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loversandantiheroes · 4 years ago

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Hotel Hobbies - Part 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!Reader Author’s Note: This was not going to be a multi-chapter thing, but then people liked it and Whiskey wouldn’t shut the hell up so here we are, folks. I no longer know where this is going so strap the fuck in I guess. This is so long and I am so sorry. Edited for a cleanup 10/5/2020 Summary: A co-worker gives the Reader a little nudge, which backfires just a bit when Whiskey runs unexpectedly late. Warnings: Public sex, exhibitionism, angry sex, mild choking/breath play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (do as I say not as I fictionalize), creampies, come eating, vague allusions to Whiskey’s job and all the dangers contained therein, Whiskey is a service top and I do not take criticism, very brief mention of Whiskey’s past, exactly one (1) use of Spanish that I hope I didn’t fuck up too badly. Rating: Explicit / NSFW / 18+ / How much clearer can I make this? Word Count: 12k+ (oh GOD do not look at me I have no idea what happened) Previous: Prelude / Part 1 / Interlude Taglist: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @oloreaa @the-feckless-wonder @sarcasmisakindofmagic

The conference drags on into its fourth day in a parade of excessively bored people in suits and pencil skirts toting stale danishes and overpriced coffee; the only comforts provided to distract you from the mobius circle-jerk of tedious corporate bullshit. Most of the assembly hall does little more than nod blandly as yet another guest speaker goes through their presentation, the topic of which you forget at least six times throughout the course of it. Half of the attendees aren't even bothering to take notes anymore. The company could've filled the room with potted plants in cheap suits and gotten a better result. At least the plants would provide a little oxygen to the atmosphere.

It certainly doesn't help your case that half of your brain is circling endlessly around Whiskey. You scribble down a set of shorthand bullet points in your notes and try to blink away the image of his arms straining against taut ropes. You sip your coffee and remember the heat of his tongue chasing the taste of his namesake in your mouth. When you cross your legs and feel the deep, pleasant twinge between them, for a split second all you can think about is the way he felt sinking down into you with his teeth against your neck.

The time absolutely crawls by. There's moments when you half expect to look up at the old analog clock on the wall and see the hands start running backward. Of course this would be the day the presentations run long, wouldn't it? Restless and fidgety, you eventually give up on your notes completely and just resign your attention to the clock and whatever obscenity your brain wants to conjure up from the night before.

Claudia, one of your only work friends that actually opted to attend this fiasco, gives you increasingly amused looks throughout the morning, glancing up at you over her phone (on which, you can't help but notice, she has been playing Bejeweled for the past hour with the brightness turned down). After you check the clock for the fifth time in twenty minutes, unable to really keep yourself from sighing angrily through your nose, she shakes her head at you, laughing quietly.

"So what's his name?" she whispers, leaning over conspiratorially.

You give her a glare, but she only raises her eyebrows expectantly. Goddamn it, why does the entire universe find it so funny when you're irritated?

"Whiskey," you mutter back, glowering.

She has to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop a snorting giggle from being loud enough to cause a disruption. "Oh my god," she sputters. "Are you fucking a biker?"

And okay, maybe that is a little funny. You shake your head, mutter back, "Cowboy."

Claudia grins so wide her shoulders pull up with it. "Save a horse," she whispers, trying to dodge out of the way when you elbow her to cut off the rest of the joke. Three people behind you simultaneously shush the two of you, and you toss a dirty look over your shoulder, settling back into your seat.

A few seconds go by before Claudia's leaning back over to quietly add, "The dick must be good to get you this distracted."

"Shut up," you shoot back, but you're already smiling.

When the presentation ends, the entire auditorium raising up on creaking knees to shuffle out to break for lunch, Claudia's hand clamps down on your arm.

"I'm buying lunch and you're going to tell me everything."

So you do. Parked in her conservative little hybrid over styrofoam boxes of take out, you tell her. Damn near everything, too. She listens with rapt attention, this not being the first time she's poked you for details of your love life, such as it is, but judging by the look on her face it's possibly taken the top spot as the most memorable.

"So you're gonna see him again," she says finally as you tell her about Whiskey's invitation before slipping out the door this morning.

You settle back, trying to make yourself look suitably apathetic before answering in the hopes of not being completely transparent. "I dunno. Maybe."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You're gonna see him again. You've been spaced out with dickbrain all day, there's no way you're turning down that invitation."

You wave the end of your plastic fork threateningly. "I will stab you, I swear."

"Not with this many witnesses," she says with a wave at the horde of pedestrians outside on the sidewalk, blatantly ignoring the shanking motions you make in warning.

When she doesn't drop that annoying, knowing look, you start jabbing at your food, rolling a piece of cucumber around the styrofoam. "I mean...ok yeah I thought about it."

"All morning," Claudia provides.

"Fuck you," you counter lightly, and resist the urge to fling the chunk of cucumber at her. "I just...I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh my god, why not?" she cries, head thrown back in exasperation.

"Well it's not exactly fucking sensible, is it?"

"Honey if you were worried about being sensible you wouldn't have fucked a cowboy you picked up at a hotel bar," she says with a shake of her head.

"Did you miss the part where he tried to convince me he was James fucking Bond? I mean c'mon Claudia. That's gotta be...I dunno, some kinda red flag."

She scoffs, flapping a dismissive hand. "Oh please, when the bullshit's that obvious I don't even think it counts. It’s not like you bought it anyway. Besides, honesty is the backbone of a solid relationship, if you're just poking fun it's more like a bonus. As long as he's not married and not a serial killer, who gives a shit? You’re overthinking the shit outta this, hon.”

That’s...well that’s not wrong. It’s honestly irritating how not wrong that is.

When you don’t give a response save for the idle sounds of plastic scratching on your takeout box, Claudia groans. “God are you really gonna make me talk you into getting yourself laid? Okay, if you wanna be rational about it, fine, here's some rational thought for you." She pops out her thumb, ticking off digits as she lists. "He's hot. He likes to eat pussy. He's a fuckin' sub, which - holy shit, girl. Holy actual fucking shit. Plus he's packing and he actually knows what to do with it. Oh, and he bought you fuckin' breakfast!" She wiggles her fingers as she thrusts her hands out towards you. "Seven outta ten, babe! My god, if you don't fuck him I'll do it for you just so I don't have to eat another shitty continental breakfast."

