purchases, 3 keys for 158 gems (~52 gems per key) with 10 purchases, 30 keys for 1,386 gems (~46 gems per key) with 1 purchase, and 150 keys for 4,950 gems (33 gems per key) with 1 purchase. I assume that the purchases reset at the start of each month, but I don't know for sure.

The Secret Shop, which shows up about once a month, has 1 key for 44 gems with unlimited purchases.

The 150 keys in the Lesser Key Shop is the best deal, however, that is a lot of gems to spend at one time. Most people won't want to do that. The next best deal is still the Secret Shop keys. So, if you only want to purchase between 1 - 149 red keys, then wait for the Secret Shop to show up.

Purchasable Red Keys

Now, I'm going to talk about the packs of red keys that you can buy with real money. If my numbers are not the same as yours, it's due to a difference in currency, but the idea of what I'm talking about will be the same.

If you really need red keys and you're willing to spend money, then it is a better deal to spend the money in the Lesser Key Shop rather than buy gems in the Guilty Gem Exchange and use those to purchase the red keys. It's $60 for a ten-pull in the Lesser Key Shop (note that you can only do this once a month). If you have no red gems, then to get enough gems to purchase 30 red keys from the Secret Shop you'd have to purchase the $120 blue gem pack and you'd have 680 gems remaining after buying the keys. If you had 430 red gems already then you could buy the $60 blue gems pack. But, overall, it is better to buy the red keys directly from the Lesser Key Shop.

WHB Compared to Other Gachas

Next, I want to look at the value of money that you're getting in comparison to some other gachas.

In WHB, it's $20 for 1/3 of a ten-pull, and there's no more expensive packs that you can buy to improve this. In Obey Me, it's $11.45 for 1/3 of a ten-pull, which can improve if you buy the more expensive packs. Also, Obey Me has a lot of good flash deals that WHB doesn't have. In FGO, it's $9.44 for 1/3 of a ten pull, which can improve if you buy the more expensive packs. In Genshin Impact, it's $10.89 for 1/3 of a ten-pull, which can improve if you buy the more expensive packs. Also, in Genshin, if you're fine with logging in consecutively for 30 days, then you can buy the Welkin Moon for $7 and get 18.75 pulls from it, which is a great deal.

Clearly, WHB is by far the worst value-wise. WHB should be $10 for 1/3 of a ten pull. The $20 is just way too expensive. WHB should also have more expensive packs that have a better key-to-dollar ratio.

Now, for the one-time purchase of 10 keys for $5, that's okay. So, if you're really in need of 10 red keys and have $5 lying around, then go for it.

Needless to say, the Lesser Key Shop is not comparable to the old pancake shop red keys in any way, shape, or form. And I still really want them to give us back the pancake shop red keys, even if they decide to increase the number of pancakes needed.

Nightmare Pancake Shop

Despite the backlash, they did not change a single thing about the Nightmare Pancake Shop. The items in the shop are the same, the costs are the same, the number of nightmare pancakes you get for selling S and L characters are the same, everything is the same. I am not happy to say the least. But I already said what I wanted to say in the following linked post, so I won't repeat myself here.

https://www.tumblr.com/wihellib/755045038514421760/pancake-shop-part-2

Finale

The Lesser Key Shop is a poor substitute for the 30 red keys that we could get from the old pancake shop. PrettyBusy has not done anything to improve the new pancake shop and has not responded to criticism regarding the pancake shop in any way. Not even to just say, 'Hey, we're working on it.' I am going to be writing another professional and respectful email to them, explaining my concerns, and hope that others that feel like me do the same.

[prettygrltatum]

A Pretty Necklace for Pretty Lady

Simon ' Ghost' Riley x hyperfem!reader

a/n: I saw this super cute gif(the one at the end, credits to for this!) and I just want to make a story for me and my man :33

when you and simon first met, they both of you were at a gym. you were on the mats, stretching and moving you limbs with some weights in your hands. you were so different from him. always showing up in natural make-up. always in soft colors, wednesday were for pink only. such cute outfits for such a cute girl. meanwhile he was blasting rock and metal songs and wearing all black with his black surgical mask as he benches.

one day, you were passing by when you saw his phone playing Sonne by Rammstein. you tapped his shoulder and asked him about his music. and the rest was history. he took you out on the best and amazing dates, treating you like a queen.

and now with a pink, shiny rock on your finger you couldn't wish for anymore. but yet simon seems to only give you more. as the husband he is, he takes you on his bi-weekly dates. right now, your in the most fanciest restaurant. his hand holding yours. ever since he met you, he's been wearing his mask less often. he still wears it but he's less afraid of what people think when your around him.

"babe, you don't have to take me out every week! I don't want to hurt your pockets." you cooed as you rubbed the veins on his hands. simon chuckled as he raised your long manicured nails, covered in pink charms and jewels, kissing your soft skin. "please doll, I've nothin' better to spend my money on. only you." his chuckles on your hand.

you giggled as you blushed hard. "but I can never do anything for you! you never let me!" you whined playfully at him. it's true. why give so much to me when your presence is already enough? that's what simon thought about every time you tried to please or show him any affection in the terms of gift giving. he's basically made you a trophy wife by accident. making enough money in S.A.S to support you and your feature children.

simon knew you loved every color, but if there's one color you loved the most? wore the most? adored the most? it was pink. your always covered in pink in some way, somehow. Pink heels, pink shirt, pink pants.

pink car, pink ring, pink everything. you were his living barbie doll. you were his everything. so to show you his love, he has your second favorite thing. Jewels. You were always covered in shiny rocks. from earlobes to fingers. even your piercings.

"so, I found somethin' you'd love." simon started off. you chuckled, swaying your head side to side. "again? you give me so many things simmy! I can't keep up!" you laughed. simon smiled, his lip scar lifting up and crinkling. "why not?"

"because! I never know how to pay you back!" you whined. "well, I've got you somethin' you might like!" simon pulls out a red velvet case and pulls it out in front of you. "oh my god-simon..."

he opens it, showing a silver necklace with a beautiful hand-crafted gem shaped into a heart, guarded by the sliver.

you audible gasp as you carefully reached for it. simon could feel your warmth, radiating from your smile and cooes. "oh my god!! I love it!" you squealed. you clamped your necklace around you neck.

simon adored your smile and squeals, loving every single emotion that you're feeling right now. that he does the things he do. to get this reaction. not only does it make you happy and important, but the fuzzy feeling he gets. knowing that his girl, his wife is happy and pleased.

"do you like it?" simon asked, knowing by your reaction that you adored the gem. "of course I do! it's beautiful.." you cooed. you kissed his cheek and rubbed his veiny hand.

"anything for you darling. anything."

[misty--nights]

I'm working on another Dead Boy Detectives fic rather than work on my actual college stuff and it's got me thinking bout Niko and luck. Spoilers for the whole show, of course.

I find it fascinating how Niko keeps stumbling upon all these situations that seem like they have nothing to do with anything, only for her to find the key to whatever problem they encounter next in said random situation. It's a pretty consistent, too, that she seems to walk a line between bad and good luck. Like something bad will happen to her, only for that to be immediately offset by something really good that she found by chance. It's honestly kind of wild at times.

So, when we first meet Niko, she's being possessed by parasites that want to explode her, which doesn't seem very lucky. Except, that somehow the girl who moves across the girl just so happens to be with a couple of ghosts who can save her. Just in the nick of time, too. And at first that doesn't seem like that big of a deal. It's what the boys do, right? It makes sense they saved her just in time because that's what they do, and that's the kind of show this is. But this bad luck / good luck thing keeps happening to her until the end of the show.

