#smoke x mirrors

[modaonlinemagazalari]

https://www.modaonlinemagazalari.com/moda-markas/smoke-x-mirrors/

Smoke X Mirrors

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter four

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 5.5k

It was the first day of high school and you were in a brand new city with absolutely no friends, your heart racing as you walked through the halls to find your first class, finally stepping into the room and finding your way to an empty desk at the back of the room, sitting next to a boy that was leaned back in his chair, looking down at his fingers that picked at his own skin.

He looks up at you as you sit down and a warm, friendly smile blooms on his face. “Hi,” he says quietly and you smile back at him, bringing up your hand to wave shyly. “Hi,” you respond.

“Nervous?” He asks, and all you do is nod. “Me too, but it’ll be okay. Wanna be friends?” You nod again, this time a little bit more enthusiastically. “Great! I’m Matt.”

You grin and make a mental note of the boy across from you, repeating his name in your head, introducing yourself to him as well.

The class starts and you both become quiet, bringing your attention to the teacher at the front of the room.

As the class ends, Matt stands up and hovers over you, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Meet me at lunch?” He asks.

You look up at him, feeling excited at the fact that you’ve already made a friend and he seemed genuinely interested in being friends back. “Okay,” you agree, and he shoots you a smile before leaving.

Your next class was across the school, and you might have stayed back a little too long in your last one, preferring to be the last one out, but now you found yourself walking a little quicker than usual through the halls.

You glanced down at your schedule for a moment to refresh your memory on where you had to go, and that was when your body slammed into another teenager wandering the halls.

“I’m so sorry!” You tell him, catching your balance and reaching out to make sure you’re okay. “I was looking down and didn’t see where I was going and I have no idea where I am and-“

“It’s okay!” You hear him say and you look up to meet his eyes, and you were instantly confused at the boy in front of you. He looked exactly like your new friend, but he was wearing a completely different outfit.

“Matt?” You question, eyebrows furrowing together.

The boy just laughs and shakes his head. “Wrong one. I’m Nick. Matt and I are identical.” He tells you, and you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Oh! That… makes sense. I’m really sorry for running into you,” you tell him, cheeks blooming a bright shade of red.

Nick just shrugs it off and tells you it’s no big deal, and you thank him, apologizing once more before continuing on to your next class.

Finally, as that class ended, it was time for lunch, and as you made it to the cafeteria, you looked around for Matt, finding him sitting next to the boy you now knew as Nick, and someone else’s back was facing you. You walked over towards them and sat next to the mystery boy, waving at Matt as you did so.

“Hi!” You say, and Matt and Nick wave back at you. You turn to introduce yourself to whoever you’re sat next to, and you’re beyond shocked when you’re met with the same face you’ve already met twice that day. “Another one?!” You exclaim, feeling like you’re in the matrix as you look between all three boys.

Matt and Nick laugh at you, while the third one just looks at you like you’re crazy, and that makes you mutter an apology under your breath, turning your attention to your friends across the table. “Am I dreaming right now?”

Matt shakes his head, still giggling slightly. “We’re triplets. Kinda look the same,” he tells you and you take another glance between the three of them.

“Wow that’s really cool, I’ve never met triplets before,” you tell them. You turn your head towards the new boy again and introduce yourself to him as well.

He meets your eyes and scans your face for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. “Chris,” he says simply, then goes back to eating his food.

As you eat your lunch and chat with the boys for the first time, you’re hoping deep down that you guys stay friends for a long time.

-

You hadn’t really spoken to Chris since the incident last night, making for an awkward dinner with him sat across from you, but with the day quickly passing by and the potential for dressing nice and having access to free food, you decide it’s probably time to go and see if the two of you were actually going to spend the night together.

Chris was sat on his big white couch, slouched in his seat as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone, feet perched up on the coffee table in front of him, paying the world around him no mind as he watched a silly little video of a horse playing piano with his lips when you came down the stairs, emerging from Nick’s room after a few hours of you two hanging out, deciding it was time for you to grab a drink.

You lean in the fridge looking for something you’d want, finally deciding on a Dr. Pepper for yourself, then turn around and make your way to the couch, flopping down on it with one leg tucked under you, facing Chris who still has yet to acknowledge your presence.

“Hey,” you say, and he doesn’t look up, just hums at you as a reply. It’s good enough for you to know that he’s listening, so you continue to speak. “So this… date. Are we going?” You ask.

Chris huffs and puts his phone down, looking over at you who sat in your pajamas, clearly nowhere near ready for a date at a nice restaurant. “I mean, I really don’t want to lose out on my money but I also would rather swallow glass than go on a date with you, so I’m not really sure.”

You cock your head at him in annoyance. “I’m not that bad to be around,” you tell him again, hating that you had to convince a man to spend time with you. “It’s not like I want to hang around with you either but you need pictures and I need free food.”

Chris groans and throws his head back on the couch. “All you want me for is my money,” he sighs dramatically.

“Hey, that’s not true. I literally don’t want you at all, money or no money,” you tease, but it’s the truth. “But…” you drawl. “It just so happens that you have money and I think you should spend it on me tonight.”

Chris swings his head around to look at you, still resting on the back of the couch. “Well not to sound rude but you don’t exactly look ready for a date.” He gestures up to your disheveled state.

You gasp at him in fake shock. “What?! You don’t think I could go to a nice restaurant looking like this?”

“Whatever, dude. The reservation is for seven, and it’s four, so you should probably get home and get ready if you want to go,” Chris tells you and you nod at him, standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go home right now! And you better prepare yourself, date night me is a whole new breed of sexy,” you smirk at him. “Might make your little cool guy act crumble. Just make sure you don’t fall in love with me, okay?”

You walk towards the stairs and descend to the front door, sliding your crocs on. “Not a problem,” he yells from his same location, and you laugh before walking out the door and to your car, heading home.

-

You guys had texted and decided to just meet there since he definitely didn’t want to be picked up by a girl and he wanted to limit his time with you as much as he could, so that’s how you found yourself standing outside the restaurant by yourself wearing a little black dress and a cute pair of black heels, a small clutch in your grasp at your side as you waited for Chris to show up.

You’re not waiting long before he pulls up in an uber, letting himself out of the backseat, thanking the driver before he makes his way towards you. He’s in a pair of dress pants with a plain black button up, and you can’t help but admire his outfit as he walks up to you, gesturing for you to head inside in front of him. So, you turn and enter the restaurant, Chris holding the door open for you like a gentleman, then you both make your way to the host stand, having somebody lead you to your booth that was tucked away in the back corner of the restaurant.

You guys both settled in and got comfortable before looking up at each other, not saying anything, not even shooting a small smile at one another, both of you just grabbing the menu, breaking eye contact, looking at the appetizers on the menu.

It’s silent for a while, neither of you wanting to speak first, until your waiter comes up and introduces himself. “Hey guys! I’m Theo, I’m going to be taking care of you guys today. How are you guys doing?”

You smile up at him, the tall, handsome boy standing in front of you making you feel slightly nervous. “Aw, Theo, I love that name,” you coo. “We’re doing good, yourself?”

Theo grins back at you, placing a glass of water in front of you. “I’m great, thanks for asking. Date night tonight?”

You laugh and shake your head, leaning forward a bit on your elbows that rested on the table. “No, not exactly. Long story.”

Theo chuckles and nods, pulling out his notepad and a pen. “How long you guys been together?” He asks you both, pointing his pen back and forth at you and Chris.

Your eyes widen at the question, not expecting it at all. “Oh! We’re not-“

Chris clears his throat and slaps a hand on the table, signaling his annoyance. “Can we order drinks?” He asks, cutting you off mid sentence. It wasn’t super unlike him to interrupt you while you spoke, but the fact that he did it in such an aggressive way made you more angry than usual.

“Oh yeah, sorry, man, just trying to make conversation,” Theo chuckles awkwardly. “So, uh, what can I get you guys?”

You mouth a quick ‘sorry’ Theo’s way before you tell him what you wanted to drink, followed up by Chris placing his order, prompting him to walk away to put your guys’ order in.

“Chris, what the fuck was that?” You snap at him, voice quiet but still harsh, eyes sending daggers across the table.

Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Seriously? He was talking way too much, I want to eat and I want to leave, I don’t want to sit here listening to you chit-chat with our fucking waiter forever.”

You shake your head in disbelief, letting out an annoyed huff of air. “You’re insufferable, Chris. God forbid you chill the fuck out for one night.”

Chris stays silent but still glares across the table at you, though you don’t meet his eyes. His mind is reeling, not even fully understanding what made him so mad in the moment. You were always a talkative person, always kind to customer service workers even when they didn’t deserve that, and Chris knew that, so why did he get so angry at the two of you talking?

He’s not able to process the thought before Theo is coming back and placing your drinks in front of you both. “Here you go,” he says to Chris, setting the drink down. “And the wine for the pretty lady.”

You slide the glass closer to you after it’s set down, beaming up at Theo. “Thanks so much.”

Theo just nods back with a small grin. “No problem, I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

You look over at Chris who’s already looking at you, lips pulled into a tight line. “Pretty lady?” He repeats, clearly unhappy.

You frown, looking down at yourself before back up at Chris. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” You ask him, a teasing lilt in your voice. “I got all dressed up for… well, for you.”

Chris would never admit this out loud, but his heart skipped a beat at your words. It was no surprise you looked good, just like you had warned him, but the way you said you got dressed for him specifically made him grateful he wasn’t standing up, afraid his knees might go weak on him.

“Didn’t say you weren’t, just saying this guy’s a little weird,” Chris mumbles, breaking eye contact to look down at the menu he’s barely looked over.

You leaned forward a bit, slightly reminiscent of the first time you guys took photos together, cleavage peeking out sexily. “You jealous?” You ask him, tilting your head. “Jealous that someone that just met me has got the confidence to talk to me like that when you’ve known me for seven years and can’t even tell me you think I look pretty?”

Chris’s mouth falls open, trying to force words to come out, but none do. He’s just sat there looking like a fish out of water as he racks his brain for something to spit out at you.

“That’s what I fucking thought, tough guy. Watch your mouth.” You grab your glass of wine and take a large sip, sitting back in your seat.

There’s silence for a few minutes, both of you looking over the menus without speaking with one another, until Chris breaks the silence, but he’s so quiet that you don’t quite catch what he says, and you look over at him and ask him to repeat himself, feeling like your ears must be betraying you when you finally make out what he says.

“I said… I do think you look pretty.”

It almost sounds like Chris has to force himself to say the words, like they’re so unnatural falling from his lips, even after the kind words he said to you yesterday.

You stare at him, unable to think of a response. You feel like your mind is playing tricks on you, but when you see the look in Chris’s eyes soften, you know you heard him right. “Oh…” you mutter, unsure of what else to say. “I, uh… thank you.”

Chris nods his head and looks back down at the menu, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole, but unfortunately he was forced to stay seated across from you, feeling the awkward tension start to build.

You clear your throat and place the menu down on the table after a few moments of unbearable silence, wanting nothing more than to change the conversation back to something lighthearted and surface level. “I’m surprised you’re drinking,” you tell him, gesturing to the drink in front of him.

Chris scoffs. “Yeah, I’m gonna need it if I have to spend my night with you. You got wine, what’s the difference?” He quickly, and thankfully, slips right back into his normal attitude.

You shrug and go back to looking at the menu. “Just never really see you drink, it’s weird.”

He hums, disinterested in the conversation transpiring. “What are you thinking of ordering?” He asks you.

You think for a moment, eyes still flitting over the menu. “I don’t know…” you start. “Maybe… a steak? Surf and turf?”

Chris’s eyes widen and he picks his head up to look at you, meeting your eyes as you smile up at him shyly. “Just because we’re at a nice restaurant doesn’t mean you have to get the most expensive thing on the menu,” he says worriedly.

You wave your hand at him dismissively, pursing your lips. “It’s not the most expensive thing on there, it’s only like.. sixty six dollars! There’s an entree on here that’s seventy dollars, so… it’s fine, right?”

Chris shakes his head in disbelief. “This might be why you don’t have a boyfriend, you’re too expensive.”

You huff and pout at him, shoulders dropping slightly. “Boys don’t even know I’m expensive, I can’t even get a date. If I could secure a date I’d be happy with a fucking salad.”

“Then why not get a salad now?!” Chris exclaims.

You just smile and point your freshly manicured nail towards him. “Because you told me I’m super sexy and I don’t need to worry about my weight, so I’m indulging and getting something I know I’ll love,” you smirk as you use his words against him, knowing there wasn’t much he could say to that.

