#smoke x mirrors

[modaonlinemagazalari]

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

Smoke X Mirrors

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter nine - final

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: 3.7k

Chris had never bought a girl flowers before, so he was anything but confident when he walked into the local flower shop not far from his home, finally building up the courage to ask the girl he had fallen head over heels with on a date. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he hung on every word she said, wanting to make her feel valued and heard when she spoke. He couldn’t imagine finding any girl prettier than her, it was impossible in his head.

When he finally picked out a bouquet, he paid happily with his allowance money that he’d saved for a couple of months now, wanting it to be the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever received. It made him giddy, knowing he was finally going to get an answer as to if she felt the same.

He kept the flowers hidden in his locker for the day, waiting until the end of the day to finally tell his dream girl how he felt. His nerves almost got the best of him, but he told himself it was now or never. He had to make his move.

But he couldn’t find her. Anywhere. He had looked in every room she could possibly be in, he had looked out front, he had even asked a girl to check the bathroom for him to see if she was hiding out with some friends. But it was to no avail.

Finally, as a last ditch effort, he decided to check the fields, see if she was hanging around waiting for football practice to start. She was so social and knew at least one person in every sport, so she loved to show support any time she could. He loved how supportive she was of her friends and their interests, even if she didn’t care for it herself, she was always around to let her friends know she had their back. She was so kind.

He was about to give up, for real this time, maybe just bring the flowers to her house later in the day, when he saw movement under the bleachers, and without thinking anything of it he peeked under, feeling like his heart audibly shattered in his ears when his eyes landed on you locking lips with some asshole jock that could never treat you right.

He couldn’t believe it. He was too late. He had missed his chance with you, and now he was just a fool standing around with a bouquet of flowers for nobody.

He quickly turned and started walking away, knowing he needed to get home as quickly as possible. His heart was broken, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

When he finally arrived home after walking by himself, he looked for the only woman he knew would never break his heart, finding his mom in the kitchen starting to cook dinner. He walked up to her and handed her the flowers, smiling sadly up at her.

She grinned wide, not seeing how sad her son was in the moment, eyes locked on the beautiful arrangement of flowers in front of her. “Wow!” She exclaimed. “What’s this for, baby?”

Chris handed them off to her before wrapping his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. “You deserve it, mama.”

He has never and will never let his mom know how much that hug meant to him, and the tear that slipped out and landed on her shirt will always be his secret.

-

If having to love you in silence was suffering enough, loving you loudly and losing you was a million times worse.

Some moments he thought it might be easier to just run away from his life and start over, but nothing would rid him of the thought of you.

When he found himself at the flower shop, he couldn’t help but feel like the fifteen year old version of himself, pining over a girl he’d never get to call his own, desperately trying to win her over with a few words and a bouquet of flowers.

But he wasn’t going to let you slip so easily this time. This time he was willing to put up the fight.

-

Days had passed of Chris trying to contact you any way he could. Texts, calls, FaceTimes all ringing through your phone at almost every hour of the day, all going completely ignored by you, not having the energy to text him back, not wanting to open that wound just yet.

You knew you’d have to talk to him eventually, you couldn’t ignore him forever.

Matt had texted as well, trying to make sure you were okay, wanting to see if you needed anything, but you didn’t want to talk to him either. He had remained neutral through everything, but he was still too close to Chris for comfort right now.

You had spent the last few days cooped up in your apartment, either sleeping on your couch or your bed, not having the energy to do anything, barely even eating. You weren’t even hungry and couldn’t be bothered to make food that you wouldn’t even want to eat anyway, so you just rotted away with your thoughts, asking yourself over and over how you were so stupid to believe someone like Chris.

So many questions flowed through your head over those days. Why would he tell you he didn’t want to talk to her anymore? Why would he confess to you just to keep seeing other people? Why would he damn near tell you he loves you just to ruin everything?

Part of you hated Nick for ruining everything but another part of you was grateful to him for pulling the cover from your eyes, literally. If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be with Chris, sneaking around his brothers while the whole time he was sneaking around you.

You knew it was awful for you to do, but the first night when you got home, you found this Maya girl on instagram, scrolling through endless photos of a girl who you thought was so much prettier than you you almost couldn’t be mad at Chris for not being able to let her go. Of course he’d choose her, she was perfect. They still followed each other, too. Even after all of this, after you had found out, he still followed her. Maybe you were looking into this too deeply, but in your brokenhearted mind it all made sense.

Your phone rang again from where it was next to you on the couch, Chris’s name and a selfie you guys had taken together lighting up the screen. Every time you saw that picture your heart tightened in your chest. You both looked so happy, smiling wide like there was no place you’d rather be. You had no idea how things went so bad so quickly. Part of you wishes you could’ve lived in ignorance forever, never to find out the truth about Chris’s antics. You would’ve been so much happier.

“Stop tickling me, I want to take a picture!” You squeal at Chris, body curling away from him as his fingertips attacked your sides, something he couldn’t stop doing now that he knew you were ticklish, wanting to hear your loud giggles for the rest of his life.