You laugh, but there's a hot flush creeping up your face, and you have to stare out the window for a minute until it starts to wind back. It's almost successful, until you think of Whiskey again. This time, though, all you think of is him outlined in the door, looking back at you with his face too shaded to see. And then your cheeks flare hot again, not with that lingering sense of want, but with a flighty kind of panic.

And just like that you pin it down, your stomach twisting on itself as you finally put words to that moment of apprehension. Whiskey doesn't scare you. His lines don't scare you. The way he fucks you doesn't even scare you. But that moment that he lingered does. It scares you because you think maybe what was going through his head is the same thing that's been going through yours, a fine little thread looped around every remembered pleasure: the worry that you're about to develop a taste for something that you'll never have the chance to get again.

Maybe it's better to leave it. To chalk it up as a fluke and not risk finding out that he'd feel just as good the second time as he did the first. Cut it off now before that lingering taste turns into a full-blown craving.

Claudia sighs, closing her takeaway box. "Look, hon. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It just sounds to me like you're overthinking this. You don't need to be fucking sensible all the goddamn time. So what if you're thinking with your pussy right now? You had fun. He was fun. You have the option to have more fun. You are entitled to have some fun. So, hey: fuck sensibility and have some fucking fun."

You nod. It's reflex at first, but slowly becomes more deliberate. More sure. "Okay. Yeah. You're probably right."

"I am always right, thank-you-very-much," she corrects, and then promptly shrieks as you launch a slice of cucumber into her hair.

⁂

The trick of it all, you remind yourself that evening as you cross the hotel lobby for the elevator, is not to think about it. Because if you think about it, really think about it, you will find a way to talk yourself out it. Sensibility is as much of a hindrance as a help at times. But you've decided now: the absolute last thing you want to be tonight is sensible. You've been bored out of your mind all week, and as much as you're loathe to admit it, Whiskey has been the only bright spot in the whole affair. At least he's given you something to look forward to, even if it is just the prospect of getting railed until you forget your own name.

You take the time to change when you make it to your room. Grab yourself a short, but blisteringly hot shower, and conveniently forget your panties when you redress. Eventually you make your way down to the bar with your heart almost strangling you with the way it's seemingly lodged itself in your throat. Whiskey's nowhere to be seen, which isn't a complete surprise. He always seemed to turn up a little late in the evening before. Not wanting to deviate too far from your own habits, if only to make yourself a little easier to spot, you take your familiar place at the far end where you've been set up for so many nights in a row. You order your drink, make friends with the closest basket of pretzels, and you wait.

And wait...and wait.

Your eyes are half on the clock and half on the door, flicking back to that last at every sign of movement. Despite the fact that you're practically nursing your drink, the bartender refills your glass twice over the course of the night. When he offers a third, you shake your head. Your face feels like it's burning. The bartender nods and wanders away, either oblivious to the growing anger on your face or determined not to end up the recipient of it.

It's nearly midnight when you finally push yourself off the bar stool, throwing down enough bills to cover your tab and storming off. He stood you up. You cannot fucking believe it. What's worse is you feel like you should believe it. Should've expected it. As if a man that strutted around like a preening rooster and fed you a bullshit James Bond story would have a streak of honesty.

You punch the elevator button hard enough to make your hand tingle, pushing your way through the doors as they open and hitting the button for your floor. The walls of the elevator are mirrored, and you duck your head, not wanting to know what your face looks like just now, twisted up in anger and more than a little shame. The doors hang for a moment before sliding closed. At the last possible second a hand darts in, stopping them. Broad. Tanned. Tattooed. The man of the hour leans through the doors as they retreat, and gives you a grin.

"Room for one more?"

Your stomach does a back flip, blood rushing in so many directions you're not sure if you've got enough left to power a response. If this little scenario had played out even half an hour earlier, you might've laughed. Might've fallen back into that easy bitchy banter the two of you seemed so good at. Might've even kissed him. But not now. Now you've built up too much steam, and every little ounce of anger – earned or not – that you'd had percolating for this man since you first laid eyes on him bursts out of your mouth in two words, laced with as much venom as you can muster.

"Fuck you."

You can practically hear the record scratch in his head. The smile falls, eyebrows ratchet up so high you can't see them for the brim of his hat. It's satisfying in an awful sort of way. Like scratching an itch hard enough to draw blood. Too late to take it back now, though. You lash out at the elevator panel, punching the button marked CLOSE DOORS, and Whiskey side-steps neatly inside.

"All right," he says slowly. "That is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"Yeah, well tough shit, cowboy," you all but spit, raking a hand through your hair. You keep your eyes down. Forward. Anywhere but on him. It's hard, too many reflections. Even the distorted shape of his silhouette in the door makes your blood boil.

"I know I'm late," he starts, hands raised, and the low and placating tone of his voice hits you like lighter fluid on a match.

"You don't fucking say?"

His hands drop. "Can I at least explain myself?"

Laughing too loud and too sharp, you shrug, shoulders pulling up hard. "Yeah, sure, why not? Let me guess, rough day at Spy HQ? Assassination appointment run over? Or were you just hiding behind the fucking dieffenbachia to see how long I'd stick around before I came to my fucking senses?"

The shrill sound of your own voice almost makes you wince. You're overreacting. It's not like you're unaware of it. But you're pissed off, and worse now, you've committed to being pissed off. Backing down now is damn near impossible, never mind actually apologizing.

Whiskey takes a step forward, his eyes gone all puppy dog again; wide and imploring under twisted brows. "Look, I don't blame you for thinkin' the worst. I know I left you waitin', and I apologize for that -"

You roll your eyes, mouth twisting into a smile that shows too much teeth to be kind. "Christ, y'know what, don't flatter yourself. I like that bar. The pretzels are nice and they don't water down the liquor. I didn't show up for you."

"Oh horseshit," he snaps. He doesn't raise his voice, but there is a whip crack of impatience in it. "If you didn't want to see me tonight you wouldn't have turned up at all. You and I both know that."

Fuming, you jam your hand into your purse, fishing out his flask and tossing it at him hard enough that it hits him square in the chest. He catches it on the rebound.

"Here. You forgot this."