“Hold on, I don’t think I called you super sexy, I just said you looked good in that dress.” Chris retorted, holding a finger up at you as if telling you to be quiet.

“You said I looked really good and my body is incredible, so you might as well have called me sexy and fucked me on the bathroom floor,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows in a sassy manner.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Chris places his elbows on the table and leans in, tilting his head as his eyes bore into your own. “You want me to praise you and fuck you any chance I get?”

Your throat dries up at his words, and you’re trying to think of how to respond, trying to just get the word ‘no’ to fall from your lips, but you’re too in shock at the vulgarity of his words to even come up with a rebuttal.

Thankfully the waiter comes back in that moment, same wide smile plastered on his face. “Are you guys ready to order?” He asks, and you nod happily, ordering the second most expensive meal on the menu despite Chris’s complaints. He places his order as well and Theo grabs your menus from you, telling you both he’ll get your orders put in and have them out as soon as possible. But as he turns to leave, he sends a wink your way, causing your ears to heat up almost instantly.

“Dude,” Chris laughs, annoyed. “Is this guy fucking serious?”

You whip your head back to him, confused. “What?” You ask him.

“He’s winking at you,” Chris responds in an obvious tone. “While we’re on a date. He seriously does not understand bro code at all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Chris, we’re not actually on a date. I told him that.”

“We’re at a nice restaurant spending hundreds of dollars on food and drinks, both of us are dressed up and we’re the only two people here, to him, it should look like a date. How the fuck does he have the balls to wink at somebody else’s girl while he’s at work? I should get his ass fired.” Chris rambles, eyes flitting all over the place as he speaks, not wanting to look at your reaction to his words.

It’s a good thing he’s not looking at you, because the smirk that slowly arises on your face would probably send him into a rage if he saw it. “Chris…” you start, reaching over to brush your fingers along his hand that rested along the table. “Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

That gets Chris’s attention, turning his head back to you and meeting your eyes. “Jealousy? Jealous of what, someone finally giving your desperate ass attention?”

You tilt your head, noticing he still hasn’t moved his hand away, despite his words. “Jealous that he’s man enough to actually do it.”

Chris’s eyes narrow, your words like a punch to the gut, though he refused to let you see how what you said made him feel. He rips his hands away from you and places them on his lap. “I could have any woman I want, including you, you’re just mad that I don’t actually want you, just like all the other guys you try to fuck with.”

You shake your head and sit back in your seat, breaking eye contact with him and looking around the restaurant, knowing that you’d never be able to break Chris, even if he did have feelings for you. It’s not like it mattered, you just wanted to mess with him anyway. It’s not like you wanted Chris, right?

Right?

Chris takes a small sip of his mixed drink, eyes peering over the rim of the glass to see you looking around the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with him as much as you could.

“I always knew you had a crush on me.”

His words rip you from your nonchalant facade, head whipping back to lock eyes with the boy across the table once more.

“Excuse me?” You scoff back.

“You heard me. You have a crush on me, don’t you?” Chris smirks.

“Honey, if I have a crush on anyone, it’s Matt. He’s way hotter than you.” You tell him confidently.

Chris laughs. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t be so cozied up to someone you had a crush on. You’d act like you didn’t have a crush on them, like you do with me.”

You look at him incredulously, like what he was saying was absolute nonsense. “You mean like how you treat me?”

Chris realizes his analogy has backfired and he instantly gets defensive, cringing at the realization. “No, definitely not. I actually think you’re annoying as fuck and I wish you didn’t practically live at my house, but unfortunately my brothers think you’re enjoyable to be around. I just refuse to pretend like I actually like you, therefore I show my true feelings.”

You pause before speaking, wanting to see if you could break Chris’s shell a little bit since you did already have to spend the night with him. You might as well try to have a real conversation for once.

“Chris… why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you to make you treat me the way that you do?” You ask him carefully, your tone switching from a teasing one to more serious.

Chris is definitely taken aback by your question, not even sure he has an answer for it. He kind of expected the two of you to barely talk, eat your food and go home, but now that you were trying to initiate a serious conversation, he felt like he was at a loss for words.

“Hate is a strong word,” he starts, voice quieter than it was before. “I don’t.. really know. We’ve just always been like that and I guess I never thought to make an effort to change our relationship. You give me shit, I give you shit, you hang around my brothers like a parasite, I’m forced to be around you. I guess I don’t really know how it started, or at least… I don’t want to talk about it.”

You hum at his words, nodding your head slightly. “Is it something I did? Did I ever hurt you?” You ask him, nervous for the answer. “I’m sorry if I ever did something that made you feel this way about me. I never want to think of myself as a mean person and I love your family and I love your brothers and deep inside of me there’s a weird caring for you, too, and… I’m just sorry if all of this is my fault.”

Chris watches you intently as you speak, feeling a pang in his chest as your words rang through his ears. Having a serious conversation was not something the two of you did, so to have two meaningful conversations in two days felt like he was in an alternate universe, not really sure how to feel or how to react.

He breaks eye contact for a moment to look down at his lap where his hands still rested, fingers interlocked with each other, taking a deep breath before he looked back up and met your eyes again. “It’s nothing you did,” he promises. “I just… don’t think we were meant to be friends the way you’re meant to be friends with my brothers.”

You nod at him but stay silent, afraid your voice would betray you if you tried to speak.

Luckily, your food got placed in front of you and you both thanked the waiter before digging in.

There wasn’t a lot of conversation shared while you both ate, just a couple of comments made about the food here and there, and that continued on until both of your plates were empty and your glasses only had ice left in them. “That was so good,” you groan, leaning back into the booth and placing your hands on your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve had a better steak in my life, Chris, I’m so serious.”

Chris laughs at you, taking in the way you almost melted into your side of the booth. “Yeah, mine was pretty good, too. I can’t believe we both finished our food.” He says, a small part of him impressed with how much you were able to eat. He’s never really paid attention before, but you could seriously put down some food if you were feeling it.

“Oh, I can. I wasn’t wasting a single drop of anything,” you laugh, looking over at him while still leaning back into your chair.

Theo comes back over and starts cleaning your plates out of the way, asking you both how you enjoyed the food. “Any desserts tonight?” He asks you, smiling wide.

You look at Chris and then back at him, shaking your head. “I think we’re okay for tonight, thank you so much though.”

He nods and places the check on the table, reminding you guys there’s no rush before he heads off.

Chris immediately grabs the check and flips the book open, nearly choking at the sight of the total, to which you giggle a bit, knowing you weren’t going to cough up a single penny.

You knew Chris would never make you pay even for your portion, whether it was a fake date or not, he just wasn’t raised like that and was always going to pay for the woman he took out, even if it wasn’t ideal to spend over two hundred dollars on a dinner with someone he wasn’t even dating.

“Thanks, Chris,” you tell him sincerely, kicking him lightly under the table. He just grumbles a response and puts his card in the little booklet, setting it back down on the table.

The waiter comes back and grabs the booklet, telling you guys he’ll be right back, and he’s not gone long before he comes back, setting it back down in front of Chris. “Thanks so much guys, I hope you enjoyed your dinner and I’ll see you guys soon.” He turns his attention to you, smiling shyly. “This is for you.” He slides over a small piece of paper on the table, face down.

Chris looks at the piece of paper, then up at you, then up at Theo, all with a straight face. He reaches over and grabs the piece of paper, still holding it face down. “Theo,” he starts, and the waiter turns his head to him, clearly nervous. “If I turn this piece of paper over and there’s a fucking phone number on here, I am going to do irreversible damage to your body. I promise you, you will never be able to have children if that’s what’s on here. So should I turn it over, or would you like to take it back?”

Your eyes widen in shock at how Chris spoke to Theo, never hearing him get quite as aggressive as this before, and you’ve made him angry for the last seven years. “Chris!” You scold him, trying to reach over the table for his hand, but he just pulls it away.

Theo gulps, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “Uh…” he starts, holding his hand out for the paper. “I’ll just, uh.. I’ll take it back, that’s fine.”

Chris hands it back to him and Theo wishes you both a good night before running to the back of the restaurant, as far away as he could.

“Christopher,” you spit, reaching over to smack him on the head. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, sliding out of the booth. “Let’s go.”

You watch him start to walk away and let out a groan, getting up to follow after him. “Hey!” You yell once you’re outside, heels clacking loudly as you run after him. You finally catch up to him by your car and you grab his shoulder, shoving him into your passenger door harshly. “What the fuck, Chris?!”

Chris keeps his gaze on the ground, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Why did you do that? He was clearly into me and he was hot! We weren’t even on a real date and you ruined my chances of maybe getting one. Now even if I go back in there he’s going to be too terrified to talk to me out of fear of getting castrated! Why on earth would you do something like that, Chris?” Your voice was angry, loud, at first, but towards the end it faded off into your normal volume, more disappointed than anything.

Chris just shrugged his shoulders, not sure what to say. “He was… he was looking at you like you were a piece of meat. It was gross, I… he clearly only wants you for sex.”

You scoff and run your fingers through your hair, still annoyed. “I like sex, Chris. I’m an adult, don’t you think that’s my choice to make? Maybe I just wanted to have sex with him, too.”

Chris finally looks up and meets your eyes, looking like a little kid getting scolded. “Yeah, well, he’s not good enough for you. End of story.”

That was it. Those were the words that finally set you off. “You don’t even treat me well! You’re always mean to me and hate being around me! How the fuck would you know what’s good for me?! You probably couldn’t even tell me my birthday, my favorite color, you probably couldn’t even tell me my eye color if I closed my eyes for two fucking seconds, so tell me, Chris. How the fuck do you know what’s good for me and what isn’t?”

Chris reaches his hands up to place them both on his head, body sizzling with anger and about to explode. “Because, I-!” He stops himself and drops his hands back to his sides, both clenched into fists. “I just do, okay? Can we leave?”

You laugh, literally laugh in his face. “Fuck no, not until you give me a real reason why you did that.”

You’re still standing relatively close to Chris, close enough to where he can’t really move without bumping into you, so it’s not really a surprise when he reaches out to plant a hand on your waist gently, pushing you to the side as he takes a step away, starting to walk towards the sidewalk. “Chris?” You call, and he ignores you, continuing to walk. You huff in annoyance and walk around towards the driver’s side, getting in and starting your car. You almost want to pick him up and take him home, but you decide against it, since Chris clearly knows everything. You figure you’ll let him walk however long it will take him to get home, and you start the drive towards your own apartment, wondering what the hell even happened tonight.

You think back to the date, the things you talked about and what he had said, until you land on the one comment he had made. ‘You want me to praise you and fuck you any chance I get?’

The words sent a chill down your spine as you revisited them, wondering why he had made you so nervous in that moment. It wasn’t something you had ever thought about, but now that the idea was planted, you couldn’t help but let the image play out in your head. Him ripping the dress off of you, telling you how beautiful you looked, hands running up and down your bare body, lips tracing over your skin. It had your ears burning and your thighs tense, imagining him lowering you to the bathroom floor, kicking the door shut behind him as his fingers trailed towards where you needed him the most, one hand covering your mouth and the other dipping inside of you.

You parked outside your apartment and shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. “What the fuck?” You said aloud. You sat there for a couple more moments, collecting yourself before you realized something that made you gasp quietly to yourself.

Chris didn’t even take any pictures.

-

a/n: huge thanks to @lucyluvschriss and @mattsbrat for some inspo on this chapter, the original date I had written was just them eating, grabbing ice cream and arguing and I think this is sooo much better and I wouldn’t have come up with the ideas without them. I’m so glad so many people are enjoying this au, i’m having a blast writing it! next part is probably where things are gonna start getting interesting 👀

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[muffinsin]

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 1: the aftermath

The prologue can be found here. It’s recommended you read it before starting this story

[TW’s for this story: toxic relationships, manipulation, emotional and physical abuse, sexual abuse and assault, non-con elements, self harm, forced self harm, possessive behavior, stalking, slapping, cutting, degradation and shaming, drugging, kidnapping, torture, genital torture, violence, choking, G!P on one occasion, sex as an unhealthy coping method, self harm as an unhealthy coping method, suicidal thoughts]

[TW’s for this chapter: stalking, light violence]

Masterlists Smoke and Mirrors

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Let’s get into it🙌

Donna’s panting, her whole body trembling with desire. A self-satisfied smirk is set on her unpainted lips, her dark eye grazing over the beautiful sight by her side.

Daniela Dimitrescu, marked as hers.