“No pictures!” He opposes, but stops tickling you, pulling your body close to his where he stood.

You guys were out on what you guess you could call a date, exploring parts of the city you hadn’t seen before, popping into small gift shops occasionally, grabbing ice cream and little snacks you had come across throughout the day. You both had just left dinner and were just walking around now, you taking photos of whatever caught your eye, but now you wanted a photo of the two of you for your contact photo and just for the memory as well. You didn’t have many photos together yet, but you loved looking through the few that you had when you were alone, most of them either goofy photos of Chris or photos of him with the biggest smile in the world, lighting up your face every time you saw them.

“Please! Just one, I swear.” You beg him. He had his arms wrapped you from behind and his chin on your shoulder where he groaned loudly, which you giggled at, knowing he was about to agree.

“One,” he tells you and you squeal, bringing your phone up in front of you guys.

“Smile!” You tell him and he obliges, both of you smiling as wide as you can, him with his eyes clenched shut. You couldn’t help it, you snapped a few, continuing to take pictures when he turned his head into your neck and peppered kisses there before he turned back to the camera and flipped it off with a deadpan look on his face, making you laugh loudly as you put your phone away.

The memory fades from your mind as the call goes to voicemail, the fourth one today.

You couldn’t help but miss Chris, miss the way he made you feel. You didn’t understand how things turned bad so quickly when they were so good, good to the point where you thought for sure you had locked him down.

You groan to yourself, rubbing your eyes harshly, noticing the tears flowing intermittently from them. “Fuck,” you huff, annoyed at yourself.

You throw your lap blanket off of you and stand up from the couch, walking to your bathroom to wash your face, wanting to rid yourself of the days and days of tears, deciding it’s time to get over yourself and get back to life, not wanting to sit around and wallow over this boy who clearly didn’t care about you in the first place.

You’re just stepping into the bathroom when your doorbell rings, startling you. You whip your head around to the sound, heart racing. There was only one person that could be. He hadn’t tried coming to your home yet, only trying to contact you via phone, so you were unsure how you would get out of this. There was no way you could pretend you weren’t home, your car was right outside.

You wipe your face with your hands and walk to the door, standing directly in front of it. “Go away,” you say sternly, crossing your arms.

“Please let me in,” Chris pleads from the other side of the door.

“No,” you reply. “Go home.”

You hear Chris sigh loudly, then a small crinkle. “I’m already here, just let me explain, please. It’s not what you think.”

You debate it for a moment, wondering if you need the closure, but knowing you’re not ready yet. “Chris, leave. I don’t want to see you. Go bother your other fucking girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. That’s the first time you’ve even slightly referred to yourself as his girlfriend, and the circumstances of it almost made you laugh.

Chris is silent for a few beats, thinking of what to say next before he speaks again. “Let me in and let me explain and if by the end of it you never want to talk to me again I’ll respect that and leave you alone. I just can’t handle you thinking I would hurt you like that when I never would. Please.”

You consider it. If he’s serious and he would leave you alone, it might be worth it. Plus, you would get an explanation as to why he thought you’d never find out, why he thought you were the perfect person to hurt so badly.

You remain silent as you unlock the door, peeling it open slowly to reveal a disheveled Chris staring back at you. His hair was in his face, his face unshaven since you left, eyes red and puffy. Your eyes trail down to where he’s holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, wondering how on earth he knew what they were.

He holds them out to you and you just look back up at him, turning around and heading back in, going back to your couch and flopping down, waiting for him to reach you.

You hear the door shut and shoes being taken off before you see him again where he’s walking through your living room, placing the flowers down gently on the coffee table before he sits next to you, taking a deep breath.

“Is there anything you want to know specifically?” He asks you, to which you scoff out a laugh at, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d love to know why you played the fuck out of me while the whole time you were fucking somebody else behind my back. I’d love to know how you even had the fucking time when I was sleeping over almost every night, and the days I wasn’t there, you were here.” You snap at him, voice quivering as you speak. You couldn’t help it, you were sad and confused and the confrontation only made it worse. “You made me look like a fucking idiot not only to myself but in front of your brothers, too, and that is so fucking mean, Chris. I should’ve known it wasn’t all an act, you really are a fucking dick to me. There’s no way you could’ve treated me like that for the last however many years and it not be real.”

Chris sucks in a breath at the insult, your words feeling like a dagger to his heart. “It’s not true,” he croaks out. “Nick was wrong, he didn’t know what he was talking about.”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “You got caught, Chris, and now you’re trying to pick up the pieces. It’s over.”

Chris felt lightheaded, that sentence echoing loudly in his head. It’s over. It couldn’t be over, you guys still have so much more life to live together.