Whiskey turns it over in his hands, thumping the metal against his palm. "Right. I see," he says slowly, slipping the flask into his pocket. Under that thick drawl, there's a twinge of something that might be disappointment. "Just came to do the decent thing and return a man's property."

"Yes." Part of you sinks, screaming in frustration. But it's like you're a spectator now, just watching yourself sabotage the only thing that'd brought you a shred of joy all week just because your pride and temper won't allow any other option.

One hand falls to his hip, the other rubs idly across his mouth. He's scowling now, quite spectacularly at that, and for a second you think you've finally dealt enough of a blow to his pride to piss him off. Then he steps in close, jaw set. The way his eyes travel up and down you sends a flush through your body, and you're not sure if you want to slap him hard enough to knock the mustache off his face or kiss him until his lips bleed. His gaze lingers at your hip, your curves quite plainly displayed under the tight skirt. He reaches out. The back of his fingernails barely brush the fabric.

"Do you always make returns without any panties on?"

You try to swallow, but find your mouth has gone suddenly bone dry, your throat sticking with a sharp and painful click. "Fuck off," you try to tell him, but it comes out a croak.

"You know what I think?" Whiskey continues, and the tone would nearly be conversational if it weren't for the way he's looking at you, eyes perfectly black and hungry under the shade of his hat. "I don't think you're just mad because I'm late. I think you're mad because I can get a rise outta you. Part of you kinda likes it. Enough to wanna come back for a little more of it. And you don't know what to do about that. Bet you can't even decide if you wanna throttle me or ride me 'til you can't come anymore. Bit of both, maybe, huh?"

Oh fuck you very much, Mister Perceptive. "Christ, you and your fucking ego-"

"Oh to hell with my fucking ego, and yours too." He leans in close enough that you can smell aftershave and a fainter, acrid smell that, if you weren't so fucking preoccupied, you might recognize as spent gunpowder. "If you want me to go, just fuckin' say it. But don't bullshit a bullshitter. If you wanted rid of me that bad you would've tossed me out on my ass last night before I'd even finished coming."

Your jaw works, and you push yourself a little harder against the handrail just to keep from slapping him. How dare he-

How dare he what, exactly? Be right? Again?

You clench your jaw, gripping the handrail on the wall tight enough that the corners dig into your fingers. Glare at him like you're trying to light him on fire. He doesn't flinch.

"What you did last night...that made for a hell of a first impression," he says slowly, and the low rasp of his voice almost curls your toes. "One I don't expect I'm liable to forget this side of fuckin' doomsday. Shit, I don't even know your fucking name and I ain't been able to shake the thought of you all damn day. Now you can believe that or not, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But the only thing I'm asking from you right now is to be fucking straight with me. If you want me to go, you fucking tell me, and I'm gone. But if you want me to stay, honeybee I swear I will make up for every second you had to wait."

"Fuck you, Whiskey," you breathe. It's all you've got left, all you can even think to say, but it's too soft. It's too hard not to believe him when he's looking at you like that. Even if he's still got your teeth on edge, ready to bite, the fire in your belly is sinking lower every second. And there's no way to mistake the low rasp of your voice for anger.

He leans in, hovering barely an inch away from you, and tips your chin up with his knuckle. "That ain't an answer, honeybee."

His lip curls into a smirk and for a second all you can think about is running your tongue out to follow the curve of it.

"You can punish me if you like," he offers in a low, darkly sweet voice. The fingers on your chin trace a path along your jaw, up to your ear, and down the side of your neck as he talks; a three-point constellation drawn in goosebumps. "Lord knows I deserve it. Tie me up again. Ride my tongue until you've had your fill and never lay a finger on me. I don't mind a bit. I'll probably come in my fucking jeans like a goddamn high school virgin while you do it, too."

Oh god. It's too hot. It's too hot and he's too close and it feels like there's no air left. Those words took the last of it and left you with nothing. And then your lungs finally unlock, hitching in air so pitifully loud that for a second his eyes drop first to your mouth and then lower to watch the buttons strain on your blouse.

His tongue brushes up against the back of his bottom lip, a strange gesture, but one you can't drag your eyes away from. And the bastard just keeps talking.

"Then again, maybe the way you've been acting up you'd be more inclined for a little punishment yourself. I could take you upstairs. Turn you over my knee and put my hand to that pretty little ass until it blushes like a ripe summer peach. I'd bet you'd drip just as much and twice as sweet, too. I'd kill for a taste of you right now. Fuck, if you really want I could just hike that skirt up and fuck you right here and now. I am a flexible man and I am willing to take you any way you'd see fit to let me. But only if you let me. I ain't here to play bullshit games, and I will not take anything you don't want to give. So I need you to tell me, honeybee. Do you want this? Yes or no?"

Everything inside you burns and twists. Fuck, you want that. All of that. And all you have to do to get it is unstick your stubborn, too-sharp tongue and admit that you want it. That even without the excuse of three shots of tequila on top of a few too many cocktails, you still want it.

You're burning up. There's sweat on your palms. It squeaks as you twist your hands over the railing. He hasn't just turned the tables on you, he's flipped the whole fucking room and cornered you with it. And God help you, it's infuriating how much you like it.

"Hate you. So much."

"Hm." His hand falls away, and you miss the touch instantly. "So you keep sayin'. Decision time, honeybee. You pick or I'm picking for you and we're both gonna be disappointed in that result."

There is a long long beat where that threat hangs between you. Any hope that he might just push forward and take you anyway – push you into the wall and fuck you ragged right here and now without another word – bleeds away as you stare him down, your wordless challenge going unanswered. His gaze is iron; hard and unyielding, and you know if you wait even one more second, this...whatever the hell this is, will be over. Permanently.

Swallowing the last of your pride like so much cheap liquor, you seize the front of his shirt, dragging him forward even as he starts to back away.

"Yes. Fucking goddamn it. Yes, I want this."

"Yeah?" He leans in, nose brushing your cheek. Somehow it's that little gesture that sets off a bomb's worth of butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes."

The heat of his hand is almost shocking as it glides up your thigh and underneath your skirt, his thumb stroking up and finding only bare skin. Whiskey grins. "Knew it."

You choke back a sigh. "Smug bastard."

"Yes ma'am." His thumb brushes up and down your slit idly, slow and considering. He glances around, quirks an eyebrow, and offers: "Here?"