In episode 4, she goes with the gang to the lighthouse and goes off on her own to talk to the gift shop lady. She doesn't find what it is that is drowning the people, but she does find information about the Washer Woman and about Lilith, which at the time seems to her and the others like just random information. She then goes to find the red sea glass and gifts it to Edwin on a whim, without knowing what it can do for them. She just finds it, like it's nothing, when later we see Tragic Mick spend so much time by the shore looking for one, and we see how hard it is. And I know they say in the show that only those who really need her can find the Washer Woman, but out of all four of them, Niko doesn't seem to be the one who needs the Washer Woman the most, as we see when Crystal is the one who receives a personalized riddle thing. Which, again, is something that will be super important later and Crystal gains that knowledge thanks to Niko just stumbling upon the key to finding the Washer Woman on accident.

Then, in episode 5, she just happens to stumble upon Jenny's secret admirer and manage to set up a date with them. Now, I know. I know Maxine is actually a stalker that ends up trying to kill Jenny, bad luck. Except nothing really happens to her there? @carpediemma has a post where she says that the floor was most likely dirty because she promised Jenny to clean the floors for a month if the date went wrong and Jenny was sort of banking on it being bad. With Niko's track record with luck, I think that is very possible. Again, bad luck / good luck situation. The date she sets up is ruined because Maxine tries to kill Jenny, but because she made the bet and Jenny fully believed the date wouldn't work, Maxine slips and fall.

Episode 6 might be a bit of a stretch. Technically, it's Crystal's decision to go to Tragic Mick's in search for some way to get rid of David, but it's thanks to Niko that she actually gets the heart gem thingy. So, bad luck there, because the gem takes away all of Crystal's powers. However, and this links back to episode 4 again, it's thanks to her finding the sea glass that eventually Crystal has the way to start discovering her real abilities.

In episode 7 she stays with the Night Nurse while Charles goes to hell and Crystal goes to find David. She starts reading the Night Nurse's book as a way to find something about her dad. Nothing she finds there would be useful for contacting, seeing or bringin him back. However, she does manage to stumble upon the exact passage she needed to buy Edwin and Charles some time after they get back from hell. And yes, maybe you could say that she read the whole book during the time Charles was gone, but I doubt it. We don't know how long exactly it takes Charles to find Edwin and return, but we do know it can't be that long, because the Night Nurse keeps insisting she can't keep the doorway open for long. I think at most he would have been gone 40 minutes, and that's me being generous. It's enough time for Crystal to confront David and come back. In any case, I don't think it's enough for her to carefully read the whole book front to back, no matter how good her reading comprehension is, specially if she was looking for something specific, like something about where her dad ended up in. I think it's more likely that she just found the page with the loophole she would need by chance, read it, filed it in her memory for a "just in case" and continued looking for what she wanted.

Finally, in episode 8, we have the whole Lilith thing that was set up in episode 4. She finds about her and files it as an irrelevant detail, until she hears Tragic Mick talk about Esther's deal and tells Crystal how she can contact Lilith, which ends up saving Crystal and the boys at the final confrontation. Besides that, though, there's the whole bear figure that Tragic Mick gives her and the explosion at Jenny's shop. In the explosion, Esther takes Charles and Edwin (bad), but neither her nor Jenny, the two living people in the shop at the time, are really injured in the commotion (good.)

And then the bear thing. In episode 7, she hears his story and tells him how they found the Washer Woman, and he can't find a piece of red sea glass of his own. Even though he is really desperate for a way to find her. (which, again, it's odd Niko is the one to find the Washer Woman when she wasn't that in need for the Washer Woman's assistance. The whole group was, but it was Niko who found her, but anyways). He gifts her the bear figure as a way to thank her for trying to help and they move on from that. And she accepts it and goes to Esther's place with Crystal, convinced of the protection of the bear, and then dies to save Crystal. Except she doesn't really? She's fine at the end, in some sort of frozen land, with Litty and Kingham, and by the way she holds the bear figure, it's implied that's what sort of saved her, even if she is no longer tied to the mortal plane.

I don't know, there was no real point behind this, just something I've been thinking about for a while. I think if someone has a shot at helping Tragic Mick return to sea, it's her, because she just has the luck to find solutions she wasn't even looking for. And I'm convinced if she ever makes it back to Port Townsend, that's just what she would do. On accident, but still. That's just the kind of character she is to me.

[cinemastyles-backup]

Visiting Home

Summary: Y/N goes home with Harry to spend Christmas with his family, tease each other during dinner, and then put the guest room to a very good use.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, sexual innuendos, fingering at the dinner table, oral (f rec), teasing, pregnancy talk, praising, fluffy, dirty filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

PRINCE HARRY

"I hate flying, Harry." I say picking at my fingers, "I always get so nervous." I look around at the busy airport.

"Hey. Hey. Look at me." Harry cups my cheeks with his hands, "Breathe. Take a deep breathe, love. I'll be with you the whole time, okay."

I take a deep breathe and smile at him, "Okay."

He kisses the top of my head and pulls me into him, holding me as we wait in line, "Just breaths, baby. It'll be over before you know it."

——

We board the plane and take our seats and Harry immediately takes my hand into his. His thumb strokes the back of my hand as he quickly texts his mom that were on the flight.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and shifts to look at me, "Are you excited to see my mom again?" I nod and smile, "I love your mom." He smiles, "She loves you, so does Gem. They're always asking me about you."

"Really?" I smile, "They're such nice people." I bounce my leg as the plane starts to take off.

"So, I was thinking.." he tucks hair behind my ear and leans in. He motions for me to lean in closer to him, so I do.

"We could have some fun while we're visiting home."

I tilt my head, "Oh yeah, for sure! You know the place best, babe."

He shakes his head and smirks, "No, no baby. Fun."

"Oh." I raise my eyebrows, "Oh!" I bite my lip and smile, "Like what?" He smirks, "Well, I thought that maybe you can wear that cute little dress we got you, to dinner one of the nights."

"Okay?" I question, trying to get him to say what he wants to say.

"And maybe.." he draws lines up and down my arm with his finger, "No panties."

I nod slowly, "I like that idea." He leans in and kisses my cheek, "I have some other ones, but.." he lays his head back, a curl falling down over his forehead, "You'll just have to wait and be surprised."

I shake my head and laugh, playing with his fingers for a little while before I fall asleep on his shoulder.

——

"Hey, y/n. Wake up, love." Harry plays with my hair gently, "Baby. We're here."

I slowly blink open my eyes and lift my head from his shoulder, "Did-" I yawn, "Did I sleep the whole time?" I look over at him and he nods, "Yeah."

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry. Why didn't you wake me up?"

He shakes his head, "You weren't stressing out about the plane, plus you just looked so peaceful, I couldn't disturb you." He leans over and puckers his lips. I smile and kiss him, "I'm so excited."

He nods, "Me too. Me too."

We get off the plane and wait for our luggage, "Where is it? I'm starving."

"Mom will have dinner ready by the time we get there. I promise." He pulls me closer and I lean against him, resting my head on his chest. I perk up when I see our bags come around, "There they are."

Harry walks up and grabs the bags for us and we head out to the car.

"Your mom didn't have to get a car for us, we could have.. figured it out." I look over at him and he takes my hand, "It's a very special occasion."

"Oh gosh. Now I'm even more anxious." I bite my lip and he shakes his head, "Don't be. Just relax."

"No, Harry. You have to tell me." I beg.

He sighs and leans over, "I'm going to see how many time I can make you cum at dinner." He whispers lowly and my cheeks go red and I bite my lip, "O-oh."

He pecks my cheek and looks out the window.

——

"Ah! There she is!" Anne says running up to me. She wraps her arms around me, "How are you sweetheart?" I smile and lean back, "I'm good. You look great! How are you?"

She smiles, "Better now that I get to see you guys for a few days!"

"Hello to you too mom" Harry says walking over and setting the bags down. He hugs her and she laughs, "Oh you know I'm just as excited to see my baby boy."

She looks at me and shakes her head slightly with a laugh.

"You already replaced me as the favorite." Harry smiles as he shakes his head.

I smile and Anne walks me inside with her arm around me, "So. How was the flight?" I shrug, "I slept for most of it. I was nervous so I wasn't bothered by it."

"And how is this one treating you?" She nods at Harry with a smile, "Well, I hope"

"Don't worry, mom. I'm taking very good care of her." smirks and winks at me. I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head slightly.