She does not yet wholly belong to her, has not yet been wholly claimed and taken home as a victor’s prize should be. Distaste bubbles up in her mouth at the thought, a vile bile that reminds her her work is not yet done. She plans on correcting that.

She allows her pitch black eye to linger on the woman’s form.

Naked as a babe, panting, her beautiful, golden eyes closed. Her doll lays still. The only indication she is passed out rather than dead is her beating heart and the small breaths and exhales coming from her. With her upper back facing upwards and her stomach pressed into the bed, Donna is granted the beautiful sight of her work.

A claim, a mark-her mark, the one of her house, burned into the woman’s back. The Beneviento crest, burned into the petite and sensitive flesh by flaming hot pollen. She held her doll so tightly as it was applied, brought her enough pleasure to overshadow the searing pain. She can’t afford to lose her doll just yet, to inflict too much pain and scare her little Daniela off. Yet, she is not wholly hers. Yet, she can turn her back and run away. Run, always, never hide. Donna’s dark eye will always find her.

She traces lightly over the mark, her touch so feather light the auburn-haired woman doesn’t even stir.

She looks beautiful like this, Donna thinks. Naked, draped against the pale sheets, her hair a beautiful mess around her and against her shoulders and back. Her face, resting, her full cheeks adorably pink and wet. Had she cried? Donna didn’t notice, but now wishes she had.

She cups the woman’s sleeping face, admiring the dried streaks of salty tears. Her core throbs at the sight.

A wicked, twisted love burns in her. Her beautiful doll. When she wakes, will her eyes be glossy, teary? Her cute, girly eyelashes wet and thick? She leans forth, allowing herself a taste.

Daniela merely stirs tiredly, unaware of what is happening around her. Her skin is soft, as Donna has found out, her tears salty. Donna’s body aches at the taste. The taste of innocence, of pain and pleasure.

Yes, Daniela is perfect for her. And she will make such a perfect doll, too.

She moves from her comfortable position on the bed, her ghostly touches traversing from Daniela’s cheeks to her hair, her head, her shoulders, her branded backside, to the round swell of her ass.

Again, the sleeping woman stirs as she is touched.

Donna’s touches, while ghostly when she wants them to be, hold power now. She gropes without shame. Ah, no, not groping. Inspecting. Inspecting her doll. She hums, pleased. Daniela’s skin is soft and untouched, no scars or bruises visible on her. Skin, pale, like porcelain. Her ass, round and thick, but never too thick, perfect.

Phantom hands move at Donna’s side, ghostly white and featherlight, but forceful, when they grip at the sleeping woman.

Again, Daniela only stirs, as if a part of her attempted to wake up, but she wasn’t quite granted to. After all, her new lover is not quite done yet, and is not yet allowing her doll to return to the present.

She sends the Dimitrescu a look, conjuring up sweet images and moments for the woman to dream about. When Daniela quietens down again, the phantom hands move. One at each ankle, another pair at her thick thighs. They pull, spread her for the doll maker, who elegantly steps forwards and kneels between the woman’s spread legs. From this angle, she at last has a perfect view of the very same flowery pussy she sunk her fingers into just a little while ago.

She trails her fingertips against it again, the very tips light white from her use of the phantom hands. Daniela sighs, as though dreamily, in her sleep.

Her juicy pussy lips are pulled aside, revealing her insides to the Lord. Donna bites lazily at her bruised lower lip. She revels in the sight, Daniela’s pussy and insides a cute girlish pink, her spongy insides rubbed and fucked raw by skilled fingers before. She allows a finger to push into the wet heat and chuckles dryly when the sleeping woman stirs again, whimpering cutely even as she is unconscious.

She turns and twists it, adding a second finger as she steadily screws them into the younger woman. Soon, her precious composure is lost and she explores greedily, rubbing spongy walls.

Even on the inside, Daniela is soft. A twisted want rises within her, demanding her to bruise the soft inner walls and turn girlish pink to bloody red. She resists, for now. Perhaps at another time, another opportunity will rise. She cannot risk scaring her doll away, not while she is still not wholly hers, hidden deep within the Beneviento mansion like the priceless gem she is.

She screws her fingers into the little hole harder, faster. For a moment, her grip on her doll slips, and Daniela’s lips part and a loud whimper and moan tumble out.

Immediately, Donna’s influence washes over her again, gripping like vines, holding her down as if with leashes and chains.

And still, it was a fatal slip up, with consequences to follow.

Donna tenses as she makes out the buzzing flies in the distance, quickly drawing closer and closer.

An older sister, annoyingly worried about the odd, pained moan and whimper coming from her little sister’s room. Donna scowls in frustration. She doesn’t pull her finger from Daniela, only turns her head before the door opens and a woman wearing her doll’s signature black dress steps into the room.

Bela, if she remembers correctly, her blonde hair wild as though she was curled up somewhere and only now got up to check on the noise. The woman scowls, immediately adverts her eyes to the floor as she finds her sister’s completely naked form on the bed. And, nothing and nobody else.

Blocking her sister’s body from her vision with her hand, Bela glances around the seemingly empty room, oblivious to Donna’s dark eye burning into her with fury. Of course, she knows, her doll’s sisters must be one of the first obstacles to be removed. In time, only. They will not be in her way, and will be removed should they prove any more annoying.

“Dani?”, she whispers into the quiet room, suspicious.

Donna scowls as the blonde steps closer to the bed. She’s so very close to her now, would undoubtedly feel her if she was to bump into her, despite the thick pollen in the room manipulating the reality her eyes can perceive.

She’s forced to move, if only to avoid being detected, and slips her finger from Daniela’s wet pussy. Immediately, Bela’s head automatically jerks to it at the noise, and immediately turns away again at the unwelcome sight. Donna pauses. Clearly, this sister is not entirely clueless, despite her influence. As if the blonde knew something was up, something wasn’t right, her baby sister might not be as fine as it seems.

When the woman moves closer to the bed again, her summoned sickle raised, Donna is forced to back up yet again. She draws away undetected, resisting the urge to kill Bela on the spot. She knows, Daniela is not wholly hers yet. She would be certain to lose her should she kill her precious older sister.

Alas, she only stares at the younger woman, her dark eye full of hatred and annoyance, which Bela is oblivious to. Still, she shivers, oblivious to Donna’s presence but certainly aware that something isn’t quite right.

The doll maker pulls away the phantom hands, and again Bela’s head jerks to where they were just moments ago. Donna scowls as the woman gasps and leans down, gently cupping Daniela’s bruised ankle.

Upon seeing the bruises at her other ankle and thighs, too, she snarls and looks around the room, oblivious to where the intruder could be. With her sickle raised, she circles the bed like a predator protecting its young. She looks horrified at the sight of the burn at her sister’s back. Still, she wisely checks the room first, ripping open closets and checking the lock of windows.

Donna almost pities the woman, if she didn’t feel such hatred and possessiveness, too. It’s clear as day Bela is a direct competitor, someone so clearly set on protecting her sister from the unknown evil that is Donna.

She considers ending her, then, to knock her out and push her out the window, disallow the forming of her flies and watch as poor Bela falls from the highest tower where Daniela’s room is, her pretty head splattered on the cement below or her petite waist impaled by a spike of the towers.

Daniela stirs, whimpers in her sleep as though Donna had accidentally let the thought slip into her dreams.

Small, silent tears run down her cheeks even as she sleeps, mourning the loss of her sister she felt was far too real. Donna scowls angrily. No, she cannot yet take her sisters from her doll. She is not yet wholly hers, still held in the loving clutches of her family, protected in the castle as though they knew to shield the naïve woman from all danger.

Of course, Bela is by her side immediately, cupping wet cheeks Donna had licked only a little bit ago. She seems none the wiser, feeling only her sister’s tears. The dollmaker watches as the blonde lovingly pulls up the blankets, covering Daniela’s shivering body.

“Bela…”, she whimpers in her sleep, much to Donna’s dismay. Immediately, she tightens her grip on her doll, which leads to her lips sealing again and only a few tears to run past her cheeks again. No matter how hard she tries, no conjured dream of hers can calm her doll, her little head full of the delusion of her sister’s death.

“Dani? I’m here, sweetheart”, her sister tries to calm her, desperately. Donna’s grip on her allow no words to come through, and as such only more tears follow. The limp, sleeping woman is pulled towards Bela, her head caressed in an attempt to calm her.

“I’m here, little one, Dani, wake up!”, she pleads. Donna’s eye flashes angrily as more tears fall and lead to Bela shaking her sister. She starts a fight she’s entirely unaware of, battling Donna who is gripping and lashing harder to keep Daniela asleep. She will not have her doll tell her sister of her presence, of being marked by Donna. While she can convince delusional little Daniela that it was an act of love, her wiser, older sister will know better. She cannot know. She cannot be disposed of.

Just then she allows her grip to ease a little bit, of Bela’s words to reach the auburn haired woman.

“Damnit Dani! What’s going-“

“Bela…”, Daniela sighs dreamily, happy to know her sister is right there, safe, alive, right there. All was just a dream. She’s blissfully unaware she is still asleep, her perception blurry as though under water, yet Bela’s coos and calming words reach her.

Satisfied that her sister’s nightmare has stopped, the blonde no longer shakes her and attempts to wake her, losing the fight she didn’t know she started to begin with. A pity, almost.

Donna watches, pleased, as Bela stays with Daniela for a few more minutes, then rises from the bed again.

Leave, she thinks. It isn’t much longer until morning, until Bela will be suspicious of the hours of sleep her little sister is getting or decides to bring her family to examine the strange mark she found on the young woman.

As though reminded of it, Bela gently pulls the blankets down again, just enough to have Daniela’s back revealed and the brand shown again.

Clearly, Bela has seen it before. Donna is not surprised. She is a Lord of the village, after all.

The woman looks as though she searches for its meaning through her mind.

She knows, she will figure it out, see the moon and sun and realize it adorns the many items at the village and even the castle that symbolize the lords, this one symbolizing Donna specifically.

Then, a gasp, and the doll maker knows she has it figured out.

She doesn’t waste time, turns to her swarm form and makes way for the door again. This time, Donna reaches out to the pollen in the room.

First, Bela feels her grip on her swarm fading, gasping when she falls to the ground. Her eyes turn heavy, her limbs even more so. Donna watches, pleased, as the too-curious and suspicious and protective sister desperately tries to crawl, her movement slow and difficult as though she was stuck in thick mud that held her down. The poor thing opens her mouth, but her screams emerge with no volume to them at all, her pleas unheard. She almost makes it to the door, even, when a phantom arm burst forwards and grips at her ankle, gripping tighter than necessary and tugging her right back.

Bela whimpers as she’s pulled back against the bed in the middle of the room, her vision darkening by the second.

She gasps when she feels a pair of hands on her head, cupping her cheeks from behind.

“Sleep, Dimitrescu”

And as such Donna watches, pleased, as Bela’s body goes limp, her sickle clanking to the floor, her body held only in Donna’s arms now. She’s set to the floor, allowing the dollmaker to turn to her doll again. 

Daniela sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware of what happened around her. She caresses her soft cheek, brushes her hair from her, then turns to her branded backside yet again. Daniela squirms and cries on the bed, forced asleep yet feeling every bit of the flashing pain as her back is burned more and more, yet no more marks appear. No, instead they seem to fade, digging deeper into her back until they are swallowed and covered by soft, but sore skin. More tears run down her soft, somewhat cubby cheeks. Donna almost coos at the sight. She drags her palm over the back in a featherlight touch, humming when the mark, while still there, deep inside, can no longer be seen or felt. She knows, the blonde will be checking for it come morning.

Ghostly fingers grab at the blonde and lift her, right next to her sister in the comfortable bed. Donna even tucks her in, removes her shoes and gloves and drapes Daniela’s arm over hers. She hopes the innocent display will fool the woman, make her believe it was all but a dream after comforting her sister and falling asleep in Daniela’s room. Donna doesn’t care that it doesn’t quite add up. She hopes, the confusion of it all and disorientation will break poor Bela’s mind, though suspects it will not yet.