Following his glance, you spot the hunk of plastic mounted in the top corner of the elevator. "Camera. Fuck."

"Sure enough," he drawls, still grinning. "You want to give the boys 'n' girls in the security booth a show, or d'you want to go someplace a little more sensible?"

Sensible. God, If he'd chosen any other word, you might've agreed. Private. Safe. Anything but fucking sensible.

"Fuck sensibility. Fuck security, too. Just shut up and fuck me."

He laughs through your kiss, the touch of his lips too gentle by miles. The last thing you want right now is gentle. You don't fucking deserve gentleness after all that. And so you rake your teeth across his bottom lip, roll your tongue against his. When you nip at his tongue, Whiskey breaks off, cupping your sex with a warm, calloused hand.

"You're gonna eat me alive, honeybee," he growls. He parts you with a thick finger, drawing the pad of it from your entrance to your clit and back again. "Mm, I have been thinkin' about this all day," he murmurs before his finger sinks into you.

Sighing, you curl your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off to run your fingers through his hair and muss up that razor-clean side part. His hand works unhurried between your legs. You rock against it, listening to the obscene smacking sound as he works you open.

"All that fuss and you're wet for me already, darlin'," Whiskey says wonderingly.

All you can do is groan, chasing the sensation of the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. "Shut up and kiss me."

You tug at his hair, try to urge him forward, but he doesn't budge. He sinks down to his knees instead, right hand never leaving the wet heat of your cunt.

"I'll kiss you, baby," he says, pushing up your skirt and lifting your right leg over his shoulder. "Don't you worry."

And he kisses you: a warm, wet slide of lips and tongue where he's got you spread. Gasping, you grab the back of his head. He looks up at you, only the crinkles at the corner of his eyes proof of his smile, and his eyes slip closed like a man savoring his favorite meal.

"Jesus." The word comes out in a squeak as his mouth works on you, your throat tightening in an effort to keep quiet. A second finger joins the first and you whimper, tightening reflexively against the stretch. Christ those fingers are thick. Shuddering, you work your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, your eyes wandering up to the reflection in the far wall. The view is mesmerizing: your back arched, skirt hiked up to your waist, with Whiskey's head buried in between your legs like a man trying to slake an ungodly thirst. The view on the left is even better. From there you can watch his mouth work against you, catching a glimpse of his tongue, wet and shining as it slips between your folds. He sways forward on his knees like a charmed snake, a growing bulge straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans.

There's a gentle ding, and for a moment you're so scrambled you think maybe your phone's going off. And then the elevator doors slide open. An older looking gent with a battered briefcase stands frozen on the other side, eyes wide as dinner plates as he takes in the same view you've been admiring in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

For a single spaced-out second the only thing you can think is, Going down?, which makes you erupt into a fit of breathless, senseless giggles.

The newcomer's mouth hangs, flapping uselessly over words he can't quite formulate. He might be trying to apologize for the intrusion or insist you repent and turn to Jesus. You don't know and you don't care.

Whiskey looks up at him over the line of your thigh, lips glistening. "Get the next one," he snarls, and punches the CLOSE DOORS button.

He plants a rough, sucking kiss at the top of your cleft as the doors close again, utterly unperturbed. "Penthouse, darlin', if you please."

Oh he would be in the fucking penthouse, wouldn't he? Panting, you fumble a hand out trying to find the button just as Whiskey slides in a third finger and you cry out, almost swiping every button in the center row by accident.

The elevator hums to life and begins to move. The red light on the security camera flashes benignly and you stare at it for a long beat while Whiskey gets right back to work, moaning hungrily between your legs. Someone's watching this. The thought excites you more than it should, adding fuel to the already roaring fire Whiskey is so eagerly stoking with his tongue. You roll your hips, swearing roundly. It's not enough. It's fucking glorious, but it's not enough. You know what you need.

"Fuck me," you gasp. "Goddamn it, Whiskey, gimme your cock."

He glances up at you through thick lashes, eyebrows raised. "Is that what you want, honeybee?" he asks.

You bear down on his fingers hard as if to answer and he clenches right back, thumb and pinky giving him leverage against your pubic bone as he grips you tight, fingers stroking along your walls. It's only by virtue of the handrail and the support of his shoulder that you don't sink straight to the floor. Christ that backfired.

You nod fervently, head spinning.

A roll of his shoulder unseats your leg, and he stands. His left hand wraps around your throat, thumb against your jawline, and that's so fucking perfect you can't stop yourself from whimpering. In a flare of desperation you grasp his wrist, urging him to grip your neck just a little tighter. Chuckling, he brushes his lips against yours – soft and strangely tender – while he fucks you steadily with his fingers.

"Shoulda known you'd like that. Well? Cat got your tongue? Come on, darlin', lemme hear it."

"Yes."

"Louder. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Oh god-d-d-damn it!"

He chuckles darkly, fingers coaxing inside you. "You can do it, honeybee. I know you want it. I just need hear you say it."

You bare your teeth. "I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl." He grins down at you, wide and wolfish. "Now: ask me nicely."

Oh he would, wouldn't he?

"B-bastard," you snarl, then begin to laugh.

"Oh come on now," he croons, eyes darting between your lips and your own heavy-lidded stare. "I'm sure you can get along without your pride for an hour or two. It ain't so bad. And I promise I'll make it worth your while. C'mon."

You groan, grit your teeth, and hiss out: "Please."

He crooks his fingers and you gasp like you've been burned. "'Please' what?"

"Please fuck me. Please fuck me."

He slots your trembling thigh between his legs, pressing the clothed, solid length of his cock against you. "With this? Hm?"

"Fuck, yes." You writhe, feel it twitch, and he rolls against you in response.

"Come for me first, honeybee. Then I'll fill you up good and proper. Cross my heart."

His fingers press into you harder, spreading gently as he draws them back. Your legs begin to shake so badly that he has to pin you to the wall to hold you up. The rail digs into your back. You'll bruise tomorrow, but you're not sure you've ever cared less in your life.

"You gonna come, for me?" he asks, rutting a little more enthusiastically against you when he feels you begin to tense and flutter around his fingers.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you nod, feeling the drag of his lips on your cheek.

"Uh-uh. Talk to me, darlin', I wanna hear it. I want you to tell me every single time you're gonna come, you understand me? Count them out. Let's see just how many you got in you tonight."