"That's great to hear. Every time I talk to Harry it's always about how much he loves you." Anne smiles and shakes her head, "Hoping one day I can call you my official daughter in law."

I smile and look over at Harry, "I'd be honored to have you as my mother in law, Anne."

She smiles and looks around, "I'm going to go find Gem. She's excited you were coming." She walks away and I walk over to Harry, playfully hitting his arm, "Please don't embarrass me in front of your mother, Harry."

He laughs and plays dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just telling her that I take care of you.." he smirks, "Which I do."

I roll my eyes and look up at him, "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah, yeah." He kisses my head, "I love you. This week will be fun, okay?"

"Family festivities fun or Harry fun?"

He shrugs and smiles as he looks up, "What's up, Gem?"

She walks over and hugs Harry, "Hey." She turns to me, "I'm glad you made it here safe. Hey, y/n." She hugs me and steps back, "He's treating you good, right? If not I'll have to kick his-"

"No worries, no worries. She's well taken care of." Harry smiles and slips a hand into my back pocket, giving my ass a little squeeze.

"Why don't you guys go up and get settled, dinner will be ready soon." Anne yells from the kitchen.

"Okay mom." Harry yells back, "Come on." He grabs my hand and pulls me with him.

He leads me up to the steps to the room we stayed in multiple times before.

"Should I wear the dress or cas-"

Harry spins me around and presses his lips to mine. His hand pushes the door shut and he wraps his arms around me.

"Harry." I whisper, but it doesn't get his attention, "Harry." I try to push him away but he slips a hand in my pants and starts to rub my clit, "Oh fu-"

He covers my mouth with his hand, "You have to be very, very quiet, baby."

I nod and close my eyes as his fingers work in small circles. My moans are muffled by his hand and I dig my fingers into his arm.

"I want to feel you around my cock so bad." He nips my ear and i whimper, "But that'll have to wait for now."

He pulls his hand out of my jeans and unbuttons them, "But I will have a quick little taste if that's alright with you."

I nod and step out of my jeans. He walks me backwards to the bed, his arm around my waist as he sets me down, "Stay quiet."

He dips his head between my legs and my hands slaps against my mouth. I arch my back off the bed as his tongue works between my folds.

I moan and press my hands harder against my mouth.

He grips my hips and pins them down, moaning lowly against me. I drop a hand down to the bed and grip at the blanket.

I bite my lip and my eyes roll back as I fight off moaning. I squeeze my thighs together and grip his hair, "Mm." I bring a hand up to cover my mouth again as my orgasm takes over.

My legs fall limp to the sides as Harry leans back. He pushes his hair back and smirks at me. I shake my head and smile.

He pulls me up and kisses me, my taste still on his lips, "Good girl." He whispers, "Let's see how you do during dinner."

——

I ended up wearing the dress.

The dress with no panties under it.

I'm three glasses of wine deep and working on a fourth.

"Y/N sweetie, how's your mom doing?" Anne asks setting her glass down. I nod and smile, "She's good. Her business is starting to take off. She's getting more clients everyday she's open."

"She does beautiful work, I was looking at her page, she deserves it. She's an amazing artist." Gemma says sipping her drink.

I smile and Harry slips a hand under dress and rests it on my thigh, "Um, yeah. She definitely dedicates a lot of time to it."

"She's very deserving of it, then." Gemma smiles, "I'm going to clear these plates and then we can talk more." She gets up and grabs a few dishes.

"Oh here let me-" I go to stand up but Anne waves me to sit back down, "No, no. You're a guest, please. Sit back down."

I nod and look over at Harry who has a smirk plastered on his face, "Hi."

I bite my lip and shake my head.

He leans in, "You know you want it." He moves closer to me and his hand slides further up. I grip the table and spread my legs slightly.

"That's my girl." He whispers as his fingers slide up and down my slit. I close my eyes and keep my lip between my teeth.

He works his fingers in and out slowly.

I can feel him watching me, getting a rise out of doing this.

"Harry, sweetie." Anne says causing me to jump, "Can you come get this dish off the top shelf for me?"

Harry nods and pulls his hand out, "Of course." I hear Anne walk away and Harry fingers his fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them.

I watch as he slowly pulls them out and smirks, "We're not done."

He gets up and walks into the kitchen and I sit there trying to collect myself.

"So." Gemma says walking in and sitting across from me, "Anything new with you?" I shake my head, "Still hate flying, but we're here."

She laughs, "I get that. Once you do it so many times it just becomes.. a normal thing? I don't know. It definitely gets easier."

"Okay. Dessert!" Anne says walking in. She sets cake down on the table and Harry sets the plates down. "Oh my, that looks so good." I lean forward and set my glass down.

"It does. Doesn't it." Harry looks at me and gives me a wink. I smile slightly and shake my head.

He walks back over and sits down next to me, close like before. His hand goes back to my thigh and his thumb gently brushes against my skin.

Anne hands out the plates of cake, "Thank you." I say, picking up my fork. Anne walks over to give Gemma one and sits down.

Harry slips his hand higher up and I spread my legs again, "So, mom." Harry says, "What are you plans for this week?"

"We'll, I'm definitely taking y/n shopping. I need some time with her. I've missed her dearly." Anne smiles at me.

I smile back and try to keep my composure as Harry circles my clit with his finger, "Sounds.. fun. Im always down for shopping."

"Yeah, it's ridiculous sometimes." He says shaking his head.

"Oh you only say that because you're a man." Gemma teases, "If you were a woman, you know very well you'd be in the shops looking around too."

Harry shrugs and laughs, "Probably." He works his finger back into me and I rest my thumb on my mouth.

"There's no rush to get up in the morning either, whenever everyone gets up is when we'll start the gift giving. I know how it is flying from all the way over there to here." Anne says, "You guys need your rest."

"Yeah, I'll probably turn in early." Harry works another finger in.

"I don't know." I say fighting a smirk, "I feel pretty alright right now. I mean I'm sure it'll hit me later on, though."

"Oh it most definitely will." Gemma says, "That jet lag is a killer."

Harry nods, "Yeah, it's a very rough time." His glances over at me and pulls his hand out.

——

Harry checks his phone and lets out a, very fake, yawn, "I'm going to head up to bed." He kisses my cheek and takes his arm from around my shoulder, "Come up whenever."

He gives his mom a kiss on the cheek and walks towards the steps. I look over my shoulder at him and he gives me a wink.

I smile and look back at Anne, "We're so happy to have you here, y/n."

"I'm happy to be here, Anne." I look at the fire place and finish my wine, "I appreciate that you enjoy me being around."

"Of course, sweetie. Now why don't you get up to bed. We have a big day tomorrow!" She reaches over and pats my shoulder, "You'll always be welcome here. You're the best thing to happen to Harry and I appreciate you loving him the way you do."

"He's the best thing that's happened to me. I really do love him." I smile and stand up. I grab my wine glass and take it out to the kitchen before I head upstairs.

I slowly open the door and step in. The room is dark, but some candles that are lit, "Harry?" I question as I shut the door.

He steps out from what I'm guessing is the bathroom and walk over to me, "About time you came up."

"Yeah, me and your mom were.." he leans down and kisses my neck, "Talking." I breathe out.

"I want you so bad." He mumbles against my neck, "Thinking of how wet you are.." he kisses up my neck and grabs my ass to pull me closer, "I need to feel you."

I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me up and walks over to the bed, "Quiet, baby." He whispers as he kisses down my neck.

He takes the towel off his waist and pushes my dress up, "Fuck." He groans as he pumps his cock a few times. I spread my legs and he positions himself between my knees.

He looks down at me as he slides in, "Harry." I breathe out, "Fuck."

"Shh." He groans leaning down to kiss me. I moan into his mouth and he brings his hand up and lays his palm to my lips.

He starts to thrust faster, biting his lip and tilting his head back. He reaches his other hand up and grips the headboard, "fuck." He curses quietly.