She leans close to the unconscious woman, brushing blonde hair aside as she whispers in her ear;

“Poor Bela, such nasty nightmares you have been subjected to”

[tessa-liam]

Royal Adventures 

-Prologue- 

Book: Choices, The Royal Romance Series Finale +     A Smoke & Mirrors Series Alternate Universe

Pairing: King Liam Rys x F!MC Queen Riley Brooks-Rys OTP 

Rating: Teen, not beta’d-please excuse all errors    

Category: On-going series, fluff 

Warnings: a few swear words 

Most Characters belong to Pixelberry 

Music Inspiration: I Want It That Way, Backstreet Boys 

Series Inspiration: Royal Misadventures, A Smoke & Mirrors 1-shot 

Smoke & Mirrors Masterlist

My Main Masterlist

Series Premise: A collection of stories of the journey 12-year-old Crown Princess Eleanor Rys of Cordonia indertakes as she officially starts her Royal education. Tutors and advisors, that had been personally selected by Their Majesties King Liam Rys and Queen Riley Rys, were set to begin her royal lessons, and her days were packed full of knowledge. The young princess was a natural leader, and the King and Queen could not be more proud of their daughter.   

Royal Adventures 

-Prologue- 

Busy days turned into busy evenings when Ellie Rys enjoyed her free time. As a 12-year-old, her parents wanted her to enjoy her childhood as long as she could, but the Crown Princess' life was going to change forever when she would reach her coming of age, and she would be required to take her place at court, as her father had taken previously. 

Ellie knew her parents had a strong bond, and their love for one another was the reason their country had remained at peace for well over a decade. The Princess had always felt safe and secure, knowing she was loved and cherished. 

Ellie didn't have a typical royal upbringing and was a carefree and happy child.  Liam was more than happy that his children had an American mother as a role model, that grew up in a world of freedom.

She didn't have the same pressures that other royal children had, but the pressure would eventually start to mount in the next few years as she would grow older and need to learn more about the world and her duties of a future Queen.

Liam and Riley made it a point to ensure their kids were well-adjusted and had a happy childhood. 

They'd taken trips all over the world, and their favorite place was New York, where they'd visited during the last Christmas season. 

Ellie had seen the Rockefeller Center Tree, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, and the Staten Island Ferry. However, what she enjoyed the most was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Broadway musical 'Wicked'. 

She'd been mesmerized by the performances and sang along to the music. Liam and Riley couldn't help but chuckle at their daughter's enthusiasm. 

"What?" she'd asked innocently, with her big blue eyes and her cute dimples. 

"You remind me of myself at your age," Liam replied, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. 

"I can't wait until we go back to New York," she'd exclaimed, as the family flew back to Cordonia on their private jet.

"Me either, Princess, but we'll make sure you have many more happy memories at home," Liam said, and planted a kiss on the top of her head. 

*** 

Liam walked into his study, after he escorted Ellie to the royal library for her first royal lesson. As he watched his daughter attentively listen and interact with the history tutor, the pride he felt was all consuming. He couldn't believe his little girl was growing up so fast. It seemed like only yesterday when he and Riley were watching their newborn daughter take her first steps. 

It was later in the afternoon when he looked up from his laptop to see Riley's soft smile as she walked in and closed the door behind her. 

"Hello, love. How was Ellie's lesson?" Liam stood and walked around his desk to greet his wife with a kiss.

"It was great, Li ... she's a natural. The tutor was impressed." Riley grinned as Liam smiled wide.

"Of course, she is. She's a Rys." 

"She's just like her father. Always eager to learn new things," Riley teased, kissing him softly in return. 

"And her mother. Ellie has the heart of a fighter, and she's smart, brave, and kind." 

"I hope she's ready for all of this. It's a lot to handle."  Riley sighed, biting her lip.

"She will be. She's surrounded by love and support, and we will always be here for her." 

*** 

Ellie's first day was going well, until ....

Leo had a mischievous grin on his face as he crept towards the library. 

"Leo, what are you up to?" Maxwell asked as he noticed him peering through the gap between the double solid oak doors of the Royal library.

"SSHHH! ... You'll see," he replied in a hushed tone.

"Come on, man, don't pull anything stupid," Drake warned him as he walked up to join Maxwell.

"Just watch and learn, boys." 

Leo peeked through the space and saw the tutor reading a textbook to Ellie. He knew it would only be a few minutes before the lesson was over, and he had to act fast. 

He reached into his bag and pulled out a remote control.

Leo found a way to sneak a glitter bomb into the library without anyone noticing earlier in the day. He'd done it a million times at parties, and he knew it would create a big mess. 

"This is going to be epic," he muttered. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Drake whispered.

"Oh, come on, Drake, it's harmless. I've done this tons of times. Watch and learn, boys. " 

"Fine, we'll see," Maxwell shrugged. 

Leo took a deep breath, and with one flick of his wrist, the balloon was triggered and exploded with a loud pop.

As it burst, the glitter covered everything, and the sound of the balloon burst startled everyone. 

The tutor had a look of horror on her face, and Eleanor was shocked, standing up and moving quickly away from the table.

"Oh no," Leo whispered. 

"This is not what I was expecting. Shit." 

"Well, you better think of something quick," Drake shouted.

Through the gap in the door, Ellie spotted her uncle. Her brow furrowed, she pushed the heavy oak door forward.

"I can't believe you, Uncle Leo," Eleanor scowled, "you've ruined my first royal lesson." 

"I'm sorry, El, it was supposed to be a harmless prank." Leo looked at his neice regretfully.

"Well, you ruined everything. I can't even look at you right now. " 

"I'm so sorry. I was just trying to make things fun. I was always bored in these sessions, and I was just trying to lighten the mood." 

"You are the worst Uncle, ever, you know that?"

Leo raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Oh, come on Ellie, you know it's all in good fun." Ellie was fuming, "Uncle Leo, you've made me feel awful, and I can't believe you would embarrass me like that."  

"Hey...hey, Ellie, don't be upset. You have nothing to be ashamed of." 

"Really? How can you say that after what you did? I want Daddy to be proud of me. I want it that way!" 

Crossing her arms, Ellie stared down her uncle, smirking, "wait till mom finds out!" 

"Wait, you wouldn't. Not your favorite uncle," Leo pleaded. 

"Maybe, maybe not, depends how you behave from now on." 

"Alright, I'll do anything, just don't tell your parents." 

"Anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I will not be your servant again, though."  Leo thought back to an earlier prank gone wrong, and shuddered.

"Then don't mess with my lessons again! Deal?" 

"Deal."  Leo sighed.

Drake and Maxwell were speechless as they watched their friend and their niece, banter with each other.

"Wow, El, you've got your uncle Leo wrapped around your little finger."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Max. I'm a reformed man." Leo admonished.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Leo." Drake snorted.

"Okay, okay, free drinks at the beer garden. Now ... are you two going to help me clean up or not?"

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

📌tagging my perma's in the notes❣️

📌please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series❣️

[notiddygothgf]

prologue

★ pairings: choso x f!reader

★ synopsis: World famous rock star Choso Kamo’s new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him – substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship (or; the one where an unstable musician struggles to keep it friendly with his assistant).

★ c.w.: none (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: don't be a stranger! leave some comments for me to read teehee

★ w.c.; 2.8k

smoke and mirrors; chapter index

THE MUSIC INDUSTRY BLEEDS YOU DRY. That’s just the truth. It takes every ounce of your creative passion and tramples on it. It takes everything from you, and then it takes more. I find myself reconsidering my career path on a daily basis. There’s only one thing, in fact, that keeps me grounded.

“Choso! Choso! Choso! Choso!” 

That. The chant of the crowd. The endless bodies waving their hands over the venue, reaching for me, singing for me.

I leaned my head back, feeling the cool breeze of the backstage air against my neck, against my trembling skin. Crewmembers swarmed around me like gnats, tweaking little details of my outfit – one had a black eyeshadow palette up to my eyelid and another was messing with my hair. She had said something about needing to look intentionally messy.

The low hum of their conversation was only background noise to me. I blew a bubble with the wad of gum in my mouth – a nervous tic that clearly betrayed the calm exterior I was trying so hard to maintain.

The girl who was touching my eyeliner up snapped the palette shut. My mind was elsewhere – it was out there. 

“Choso! Choso! Choso!”

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The chant of my name reverberated through the walls, a frightening reminder of what lay just beyond the curtain. 

People. Thousands of them.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!” The chorus of voices seemed to grow louder. I shut my eyes, visualizing the sea of faces, the outstretched hands, the passion in their voices. The crowd– my fans; they were my lifeline. 

Another crew member informed me, “You’re on.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling that strange pit in my stomach. It was terrifying, it was familiar, it was… exciting. 

I took another breath, then I stepped forward. With each step towards the stage, the chanting intensified. The noise was like this strange, palpable force, urging me onward. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins the moment I reached the edge of the stage. The anticipation was almost… suffocating.

I stepped out. Then, for a blissful moment, it all seemed to go quiet.

I took a moment to look at them, really look at them. All of them. The mass of humanity blurred into one collective wave of joy. From here, I couldn’t even make out faces. Only smiles, flashing lights, and limbs flailing. Signs with my name on it. People with love in their hearts. 

Nothing but them and me, hearts beating in tandem. I wondered how nervous they felt – if they knew how nervous I felt standing here before them. If they knew I had been nervously chewing on a piece of gum only moments prior.

Thousands of people who all came together for one purpose – to see me. A mosaic of adoration. 

I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingers clutching the edge of my guitar. The weight of the crowd’s expectations pressed down on me. The realization hit me a second time – they were all here for me. That both terrified and humbled me.

I licked my lips, gave my old guitar a strum, feeling those familiar vibrations amplified a hundred fold. It was loud, so loud that I could still hear it reverberating throughout the venue when I reached for the microphone.

I stole another glance at the crowd as a smile broke across my face. 

Deep breaths.

I shouted, “What the fuck is up, Paris?”

The response was deafening. The crowd erupted in cheers. I could feel their energy merging with mine – the lights, the love, the screams. In that moment, I remembered why I endured the trials of my industry. I remembered why I was still living – what I was fighting for. It was all for them, the countless faces who found solace and inspiration in my music. 

And with that realization, I felt my heart begin to race.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” I asked.

They screamed back at me in response. I grinned.

“God, I love you guys,” I laughed. Strummed my guitar a second time. Looked at them. “I got a special show for you tonight!”

It was all for them. I do it all for them.

Life on the road was pretty crazy. I wish I could say that I had family to miss back home, but that wasn’t the case. I had been in and out of foster care for most of my life; had to grow up pretty fast so my brothers and I could stay off the streets. Other than the three of them, I never really had a family.

I turned to music as a crutch. I bought my first guitar with the first paycheck I earned – I was 16. I bandhopped for a while, alternating between the roles of lead singer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist. I found a passion for writing lyrics somewhere along the way. It felt nice, being able to put pen to paper and make my fucked up life sound appealing.

It was great.

I did basement shows right up until I turned 21. I would have been more than happy to keep on doing them – hell, sometimes I found myself wishing I could still fit those small, shitty little venues – but some big, music industry talent hotshot came and found me at one of my shows. He handed me a card. Told me he liked my sound, that I could be famous.

Who could have refused?

I never anticipated hitting it this big. Not that I’m complaining. It keeps a roof over me and my brother’s head – to say the least. I have more than enough money to live lavishly for the rest of my days.  I found my new family in my music team: my manager, my coordinators, my publicist. All of them. 

The music industry is notoriously blood-sucking. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I realized that rather quickly, though by the time I was hot enough to hire a whole team, I was in too deep. It all seemed so… superficial.

I grew to hate it.

My hatred only grew when I lost two of my beloved brothers – Eso and Kechizu. There was a shootout at the mall. They found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remember rushing to the hospital as soon as I heard the news. 

It was too late by that point, though. They had bled out long before I was able to see them.

I didn’t sleep for a week after that – I developed insomnia that would last for years to come. I spent my evenings curled up on my shower floor, sobbing into my own arms. It was the same after that, and then the day after that. I found myself spending all of my time replaying the memories in my head, thinking about where I went wrong.

It didn’t take long for me to find comfort in the lifestyle of the rich and famous – the drinking, the partying, the drugs. I would go on week-long benders, drinking myself into a sickened stupor, rolling up two joints a day, popping pills I didn’t know how to pronounce. Doping myself up so I couldn’t think about it.

Ecstasy, Molly, Coke, LSD, Acid – I’ve taken them all. Shit, you could probably find trace amounts of them in my blood at any given point in time.

Or… however the hell that shit works.

I took Adderall every day to keep me grounded. That’s what I told myself, at least. No doctor in his right mind would ever prescribe someone like me 80 milligrams on a daily basis. Good thing I paid mine enough to forget his hippocratic oath.

I wasn’t completely lost, though. I didn’t feel good about it. Yuuji, my only living brother, told me multiple times that I needed to cut down on my consumption. He wanted me to go to rehab. Shit, over my dead body.