"Oh you ass!" You moan and laugh all in the same breath.

"You like it," he says simply.

He kisses you, warm and deep, and you bite his lip for the audacity. "Don't stop. Fuck, I'm close."

He turns your head, slides his hand around to cup the back of your neck. "Open your eyes, honeybee. Watch yourself."

You try. Everything's a blur; inside and out. Fuzzy and disconnected and hot. Blinking to clear the fog, you can see your reflection caught between the wall and Whiskey's body. Your eyes are dazed, unfocused. His cheek is against yours, a look of utterly indecent hunger on his face, lips red and swollen where you've bitten him. He's pressed up against you too tightly to get a good view, but you can see his arm pinned between your bodies, and the flex of muscles working underneath his jacket.

There is, you note with a fuzzy sort of disconnect, a small, ragged hole in the arm of his jacket.

But before you can put any more thought to this discovery he presses his thumb down against your clit – no friction, only a firm, rolling pressure – and that's all you need. If it wasn't for the his body against yours, you'd buckle. As it is, trapped between him and the wall, all you can do is quake and cry out, arms tightening around his shoulders as you come.

He hums indulgently, kissing your cheek. "Count it out."

Panting, you pull hard on his hair until he groans. "One."

"Good girl," he murmurs. Slowly his hand withdraws, giving one last slow swirl over your folds before he sucks you greedily off his fingers.

There's the muffled sound of a zipper and you could almost laugh – finally! But then the elevator slows and stops, doors sliding open with a soft ding. Whiskey glances sidelong at the open door, corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-cocked grin. The disappointed whine you give as you hear him zip himself right back up is wholly involuntary.

"Well wouldn't you know it," he says, pulling away from you and stooping for his hat. It's all you can do not to whack him on the back of the head – or on the ass – as he turns away, wiggling your skirt back down over your hips instead.

He gives a ridiculous wink towards the security camera with his hat held to his chest. Your stomach gives a neat little flip as you look up at that blinking red light – god, you'd forgotten it was even there.

"Sorry to blue-ball ya and run, fellas." He gets an arm around your waist, tugging you into the hall at an easy, languid pace, as if nothing had happened. As if your legs weren't still quivering, with the evidence of your orgasm running in sticky trails down the inside of your thighs.

"Betcha money, marbles, or chalk they'll be jerkin' off over that for weeks," he says jovially, pulling you to his hip when he feels you start to wobble. "C'mon. Let me get you in a bed before I say to hell with it all and fuck you out here on the goddamn floor."

Your knees tremble again; at least one part of you has full support of that particular idea. As the door opens you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him hard even as he steers you by the hips through the suite. You barely see any of it. Recessed halogen lights. The sparkle of painstakingly cleaned glass and marble. Little else. A grunt escapes you as you fetch up hard against the wall and Whiskey crashes into you. The sudden pressure against his groin leaves him winded, rocking forward against you with a shuddering groan.

"Tell me how you want it," he says, words mangled against your mouth. The salt-musk taste of you still clings to his tongue, sharp against some faint remnant of sweet mint.

One hand slips down, squeezing your breast through the material of your blouse. The room spins giddily like a tilt-a-whirl, still riding the coattails of your last orgasm. "Hard," you breathe. The skirt you chose is too fucking tight, and you have to reach down to drag it back up your thigh just to hook a leg around him. "Don't you dare be gentle."

He chuckles as you press into him. "How hard is hard? I can be a little rough if you let me off the leash."

Frustrated, you slip your hands under his sports coat, nails biting into his shoulders through his dress shirt. "Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah," he says, and his voice has reached that breathy, sonorous pitch that sends a hot-cold shiver rocketing down your spine. "Yeah you do. A little honesty would be appreciated tonight."

One good shove and his jacket slips to the floor. "That's funny coming from Double-O-Cowpoke."

"Not my fault you don't believe me." It's pitched like a joke, light and breezy, but there's something in his eyes. Sharp and peculiar and gone almost before you can be sure it was really there, but makes your stomach clench with a sudden surety that the next words out of his mouth are completely genuine. "I ain't lied to you yet, honeybee."

And that almost brings you to a halt. Your hands splay out on his shoulders, pushing back to look at him more clearly. If that's true. If that's true...oh god, why would he have told you?

The question is halfway to your lips before he surges his way forward again, his mouth crashing into yours and kissing you hard and urgent and bruising. A faint sound of protest rises in your throat and you push back a little, not wanting him to stop but wanting him to wait because...because....

And the rest of that thought flutters away. He doesn't stop kissing you. He just doesn't stop. And he's moaning as his tongue licks into your mouth and his teeth scrape over your lips like it's the most decadent thing in the world. You grasp at his face, wrists caging in his neck, feeling his pulse race along next to your at such a frantic speed it's almost alarming. Your last little shred of rational thought all but begs you to push him back a little harder, to make him look at you and ask him what's wrong...and then it just flutters away because God this is what you want. This. This, this, this.

"You want it hard?" he rasps into your mouth, rutting up against you hard enough to drive you back into the wall.

Breathless, you nod. Work your fingers through the mess you've made of his hair. "Ruined you last night, didn't I?" You tighten your grip, use your knuckles for leverage and pull.

Whiskey groans, slipping his hands under the bunched hem of your skirt to grip your ass and grind you down against him. "Goddamn right you did, honeybee."

"So ruin me back." The thick denim that covers his fly is rough, but you rub against it all the same, shuddering at the coarseness against your tender skin. "Fair is fair. Right?"

His eyes slip closed and he buries his face against your neck for a moment, breathing unsteady. "Jesus, girl, you're gonna soak straight through my jeans," he mutters. "All right, honeybee. All right. I only got one rule. If I do anything you don't want, you tell me. 'Cause I ain't stopping unless you do. Not tonight. Got it?"

"Whiskey-"

He gets a grip on your chin, levels your eyes on his. "You tell me 'no' or you tell me 'stop.' ��Got it?"

"Yes." Patience exhausted, you wrench his belt open. "Now come on."

Buttons patter to the floor as he tears open your blouse. And that's good. That's fair. And what's even better is the rough way he puts his hands on you, yanking your bra down to knead and squeeze your bare breasts. When you finally free his cock there's only a brief moment to savor the warm, solid length in your grip before his fingers clamp down on your nipples. The sensation is so sharp and bright and sudden that you yelp, arching up on your tip-toes.