His hair hangs down over his face and his lips part. I lay a hand over his mouth and close my eyes as I can feel myself getting closer to cuming.

I wrap my legs around his waist and arch my back off the bed, moaning into his hand and grabbing the sheets with the other one.

He leans up and grips my hips, "You're so beautiful." He bites his lip and continues thrusting. I smile as I watch him, biting my lip to contain the moans I want to scream out.

He leans down, "I love you."

"I love you." I kiss him and run a hand through his hair, "I love you so much." I whimper and clench around him as he makes me cum a second time, "Fuck."

He kisses down my neck and groans, "Y/N.. fuck.." he pulls out and whimpers into my neck which is so fucking hot.

He leans up after keeping his head on my shoulder for a few minutes, "Hold on." He grabs his towel and gently wipes off my body.

He lays down next to me and pulls the cover over us, "I want to start a family with you."

I turn my head slightly, "Really?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" He asked with a chuckle.

"I'm not, I want to, too. I just- with the band and everything I wasn't sure if now would be a good time, you know?" I roll over to face him, "You really want to?"

He nods and kisses my nose, "I do."

——

You can find part two here

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

[pictureinme]

hcs for taking care of cillian charcters when they’re sick & when you get sick in return?

thank you thank you for this! i decided to put a few more characters for this, i love the concept LOL

patricia 'kitten' braden

» she is the epitome of 'woe is me' when she's sick - pillows upon pillows, tissues everywhere, a hand upon her forehead as she wears her most extravagant nightgown... she has appearances to keep up! » she requests you to dote on her every need - spoon-feeding her soup, putting on her favorite records and lighting the loveliest of candles when the overhead light is just too much to bear » once she recovers, you've fallen just as ill - she apologizes PROFUSELY for making you kiss her constantly, but how could she abstain from you?! » she cooks for you, making sure you're getting every single nutrient to heal fast - picture soups full of veggies, assorted fruit, and, frankly, disgusting smoothies because she read about it in cosmo

neil lewis

» honestly pathetically arrogant, let's be real - swears he's just fine, tries to keep running the store but he sneezed on a copy of 'dr. strangelove' a customer was trying to rent and lucien kicked him out (for everyone's benefit) » once you have him at home, he wears three masks and gloves, spraying everything down with lysol for fear of getting you sick - the only thing he accepts from you is little snacks and the meds he forgot » you somehow get sick despite his best efforts ... even though he did make you throw out all of his various tissues - he immediately goes to webmd with whatever symptoms you present & definitely micromanages your meds schedule » asks marcia and her husband for advice, but only kind they've got is related to their little bundle of joy - they do, however, send him back home with a fuck ton of goodies for you to wake up to from your sickly nap

emma skillpa

» hides her sickness from you as long as possible, to the point of her passing out mid cleaning - luckily you catch her, and she is beyond embarrassed. "oh, please don't worry, i'll be back on my feet in no time!" » you carry her up the stairs, laying her on her bed, and she can't help but swoon at your control of the situation - she tells you exactly the things she needs, sometimes attempting to get out of bed herself to get them. she already has some soup frozen in the ice box, so all you have to do is thaw them » she goes full emma mode when you've fallen ill after taking such good care of her - calls your place of work, telling them you've fallen deathly ill and need a week off (what a gem she is). makes sure you drink every last bit of soup, no ifs or buts » genuinely does not let you leave the bedroom for the entire week, even if you've already recovered by that point - spends time with you, of course, but she has lots to do around the house! maybe being held captive by emma wasn't so bad, hm?

jackson rippner

» cannot STAND being sick, especially with the delays in his job that could occur - however, he very much enjoys you doting on him like his little caretaker. he can't resist playing house » makes sure you attend to his every need, especially while wearing a cute little outfit (nurse costume unnecessary, but not out of the question) - "come on, do a little spin for me, it's the least you can do. i'm a sick man who needs his meds from his oh so sexy wife!" » you falling ill was not in the itinerary, but he loves how cute you look bundled up in the sheets - he pokes fun at you, but still gets you all the stuff you need » if he has to leave for a job in the middle of your sickness, he leaves you with a nest of items you could ever possibly need, as well as an on-call doctor he knows for... reasons - "i'll just be a few states away, but if shit gets serious, don't hesitate to call my burner. yes, i need it for this job, i don't know why. please stop asking so many questions."

jonathan crane

» you can barely tell he's sick for the first few days, but you notice the redness around his nose - when you bring it up, he immediately shoots you down. "darling, if i was sick, i couldn't be doing my job, now could i?" » meanwhile, the next time you see him, he's passed out in his office chair with tissues stuffed in his pocket like a lapel. you bring him back to your place so he can properly rest - he wakes up confused, but silently grateful for the glass of water and medicine you placed on the nightstand next to him » having him stay at your place got you sick pretty fast, and you couldn't believe how he was surviving with the level of congestion you're having - he stays home from work enough to dote on you in his own special way, taking note of your symptoms to properly take care of you » he only goes to the office a few times to bring you back some high doses of medicine you couldn't get over the counter at a cvs, so you could heal as fast as possible - "i know the pills are bigger than normal, but you only have to take them once a day for the rest of the week. don't be such a crybaby."

[bippiti]

bishops k. brekker

an first kaz fic! lmk what y’all think

pairing kaz brekker x healer/ tailor reader

req yup

wc 1.8k

synopsis after a heist goes terribly wrong, you’re the one who comes to kazs aid

heads up typical soc violence, fighting, broken bones, stab wounds, not proofread

dangling off of a high building wasnt kazs ideal way of spending his friday night. but here he was, covered nails digging into the crumbling roof of some rich merchers mansion.

before going on any further i suppose some back tracking is in order.

a while before one of the dregs monitoring the ports overheard a group of stadwatch talking about some rather valuable cargo. precious gems, fine arts, and antique instruments were all set to come in the following month, and we’re to be delivered to a marcher named Stefan Terpstra.

further investigation from inej led to the discovery of an auction being held at terpstras manor. this of course, meant a heist.

kaz already had the blueprints in his office, saints knew where he got it from. but now all you had to do was figure out what roles to play. since they were all too recognizable you were key to this going well.

while you were first and foremost a healer, you were still a relatively skilled tailor, with the proper materials you could alter someone’s face and have it not revert for almost half a day.

the night before kaz called all of you down ti go over the plan again. after you changed inej and jespers face, they would go to the auction posing as a wealthy couple. while the party before the auction is taking place kaz would sneak into the safe, pick the lock, and then him and matthias would collect everything they could carry. nina would be with them to ensure no hold ups took place, and all the while you and wylan would be on the roof scouting out for potential threats.

it was simple enough, you’d had a million harder jobs than this one. so it was kindve funny how almost everything went wrong

before anything even started there were issues with the clothes. the fabric of the dress inej was supposed to wear was really itchy, and when you peeled it away from her skin you saw the rashes and raised red bumps forming. you fixed it easily, but it still had you pushing for time. once their faces were altered and ready, they were off to the manor.

this is when the second problem came up. after everyone went to sleep following kazs rundown, wylan spent the rest of the night working on a few potassium nitrate bombs. (more commonly known as smoke bombs) he kept a fire on low heat as he mixed sugar and the potassium nitrate together. the combining process took hours, but the yield was impressive. 8 bombs total, 4 for inej, 4 for jesper. and there were 8 left on the table as he came up the stairs after hearing the horses set off.

great. since they both were more than capable of holding their own it wasn’t a total disaster, but it was a night wasted sitting at a desk.

once you all arrived things seemed to be going smoothly, jesper floated from person to person, making conversation and laughing along with other party goers. you could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of jealousy on wylans face before he turned away. while jesper was frolicking inej was say at the bar, nursing a drink that looked to be at least 15 kruge overpriced. while going up the stairs you met with kaz and the others, wylan gave them 4 of the bombs, and w kaz gave them the timeframe. 15 minutes, in and out then they should be done. if they weren’t on the roof in time then they were to rendezvous at the neighboring farm a few roads down.