He stopped bringing it up, but I could see it in his eyes – I was breaking his heart. I had to remind myself that he had lost his brothers, too, that day. Probably felt like he was losing the only one he had left.

I try not to dwell too hard on it, though. Got better shit to do.

Fucking hate the music industry most days. Everyone expects you to be all put-together, even though you wake up feeling like you dragged your feet through a field of broken glass shards. Even though you wake up every goddamn morning feeling you’re reliving the same day over and over again.

It’s like a painful reminder that the only people I have in my life are paid employees. I have no one – other than Yuuji – who I could confidently say would be there for me if I no longer had the funds to compensate them.

It fucking blows. I drink to forget about it. Drink and… well, everything else I put in my body.

Never put a needle in there, though… at least not for drugs. I’ve got more tattoos and piercings than I can count.

Enough about my unhealthy coping mechanisms, though.

My “family” never let me put out music I like making. They stripped my creativity from me. I lost all enjoyment in songwriting along the way. They turned me into a husk – a shell of the man I used to be.

I couldn’t recall the last time I felt real happiness. You know, the kind you got from taking a walk in nature and not from snorting and ingesting copious amounts of illicit substances. You would think that someone would see me greened out on the couch and know I was crying for help.

Nah. No one ever listens.

They never noticed. The only reason they cared about whether I was dead or alive was because I kept them well-fed and their pockets full.

That’s the fuckin’ music industry, baby. Nothing but a bunch of soulless, drugged-up puppets pumping out music they hate making. Begging for help.

But no one ever listens.

My head hung low as I snorted a line of powder off the tray my housemaid – or some other woman I didn’t know – had brought me. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. In her absence, I relished in the rush that hit me all too fast. 

I sniffed and coughed, shaking my head with remnants of the powder clinging to my nose. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

The studio’s walls were adorned with gold, platinum and silver records, a shark contrast to the disheveled state of the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The air hummed with companionable conversation and the distant echoes of a repetitive beat.

As I raised my head, the scene unfolded before me. Half-naked women, draped in a hazy glow from neon lights, raised their glasses in a toast. The shots went down smoothly, accompanied by the thumping bass of my latest creation, reverberating through the studio's speakers.

The instrumental was infectious, quick and catchy, resonating with a bass that seemed to throb in sync with the erratic pulse of the room. My eyes fell to the scattered papers on the coffee table in front of me – lyrics scribbled in messy script on lined paper that had been torn straight out of my composition notebook.

Cigarette smoke, a whiskey glass,

Fading memories, like shattered glass,

Every sunrise feels like the last,

Trapped in the echos of the past.

Stuck in the rhythm of a broken clock,

Every tick’s an echo, every tock’s a shock.

A carouse of monotony,

Lost in a loop, just try’na break free.

Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

Pouting, I wiped my nose, feeling the dull burn of the coke as it tingled in the back of my throat. I was congested as all hell. Still, I tried to sing the bridge beneath my breath. 

“Drift through the hours, like a ghost. In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost…” I hummed, pouting again when I realized I still didn’t like it. 

The women in the back of the room continued their celebration, completely oblivious to my internal struggle. They were too busy shooting the shit with my friends.

More glasses were poured, and one was handed over to me. I took a sip without looking – because it honestly didn’t matter what was in the cup, could’ve been piss for all I knew. The familiar burn of bourbon warmed me momentarily. Humming in recognition, I traced my finger over the rim of the glass, lost momentarily in the verbiage of my own creation. 

Something felt off.

Furrowing my brows, I stared down at the words on the page. I sniffled again. Then I downed about half of my glass of bourbon, standing up on unsteady feet. The room swayed slightly, especially when I walked over to the corner where the producer was set up – a lone figure surrounded by the chaos.

I nodded at him, muttering, “Play it again from the chorus. I’m try’na see somethin’.”

The producer – Chris, or some shit like that – nodded back. He pressed a button, and the beat started over. The room’s ambiance, fueled by laughter and friendly chatter, didn’t quiet down. 

I tried my best to immerse myself in the rhythm, but the distractions were just… it was just too much.

‘Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.’

I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to actually sing the words until my producer looked over at me expectantly. I shook my head, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit, sorry, take it from… take it from the chorus again, please?” My voice cut through the noise – or tried to, at least. 

The beat started over again, a few measures behind where I needed to be.

“Guitar wails like a distant scream…” I attempted once more. “Drift through the hours, like a lost– fuck, I fucked it up.”

The collective revelry around me was a wall – it fucked me up. I could feel a headache coming on.

“Can we pipe down a bit?” I groaned, massaging my temples. My ears began to ring a bit, growing louder with every passing second that the chatter continued. “Guys, shut the hell up.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The ringing persisted, drowning out everything else in the room. 

“Yuki,” I directed at her, a little louder now. She seemed to have been leading the conversation. “Yuki, please.”

No one ever listens.

And they didn’t. They weren’t fucking listening. I tried to make eye contact with her, but I couldn’t seem to make out her face from the rest. The room was blurry, moving side to side, hazy around the edges. I held my forehead, groaning quietly.

They were so fucking loud.

No one ever listens.

Downing the rest of my bourbon in one go, I – in a fit of frustration – hurled the glass against the wall above the couch where my friends were comfortably seated. It shattered, sending shockwaves through the room as stunned silence replaced the previous chaos.

“Yuki,” I mumbled, swaying slightly on my feet. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to.. Try’na fuckin’...”

“Choso,” She began quietly, her mouth slightly agape. Had she always had a twin sister, or was I dreaming? “Your… your nose– are you okay?”

I put a hand up to my nose, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary. My fingers were red when I brought them back, painted with a viscous crimson fluid. Another fell from my nostril onto the pale skin of my wrist. 

My nose is bleeding.

I wiped my nose, waving them off. “I’m fine,” I slurred – I wasn’t, least I don’t think I was, but the show must go on, or some shit like that. “Can we just… keep going, please?”

A thick, heavy silence enveloped the studio. With all of them finally keeping their mouths shut, I could hear myself think again. The ringing in my ears began to subside, and I, looking over my shoulder at Chuck– Chris, whatever the fuck– demanded, “Play that shit again.”

He swallowed nervously, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. Still, he pressed a button or two, and the song started all over again.

Drift through the hours like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

a/n: hiiii! I hate the way this was written, but I always hate my first chaps hehe. NEXT ONE WILL BE SM BETTER I SWEAR!! this is gonna be a long, slow burn, smutty ass fanfic (loosely [very loosely] based on the show 'the idol'). and by based on ofc I mean I watched an ep and I was like damn I could make this better. Enter our beloved emo boy choso kamo. anyway!! comment your thoughts/wishes/etc!! I love an interactive community of loyal commenters and I loveee reading all of ur thoughts and lovely remarks!! keep them coming, and ill keep the chapters coming in retribution! love you bunches!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: @/2OARIN on twitter (cover art). If you know the other artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | smoke and mirrors; chapter index

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

Dude I can't stop!

My brain, my brain keeps making me draw Full moon making out! Send help!!! I'm gonna run out of paper!!

I recommend napkins, the backs of receipts, and those random ass blank pages that are sometimes in the backs of books once you run out. XD Also share! I love your art. :3

[mama-ships]

@sinclairmaxwellao3 @cyborgfoxcripple

I like to give Jackie Lil eclipse rays

Sketch of a scene from Smoke and Mirrors by these two lovely ppl above!!!

(Like I said... cancer patient vibes)

[joycieillustrations]

He understands her silent look; he always does.

A moment from chapter two of my fic salt and smoke 💕

Please do not repost without my permission!

[flame-hair]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Redacted ‘Smoke’ Evans

[faline-cat444]

It's this month's "Big Release Day" but some things still have yet to show

[slime-based-art]

different Vox fictives reaction to Valentino's (potential??) pregnancy.

First: Vox of Hearts, second: Cybergoth Vox

Third: Evil Vox under cut, tw implied unsafe abortion

[getvalentined]

Smoke and Mirrors ║ Seven: Ontogenetic Niche Shift + Epilogue: Post-Mortem ⤳

Chapters: 7/7 + epilogue Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII Rating: Explicit Warnings: Author Chose Not To Warn Relationships: Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth Characters: Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Claudia Strife, Sephiroth, Genesis Rhapsodos Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Medicinal Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Nibelheim Incident (Compilation of FFVII), Graphic Depictions of Illness, Degradation (Compilation of FFVII), Averting the Nibelheim Incident With:, Weed, Blowjobs, Threesome - M/M/M, featuring C/G/S, Praise Kink, Bottom Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Top Genesis Rhapsodos, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Timeskip, Other Characters Not Mentioned in Tags, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, See Epilogue for Details

Finding the end of the journey.

———

And that's a wrap, folks. This update is actually two in one, as it's the final chapter (15k words) and the epilogue (7.5k words). And with that, Smoke and Mirrors is officially complete.

Thank you all for coming along on this ride with me. I hope it was worth the wait.

———

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter five

1 2 3 4

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.2k

You decided to stay away from the triplets until the wedding, especially after the weird, sexual thoughts you had about Chris the last time you guys were together. You figured it was best to keep your distance and let your mind sort itself out before you saw him again, or any of them for that matter, fearing you might slip up and say something stupid and have them catch on to the terrifying things going on in your mind. Luckily, the thoughts had mostly subsided, except when you were alone late at night, your vibrator calling to you from your bedside table. You couldn’t help the fact that the original fantasy you had imagined after your date, Chris taking you on the bathroom floor, would infiltrate your mind just as you were about to hit your peak, being the one and only thing you had orgasmed to the thought of in the last week.

But now, you find yourself showing up to the triplets’ house in a pair of sweats and a crop top, your dress, makeup and hair products thrown in a bag as you had decided to get ready there, wanting their input and mostly just their company. “I’m here!” You call as you let yourself into their house, not hearing anyone respond to you so you just head up the stairs towards the living room, still not seeing anyone there.

You huff and place your things down on the table, heading towards Matt’s room, where you hear a bit of commotion going on. You push the door open and see him on his PC, headphones securely on his head as he played fortnite, seemingly with his brothers since nobody had answered you. You walk up to him and place both of your hands on his shoulders and he jumps, whipping his head around to look at you.

“Holy shit!” He yells, putting a hand over his heart. “You scared the fuck out of me!”

You giggle and wave down at him. “Just trying to see where everyone is,” you tell him. He pulls his headset off and leans in to give you a side hug from where he sat.

“Everyone’s in their room,” he tells you, pulling away. “Chris said you can get ready in his room because he already showered and Nick still has to after we get off.”

You nod and ruffle Matt’s hair, telling him ‘thanks’ and ‘good luck’ before you leave his room and grab your things, heading downstairs to Chris’s room where the door is already open. This time he sees you come in and just shoots you a glance before turning back to his game, and you’re grateful he pays you no mind, walking past him and into his bathroom.

He leaves you completely unbothered for the next hour and a half, even once they’re done playing games and Matt and Nick have come to check on you a couple times, Chris stays perched in his gaming chair, scrolling on his phone. You’re fine with this, only really wanting the company of his brothers anyway, but when you’re almost ready and all you have to do is get your dress on, you walk out to him and stand directly in front of his chair.

He drags his eyes up your body until he meets your face, his shocked expression taking over for a moment before he gets it under control, dropping his phone to his lap to see what you have to say. “Can you get dressed?” You ask him. “I want to leave in like ten to fifteen minutes.”

Chris sighs and pushes himself up off of his chair, walking over to his closet so he could grab his suit that hung up in there. He comes back and throws it on his bed then grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to start to change in front of you, and to avoid what you’ve coined as your ‘intrusive Chris thoughts’, you turn and head back into the bathroom, shutting the door to create a barrier between the two of you, especially since you figured now was a good time to change into your dress as well.

Once you’re changed you open the door again and see Chris just about done, buttoning up his pants. He looks up at you and pauses, taking in your full frame, dress on, hair and makeup done, legs probably shaved. You clear your throat to ease the tension, stepping out of the bathroom and towards him, turning around once you reach him and he understands that you’re in need of help once more. He reaches forward and grabs the zipper that rested low on your back, pulling it all the way up to the top. He then tucks his fingers in the straps and drags them forward, straightening out any twists in them.

You turn around and face him once more, muttering a small ‘thanks’, to which he nods slightly. Your hair was up in a neat bun, a few curls particularly placed andfalling out of it and also framing your face, your makeup a subtle, neutral look as to not be too attention seeking, and although both were simple in itself, the combination of that plus the dress that adorned your body had been no doubt the sexiest you’d looked in a long time, and even Chris couldn’t deny that. He refused to speak, afraid of what would slip past his lips if he parted them.