"Hands off, honeybee," he warns.

Whimpering, you flatten your hands against the wall.

"Too much?" he asks softly, that funny little furrow deepening between his eyebrows.

A groaning laugh slips out of you, and you arch your back, pushing your breasts against his hands. "Not enough."

"Fuck, ain't you just the sweetest, dirtiest thing." He twists and you cry out, hips bucking forward. His cock drags against your hip and you chase it, trying to pin it between you.

"Oh, c'mon. You promised," you whine.

"Oh I'm gonna keep my promise, baby, don't you fret. I want you just as fucked-out as you had me. Wanna see you so goddamn cock dumb your eyes roll back. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, too, haven't you?"

The wall warms under your hands as you fight not to push back more. And maybe that's what does it. A little mental-short circuit. Because God knows you haven't been able to think of a single fucking thing other than this. But the denial is on your lips so fast it must be involuntary, a reflexive need to find his buttons and push: "You wish."

Whiskey raises an eyebrow, lip curling. For a second he's amused, seeing the game you want to play. And then it's like a switch flips. Suddenly this isn't the man who'd begged for the privilege of fucking you last night. This isn't even the man who'd put his grateful mouth to your cunt in the elevator. This is the man he'd pretended to be right up until you got his hands tied. The cowboy get up wasn't the costume – this is. This smile. This infuriating swagger.

"Oh, really?" he says, and for the first time you realize just how much that drawl had begun to soften around you, because now that dial's ramped right back up to 11. "You turn up tonight without any goddamn panties on, ride my fingers like a coin-op pony, beggin' to get fucked all the while, and then you try and tell me you ain't been thinkin' about me? I felt how hard you came. How fucking wet you were." His hand darts between your legs as quick a snake-strike, fingers carding through your folds. "Are. Ain't no face left to save, darlin'."

He's in your space, radiating heat, his fingers stroking against your swollen sex, stoking your own fire all over again. But the fire those words kindle burns a little quicker and a little hotter. Without a second thought you strike out, palm tingling as it finds its target against his cheek.

For a moment Whiskey doesn't even seem to breathe. He just stands there leaning heavy against you with his eyes closed and his nostrils flaring. Redness blooms against his cheek. When his eyes open again, the way they bore into you, glittering and eager takes your own breath away.

He hums, that low, pleased sound. But now it slips lower and lower into a breathy rumble that lances straight through you. "Do it again."

Swallowing hard, you slap him again. Harder this time. For a moment the only reaction he gives is the way his cock bobs sharply, slapping against your thigh.

Then he growls, seizing the back of your neck and crushing you to him. You crane up, half expecting a kiss, but his thumb snags the corner of your mouth. He drags it open until your jaw hangs, tilting your head back. A choked sound that's a little too plaintive to be a protest slips from your open mouth a second before Whiskey spits into it.

"Swallow."

You do, sucking hard on his thumb for good measure.

"You nasty little thing," Whiskey says, his voice slow and dark as molasses. His eyes glaze over a little as he works the ball of his thumb against your tongue, watching the way your lips purse around it. "Maybe you are the one that needs the punishin'."

He leans against you, breathing hard as he considers this thought. You frown a little, catching his thumb with your teeth, hoping he'll get the hint and give you something better to put in your mouth. But then his grip loosens, one hand disappearing behind you. Hints, it appears, are completely off the table tonight.

"In," he growls, throwing open the bedroom door. "Now."

Whiskey leads you inside, hitting the lights with his elbow. The room is furnished in that same drab but sparkling minimal style, an impressively large bed swallowing up the majority of the space. One wall is nothing but windows behind drawn shades, a sliding door leading out to a small, isolated balcony.

He steers you directly to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you across his lap to straddle his knee. You let out an indignant little yelp at the treatment, but then he shifts his leg under you and the indignance crumbles. It presses against your mound just right, urging you open, and you grind down with a gasp, trying to find a little relief.

Whiskey tuts. "Oh now look at that. Try to tell me you ain't been thinkin' about takin' my dick and then rub on me like a goddamn cat in heat."

There's the sound of a zipper – not his this time, but your own – and then a little tickle at your hip as he undoes the skirt and wrestles it down your legs. He pushes your blouse up, bunching the material up around your shoulder blades. For a second you think he means to pull it off, but then he twists the fabric around his hand. The garment draws up tight, leaving your arms, still in the sleeves, pinned to your sides.

You moan a little when you feel his hand slide across your ass. He bends over you, and you feel the wet heat of his mouth against your ass cheek. A sweet, languid swirl of his tongue before he bites down. You jerk hard enough that your clit drags against the rough weave of his jeans and you cry out, the sound muted by the bedspread.

The pressure of his knee aches beautifully against your cunt, your breathing so shallow and quick it makes you lightheaded. You know what's coming, and you know what you asked for. The last thing you wanted was to be sensible. And this – well this might be the least sensible thing you've ever done.

You buck your hips up sharply. Searching for his hand. "Do it."

The first strikes are quick and brisk. They tingle, warming your skin, but don't hurt. Not yet. This is just a tease of the real thing. A warm up. The tips of his fingers trace the first reddening outline of his hand against your skin, a match for the not-yet faded print against his cheek. Crooning, he kneads your buttocks, spreading them apart, making the slick folds of your pussy slide against each other.

"Sweet Jesus will you look at that. Open that up, baby. Lemme see just how fuckin' wet that gorgeous little pussy is."

You gasp, grinding down again, and then first real slap lands across your ass, unexpected and jarring. The sting is enough to make your eyes water, but the impact drives you forward, almost encouraging your hips to grind into him. A second strike lands on the other cheek, then back to the first, alternating each time. You rock with it, caught between the hot stinging slap of skin on skin and the building heat between your legs.

"This what you wanted?" Crack.

"Fuck!"

"Is it?" he demands. His hand descends again. Crack.

"Yes!" You kick out, struggling not because you want to, but because you have to. And it only makes it worse. Or better, or – God, you don't even know now. It's more. It's just more. His knee digs in harder and your poor neglected cunt throbs with a misplaced ache and you swear you have never needed to feel yourself filled up more than you do right now.