problem 3: it had been almost 15 minutes and there was still no sign or the others. you checked your watch nervously and you heard wylan kicking at the rocks to your left. on your end things had been fine, no other gangs or stadwatch had shown up.

as of on cue, the door burst open and matthias and kaz ran out

if i’m you hand my been concerned the moment mightve even been funny, kaz had what seemed to be his weight in gold adorned around his neck, and a painting almost as wide as you strapped to his back. matthias wasn’t any better, he had to crown crookedly placed on his head and had bracelets up to his elbows, and what looked to be a violin case strapped to his back.

they were telling at you both to jump into the tree, something about a few bodyguards catching them and nina staying behind to fight a few off.

kaz shrugged off what he had on and gave it over to wylan who put in the bag. matthias followed suit and the propped up the bag and took off. scaling down a building wasn’t kazs forte which is why he was supposed to go back through and out the building, but that obviously wasn’t an option. while you were trying to figure out what to do, some men came through the door and went at you.

growing up you learned how to fight, so you were that bad. as you dodged a punch and countered you saw kaz fighting in your peripheral. instead of having his cane be a part of his weakness, he had managed to turn it into one of his strengths. as he swung it at what seemed to be the last man you straightened your back, letting out a breathy laugh. both of you were bruised and by the inhale you just took you had a rib or two broken. the heavy steps of someone coming up the stares broke you out of your trance. as the woman came up the stairs you wanted to crawl up and die. she was huge her biceps were always as thick as your waist and the look on her face showed she wasn’t here to play.

you were never one to back down though so with a deep breath you began to form your hands. because tailors could alter physical appearance and bone structure you had been trying to take it to the next level. while so far it had only worked on the dead you thought it might work. as you brought your hand up her arms began to pulse, changing shape in an almost grotesque way. she began to stride over to you before a heavy crack made her turn around.

kaz wasn’t really sure what you were doing, but he could tell you were going to have to focus in order to do so. as he began to fight the woman her arms began to.. change. they became smaller, larger, then began to shrink onto themselves. she vegan to maker her way to you again. before he could do anything else he felt his feet tip back and he fell. he opened his eyes to see his hands barely holding onto the brick wall. he prayed to saints he didn’t believe in to help him hold on.

you saw kaz plunge and your mind went on autopilot, you felt your power wash over you and you watched her legs began to shrink, growing smaller and smaller until there were none left at all. in the back of your head you heard someone laugh, it was scary, shrill. it took a moment before you realized it was you.

snapping back into reality you left her there, rushing over to kaz who was by the grace of saints still hanging on. you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him forward, sending you both rather harshly to your backs.

you breathed in once more as you shakily stood, kaz did the same, pain evident on his face. during this whole mess his cane had landed up in the dirt below you both. together you began to long journey back to the barrel.

-

the door to the slat burst open as you carried a passed out kaz. it was well into the night, so the was nobody there save for the crows and some dregs. as you hauled him over to a table inej and matthias swiped it off, maps and cards fell onto the floor around you all.

you peeled off his clothes later by later, stopping once you got the his shirt. as you unbuttoned it you signaled for the others to leave, you assumed kaz wouldn’t like them to see their ‘all powerful’ boss in such a position.

as your hands ghosted over his chest you let your manic deep putt of you. you mended the broken ribs, the fractured wrist, and the cuts he had gotten on his back. they were deep, but not enough to make them life threatening. as his skin stitched itself together you began to focus on your own. by the time you were done rearranging your own bruises and scrapes you were far too tired to rid his face and body of the bruises. instead, you patched him up, wrapping bandages around his stomach and back before shrugging his coat on over him.

as you bridal carried him up the stairs you took a moment to appreciate his face. you didn’t let yourself stare very often, kaz was observant and he could pick up the slightest of glances. you looked at the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips. they looked soft, kissable even

before you let yourself get too carried away you opened the door to his room, taking his coat, hanging it, and then taking his gloves and placing them at his bedside.

before you left you filled a bowl with warm water, dipping a towel in you began to rub small circles into his face, ridding it of the dried blood that was starting to form. once the water turned crimson you dumped it out.

kaz awoke the next day, he wasn’t in any more pain than he was used to, but he was still bruised beyond belief. he didn’t remember much other than clinging onto you as you both made your way back to the slat.

he brought his hand up to his head, he needed to figure out what had happened. after finding jesper and figuring out what had occurred, he didn’t know what to do. how was he supposed to thank you? how could he in words, explain how thankful he was it was you that saved him, you that helped him. you. you. stupid you.

y/n l/n.

the only person that had managed to win over dirty hands heart

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Alright, I took a quick nap and Ive decided that I wanna get the UTM reenactment over with as quickly as possible so Im reading chapter 42 and then I'll reward myself with some pain au chocolats and not thinking about this book for the rest of the day and watching the 2002 takarazuka flower troupe production of elisabeth instead. lets go

Chapter 42

here we fucking go with the illyrian wingspan-dicksize correlation, how would Amren even know that isnt she above sex or something. Honestly, I think Cassian would know wayyyyy more about that. on account of all the gay sex hes having i mean. I thought of that joke and then I realized that you could interpret it to mean that he knows about that because hes illyrian and has a dick, but I want to make it very clear that this is a gay sex joke

how come wings are so sensitive that just barely stroking them makes you moan and shudder but you can still fly with them in harsh winds with no issue. My headcanon is that wings arent actually that sensitive, Rhysand and Cassian are just weirdos with a specific kink

This conversation Feyre and Rhys are having about his wings is so weird, its like dirty and yet uncomfortably clinical

oh Rhysand is quicker than death just fucking kill me, im getting so angry again

Syphons are called 'Trichtersteine' ['funnel stones' or 'funnel gems'] in german which is more accurate to how we're actually told they work imo but it sounds pretty lame

Is it just me or is Rhysand being kinda weirdly paranoid rn. I mean granted, they did just get attacked with ash arrows so maybe hes actually doing a good job for once and Im just biased against him

Okay so we finally get some night court fae wearing white, but of course its not for moon symbolism its so they can blend in with the rock of the mountain because this series does nothing but disappoint me

The Hewn City actually sounds really cool, why couldnt this have been the secret city where we spend most of our time, you couldve made it a whole thing about Feyre healing from her trauma UTM through like, exposure therapy or something idk. That wouldve been neat and dramatic, her healing from her UTM trauma in the place that inspired it with the person that inflicted it. I mean, maybe that would be less healthy and even more controversial than Feysand already is but then you could atleast lean into the dark romance of it

I mightve said this already but you knowwww sjm is NOT a painter and consulted ZERO painters because Ive never heard of anyone think about creating art the way feyre does

and Mor is wearing red AGAIN why would you make this a trigger for Feyre just go back and edit it out its not like it matters

God, the description of her outfit is so deeply discomfortingl like it literally is exactly what she wore while she was being drugged assaulted but atleast they left the bodypaint out this time

"[Keir] looked at my face, then my body. I had thought that he would stare and drool greedily but... there was nothing. No emotion. Just ice cold. Shaking internally, - from anger and revulsion - I followed Mor." Im sorry, is she mad that Keir doesnt find her hot????

Theres something uncomfortable about Feyre referring to Rhysand as 'Mor's Lord' especially when we just had a whole paragraph describing her as a proud and empowered queen

"Usually, one Syphon was enough for an Illyrian to to able to steer his urge to kill down the right path." what???