“Need help with your tie again?” You ask him and he just nods again, reaching towards the bed to grab it and hold it up towards you.

You grab the tie and reach around his neck, starting to tie it for him. You both remained silent throughout this interaction, feeling awkward at the tension that filled the room, yet you tried to ignore it and focus on the task at hand, fingers fumbling with the fabric but ultimately getting it done, running your hand over his chest when you’re done. “Good,” you tell him, taking a step back.

You guys look at each other for a couple more moments, and you’re about to speak, sucking in a deep breath, when you hear the door fly open and Nick walks through it.

“Woah!” He yells, looking at the two of you that now face him. “You guys look incredible!”

Matt saunters in behind him, jaw dropping at the sight of you both. “Holy shit, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you guys were actually a couple.” He laughs, walking closer to you.

You smile shyly and drop your shoulders, hoping the earth opens up and swallows you whole, hating the attention that was directed at you. “Hey,” Matt says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Stand up straight, you look beautiful.”

You listen, straightening up to appear more confident. “Thanks,” you respond. “I feel really pretty.”

Matt beams back at you. “You should. Take lots of pictures today, I wanna see what you guys get up to.”

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s chill out yeah?” Chris moans. “We leaving or what?”

You roll your eyes at his comment, not understanding why he always had an issue with yours and Matt’s relationship, always feeling the need to say something out of pocket like that. It wasn’t just recently, it’s been always, and despite the two of you being close, it was always platonic. The cuddling, the pet names, you knew for a fact you guys didn’t have feelings for each other, but Chris seemed to think otherwise.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you reply, heading to his door and walking up the stairs. You had left your shoes off, not wanting to put them on until you get to the actual wedding since you had a longer drive ahead of you, so you pick those up off of the floor and grab your purse off of the table, sliding it over your shoulder. Chris follows you up the stairs and into the living room where he puts his shoes on, both of you finally fully ready to leave.

Matt and Nick walk you guys to the door and you and Chris exit the home, heading towards your car. “Can I play music again?” Chris asks once you guys are settled and you nod. “Of course, just don’t mess with my directions, I have no idea where I’m going.”

Chris chuckles a bit at you and grabs your phone, starting to queue music for the ride. You’re about ten minutes into the ride, listening to the music Chris had decided to play, when you reach forward and lower the volume, clearing your throat. “Okay, so. You remember the story of how we started dating?”

He sighs over-dramatically, turning his head towards you. “We met in high school, we’ve been friends for the last seven years, we decided six months ago that we were just so in love and couldn’t hide it anymore, I took you on a date and the rest is history. Easy enough.”

You smile and nod. “Yep! Everything else I feel like we can just make up on the spot. Oh, and don’t forget to call me babe instead of my name, gotta make sure we’re convincing.”

Chris grimaces. “Babe…” he says under his breath. “Kinda cringe, no?”

“What, would you rather call me baby? Sweetie? Honey? Cutie pie?” You retort with a scoff. “I think babe is the most mundane of them all.”

“I guess,” he responds. “How long are we staying?”

“I have no idea, Chris, as long as I feel like it. Just have a few drinks and chill the fuck out, it’ll go by fast.” You tell him.

It wasn’t like you wanted to spend your whole night with someone who would rather be anywhere but near you, but it needed to be done for the sake of your sanity. You couldn’t go another moment listening to people ask you why you didn’t have a boyfriend. Your family has always been the invasive type, asking personal and borderline intimate questions that didn’t involve them at all, so dealing with Chris for one night was worth the peace and quiet you know you’d get from them, apart from all of the questions about your relationship.

After the nearly forty-five minute car ride, you park your car in the lot outside the church, sighing in relief. “I gotta put my heels on then I’m ready to go in,” you tell him, and he nods, not looking up from his phone.

As you’re putting your shoes on, still sitting in the car, Chris speaks up. “How lovey are we going? Like.. from honeymoon phase to established couple, how much should I be touching you?”

You finish buckling the straps on your heels, then sit up and push some hair out of your face, looking over at Chris. “We might have to go full honeymoon phase, unfortunately. If they think for even a second that this isn’t real, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Chris groans, letting himself out of the car and around to your door, opening it for you and holding a hand out for you to grab. “Alright, let’s do this then.”

You grab his hand and let yourself out of the car, locking it and dropping your keys into your purse. “Wow, you’re such a gentleman when you want to be, huh?”

“I’m actually a very good boyfriend, contrary to whatever you think about me.” Chris leans in as you walk side by side, lips inches away from your ear. “I’m also a very attentive lover,” he whispers.

You whip your head around and slap his chest with the hand that isn’t entwined in his. “Gross! Not something I need to know. Why have you gone so sexual on me lately?”

“What are you talking about?” Chris questions, opening the door to the church for you, letting you walk in before him.

You walk in and turn to watch him come in behind you, lowering your voice. “Telling me you’re an attentive lover, talking about fucking me on the bathroom floor, telling me how hot I am, bending me over your bed.”

Chris rolls his eyes, leading you towards the sanctuary where the ceremony was being held. “I’m not saying I want to fuck you, I’m saying you want to fuck me. And sorry for trying to make you feel better when you’re crying over your body that you definitely shouldn’t be crying about.”

You guys take your seat near the back, settling in nice and close to each other. “I don’t want to fuck you,” you tell him quietly. “Sorry if I got your hopes up.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” he responds, reaching down to place his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently.

You look down at where his hand is placed, the unfamiliar feeling sending shivers down your spine. “See?” Chris whispers, leaning in close to you. “You want me so bad.”

You whip your head up, your faces only inches apart. “Don’t want you at all,” you grumble. “God, I can’t wait to start drinking, you’re way too much to handle.”

“Or am I just clouding your thoughts and you need to drown it out with alcohol?” Chris retorts, smirk evident in his voice.

You reach for his waist and pinch him, hard, glaring at him. “What the fuck has gotten into you? Seriously?” Your tone is aggressive but you’re speaking lowly in a whisper. “Why do you think I want you so bad? Why do you want me to want you so bad? Is there something you need to tell me?”

Chris rolls his eyes, pushing your hand away from him and rubbing the spot where you pinched him. “Don’t need to tell you anything, I just like getting you riled up. Angry you is kinda hot.”

Your eyes widen like saucers, unable to believe that he’s still going, despite you practically yelling at him. “Chris, shut the fuck up before I smack the shit out of you.”

Chris leans back into you, lips grazing over your ear as he starts to speak. You know you should pull away and create distance between the two of you, but something inside of you is keeping you put, staying completely still. “Can you pull my hair too?”

You take a deep breath, the so called intrusive Chris thoughts starting to trickle back into your mind, infiltrating your sanity. It was only the start of the day for fuck’s sake and he had already gotten under your skin, how were you supposed to deal with him the entire rest of the night?

You turn your head away from him, now facing the altar with a stoic expression. “Enough,” you tell him, voice laced with finality.

Chris turns his body as well, staring straight ahead, though his hand still rested on your thigh, too high up for comfort, and you’re grateful that you’re at a wedding and wearing a long dress and not at a family barbecue in shorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the feeling of skin on skin right now.

The ceremony starts, and as beautiful as it is, it barely serves as a distraction to the terror in your head. You had never thought about Chris like this, and sure he was attractive but that doesn’t mean he made you nervous or made you overthink every interaction. You hadn’t even thought about Matt like this and you guys were super close, always touching, cuddling and calling each other cute names, so why was Chris making you feel this way?

You chalk it up to just being desperate for man’s touch after so long, telling yourself there was no way you were actually craving Chris’s touch in particular, you were just needy and insanely horny.

After the ceremony is over, you stay seated for a few minutes, letting people filter out of the sanctuary before you decide to leave. You’re hoping you can make it to the reception before you have to start introducing Chris to people, but that wish is crushed when your mom and sister walk over to you guys, beaming from ear to ear.

“Hi!” Your mom gushed, leaning down to hug you tightly, rubbing your back as she did so. “Oh my god, you look so beautiful!”

You smile at her and accept the compliment, standing up from your seat to hug your sister as well. Chris stands up next to you but stays silent.

Your mom locks eyes with you and wiggles her eyebrows. “And who is this?” She asks, giddy.

“This is Chris,” you introduce both parties to each other, and Chris reaches forward, shaking hands with both your mom and sister.

“Nice to meet you guys,” he says. “I hear a lot about you.” Lie.

Your mom puts a hand over her chest, pouting slightly. “Oh how precious. You guys look so cute together.”

“Thanks,” he laughs. “All credit goes to her. She picked out my tie and I think she’s definitely pulling her weight in making us look like a good couple. I mean, she looks stunning.”

You turn your head to Chris and he turns and smiles at you, sending a discreet wink your way. He’s turned it on, and it almost scares you how good he is at this. He’s already got your mom wrapped around his finger.

“I would have to agree,” your mom boasts, still smiling as hard as she can. “Hey listen, we gotta get going but we’ll see you over there, yeah?” You nod and hug them both one more time before they leave and you and Chris both feel a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“You’re way too good at that,” you tell Chris, shaking your head.

Chris laughs and gestures for you to exit the row you’re sitting in, ready to get out of her and back in the car. “Told you I’m a good boyfriend.”

You scoff. “Yeah, if only you were a good friend, too.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as he follows behind you, processing the words you just said to him. “Ouch,” is all he replies.

You guys leave the church and get back in your car, both of you letting out a sigh of relief from being out of the church, even though the only person you had to see so far was your mom.

“How much you gonna drink today?” You ask Chris, mostly as a joke.

Thankfully, Chris laughs. “A lot.”

You giggle, grabbing your phone to find directions to wherever the reception was. “Me too,” you respond.

“There’s a fine line, though. Gotta make sure I drink enough to survive being your boyfriend, but not drink so much that I actually want to be your boyfriend.” Chris jokes, at least you hope he’s joking.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts, Christopher. Better not try to kiss me or something.”

Chris groans. “Yeah, right. I’ll probably kiss your mom before I kiss you. She’s hot.”

You squeal, smacking his chest. “Ew! Don’t talk about my mom like that.”

“Dude, have you seen her? She’s a fucking rocket.” Chris whistles to drive the point home, laughing at your disgusted expression.

“You’re finding your own way home tonight.”

Chris just smirks. “I know exactly who I’m going home with tonight.”

“Enough!”

-

a/n: feel like i’m edging you guys a little TOOOO much. maybe we’ll switch it up soon. also im sorry I told yall this chapter was gonna be boring 😔

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[muffinsin]

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 3: Unravel Me

[TWs for this chapter: Kidnapping, light drugging]

Masterlists Smoke and Mirrors

Overview Smoke and Mirrors

Blog Masterlists

40 likes for the next chapter again

Daniela walks slowly, her legs carrying her forth towards the front of the strange manor. The sound of the wind passing through little creeks in the stony mountains near have her flinch, the sound of the waterfall nearby so loud she barely hears anything else. She steps towards the door, then, when her hand pushes flatly against it, the wooden thing opens easily. Unlocked.

Cautiously, she looks inside. She can’t help her curiosity, though. All her life, living only at the castle, having only been in the village a few times to taunt some of the villagers here and there or to collect a maid. This is new. Mother wouldn’t approve, she knows. Cassandra would drag her back, she knows. Bela would make her return, she knows. She’s no fool, after all. But, this is so curious, so tempting.

She sees the inside, the dark wooden floors, the rocking chair and table, on top a bowl with wool, the thread leading deeper into the house. Daniela eyes it curiously, tracking it so far as she can before it leads past a corner she cannot see. She squirms a little. The manor is so invitingly warm, seems so familiar. So right, even.

It’s long since she’s heard the worried cries of her sister pleading with her to show herself. She feels lost, yet has never felt this welcome.

Some force pushes her into the warm house, and suddenly the sounds from the outside are completely sealed away as the door shuts behind her. Suddenly, her back burns, and Daniela doubles over at the pain. She cries out, whimpering into the nothingness when she feels the faint touches again, cupping her wet cheeks this time. But she sees no one, nothing- nothing but dolls and furniture and decorative plates on the walls. All is so different from how it looks at the castle.

Beneath her dress, the branding symbol of the Beneviento house sears as it comes back to surface. At least, it doesn’t hurt as bad as the first time, she feels, yet the sensation is enough for thick tears to roll down her cheeks and for her lips to dry, parted as she screams.

Then, just when she thinks it won’t stop anymore, the pain comes to an abrupt halt.