"You gonna behave?" Crack. "You gonna stop lyin' to me now?" CRACK.

"Yes!" The word leaves you in a shuddering sob, thighs clamping down around Whiskey's leg. One more, God help you, one more and you'll tip over, you'll come all over his knee, you're so close.

And then he stops, rubbing and kneading the hot flushed skin, and you whine in desperate frustration as your orgasm begins to retreat.

"Goddamn. Prettier than a Georgia peach," Whiskey says thickly. His hand strays, slips down between your cheeks and presses against the splayed lips of your pussy. You writhe under the sudden attention, feeling the tips of his fingers slide around your clit. "And damned if you don't drip twice as sweet."

"Please." Warmth trickles from the corner of your eyes, blooming against the bedspread.

The swirl of his hand is lazy, almost soothing but for the way it keeps you so frighteningly close to the edge. "Truth first, honeybee. C'mon. You know what I wanna hear."

"Ye-yes," you mutter. "Goddamn it yes. I've been thinking about fucking you all day. All goddamned day...God, Jesus, fuck, and then you didn't show. Thought you'd ditched me. Made me want - want it and then ditch me."

You bury your face in the quilt. It's a fucking cop out and you know it. You don't just want it. You want him. Fuck, what is happening?

Again you feel his mouth against your ass cheek, open and wet, but this time his tongue is almost cool by comparison. "There now. I didn't ditch you, baby. Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it." His voice is low now, placating, nearly apologetic. And then his fingers are slipping inside you again, stroking and curling. "I'm right here here, baby. Right here. Just a little late, is all."

You whine, trying to wriggle back to drive him in deeper. Those thick fingers are like fucking magic but you need more than they can provide. Desperate now, you clutch your fingers back towards him, find his shirttail and tug at it. "Jack. Please."

It doesn't even register to you that you've called him by his name – God, you didn't even think you remembered his name – until the fingers inside you still. If it wasn't for the hammering of your heart in your ears you might've heard his breath catch.

Slowly he twists his fingers inside you, pressing down until you shudder. "What is it, honeybee?" he mutters. The hoarseness in his voice is familiar. You wish you could see his face. "Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck me. Please. I waited all fucking night."

He rolls you off his lap, leaving you dangling half off the bed and folds over you, cock nestled against the heat of your reddened ass. There's a sticky slide to it; you're not the only one that's wet.

"Hand to God, baby, I'll make it worth every minute. On my fuckin' life." The pained edge in his voice sets the room spinning, and for one mad moment you find yourself trying to grab onto the bedspread to keep from rolling away. Whiskey leaves a kiss against the back of your neck before he draws back, the hand fisted in your shirt tugging you along just a bit.

There's a long, wavering moment when his touch leaves you entirely and you almost protest before you hear him frantically shedding his clothes behind you. Then his hands return, his left winding back into your shirt, his right warm and strong against your back. The blunt, weeping head of his cock nudges between the swollen lips of your pussy. He stays there for an infuriatingly long moment, enough that you cry out your frustration into the bedclothes.

And then he finally makes good on his promise.

You go up on your toes, legs straining as he breaches you. After all the hours you spent thinking about it, all the hours you waited, it's bliss. But the pure, unadulterated stretch of it laces that bliss with a white-hot line of fire that only serves to make it all the more urgent. Maybe it's the angle, bent in half with your ass up and your legs closed. Maybe it's just how overwrought you are already. Maybe...fuck, you don't know, maybe somehow he's even harder than the night before. All you do know is that he feels so big you can't hardly stand it. It's so much, bridging the gap between pleasure and pain until it's just an overwhelming sense of pressure and fullness that has you clenching and fluttering around him. As if your body can't make up its mind if it wants to expel the intrusion or welcome it deeper.

He has no right to feel this good. None. But goddamn it you're so glad he does.

"Fuck," he mutters shakily, fingers biting into your hip. "This what you wanted, honeybee? Huh? This what you been waiting for?"

You can't find the air to give him an answer. Whiskey's still moving forward, you're not even sure how. Christ how much more of him is there? He leans forward, pushing you into the mattress, pushing down into you until you start to shake, until he hits that buried junction inside you that sends a flare of heat rocketing clear down to your toes and your stalled orgasm rears up again so sudden and so close that it's startling.

Every muscle in your body tenses, straining. The whine that breaks out of your gaping mouth is pitiful. "Shit, oh shit, Jesus fuck, Jesus fuck-fuck-fuck-"

He feels it. He must. There's no way he can't. "Oh fuck, that's it honeybee," he croons, working his free hand under you to circle your clit as he sinks that last broad inch into you. "Come on. Come all fuckin' over me."

For a second everything shorts out, all senses lost in a white-out. The only tenuous connection you have to your body lies in the grounding pressure of his cock inside you and the faint but rapid fluttering of his pulse in it. And then you're slamming back to yourself with a ragged cry, blood roaring in your ears and coming so hard that you nearly buck off of him entirely. Your arms flex, bend, bunched cloth digging deeply into your skin until you feel rather than hear the seams rip. And then the tightness is gone, Whiskey's hand unwinding immediately from your shirt to stroke up and down your back.

There's a lump in your throat when you finally find enough air to speak: "T-t-two."

Whiskey groans. "Beautiful. Fuck, you shake so pretty when you come for me. I could watch you do that all night. Might just, at that." He drags the torn wreck of your blouse off you, popping the clasp on your bra and bending to place an open, humid kiss in the valley along your spine.

He rocks forward and back, one hand clamped into soft flesh at your hip, humming tunelessly. "Been wantin' to bury myself back in this sweet pussy from the minute I woke up. Ain't been able to think of nothin' else. Just this," he says, drawing back slowly before burying himself to the hilt and rolling his hips against you.

You clamp your teeth down on your lip, fighting the haze. It's hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. But he's rolling into you slow, far too fucking slow. And that isn't what you need. You try to push yourself up on your elbows, but he thrusts forward, a little more force in it this time, and your arms give out.

"Ha-harder," you pant, voice thick and muffled by the quilt. You turn your head, claw the hair out of your face. "F-fuck me harder, god-d-d-damn it. Make me fuckin' feel it tomorrow. Big-dicked b-bastard, oh my God, don't you stop."