Now shes describing Azriel as dark and beautiful as death and oughhhhhh i knoww im the only who cares about this and its for a pretty stupid reason but I care a lot and it makes me very angry

Feyre referring to a 19 year old Mor as 'barely more than a child' is weirdddddd

of COURSE hes wearing a black tunic for this, I cant believe this is the guy that the fandom has designated the fashion lover when he has two (2) outfits

Feyre describing Rhysand as sooooo powerful and beautiful with a face of nightmares and dreams makes me want to vomit, but more importantly, it makes me yearn to rewatch the 1996 takarazuka star troupe production of Elisabeth with Asaji Saki as Death who unirionically fits all of Feyres descriptors 1000 times better

Not Rhysand using Feyres Cursebreaker title while hes thoroughly humiliating her

Now Feyre is calling him a god, bro youre not gonna be able to have sex if you jack him off this hard hes gonna be all sore

Imagine being a hewn city noble and you all get together because your high lord wants something from you and youre kinda scared because hes the worst, and then you just have to watch him finger some random lady. and you cant leave because then he'll just kill you

I dont like that this is framed as empowering to Feyre, i think its one thing to write a female character who sexualises herself in order to empower herself but the fact that Feyre is doing this at the behest of Rhys automatically renders it non-empowering to me. Like yeah, she obviously consented to this but it wasnt her idea but this was not her idea and this is not something she usually does, the only times shes been sexualized like this is because it was part of some plan that Rhysand came up with

"[Keir] apparently clung to the power. But Rhys was the power." i hate that that sentence made me think of Keir/Rhysand as a ship why am I so goddamn yaoi-brained. And yeah, i know theyre related but according to Rhys himself, he and Mor are only cousins in the most distant sense, so. Man, that would make the IC dynamics so much more fucked up but also so much funnier

Theyre trying so hard to make this hot n sexy but its just so unappealing and dragged out. Granted, sorry if this is TMI, but I did just jerk off so Im all out of horniness for the next little while so maybe I just dont like this because Im not in the mood but idk. theres something so annoying about this, i think its how over-the-top and artificial Rhysands hotness feels, not to mention the fact that he is absolutely not my type

Imagine being Keir rn, just trying to do your job and tell your high lord everything that he needs to know, meanwhile his high lord is sitting in front of him fondling his new sex slave and you just have to keep a straight face. i mean, he sucks ass so i guess he deserves it but man

Presented to you with no further comment: "My breasts became heavy and full, longing, desiring, just like my crotch."

goddamnit, Rhysand just said that he put Feyre on his leash and then Keir made a kinda slutshame-y remark about her clothes and then I thought Rhys was like "maybe I'll put you on a leash too" but it was Feyre who said that. another loss for big gay incest

"He liked this as little as I did" uhhhhh no offense girlie but you actually seem to be having a pretty great time rn

I dont even know what to say about this part where Feyre is like, detaching herself from her thoughts that are calling her a traitor a liar and a whore ?? I think thats whats happening here?? Like, its trying so hard to be sexy but its invoking the imagery of Feyre's (and even Rhysand's) trauma and its just very strange

It took Rhys a fucking eternity to actually touch her pussy

What if Keir developed a voyerism kink because of this. would that be fucked up or what

Its so weird how Feyre thinks about how maybe Rhysand doesnt like sex or being desirable anymore because of amarantha and that certainly sounds like a trauma response he should have but instead it just never matters

"I had been tortured and tormented but my pain was nothing compared to his." YOU DIED

Oh man I cant believe I completely forgot about the absolutely iconic part where Rhysand gets so mad Keir for calling the woman he introduced as a whore a whore that he telepathically breaks his hand about it

what was the point of doing that, Feyre didnt even seem to like it that much

[buggyboba]

Greetings, I hope you had a great weekend. If its okay with you I was wondering if I could please request a Dhawan!Master x reader (or you can choose another master instead if you want.) The reader is at a Halloween party dressed as Christine Daaé (from Phamtom of the Opera.) The reader sees someone dressed as the Phamtom and is almost compelled to follow the person and the reader ends up alone in a locked room with this person and a mirror but by the time the reader works out that it's the master it's too late and the reader is already hypnotised/captured

(Sorry if this is too details, please feel free to ignore or feel free to alter the characters' costumes.)

I hope you have a great day

AN 𓏧 ↳ ○ Hi hello! I need you to understand the speed in which I got out of bed to write this.You just unlocked some Buggy lore~  I also need you to know I am an ex-theater kid, (big surprise there right?) Phantom Of The Opera was the second musical that I latched on to in middle school and high school, my first HUGE special interest, so much so that I consumed every poto media I could and was allowed to growing up in my strict as fuck house. I went to some weird places, some off-broadway musical simply called ‘Phantom’, the sequel Love Never Dies, the novel, and a horror film where Robert Englud, played Erik. I used to be a first soprano, and Carlotta was my dream role, I used to be able to do her part in “Notes/Prima Donna” then I bruised my vocal cords, stopped singing for a while, and yeah as I got older my voice deepened significantly, and I am an alto now…and I am so out of practice.   Anyway my point is, yeah of course I’ll write this! The costume I had in mind was very specific, and absolutely foreshadowing. I also went a little hard, do you guys like the little graphic I made, should I start doing that? 

Trigger warning 𓏧 ↳ ○ hypnosis, but none other than that! ayo this is a sfw drabble! ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The Doctor had brought you back to earth for Halloween; it was one of your favorite holidays, and you were excited. You had the perfect costume picked out, and you had been working on it for weeks, putting together pieces from the Tardis’s wardrobe to get the perfect mix to make the perfect costume. You spent countless hours finding the right references to match exactly what you wanted. You wanted Christine Daaé, but from a specific scene, you wanted the costume from the Hannibal opera, leading into the Phantom of the Opera and Music of the Night. It was a very specific costume, but the ornate gems across the chest, the reds, greens, and golds of the dancer costume in that scene—every detail recreated with love and accuracy, covered by the long-sleeved white almost lacey overrobe. It was perfect, and you looked stunning in it; even if people didn’t know who you were dressed as, you knew, and it was sure to turn heads. You had invited The Doctor and Yaz to come with you, but The Doctor opted to spend it with Yaz, wanting to go to a haunted maze or something. It was fine; you wanted them to have some alone time anyway. 

You got ready, curling your hair, doing your makeup, and making sure everything was fitted properly. When you were ready, The Doctor dropped you off, telling you to be careful and to be back to the drop-off spot by midnight. You laughed and joked, "Okay, mom,” and headed off to the party. The night air was cold; you clung to the lace tighter; perhaps you should have brought a jacket, but the party wasn’t too far of a walk. When you got there, it was an old theater; how fitting. The theater put on an annual Halloween party, and it was apparently a big thing; you hadn’t recalled hearing about it before, but then again, you had been traveling sometime with The Doctor. You slipped in, and the venue was filled with people. You tried to relax some; there were definitely more people here than you were expecting; the music was loud, and there was a smokey haze from a fog machine. It was decorated, but it felt disconnected. There were some scary props and the normal fake cobwebs and fake spiders, but then there were also cheerful cut-out skeletons on some of the wall. You saw where there were drinks and some snack food, but you didn’t want to risk spilling anything on your costume, not with it being so white and how long you spent on it. Your eyes scanned the room; people were dancing and talking, enjoying merryments, and then your eyes fell on him. 

Atop the staircase he stood, he wore a bone-colored skull half mask that covered the top of his face and a heavy crushed red velvet tailcoat and pants with elaborate gold and black embroidery. Over his shoulders a heavy red velvet cape with a dark orange silk lining. You blinked; you knew exactly who he was dressed as—the phantom, but the red death costume from the Masqurade scene. It was stunning, the attention to detail was so fascinating. You tried to push through the crowd, but when you got to the stairs, he was gone. You frowned, trying to ask some of the people around the stairs if they had seen where the man had gone, but no one seemed to know what you were talking about, which was frustrating because that was not an easy-to-miss costume, the reds and oranges hard to ignore, yet no one seemed to recall seeing a person like that. 

You frowned and rejoined the crowd. You caught a glimpse of that red tailcoat again towards the drinks and moved to get over there as quickly as you could, but the man was gone again. Were you seeing things? You couldn’t be, he was stunning—his tanned skin, the clean-cut beard, his dark slicked-back hair, his costume. God, you wanted to meet him; talk about his costume. But he seemed to be as elusive as the opera ghost he was dressed as tonight. You sighed and looked around; your wrist was grabbed from behind, and you felt a heavy presence, but it wasn’t scary. The leather was cold against your wrist as you turned, looking over your shoulder, coming face to face with the man you had been looking for, his dark coffee brown eyes staring into yours, his movements graceful as he waltzed you through the people. 