“No,” he starts, scooting closer. “No, no, you said you’d hear me out so hear me out. You’ve got this all wrong, Nick was wrong. I wasn’t seeing anybody but you, I wasn’t sleeping with anybody but you, you’re it for me, you’re my dream girl, please believe me.” Chris was full on pleading now, his own eyes welling with tears as he spoke. “I cannot lose you, you don’t understand how deep this runs for me. I’ll let you go through my phone, my texts, my instagram, fucking anything just to prove to you.”

You have to tear your eyes away from the begging boy beside you, afraid you’ll give in too easily if you stare him in the face. “Say whatever you want to say and then get out of my house.” You tell him, voice monotone.

Chris releases a shaky breath, knowing this is the only chance he’ll get. “Okay. I guess I’ll just tell you what I think you should know. I would never hurt you like that, I would never risk losing you for something so stupid like a date or sex. I’ve been thinking about you being mine for so long that even I wouldn’t be so dumb, I swear to you. The date Nick was talking about was a business meeting for my brand, he just assumed because he saw I was out to dinner and didn’t know where I was. I told you about that dinner, I literally left your place to go there. I already talked to him about it and he feels really bad for making you think that I was on a date. And the girl? Maya? I haven’t talked to her since before the wedding, she hasn’t even texted me, and I‘ll show you my phone, we haven’t talked. But I kept leaving and not coming back for hours or coming home with hickeys and they kept noticing so I had to tell them I was somewhere and I just said I was seeing her because you still wanted this to be between us.” Chris finally pauses and looks at you with a soft expression, hoping you would believe him. You didn’t speak though, staying still where you sat with your hands in your lap. “I could never live with myself if I lost you in such a stupid way.”

Your lip quivered and you dropped your eyes down to your hands, not wanting to cry again for the umpteenth time, especially in front of Chris, but the wave that hit you made it inevitable, a small, choked sob leaving your lips. “Why wouldn’t you say anything right then?” You ask him brokenly.

Chris scoots closer and places a hand on your thigh, other hand reaching for your cheek to pull your face up to his. “I was stunned in the moment, it all happened so fast. I didn’t even process anything until I had Nick damn near in a chokehold and Matt was trying to calm me down. He told me to give you space and that you needed time away so neither of us said something we don’t mean.”

You turn to face Chris, tears flowing freely from your eyes now as he spoke, emotions taking over. “I was so sad, Chris. I still am. I’ve been sitting here wallowing in my feelings for fucking days just thinking about how badly this hurt and how hard I fell for you.”

Chris’s thumb brushes over your cheek, listening to your words intently. “I know, baby, I know and I’m so sorry. I really am. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Why would you even think of bringing her up? Why did she even come to your mind when they asked you where you were? You could’ve just said you were with a girl but the fact that you told them you were with her is like… a punch to the face.” You tell him sadly, wiping your tears frustratedly. “Is she still on your mind?”

Chris immediately shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed. “No, absolutely not. She’s just.. sorry, she’s the last person I slept with and they knew about her so it was the easiest thing so they didn’t ask questions. She’s definitely not on my mind.”

You think over his words, still feeling apprehensive about it all, but wanting nothing more than to believe him. “I just don’t understand why you let me leave under the impression that you were seeing somebody else, Chris. It just makes me think you took these days to think of a good enough lie before coming here.”

Chris sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. “I told you, I just panicked. I swear on everything, I swear on my brothers, baby, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You finally allow yourself to take in Chris’s disheveled appearance, realizing he looked just as bad as you did. He looked miserable.

“It’s gonna take a lot for me to fully trust you again but… I want to believe you so bad. So I do.” You tell him quietly. You’ve never seen such relief on Chris’s face before this moment, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips curled, a breath of relief falling from his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching both hands out towards you in the hopes you’d close the gap between you both. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise.”

You sniffle and nod, scooting closer so that you could swing your legs over his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. The room is quiet for a few moments, Chris gently rubbing your thigh with one hand while he held you close with the other, before you clear your throat gently. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” You ask timidly.

Chris looks down at you, sucking in a deep breath. He knew this was the moment where he told you how he really felt and how deep it actually ran.

“You and Matt had a conversation a couple years ago and you guys were talking about flowers and you said these were your favorite, so I remembered in the hopes of getting to buy you them some day,” Chris starts out. “I don’t know if you remember when we went on that date and you yelled at me saying I didn’t know anything about you?”

You nod against his shoulder, prompting him to continue.

“I always made plans on your birthday because I thought you wouldn’t want me around. I always made sure I was busy, just so I didn’t have to deal with the disappointment of not being invited somewhere. I’ve always known when it is.” He sighs nervously, swallowing before continuing. “There’s a canvas in my room and it’s just all different shades of the same color; I’ve had it for about a year. I painted it after you posted this one photo to your instagram, the one where you have no makeup on and you’re facing the sun. I thought your eyes looked so pretty in that picture and I couldn’t tell you, so I painted them instead. Baby, I have been painfully in love with you for years and I’m not about to lose you over some stupid shit my brother said.”

You were blown away by his words, not even being able to comprehend someone being so head over heels for you that they’d do these things for you and suffer in silence, all because he thought your feelings towards him were nothing but negative. How would you possibly be able to stay away from him ever again, knowing what you know now?