She straightens again, getting back to her feet. The manor looks abandoned, but something feels off. The lure is still there, the urge to follow it even more so. The Dimitrescu doesn’t yet know she is right in the beast’s belly, about to be swallowed whole.

Golden eyes trace over the dolls, each dressed in dark and light dresses alike, their porcelain skin beautiful. Then, she finds the string of green wool again.

She can’t help but reach for it, holding it gently between her fingers as she follows it deeper into the house. She finds a kitchen, large and spacious, but far less regal looking than any room back at the castle. No, this manor has no bright, golden and red colours. All here is dark and faded, but homely, humble even, in some way. It feels inviting, somehow. She feels a little less lonely in this seemingly empty house than she does at the large castle, she realises. She wonders; perhaps she can show this to Bela and Cassandra when she’s back.

Abandoning the string for a moment, Daniela inspects the kitchen. Despite the manor’s abandoned style, all is in place and tidy, save for the string. She opens a few cabinets, finding ingredients and tools she has seen at the castle, too. Cooking tools, she guesses. She finds bread and berries, herbs and silverware. As she caresses the counters with her fingertips, she finds not even the faintest trace of crumbs on it. On the counter are vases, sporting yellow, red and even white flowers. She allows her fingertip to trace a petal gently, before her attention drifts to the part of the room besides the kitchen.

A table, small, and a sofa and chairs. A bookshelf. Immediately, she rushes towards it, a large smile on her dark painted lips. Then, she flinches back when she finds a doll sitting on one of the chairs. It’s dressed in a simple black dress, voluminous and rich looking. Her hair is cut short, to her shoulders, but looks adorable paired with the little black hat sat on it. Daniela can’t help but smile. She reminds her of the dolls Alcina had gotten her and her sisters as reborn fly spawns, back when her sisters had the time to play dress up and play with dolls with her, back when they had time to indulge her and participate in her parties. Now, she can only do so by forcing some maidens to join in, though knows they never quite want to. And even as she tries it occasionally, a tea party with only her and some mangled corpses as attendants just isn’t any fun.

“Aren’t you a cutie!”, she praises, and while the doll doesn’t move or answer, unsurprisingly to her, she finds she feels a strange sensation of pride and satisfaction spread within her body, emerging right from the mark on her back. She giggles at the light feeling, thinking nothing of it, and turns back to the shelf.

There, she pulls some books aside, though frowns when she finds no romances or fairytales among them. Still, at the back of her mind she notes that Bela would likely enjoy the many studies and biographies the bookshelf holds. Maybe she’ll show her those, if she ever stops working and has the time to see this place for herself, she can’t help but think bitterly.

Finding nothing of interest, she returns to the string and follows it deeper into the place.

Rounding a corner, she finds another hallway, less rich than any in the castle, even feeling somewhat claustrophobic. She pauses for a moment, watching the string as it leads down the hallway and right to a corner, again.

“Good”

She jumps at the voice, low and ghost-like, coming from the walls. Or her head? Daniela shivers a little at the mere thought of such a thing.

“Closer”, it beckons. She can’t help but obey.

She follows the string again, finding two doors at the hallway. She reaches for the handle of one, but shrieks when the string in her hand burns hotly, matching her sore back. Immediately she returns to the middle of the hallway, looking around somewhat like one might describe a lost puppy. The poor thing is panting, feeling the string and her back calm again. Clearly, there is no time to explore the place to her liking.

Her feet move beyond her control, carrying her deeper into the quiet house. She finds more dolls sat along the counters and the floor, all seemingly watching her. She shivers, walking on her own again, her curiosity growing.

Rubbing the string between her fingertips, she wonders whether this is it. Could it be? Could her lost lover be trying to contact her? Will this mark the end of her loneliness? She shivers, the air heavy, but still she feels anticipation.

As she walks down the hallways of the manor, deeper and deeper, memories return to her.

Memories of sitting by the flowers, crying, a kind woman comforting her. Dressed in black, intriguing. She knew her, she knows. But, who? She follows the string to an elevator and giggles. How modern! Oblivious to the danger she is in, Daniela steps inside and allows its metallic doors to close behind her. She shivers again at the ghostly touches caressing her back and shoulders. Already, she feels less lost, less alone. This must be it!

Without pushing a button, the elevator moves downwards.

Another memory hits her, of herself this time. She feels what she felt, the love and anticipation and submission as she kneels on the ground for the woman before her. She feels the woman’s fingers on her, caressing her cheeks, then trapping her chin. She looks up obediently despite the elevator being empty aside from her and a few dolls she hadn’t noticed before. She thinks nothing of it, she likes the small puppets.

Daniela gasps as another phantom touch has her feel a hand sliding past her back and her hip. The memory is gone, but she feels it, she feels how very close she is.

Just a little more, then she knows.

She must know.

Just a little more.

When the doors open, she gasps as something hits her, something familiar. She feels as if in a trance yet again, pheromones around her leading and luring her in, her vision slightly blurred, her body heavy, her flies entirely unresponsive. She doesn’t jump when the dolls by her side jump to life, doesn’t flinch away when their little hands grab at hers and lead her out the elevator.

She follows obediently, her head a fuzzy, blurry mess.

“Come”

“Closer”

“Very good”

The voice, so low, so beautiful. She knows it, she’s so sure she’s heard it before, but where? She closes her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she is led along.

Daniela no longer cares for exploring, for her environment, for returning to Bela, for retreating to the castle again. She needs to follow the voice, needs to find its origin, her lover so close, she’s so sure. Her soulmate, her everything. It all feels almost within her grasp, now. They’d understand if she stayed away just a little more, she’s sure.

The memory of the previous night continues on, Daniela sees the dark, shadowy figure of a woman. She hears her low voice, the same she hears now. She feels lightheaded, smiles wide when she feels the memory of being undressed. She doesn’t notice the ghostly phantom hands return to her, copying the movements she’s remembering until the torn cape clasped off and her dress comes off. She’s so happy, so calm, so utterly lost to her love and the memory.

She feels the love she felt, feels the warm embrace. Her back burns and it feels so nice and warm, so comforting. She’s so lost in everything, Daniela doesn’t even notice it when the collar always hugging her throat is removed, the green gemstone breaking as it falls to the floor abruptly. She can’t bring herself to notice, can’t bring herself to care, to resist. She will be taken care of, she will be loved. The poor, delusional thing is dreamily thinking of introducing her lover to her family.

She feels the sensation of the memory, her hands grabbed and moved behind her back, setting her up in a perfectly submissive position. Her legs still move, carry her deeper. She’s so close, she knows it. She leans into her memories, pleading with the mysterious woman to grant her more, to let her remember the last night to its fullest.

Daniela’s body flushes as she remembers being pushed against her lover’s cunt, her nose grazing her clit. She remembers the fingers dipping into her in turn and instinctively pushes her thighs together even as she walks. She feels it, almost, the blissful feeling and taste of it all.

“Good girl”

“Come closer, my darling”, Donna coos, sensing how the petnames feed into poor Daniela’s delusion. She’s so close, nearly has her doll precisely where she needs her.

Daniela gasps as she walks blindly, led by the dolls and the phantom hands at her hips and shoulders. She tastes the woman’s lips, tastes them against her gentler ones. She feels it, almost sees her, almost there. She sees dark clothing, strong, skilled fingers. She hears her voice, commanding her to spread her legs, she feels the pleasure that follows from her obeying. Why would she ever not want to obey? She loves the sweet reward that follows.

Donna watches as Daniela steps into the dark workshop, her eyes open but glossy, her reality turned completely, trapping the little doll in her delusions and memories, a fantasy world created by none other than her skilled dollmaker.

She doesn’t move, leans confidently against the workbench as Daniela approaches her, led and pushed gently, completely bared to her save for her soaked underwear and stockings. She sees the woman’s hard nipples reacting to the environment, smells her arousal even.

Daniela gasps as she’d made to cum, her back burning, so bad, so good. She’s cradled, her eyes heavy. When she gazes up, she finds the dark eye of none other than Donna Beneviento.

[tessa-liam]

Royal Adventures 

Season’s Scrambles

Chapter 2 

Books: Choices, The Royal Romance Finale, Choices, The Royal Holiday 

A Smoke & Mirrors Series Alternate Universe 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F! MC Riley Brooks-Rys

All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios

Series Inspiration: Royal Misadventures, Smoke & Mirrors series 1-shot 

Series Premise: 12-year-old Crown Princess Eleanor Rys of Cordonia has officially started her Royal education. Tutors that had been personally selected by His Majesty King Liam Rys and Queen Riley Rys were set to begin her royal lessons, and her days were packed full. The young princess was a natural leader, and the King and Queen could not be prouder.   

Royal Adventures Masterlist 

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist 

Rating:  M, not Beta'd-please excuse all errors    

Category: On-going series, fluff 

Warnings: swearing, drinking, sexual innuendo 

Most Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios 

Chapter Inspiration: National Lampoon’s ‘Christmas Vacation’ 

Katie Campbell – Theme Song 1989 

Royal Adventures 

Season’s Scrambles, chapter 2 

Chapter Summary: Olivia invites the Royal Family, Leo & Amalas, Drake & Delaney, Alex Cossoy, Hana and Maxwell to the Dukedom of Lythikos to enjoy the winter season for the holidays.  Ellie, along with Drake, Leo and Maxwell decide to have a sledding competition. In secret. Olivia and Ellie conspire to grease Maxwell's sled with a super slippery substance where his sled flies down the hill at an extremely fast speed. 

A/N: My submission for King Liam Appreciation Week 2024, Day 1 - Baklava 

A/N2: My submission for @choicesholidays, @angelascribbles -Week 5- Prompt: New Traditions 

A/N3: My submission for Choices December 2024 Challenge, Prompts: 4-Traditions/5-Baking/8-Spices/21-Tree/26-Hot Chocolate/10-Snow,      All I Want for Christmas is You (Mariah Carey) 

@lilyoffandoms 

Words: 2445

 Lythokis Keep, Lythokis, Cordonia 

Carefully laying out the phyllo dough, Riley hummed a Christmas tune as she started to layer the ingredients for Baklava for Liam. The sweet honey drizzle and cinnamon made her mouth water. The smell of his favorite dessert would draw him into the kitchens quickly. Luckily, he was off to fell a talon tree with Leo, Drake and Alex, having left at the crack of dawn, not expected to return until later in the afternoon. 

"Baklava?" 12-year-old Ellie asked, as she watched her mother gleefully preparing her father’s favorite sweet treat. Sitting on the stool next to her mother, Ellie sighed, “I love Baklava,” looking longingly at the sweet confection. 

"Of course you do," Riley chuckled, nudging her shoulder. "I'll try to save you some," as Riley continued to sprinkle chopped pistachios onto the dish. 

"Thanks, Mom!" 

"I want to lick the bowl." Stefan said, jumping up and down. 

"No way!" William cried. "You always get to lick the bowl, Steffie." 

"Stefan, you can't eat it all," Riley said, looking down at her youngest. "This is your dad's and he's going to be hungry after felling that tree." 

"But I love baklava," Stefan pouted, his eyes tearing up. 

Riley looked over at him, seeing the tears in his eyes. She knew that look anywhere. 

"Stefan, no..." she warned. 

"Please?" He begged. 

She shook her head, chuckling. 

"Go ahead." 

"Yessss!" Stefan cheered, leaping into the air. 

Riley grinned and finished placing the top layer. She took the pan and placed it into the oven. 

"So," she said, turning to look at her children. "What's on the agenda for today?" 

"Auntie Livvie invited Micaela and I to go sledding," Ellie said.  

"Oh really? Okay, before you go, please help your brothers with their skates.” 

"Sure, Mom," Ellie nodded agreeably.  

Riley took a sip of her coffee and walked away to get herself dressed for the winter chill, leaving the kids to their own devices. 

"Alright, boys," Ellie said, walking over to them. 

"We wanna go sledding!" William whined. 

"I'll help you get your skates on," she said. "Then you can go sledding." 

"Promise?" 

“Yes, I promise." 

❄️❄️❄️ 

"Alright, boys," Maxwell said, standing in the middle of the ice rink with Hana and Amalas, holding his nephews' hands. "Are you ready to learn how to skate?" 

"Yes!" Stefan yelled. 

"No!" William cried. "It's cold out here." 

"You won't even notice once you get started," Hana said, kneeling next to him. 

"Really?" 

"Trust me." 

"Alright," William said, nodding. 

"Come on, you two," Riley said, taking their hands. 

"Mom," Ellie said, grabbing Riley's hand. 

"Hmm?" 

"When is Daddy coming back?" 