You opened your mouth to speak, feeling your cheeks burning at being this close to him. “Nice costume,” you mumbled, and then felt like dying of embarrassment. ‘Nice costume, you dumbass. You had so much to comment on, but his hand against your waist and how he was looking at you made it near impossible to think. “I, um… Red Death, Phantom… It’s a good costume...very thought out...authentic.” You said trying to regain your composure. 

“And you are Miss Daaé,” he murmured into your ear as he pulled closer, dancing you closer to the stage. “How fitting… It’s a beautiful costume, accurate. You are stunning tonight, my dear,” he grinned against your ear. He pulled back to look at you again. He sounded familiar; why did he sound familiar? Maybe he just had one of those voices. He seemed to notice your thoughts and tightened his hand on your waist, bringing you back to the present. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite...hard,” he grinned that cheeky grin, but something about his voice, his look, your body started to relax. “You are a very pretty little bird,” he continued. Once he got you close enough, he pulled away, keeping his hand in yours as he pulled you towards the backstage area. You felt you should run, felt you should get away, but your body betrayed you; it was a simple suggestion, ‘Come with me’, one that your body couldn’t help but follow. “I knew you were going to be dressed like this tonight, dressed for the occasion; the red death is fitting, isn’t it?” He asked, his voice soft, whispering like if he spoke louder it would break whatever spell you were under. 

“Why is... how did you know?” You asked, your eyes still locked on his as he guided you effortlessly. He chuckled like he knew something you didn't, like the choice in the red death costume was an inside joke, like it was ironic, but he didn't give an explanation; instead, when he opened his mouth to speak, he bypassed the comment all together. 

“Of course I would know, you worked on it so long, didn’t you?” he said, patting your hand with his other hand, leading you into the cast wings. “You talked about it a lot, with her other human pets.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of The Doctor and her ‘fam’. He was annoyed that she managed to keep you so close, so hidden from him, but he still had his ways. He had fancied you since his Missy days; you were feisty and so unafraid of him–her–him. Still unafraid, you had willingly gone off on your own on Halloween; without The Doctor, it took a lot of work to set this up; every aspect of this was his doing; he did love the long con. “You put so much effort into it, your browser history, my my, you wanted it to be perfect, for who?” He mused, pausing at a greenroom. His hand moved to your cheek, his eyes searching yours. “Me? No, but it is for me now,” he smirked a bit. “Come with me,” he vocalized this time, his eyes burning into yours. You felt your resolve fading faster. Your mind tugged, but it was like he was surrounding you. You clued in as soon as he talked about the doctor; you knew why his voice sounded familiar—the one time you had met him in this regeneration, when he was pretending to be the m16 agent, ‘O’. The Master. 

You couldn’t pull away; you wanted to, you needed to escape, but he was thick in your mind; you hung on his every word, his command. “Don’t worry, pet, I’m not going to hurt you; that would be counterproductive; I need you.” he paused. “To get to her, of course, and you need to be alive for that, don’t you?” he said, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than you. He opened the door, motioning. You walked forward and into the green room. You felt him take your hand again as he led you towards the full-length mirror. 

“I’m sure you will enjoy being my companion for a while; oh, I have such things to show you.” He said, “You will love it, dying stars, burning planets, and I just know you will stay of your own free will once you see what I have in store." He said his hand pressed against the mirror; it opened to reveal the inside of his Tardis. “She doesn’t pay attention to you like I will... She has Yaz, just like she had Clara before; that one was my doing, but god, it was perfect, wasn’t it? In a way, I am saving you from the terrible things that are to come,” he mused, motioning for you to enter the Tardis. You obediently walked in. 

"Oh, we will have so much fun together.” He kissed your cheek before he closed the door and walked over to the console. He had such plans and you were going to be key in some of them; he now needed to keep you away from the Doctor and her meddling until he was sure you were on his side without the need for hypnosis. He knew he could charm you to his side; he could show you he was worth it.

[yuusishi]

summary : celebrating your birthday with Malleus :]

pairings : Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : none

a/n : IT IS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY THEREFORE I HAVE THE RIGHT TO WRITE SOMETHING SELF-INDULGENT

Tick tock , Tick tock

The grandfather clock in Ramshackle’s living room ticked, you sat on the couch fiddling with your phone, constantly checking the time

11:29pm

You sighed impatiently.

You were spending your first birthday here in Twisted Wonderland, your first birthday away from your home world. You wondered if there were any traditions for birthdays in this world apart from parties and gifts, but considering that this world was barely any different from yours, aside from magic, you didn’t get your hopes up nor bother to research.

You scrolled through the posts on your Magicam account’s feed, it wasn’t as tuned to your interests as you would like it to be, but you didn’t even know if what you were interested in even existed here. Cooking videos, life hacks, ASMR, you watched it all for a distraction from boredom.

Suddenly the grandfather clock rang, your eyes darted to the time on your phone

12:00am,

You got ready to make a small celebratory post on your Magicam story when a soft light in the corner of the room caught your attention, a familiar horned figure emerged from the light and gave you a small smile as his feet met the floor

“Malleus!” you greeted happily, Malleus quietly walked up to you and handed over a small box, assuming to be your gift

“Happy birthday, Child of Man. I am quite unfamiliar as to what humans enjoy as gifts for their birthday, but Lilia gave me some guidance, so I hope you enjoy it”.

Malleus had to admit that he was nervous for your reaction, it was his first time giving a human a gift apart from Silver, but it was a joyous occasion, so he held off that nervousness.

You carefully untied the shiny green ribbons that secured the box, Malleus could see sparkles in your eyes when they laid their gaze onto his gift. It was a golden ring with root-like designs that held the precious dark red gem in place. Gently removing the ring from its cushion, you put it on your index finger and admired how it shined under the light.

“So, what do you think of it?” Malleus asked, you gave him a bright smile then got up from the couch to give him a hug “I love it! Usually I wouldn’t be interested in jewelry, but this one that you picked out…I just love it” you laughed a close eyed smile up at Malleus who stared down at you, the only human who has been brave enough to casually embrace him like this.

He carefully put his hands on the small of your back, unsure of what exactly to do, before returning the hug. This scene laid on the fine line between friends and lovers, a line that was blurring every day for both of you as you both slowly became more aware of the feelings both of you held for each other. You both broke the embrace softly and transitioned to a comfortable silence until a knock pierced the air

“Hey! [Name]! We’re here!”

You hurriedly opened the door to be greeted with the first years and a couple of the housewardens, mainly Kalim alongside Jamil, Riddle, and Azul

“Happy birthday, Prefect!” they yelled in unison as they entered, you laughed and thanked them while Malleus smiled at the sight from the sidelines.

As everyone chatted with you and amongst each other, suddenly Malleus calls you to join him in the balcony of the dorm, curious you followed him.

Now you both of you stood in the balcony, arms resting on the wooden ledges as the cool night air pricked your skins.

“So, what’d you call me here for?”

Malleus was a bit hesitant to answer, “Would you believe me if I said that I just wanted to be with you?”

You faltered for a second, a small blush crept on your cheeks, but later you just smiled at him again

“Yeah, I would”

“Do you think it was selfish to bring the celebrant away from the festivities?”

“I know it’s wrong to have favorites, but among all the others you’re the most precious to me, Malleus, so in this case it’s not”

Now it was the prince’s turn to be flustered, he gazed at you as you stared at the bright night sky, swearing he could see all the stars reflected onto your eyes like droplets of white paint on a dark canvas.

His gazed softened and the corners of his lips pulled up into a small smile

‘One day I’ll tell you’ he thought ‘I want to make all your days feel like it’s your birthday, like this birthday’.