You didn’t think you wanted to.

Chris slid you off his lap and sat you facing forward on the couch, moving to get on his knees in front of you, hands grabbing your own and holding them close to his chest. “I love you,” he tells you, not a shadow of a doubt in his voice. “I want to do this. For real.”

You stared down at the man in front of you, broken at the thought of losing you, but fulfilled at the thought of calling you his. It seemed like a no brainer.

“I guess I could suffer through being your girlfriend a little bit longer,” you tease, a smile lighting up your face.

Chris grinned with you, pushing himself up until your faces were aligned, lips molding together like you were made for each other.

Turns out your love wasn’t all smoke and mirrors.

-

a/n: (‘:

my babies are finally together

i’m so happy this is over!

thanks so much for all the love <3

feel free to send requests based on these characters or requests for new fics I love u guys so much always

- avery

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @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 @mattsside @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

[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

[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

Overview Smoke and Mirrors

Blog Masterlists

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

[mama-ships]

Wip for a certain fanfic~

@sinclairmaxwellao3 @cyborgfoxcripple

[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!

[burnt-by-marigolds]

Dark Smoke and Empty Mirrors – WIP snippet #3

The crunch of dirt and debris under careful footsteps warned Yae someone was approaching even before he heard the lilting darling, it's me and the rustle of the tent’s flap. 

“Do you mind?” the half-elf snapped from between the covers. “You're letting light in!”

“Yes, yes, just give me a second–” The flap swished back down. “You know, sometimes I could swear you're the vampire in this relationship. Don’t you have your blindfold, excuse me, sleep mask on?”

“So? It doesn't fit perfectly. There's a tiny slit,” Yae grumbled and shifted in his bedroll – not to face the visitor, but to bury himself deeper in the blankets. People always found it hard to believe just how sensitive he could be. “What do you want?”

Astarion’s cocky façade didn’t crumble one bit. Still, something about the other man's frail state ruffled him. He didn't want to see Yae suffer; he needed to see him strong. The vampire knew for certain the warlock wasn't weak – the power he wielded against enemies! And yet…

He pushed the intrusive thoughts aside.

“Honestly, you surprise me,” the words carried a very precise weight of nonchalance. “You always act like you’re the only person with an intact brain inside your pretty head, and yet when you feel sick, all you do is wrap that silly cloth over your face and hide away from the world.” Another sound followed the rogue’s words, a more dry and crinkly one, like… a sheet of parchment? Yae huffed.

“Oh, I have pursued many solutions already, both preternatural and mundane. I even dared to ask my patron to show some clemency, but the magic they grant me isn't exactly of curative nature.”

“Patron-shmatron,” Astarion snorted. “The powers don’t care about the well-being of their subjects, I thought you already knew that. But speaking of magic – have you talked to Gale?”

“Yes.” Yae sighed. He realized the vampire wanted to help, but the underlying suggestion – even if not deliberate – that the warlock hadn’t tried hard enough to resolve the matter still annoyed him. “He proposed casting Leomund’s Tiny Hut and filling it with darkness. The problem is, I can’t work the spell myself, and if he does, he’d be stuck with me for several hours, which is… far from ideal.”

“Is it? Say a word, and I’ll drag him here and tie him to a pole,” Astarion offered with mock gallantry mixed with a drop of sultriness. “Of all the people in this group one could share a tent with, he’s not the worst choice.”

Yae groaned.

“No!”

The vampire let out a snicker. Right, the grumpy little pet wasn’t a fan of suggestive jokes. Now probably even less than ever.

“Apologies.” The sick half-elf couldn’t see it, but he was certain Astarion flashed him a not-so-repentant smile. “On second thought, maybe it’s not such a brilliant idea. I mean, you two would probably get lost in some incredibly boring, unnecessarily convoluted arcane dispute and you’d forget entirely about my existence.”

The unconvinced hum from between the blankets clearly indicated the warlock doubted if the feat was ever possible.

⊱✿⊰

Dark Smoke and Empty Mirrors WIP snippets: snippet #1, snippet #2.

[practically-an-x-man]

lol understandable! tell me about the Celtic AU first then pleeeeease! <3333

Oooooh you got it!!!

Here's the link to that AU idea one more time, and here's the original ask game that sparked it

(also I'm using the Gaeilge forms of their names to make it somewhere near historically-accurate, so Alex is Alsander and Madison is Maitín)

____

His skin still smoked in wake of the battle. The sun beat down on him, heavy upon his shoulders and scorching his already pink and blistered flesh. He had been wandering for some time now, leaving blood and burnt earth far behind him.

Alsander mag Shamhradháin was perhaps the strongest warrior since the time of Cú Chulainn, and held just as much of the sun's power beneath his skin.

But still he was human, and in battle he had overexerted himself.

As he wandered, he felt as though he had been scoured. Something within was now burnt, and every step brought him pain. He'd have given the world to find water or ice, something to cool the sun's radiance from where it cast flames within him.