"In a few hours, sweetie," she replied, rubbing her arm. "He should be done by lunch time." 

"Ok." 

"Now," Riley said, standing on the ice and taking the twins' hands. "Let's go." 

"Wait," Stefan said, stopping. 

"What's wrong?" 

"How do we stay up?" 

"Don't worry," Hana said, sliding next to him and taking his hand. "We've got you." 

"I'm scared." 

"Just relax and don't think about it," Maxwell said. 

"Just like when you're walking," Riley added. 

"Just don't fall," Stefan nodded warily. 

"Stefan," William groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don't say that." 

"Why not?" 

"You'll jinx us." 

"How would I-" 

"Hey," Maxwell said, crouching in front of them. "Look at me. Do you know who I am?" 

"You're Uncle Maxwell," Stefan nodded. 

"Do you know that I'm not going to let you get hurt? Or your mom or your Aunt Hana?" 

"No." 

"And you trust me, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Maxwell said, winking at him. 

"Okay." 

"Good." 

"I want to go with you, Auntie Hana!" Stefan said. 

"Me too!" William cried. 

"Ok, ok," Hana chuckled. 

As the twins began to glde with Hana, Riley looked up at Maxwell and smirked. 

"Race you." 

"Oh, you're on, queen Riles," Maxwell said, smirking back. 

They sped off across the ice, the kids squealing as they picked up speed. Amalas slid next to Hana, smirking. 

"How much did you bet on this?" 

"1000 euro," Hana smirked. 

"Excellent." 

Riley and Maxwell were neck and neck, their kids cheering from the sidelines. 

"Last lap, Beaumont," Riley breathily laughed. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ri," he responded cheekily. 

Riley laughed and sped up. She passed him and he tried to speed up as well but instead lost his balance and fell on his face. Riley burst into giggles, falling onto the ice, dramatically, as well. The twins cheered, hugging their aunt tightly. 

"You beat Uncle Maxwell!" 

"I told you, Mom's the best!" 

"Thank you, thank you," Riley chuckled, bowing. 

...Meanwhile, Olivia was preparing Maxwell's sled as Ellie watched closely.

"So, it's a secret sled?" Ellie asked.  "What are you spraying on the bottom of the disk? 

"This," Olivia said, holding up a can. 

"What's that?" 

"Graphite oil spray. It's not even for sale in the Capital. It's just something I had on hand." 

"Nice," Ellie grinned. 

"Now, we just spray it on the sled and ...voila." 

"It's not gonna look too obvious, right?" 

"Don't worry," Olivia said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He won't know until he's already halfway down the hill.... and by then, it will be too late." 

"Perfect," Ellie said, clapping her hands together. 

"Now, we go over the plan again." 

"Exactly, good thinking." Olivia nodded. 

"And if it works, we get to win the bet with uncle Leo and uncle Drake? And they will have to be our personal butlers for a week?

"Yup." 

"But Uncle Drake and Uncle Leo will hate us forever." 

"Oh ... not forever," Olivia chuckled. "Just until the next competition. And they won't win that either. They will not be pleased." 

"This is mean." 

"It's a bit mean," Olivia cackled. 

"But I still think it's a great idea." 

"Good. Now, let's go over the plan again." 

❄️❄️❄️

As Liam, Leo and Alex was returning to the keep, the sun was setting and snow was falling gently from the sky. Riley and the kids were standing on the balcony of the grand suite, waiting for their arrival. 

"Look, boys," Riley said, pointing down the path. "There they are." 

"Where?" Stefan asked. 

"Right there." 

"Daddy!" William yelled. 

Liam looked up, waving to them. Riley and the kids waved back, the kids jumping up and down. 

"Daddy, Daddy!" They shouted. 

Liam walked noticeably faster, the other adults quickening their pace to keep up. He made it to the stairs, climbing them two steps at a time. Once he reached the top, the boys ran and leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. 

"Hi, Daddy," Stefan said. 

"Hi, boys," Liam chuckled. "Have you been good?" 

"Uh-huh." 

"Yeah, Daddy." 

"I'm so glad." 

"Did you have fun, Dad?" Riley asked, leaning against the rail. 

"I did," he said, nodding. "Leo almost fell off a tree, but other than that, we had a lot of fun." 

"Uncle Leo almost fell?" 

"Yeah." 

"That's hilarious!" 

"You're telling me." 

"Come on, boys," Riley said. "Let's give your father a break and get him some hot chocolate." 

"Hot chocolate!" They yelled, running down the hall. 

"Ahhhh ... there is my beautiful bride." Liam placed a sweet kiss on her cheek as Riley wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"I can't believe this will be our first year spending the holidays here since after our wedding ... and that was our first holiday as a married couple." 

"What special traditions will you make this year, love." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist. 

"I'm ready to make some new traditions with you." 

"Oh yeah, I can't wait, love. So, what did you and the twins do while we were gone?" Liam asked. 

"Went ice skating." Riley grinned.

"Oh really?" 

"Maxwell taught the boys how to skate," Riley said. "He kept them occupied while Amalas, Hana and I had some girl time." 

"Sounds like fun." 

"It was. How was your time with the other men?" 

"It was interesting," Liam chuckled. "Alex and Leo tried to make a tree fort, but Alex fell through the roof." 

"Wow." 

"Yeah." 

"So," she said, stepping closer to him. "Did you bring home the prize?" 

"We did," he nodded. "A 20 foot talon tree." 

"Excellent." 

"Mm-hm," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing her. 

"Come on," Riley said, taking his hand and pulling him to the hall. "Let's get you warmed up. I have a surprise for you." 

"Ooh, what is it?" 

"If I tell you, it's not a surprise, your Majesty." 

"Fair point," Liam chuckled, following her down the grand staircase. 

Once they were in the kitchen, Liam's eyes landed on the counter. 

"Is that...?" 

"Baklava," Riley said matter of factly. 

"Really?" 

"Really," she nodded and smiled coyly. "Made it this morning. Our new holiday tradition: freshly baked, homemade baklava." 

"Oh, baby, you are the best," Liam sighed. 

"I know," Riley giggled. 

"Mom!" 

Riley turned and saw her sons walking into the room. 

"Daddy, do you want to come sledding with us?" William asked. 

"Can't," Liam said, picking up a slice of baklava. "I've got business to take care of." 

"Oh, please," Riley said, looking up at him. "Come play with us." 

"You don't have to convince me," he chuckled, popping another bite into his mouth. 

"Yay! Come on, Daddy!" 

"Ok, ok," Liam laughed. 

They put their jackets and boots on and walked outside. 

Olivia, Ellie, Micaela and Alex were standing on top of a snow hill planning the race, surrounded by lots of freshly fallen snow. Drake, Maxwell, Hana Delaney, were chatting and drinking Lythikos nog. Leo and Amalas met Liam, Riley, William and Stefan to take them to watch the race.

"Are you ready?" Olivia called, looking down the hill. 

"Bring it!" Drake yelled. 

"Oh, you're gonna get it!" Ellie shouted. 

"Alright, let's start this," Maxwell said, clapping his hands. 

"Who's racing?" Maxwell asked. 

"Me, you, Auntie Laney, and Uncle Drake," Ellie said, hopping up and down. 

"Oh," Maxwell said. "Then it's three against one." 

"Yeah," Olivia smirked. "I'm rooting for my niece." 

"Same here," Amalas chuckled. 

"Oh, boy," Maxwell groaned. 

"You've got this, Ellie!" Micaela cheered. 

"We'll win this," Delaney said. 

"Suurre, you will," Drake said. 

"Oh, we will," Ellie countered, nodding. 

Alex placed the circular discs in a line, 10 feet apart for Ellie, Maxwell, Drake, and Delaney.

Olivia and Ellie looked at each other, smirking. 

"On your mark," Alex said, "Get set. Goooooo!" 

They pushed their sleds down the hill, the cold air hitting their faces. Olivia looked over and saw Maxwell's sled was flying down the hill, far ahead of the others. She and Ellie looked at each other, laughing. 

"He's gonna crash," Ellie said. 

"He's not gonna stop," Olivia chuckled. 

"You're right," she sighed. "He's gonna wipe out." 

"Hopefully he'll learn his lesson." 

"What lesson?" 

"Never bet against us," Olivia smirked. 

"Yeah," Ellie chuckled. 

As they neared the bottom of the hill, Olivia saw Maxwell's sled skid off the side, sending him flying into the air.

Maxwell was having a blast, the speed at which he was barreling down the hill was exhilarating.

"Woo-hoo!" He yelled. "I'm flying!" 

"Not for long!" Ellie laughed. 

"Huh?" 

Suddenly, Maxwell's sled flew off the side, sending him tumbling into a snowbank. 

"Maxwell!" Riley cried out, running to him. 

"Ouch," he groaned. 

"What happened?" Liam asked. 

"I don't know. My sled just shot off the hill." 

"He's fine," Riley said. "I'm sure it's not the end of the world." 

"Yeah," Maxwell nodded. 

"Oh, man," Ellie chuckled, nudging Olivia. "Good thing they can't prove anything." 

"I agree," Olivia whispered. 

"You are a bad influence, Liv" Riley said, noticing their devious expressions 

"Maybe." 

"Alright," Drake said, stepping next to the snowbank. "Who wants a turn?" 

"I do!" Ellie cried, leaping into the snow. 

Liam stepped up and stopped his daughter from lifting the fast disc.

"Ellie, hold on a second," Liam said calmly. 

"Why, Daddy?" 

"Because that's not a toy, and it's dangerous." 

"I can handle it," Ellie said. 

"You need to be careful." 

"I will be." 

"No, Ellie. Just use the slower sled." 

"But-" 

"I won't tell you again." 

"Fiiinne," Ellie groaned, trudging over to the slower sled. 

"You know, Li, you never used to be so strict," Leo said, stepping next to him. 

"Well, times have changed." 

"True." 

"I can't risk her getting hurt." 

"Of course not," Leo nodded. "But she's your daughter. She's gonna want to try new things and get out of her comfort zone." 

"I'm aware." 

"So maybe let her have a little more freedom. It's not going to kill her." 

"I'll think about it." 

"Good. But remember, we did a lot of stuff we shouldn't have when we were kids." 

"Exactly.” 

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents @kingliamappreciationweek @choicesholidays @choicesmonthlychallenge @choicesdecember2024 @choicesprompts

📌tags in the comments

[notiddygothgf]

World famous rock star Choso Kamo's new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him -- substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship.

(or; the one where an unstable musician meets an assistant with a savior complex).

❝I GOT A BRAND NEW PLACE, I THINK I'VE SEEN IT TWICE ALL YEAR. I CAN'T REMEMBER HOW IT LOOKS INSIDE, SO YOU CAN PICTURE HOW MY LIFE'S BEEN. I WENT FROM STARING AT THE SAME FOUR WALLS FOR TWENTY-ONE YEARS TO SEEING THE WHOLE WORLD IN JUST 12 MONTHS, BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG, I MIGHTA JUST FOUND GOD.

WELL, PROBABLY NOT, IF I KEEP MY HABITS UP AND PROBABLY NOT, IF I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH LOVIN'...PROBABLY NOT IF WE TAKE 'EM TO MY SPOT. PROBABLY NOT, IF I TWEAK ALL DAY JUST TO SLEEP AT NIGHT, GOD DAMN, I'M HIGH. MY DOCTOR TOLD ME TO STOP, AND HE GAVE ME SOMETHING TO POP. I MIX IT UP WITH SOME ADDERALLS AND I WAIT TO GET TO THE TOP.❝

╭─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╮

▷ prologue

▷ the interview

▷ behind the scenes

╰─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╯

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : jun 6, 2024

cover art credits: @/2OARIN on twitter

streaming... Kiss Land (The Weeknd).

cw/tags: rockstar!au, loosely based off of 'the idol', keyword very loosely... bc it sucked., slow burn, mutual pining, sassy reader, not really enemies to lovers but let's just say they drive eachother crazy. toxic relationship, but it gets better, mental instability, mental breakdowns, mentions of relapse (will include tw!), implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism, recreational drug use, implied/referenced drug addiction, HE GETS BETTER I SWEARRRR, eventual smut, sexual tension, explicit sexual content, oral sex, doggy style, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, questionable decisions just like all around, dark romance, reader is a little delusional (me too its ok), rough sex, rough kissing, rough angry sex, just read it it'll be a sexy and amazing time, choso my beloved you can do no wrong, except maybe in this particular fanfic, LISTEN TO KISS LAND BY THE WEEKND.