“[Name]! It’s time to blow out the candles!” Ace called

You looked back and saw the cake the first years made and smiled happily,

“C’mon Malleus! I’ll make a wish!” you lightly tugged at his hand as you held it

He wordlessly followed you back into the bright living room lights, becoming witness to the celebrations of your first birthday in his world and your first wish.

[malnivia]

My contribution to the challenge! Enjoy

(Warning: some angst, a couple swears)

***

Cleaning the shelves. Dusting the books. Rereading the same story all over, again and again until you are finally determined worthy of another less repetitive task.

"Well, that was the last of me," he murmured and got up from his chair.

He could not handle anymore of this crap. Not today, at least not right now. The headache was getting worse and the more he read, the more letters seemed to be more like blurry lines with no pattern in sight.

It was time for him to run.

He laughed nervously when leaving the room. It was that easy. Because they never even were here to keep an eye out for their tasks getting completed. They never had to – he was a perfect student and apprentice and every other random rank he had been given in order to establish the givers as the good ones. Because he would never leave that dark dusty room to wander off to other endeavors. He was taught not to from a young age.

Worried, but determined, a boy with black hair and light-blue eyes hastened to the key chamber to outrun the reasonable thoughts in his head, telling him to go back.

The creaky door announced itself to all of the library halls. Behind it there were carefully placed artifacts in form of keys, hidden from the eyes of the gullible and common outlanders.

Not from the perfect apprentice they aren't, that's for sure

"Which one should I take?" the guy from before put his thumb on his chin and scratched it in a very asshole-y way, as if he was proving some kind of point to the non-existing audience. The point being "No, you cannot understand me, I am simply more intelligent and literate than all of you and your family combined."

Anyway, his gaze has fallen onto the easiest key there is – the Heroine Key. He was never given that one for reasons, obvious to Ex Libris, yet unknown to him. Well, he never really yearned for it since the experience it offers is truly horrendous. After all, what heroines do most of the time is fall in love and spend time with the fictional princes – who in their right mind would want to do that? But this time it was not about the story rather than the simple concept of walking around, doing nothing – something he could never afford.

Finally, he grabbed the key and turned his head to the closest shelf there. "Snow White" is the first one he saw and with no room for anxious thoughts and doubts, he puts the key in the book and vanishes.

***

Once upon a time... A dude falls from the sky.

He appears then in a castle, surrounded by beautiful and high walls, in a room that looks like princesses' chambers. But the boy doesn't spare a single glance – he is truly fed up with the fairytale settings and, having visited so many stories, has lost the ability to enjoy these fantasy surroundings.

Although something does catch his eye... A weird colorful outline coming from his clothes which were supposed to be dark and stylish.

"What the-" he uttered with a hint of hate and genuine disgust as he looked into the mirror nearby and realised what he was wearing – a beautiful dress with a skirt of a golden color, with navy blue puffy sleeves and some red gems around it. He also notices a red short bow in his hair.

Truly, a horror.

"What does it think it's doing?" he referred to the key which was the creator of this outfit. The keys were rarely talked to and if they were, it was not to ask them for a new fashion choice, that's why the guy was so weirded out.

And when you think the situation couldn't get worse – he wasn't even able to punish it (with words). Taking artifacts off of their keychains was strictly forbidden without supervision to ensure no slip-ups and runaways.

The bottom line being, all the boy could do was complain about this situation under his nose.

After 5 minutes of very inappropriate words, he finally let it go and went on on his endeavors, his voice now muttering the plot of the book like some sort of incastation that would make the real world problems vanish away from his brain:

"Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Snow White. Snow White was very beautiful" he rambled while passing through the corridors. "Her skin was as white as snow, her hair as black as the ebony wood and her lips were as red as a red, red rose."

Who even has the lips of a double red rose? Clearly, the princess applied some lipstick before starting the story. "Now now, that's just cheating" a boy thought while stepping out of the castle. "Really, this is supposed to be medieval with no make-up business in sight. Me, I would prefer if my lips were compared to the actual color they are" he considered while gracefully stepping through the garden.

"Excuse me, your Highness!" a voice echoed behind him and he turned to see a local huntsman getting closer. "Princess, would you like to go on a walk in the forest with me?"

"Ah, the part where I get left behind" princess pondered.

"I would love to accept your proposal, sir" he stated instead since he was taught better than to mess with the story's flow of events.

And so they went on a walk. It wasn't really a two-person walk since Snow White has long forgotten how to relax and talk to people his social status and could only reminisce on the plot carved into his mind. He put his hands behind him and didn't pay attention to the character near him until the man cried:

"Princess, I... I have to tell you something. I believe I forgot the... the task I was given by her Majesty. I am going to have leave you."

"What? Aren't you gonna do some work and show me a place to hide from my stepmother?" the princess was very confused as to why is the story different from what he has read.

"E-excuse me, miss. But, you should stay in the forest. It's not safe at the palace right now." the huntsman mumbled with clearly no idea of a good excuse to leave.

The princess couldn't believe his ears. To think that the least this measly character would do is follow the story exactly and yet he doesn't. Snow White felt pissed and very annoyed.

"Ugh, whatever. I am in no need of my mother's subject who can't even do a casual job of killing me..." he said, whispering the last words to escape the leaving man's attention. He watched him go and after he was left alone, he realised... how quiet it actually was.

Is anyone doing their job around here? The huntsman ain't unaliving little girls and now the birds are not singing and helping out the princess. Well, guess what? Today is the opposite day. So, our heroine is going to seat right here and not move for a single inch.

...

Why would it matter anyway... If he went looking for the dwarves' hut, he would have to clean it – basically, more work for the errand boy.

He sat down by the tree in search of some comfort. The headache could not be erased by the magic of Ex Libris, but at least it wasn't getting worse – more like frozen in time.

The boy now had time to dwell on.

He wanted so much to happen, but nothing did. He was still dusting the books and reorganizing the shelves and rereading the same fricking books over and over again. It felt like no life at all. Every meeting, every training session gave him no enjoyment at all – they all became just one single mess of chores that he had to deal with.

Suddenly the boy felt his eyes getting wet. He couldn't believe it. He quickly got up from sulking (which he apparently was doing) and tried to distract himself to avoid the tears coming. After all, what good of an apprentice who cries whenever he gives in a bit too much to ponder on casualties of the present?

He then started thinking about simpler things. He thought of what the Queen was doing at the moment and the words came up to him as if he had the page opened right in front of him.

"Famed as thy beauty, Majesty,

But behold, a lovely maid I see.

Alas, she is more fair than thee,

Lips as red as a rose,

Hair as black as ebony" he brushed his hair off of his face.

"Skin as white as snow."

He sat there for a silent moment before clapping his eyes twice in a rush of thought.

"What?"

He swiftly returned his locks to the same spot.

"Hair as black as ebony huh," he realised only now when looking at his short hair. It was quite dark, a color of night.

"Skin as white as snow..." he then focused his eyes on the hand that was holding the hair, now leaving it behind. His hands were indeed pretty pale.

Instinctively, he touched his lips, but swiftly rolled his eyes after realising that they were clearly not as red as any red, red rose.

"I suppose we're not so different, now are we?" he said to himself. "And without the appearances, we are still both scullery maids, assigned by our predecessors. And in no power to express our opinion." he nervously laughed. "It's almost as if the only difference is that..."

He started, but didn't have the strength to finish.

What he wanted to say was, that in contrast to him... Snow White has a good ending. The evil Queen dies and even though the girl falls asleep, not only she gets kissed by her true love, but the random dwarves and forest animals make a damn good funeral for her.

He's definitely not asking for true love stuff... But a comfortable coffin does sound nice – as well as the people mourning him. Would someone actually do that for him? The Ex Libris probably don't have the patience and the generosity to arrange a little something of an event. Even if they would, it feels really difficult for the boy to believe in something like that.

...

Suddenly, he hears a sob. It's coming from him.

"Well... At least the old man can't hear me," he thinks before letting the tears free.

***

Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Snow White.

Snow White was very beautiful.

Her skin was as white as snow, her hair as black as the ebony wood and her life – as miserable as the most miserable life could be.