Every battle was like this. It was not only his enemies that came and saw and conquered. Alsander was a dominating force, a near-god who brought the heat of battle into its most literal, though he felt more of himself crumble to ash with every time he spread his flames.

Exhausted, on the brink of collapse, he hardly noticed the river until he was ankle-deep in its frigid water. The far side of his mind, what remained that was still human, warned him of illness and water to the lungs. But that smoking, cracked husk, what was burnt and blackened from the flames, saw the water only as a temptation.

Alsander simply crumbled.

His consciousness lapsed, and he dreamed he saw a woman drifting through the icy depths. She seemed to be made of glass, some ethereal beauty nearly vanishing into the water around her, and her touch brought cooling relief as she stroked his blistered skin. Then came her lips, pressing breath into his lungs when he nearly drowned, her touch both giving and greedy.

He woke on the shores, cool water still lapping at his skin. What was scoured within him now felt cooled, tamed, brought into dormancy until at least the next battle. The sun above him had been shielded behind thick gray clouds, though no rain yet fell. Alsander felt cold, though cold as in the first snow of winter. It had been long since he'd felt anything but heat.

What he'd thought was the tide instead resolved itself into a human touch, chilly fingers walking gently across his bare chest. Alsander brought himself to wakefulness and found his glass-woman sitting above him.

"A burned man chooses to drown in my river," she murmured, "Yet he is the only thing that has let my river remain my own."

"Your river?" he echoed, still too entranced to find the words he wished to speak. She did not seem so glasslike in the light, not so invisible, but shapes like sunlit water danced across her skin. Her hair and eyes seemed like the surface of the river itself, a reflective gray that showed him his own visage.

"My river," she repeated again, "Having not been claimed by their Lympha or their Camenae. You scoured them before they could reach me. I thank you for that."

There came that word again. Scoured. The same scouring light that festered within him, the same light that had defended these borders and swept battalions into their fields of purgatory. She knew what lay deep in his chest, beyond his heart.

"Your name?" he asked, and sat up to find that his skin was clear and undamaged. If he could not still smell the smoke lingering high in the air, he'd have imagined the battle had never happened.

"Maitín Dubhghlas," she said, "Of the Abhainn na Sionainne. And yours?"

"Alsander mag Shamhradháin," he replied, "Of Lugh."

[faline-cat444]

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

[kora-lene]

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

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter seven

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: 3.8k

It’s been a long time since you’ve woken up next to somebody, apart from a friend after spending the night, or even Matt, as you’d spent many nights in his bed, but you’d never woken up touching him, always staying at opposite sides of the bed, so it was definitely out of the ordinary when your eyes fluttered open and landed on a figure next to you.

It took you a moment to clear your head and remember where you were, focusing on the way your body was chest to chest with another, arms wrapped loosely around you and holding you close, your own arm draped over his waist. It didn’t take you long to register that it was Chris’s soft breaths coming from above you where your face was pressed into his chest.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but it didn’t last long when you finally processed the pounding in your head, causing you to groan quietly. “Fuck…” you mumble, pulling away from Chris to roll onto your back, trying not to jostle him too much, but you were unsuccessful, Chris’s hand reaching forward to rest on your stomach, thumb starting to brush over the skin softly.

“I don’t wanna open my eyes,” Chris grumbles, sliding his hand to your waist to pull you back into him, you still laying on your back. His cheek came to rest on your shoulder and you brought your hand up to caress his arm strewn across you.

“Don’t do it, bad idea,” you tell him, turning your head to look at his face for the first time. His hair was sticking up in every direction, though it still looked adorable, and he even had a small white line coming from his mouth and over his cheek, making you giggle quietly. “You drool in your sleep?”

Chris finally peeks one eye open, glaring at you. “I didn’t say anything about you drooling last night.”

Your mouth falls open, cheeks turning red at his words. “Don’t be crude,” you tell him quietly. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

Chris closes his eye again, smirking. “Yeah, right. That was the best sex of your life. Good luck getting over it.”

You pout and turn your body back towards Chris, swinging your leg over his hip. His hand immediately and almost habitually lands on your thigh, rubbing the skin up and down in a comforting manner. “My head hurts, Chris. Can you go buy me tylenol from downstairs?”

Chris groans, leaning in closer to tuck his face in your neck, gently pressing his lips to the front of your throat. “Don’t wanna get outta bed yet,” he tells you, muffled by your skin. “I know what can help with a headache.”

His hand slides up your hip, over your waist, and then comes forward, trailing over your stomach, causing goosebumps to arise. “What are you doing?” You whisper.

Chris slips his hand between your legs and runs his fingers through your folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I’m helping you with your headache,” he says, smile evident in his voice. He nuzzles his head in a little further and parts his lips to start sucking a mark into your skin.

“Chris, hickeys are so-,” your words are cut off by a small gasp, eyes fluttering shut as his middle fingers dip inside you, still slightly wet from last night. “Trashy,” you finish, breathless.

Chris hums, fingers working slowly inside of you. “Stop me then,” he tells you, knowing you wouldn’t.

You huff, and despite your words you tilt your head for Chris to have better access to your neck, letting him continue to pepper your neck with kisses and purple marks.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Chris tells you, pulling his face back. You open your eyes and look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He just smiled at your expression and leaned forward, pressing your lips together firmly but still softly, slipping his fingers out of you to circle your clit, causing a moan to slip through your nose, your leg wrapped around Chris trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you mumble against his mouth, sliding your arm around his torso, then turning your body onto your back, pulling him with you so he was hovering above you. “Please?”

Chris pulled away from the kiss and smiled down at you, bringing his hands up to rest on either side of your head. “How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

You smile up at him shyly, the newfound dynamic between you both still making you nervous. You guys had almost never made eye contact with each other before, barely even speaking to one another unless it was to shoot an insult towards the other, and to go from that to this was such a stark difference and it made you feel even more vulnerable and naked in front of him. However, you didn’t feel insecure. If anything, you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in this position. You felt safe, cared for. The way his eyes locked onto yours from above you made you feel like he saw you in a way no one else ever had before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

Your legs spread for Chris to rest between, your hand coming down to stroke him a few times, causing him to let out a quiet moan, arms tensing on either side of you. “Don’t be gun shy now, baby,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

Chris chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “Not gun shy, just tryna not bust the second I put it in.”

You laugh, using the tips of your fingers to guide his dick towards your entrance. “You have the vocabulary of a twelve year old.”

Chris grimaces, staying still. “Can you not compare me to a twelve year old right now?”

You only laugh harder, throwing your head back into the pillow. “If you just fuck me I’ll shut up!”

Chris groans, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. “I pride myself on how long I last so forgive me for not wanting to finish as soon as we start.”

You roll your eyes, staring up at him where he looked down at you, his eyebrows raised in a ‘duh’ expression. “Yeah but now you’re fucking the girl you’ve dreamed of fucking for years so I think it’s acceptable if you finish fast. C’mon, I neeeed it.” You draw out your words in a whiny tone, trying to pull him in again with your legs.

You’re still giggling when Chris finally pushes inside of you, bottoming out in one go, making you gasp, mood switching instantly. “Fuck, Chris,” you breathe, reaching up to grab his shoulders.

“Now stop running your mouth and shut the fuck up, please,” Chris demands, pulling out slowly and pushing back in just as slow, trying to make sure he lasts as long as possible.

“Y-yes, daddy,” you say in a teasing tone, biting your lip and staring up at Chris with an almost innocent look in your eyes.

Fuck, Chris thinks.

His jaw drops as his hips stutter inside you, his cheeks blushing a deep red.

Your eyes widen and a shit eating grin graces your face, pushing your elbows underneath you to prop yourself up.

“No,” you start in an accusing tone.

“I’m sorry,” Chris replies. “It’s not what you think-“

“I think it’s exactly what I think.”

“It’s not-!”

“A daddy kink?”

“No!”

“You just came the second I called you daddy.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to last!”

You squeal out a laugh, pressing your lips into Chris’s cheek. “You are a dirty, dirty boy, Christopher Owen. Filthy.”

Chris groans and pulls out of you, pushing you down on the bed harshly. “You talk too fucking much, has anyone ever told you that?”

You bounce on the bed slightly as he shoves you, still looking up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “A few times, mostly you I think.”

“Yeah, well. You do. You’d really benefit from shutting the fuck up sometimes.” Chris tells you, slowly scooting down the bed.

You were happy to see that the teasing hadn’t completely disappeared, it just had a sweeter undertone to it now, knowing you guys weren’t actually trying to hurt each others’ feelings. “Weren’t telling me to be quiet last night,” you retort sassily.

“I actually liked the shit coming out of your mouth last night,” Chris tells you, lowering himself onto his stomach in between your legs. His mouth latched onto your thigh, kissing softly. “‘Chris, don’t stop, Chris, I’m so close, Chris, you’re so big, mmm, Chris, I’m squirting everywhere’.” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice, placing kisses on your thigh between every sentence.

You pout and look down at him to see him smirking back at you, his arms wrapped around your thighs. “Hey,” you whine. “I was embarrassed, that’s never happened with somebody before.”

He just smiles and dips his head down, watching his own release dripping out of you slowly. “And it’ll never happen with anyone else. Only me, right? This pussy’s all mine.” He dips down and finally attaches his lips to your entrance, groaning at the taste that he already missed so badly.

You moan and drop your head back into the pillow, bringing your hand up to tangle in his messy hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp thoughtfully. “All yours,” you sigh, lightly grinding your hips into his mouth. “That’s.. fuck, that feels so good, you eat me so well.” You praise.

Chris just hums against your clit, making you moan even louder, knowing it’s not going to take you long to finish if he kept this up. “Can I have your fingers, too? Please?”

Chris knew he’d probably never be able to say no to you again in his life, not when you sounded so good asking so nicely, so he squeezed your thigh with his right hand before snaking it around and towards your entrance, easily slipping two fingers back inside you, making you arch your back into him, moans growing louder.

“Right there, fuck, I’m so close,” you whine, head pushing back into the pillow and hips pressing down harder into him, your jaw going slack and breath catching in your throat as you came, fingers grasping Chris’s hair and thighs shaking around his head.

He continued to work his tongue and lips on your clit as you came, fingers fucking you through your orgasm. You finally let out the breath you were holding after a few moments, using your hand to push Chris’s head away from you, making him laugh. “You okay?” He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

You nod and clamp your legs shut, whimpering quietly. “Done,” you say simply, and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bed sheets.

He crawls back up to your face and places a kiss on your nose, meeting your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “You are so fucking sexy, you know that?”

You shake your head in disagreement, looking away from Chris, embarrassed. He was having none of that, though. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes back to his. “I’m serious. To me, you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ll tell you that shit every day until you believe me. I’ll eat you out, fuck you, touch you, anywhere you want, just so you know.”

You smile meekly, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks,” you whisper. Chris nods and squeezes your cheeks together to pout out your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly.

“How’s your head?” He asks when he pulls away, making you laugh.

“Never had any complaints,” you say, giggling through your words, making Chris drop his head between his shoulders, muttering a quiet ‘oh my fucking god’ under his breath. “Good, actually. I just really want a cheeseburger now.” You say honestly, making Chris laugh.

“Alright, well, get up and get dressed and I’ll buy you as many cheeseburgers as you want.” Chris climbs out of bed and starts rummaging through the room to find your guys’ discarded clothes strewn around the hotel room.

-

You parked your car outside the triplets’ house, turning your head to smile at Chris, who pouted back at you. “Do you have to go home?” He asks, sounding like a little kid who didn’t get their way.

You laugh at the tone of his voice. “Yeah, I desperately need to shower and take off my makeup. Plus, my hair’s a mess, I stink, and I’m covered in hickeys. I need to put makeup on these before I come over otherwise they’re going to know.”

Chris groaned and leaned over the center console, placing his right hand on your thigh covered by your dress from last night, sliding his hand up underneath the fabric. “You could shower with me,” he tells you, leaning into you and pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Let them find out, who cares?”

You grab Chris’s wrist and push it away, making him pull his face away as well. “I care,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to just tell them we’re fucking, I want to have a real conversation with you about what we’re doing first. What if you decide you don’t want me and go back to being a dick? Then it’ll have been a waste to tell them and now it’s awkward between everybody.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as you speak, feeling slightly offended. “I want you,” he starts, voice serious. “I’m never going to not want you and it’s not just fucking to me. So if you need time that’s okay but don’t ever think that I don’t want you because I do.”

You let out a small breath of relief and nod, smiling shyly at Chris. “Okay,” you whisper. “I still want to wait, especially to tell Matt. He deserves more than just me looking a mess to tell him I slept with his little brother.”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyed. “I am not his little brother, he just came out first.”

“Which makes him older.”

“Does not.”

“Definitely does.”

“Does not!”

“You sure sound like an annoying little brother right now,” you tell Chris, eyebrows raised. He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“You’re annoying,” he mumbles, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, whatever. Go inside so I can shower please, I feel disgusting.” Your eyes rake over your body, trying to not focus on the way the bottoms of your feet were dirty from not wearing your heels, or how your underwear were thrown in the backseat, leaving you completely naked under this dress.

Chris wipes off his grumpy pout and looks back at you. “Can you come over later? I can sneak you in through the door in my room and we can watch a movie or something. We obviously don’t have to have sex I just really want to see you.”

You feel your ears start to heat up at his words, feeling giddy at the fact that he really did want to see you and spend time together. You couldn’t really fully believe this was happening, but you weren’t complaining at all. You nod your head, a closed mouth smile blooming on your lips.

“Great,” Chris smiles, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips, hand reaching up to rest on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re home. I’ll text you once my brothers go to their rooms and you can spend the night.”

You kiss Chris one more time, leaning into him gently. “Okay,” you tell him once you’ve pulled away. “I’ll see you later.”

Chris nods in agreement and lets himself out of the car, waving at you from the doorway before it shuts and he disappears.

You stare at the door for a few moments before turning back to stare at your steering wheel, a small, excited giggle leaving your lips as you process everything that has happened over the last twelve hours, finding it a bit hard to believe.

Your phone pings from where it sat in your cup holder, ripping you from your thoughts. You grab it and look at the lockscreen, laughing loudly when you read the message.

from: chris sturns

‘i miss you’

-

It’s dark out now, but you weren’t super tired as you took a pretty long nap after your shower, still a little hungover despite your efforts to kick it, however now that you’d slept you feel like a new person.

You were sat on your couch snuggled up under a blanket when you got a text, and it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was from.

‘come over’

You giggle when you read it, starting to type back.

from: you

‘you come here, i’m comfy’

from: chris sturns

‘i don’t have a car’

from: you

‘that’s never stopped you before’

The messages stopped there and you assumed maybe Chris had given in and ordered an uber to come over, but when ten minutes had passed, fifteen even, and you hadn’t heard from him, you think maybe he just didn’t want to argue and gave up.

You don’t think much of it, not really minding whether he came over or not, but the sound of your bell ringing startles you, heart picking up pace slightly. You throw your large blanket off of you and stand up, walking quickly to your front door.

You’re shocked when you pull it open and see an out of breath Chris standing there, bracing himself on the doorframe as he heaved. “Chris?!” You squeal. “Why are you breathing like that? Why are you… damp?”

Chris swallows thickly, meeting your eyes. “I… ran,” he chokes out. “Thought I was still… in shape… I’m not.”

You laugh loudly, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him inside. “Why did you run?!”

Chris kicks his shoes off, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t want to wait for an uber and I couldn’t ask Matt. I thought you were way closer. Never doing that again.”

“You’re so dumb, Chris, now you’re all sweaty and gross!” You tell him, walking back to the couch and sitting down, legs crossed.

“‘M not that sweaty, it’ll go away.” Chris sits next to you and reaches out for you, which you happily respond to, swinging over to straddle his lap, smiling down at him.

“I missed you,” he tells you, head leaning on the back of the couch as he looks at you, hands rubbing over the tops of your thighs.

“I missed you, too,” you coo, one hand threading through his hair sweetly. “It’s so weird to hear you be so nice to me. Feel like I entered an alternate reality or something.”

Chris chuckles. “I have a lot of time to make up so get used to it.”

You hum and lean down, pressing your lips to Chris’s gently, feeling your body relax into him as you kissed, like you’ve been waiting all day to feel his touch again.

The kiss stayed sweet and tender, your lips moving together slowly as his hands trailed over your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Chris pulls away first, licking his lips as his eyes reopened and landed on your face. “Wanna watch a movie? I could order us some food.”

You nod your head eagerly. “Haven’t eaten since earlier, that sounds good.”

Which is exactly what led to you and Chris sitting on your bed with a large towel laid out in front of you guys, way too much food splayed out on top of it, and a movie playing on your tv that was mounted on the wall.

“We are not going to finish this,” you garble, mouth full of fries.

Chris laughs at you and covers his mouth, looking at you where you sat next to him, a smile on your face despite the fact that you were chewing. “Gross, dude, close your mouth.”

You only laugh more, reaching out to shove his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

Chris smirks, reaching his hand out to cup over your clothed core, causing you to squeal in shock. “Later,” he says, kissing your cheek. “That’s what the towel’s for, right? Gonna show me your party trick again?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “No! No party trick! How bout I tell your brothers about your party trick?”

Chris laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. “What’s my party trick?”

“The one where you bust as soon as a girl says daddy.” You say, deadpan.

Chris rolls his eyes. “It’s not because a girl called me daddy, that’s happened plenty of times, it’s because you called me daddy and I already told you I wasn’t gonna last. You’re too sexy for me, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” you groan, stuffing more fries in your mouth. “Hey, did you turn your location off?” You ask, remembering that his brothers had both of your locations on and if they saw he was here, they’d find you two out immediately.

Chris hums, pulling his phone out and showing you the back where you saw it was an older, purple model. “Left it at home, brought my work phone. If they check they’re just gonna see that I’m at home.”

You nod your head, signaling how impressed you were. “Alright, I see you. Little liar.”

Chris drops his phone back on the bed, turning to you. “Nuh uh, you are the liar. I wanted to tell them.”

“Doesn’t make me a liar!” You wail, pouting in annoyance. “I just… wanna figure out what this is first, is that so wrong?”

Chris puts all of his food down and sighs, maneuvering his body so he was facing you, hands in his lap. “I told you already. I want you, in whatever capacity you’ll let me have you. If you just want to sleep together, I can deal with that. If you want to be together, I’d fucking love that.”

You stare up at Chris, eyes searching his to see if you saw any hesitation behind them, any embellishment to the truth, but all you could see was sincerity.

“We don’t have to label this but I just want you to know where I stand. I’m not talking to anybody, I don’t have dating apps, I only have eyes for you.” Chris trails a hand up to your back, rubbing gently as he spoke. You just nodded at his words, believing him completely.

“But, um… if we don’t have a label, and we do want to eventually… be together,” you start shyly, moving your eyes down to your comforter. “Can we still sneak around and have sex? That’s kind of really hot.”

Chris nods his head enthusiastically, smiling wide. “Oh yeah. That was never a question. I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.”

You laugh, happy he’s on the same page. “Perfect.”

-

a/n: sooo…

smoke and mirrors was SUPPOSED to end here, but you guys BULLIED ME into continuing it so here’s to the beginning of the sneaking around portion of s&m 😈

thanks for all the love babies keep it up please 🖤

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 @mattsside @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.