He breathes out a laugh, folding over your back. The pressure against your tender ass stings like hell, and you hitch in a hissing gasp as Whiskey's mouth finds your cheek. He kisses you, or does his best to. The angle is strange and your face is half-smashed against the bed, but his mouth slants over the side of yours, tongue dragging against your lips until you open for him, letting him lick against the sharp points of your teeth.

"Careful what you wish for, honeybee," he whispers, grinding forward in a maddening circle. "Words like that will get you in a whole mess of trouble."

The air leaves you in a whooping rush as he stands, dragging you up against his chest, your back bowing to try and keep the searing length of him pressed where you need it. And then – ah god – his hand is around your throat and his teeth are sinking into your shoulder, and you're suddenly glad he can't see the way your eyes flutter and roll back.

Not that he even needs to see it, because just then Whiskey groans into your skin as a rush of wetness courses down his cock.

"Fuck, is it that good, baby? Hm?" His voice quavers as his body impacts yours like a sledgehammer. "My dick finding all the sweet spots in that pretty little pussy for you?"

You grapple at him, find where he clings to you and grip his hands, inadvertently encouraging him to press his hand just a little harder against your throat. And there goes the room again, looping and floating as he starts to move, really move, driving forward harder and harder. You stumble, going up on your toes, some choked and desperate noise caught in your throat somewhere under his hand. Sparks pop behind your eyes, faint and wavering like fireworks reflected on choppy waters. And then the pressure eases, air rushing into your lungs once again. The fire in your belly flares up at it like a backdraft.

"M-more," you grate out. "Oh f-fucking God please more. D-don't...d-d-don't-"

"Don't you worry, baby. Ain't gonna stop," he mutters harshly against your ear. "I'll give you all you want. Ain't stopping 'til you tell me to stop."

You shake your head, or at least try to, the movement restricted by his hand. "N-no. Never. Fuck, never-never stop. Right there f-fuck-"

Whiskey growls out something low and broken and unintelligible as you clamp down on him, your body chasing that bright, blazing heat whether you want it to or not.

"Oh fuck, are you comin' again for me already, angel? Shit, you are, aren't you? Got yourself all riled up today and now you just can't stop. C'mon then, baby. Come on my dick. You feel like fuckin' heaven when you come. Pussy's so good it oughtta be fuckin' blasphemy. C'mon, honeybee, do it for me, come like you fuckin' mean it-"

Before you can breathe a word it hits you and it hits you hard, muscles seizing up so tight it's like they're trying to wring the pleasure out of you. You ride through maybe three or four near-blinding shocks of it and then your knees, traitorous things, finally give out underneath you. The only thing that keeps you up is Whiskey's arms wrapped tight around you, clutching you to him, suspending you on his dick as it grinds up brutally against your g-spot.

"Got you, honeybee," he grunts, rhythm never faltering. "I got you. Keep comin' for me, baby, keep comin'."

And god help you, you are. You're still quivering, still coming, and then his hand falls away from your neck to cup against your sex, palm flat against the rigid little knot of your clit. He doesn't even rub, it's just a heat and a pressure and it's like your whole body stutters upward, launching towards a second, higher peak. Whiskey lets out a broken groan against your neck as you bear down on him so hard it nearly hurts and you wail at the unexpected, overwhelming force of it.

Everything spins off and away in the aftermath, senses blown out like a bad circuit. Sounds are swallowed up in a high, persistent ringing. You haven't got the strength to force your eyes back open. There's a shift and a feeling of soft cloth beneath you and when the haze starts to lift you find you're on your knees on the bed, shoulders down and ass up with Whiskey draped over your back. He murmurs things against your cheek, your ear, your neck. You can't hear a word of it over the ringing in your ears.

You turn your head, knocking your forehead against his by accident. "Thr- I- f-four?" Your voice jumps in your throat, but you can't quite make it steadier. "I...I don't-"

"Honeybee," he drawls, his cock giving a hard, desperate twitch inside you. He grins at you indulgently, gathering your hair up in one broad hand and pulling. "Good girl."

A shudder goes through you as you realize he's still fucking you. Deep, swift strokes that send tingles sparking through you. He drags his cock out of you and drives it back in, pulling it over your blazingly sensitive nerve endings like a bow over violin strings. Like it's a privilege to do it. Like it'd be a fucking crime to stop.

He drags two more orgasms out of you like this. Shuddering, slow-building things that overtake you like flood waters, rising up with an aching, consuming crawl unmindful of the pounding pace Whiskey holds to like a clockwork battering ram. It's only when you gasp out a broken cry of "S-sih-s-six!" that Whiskey's hips finally begin to falter, stuttering and slowing at the feeling of your overworked pussy milking his cock again. His grip on you tightens as he tries to steady himself, tries to hold on, groaning his own restrained pleasure through gritted teeth.

"Tight - fuck! Goddamn it girl you get so fucking tight when you come. So fuckin' wet. Sweet Jesus. I don't know how m-much more of that I can fuckin' take."

"God, fuck, do it, just do it," you whine, reaching back for him with hands that can't stop shaking. "C'mon Jack."

He laughs at that, but it's a little frayed and frantic at the edges. He brushes the hair out of your face, working his fingers into it and giving it a tug. "I – ungh! Oh s-shit – I got... your p-permission this time, honeybee?"

You hum, nodding, and hitch in a breath as he grinds in particularly deep. "Please."

His rhythm falters again, hips canting suddenly at a hard angle. "W-where? Fuck, fuck, where do you want me, baby? Hurry."

"In-inside. Inside me. 'S what you wanted last night? Right?"

Whiskey makes a broken sound, lurching against you. "Y-yeah. Oh shit, yes. Jesus fucking Christ, honeybee."

Growling, he flips you over and slides in deep, pushing your knees up almost to your shoulders and staring raptly down at your face even as his own contorts. The length of him inside you stiffens even more, pushing in so deep his hipbones grind painfully against your own.

And then he breaks with a cry, his whole body locking up with the force of his climax. His head drops between your breasts and his back arches high, fists punching deep divots into the mattress on either side of you. He rocks through it, jerking at every pulse and spasm, and you can't help but shiver at the warmth that pools inside you as he comes.

"Fuck, fuck. Nngh, ho-holy shit." He almost says more, but another tremor wracks his body and it chokes off into a broken mess of Spanish - "¿Que chingas me estás haciendo a mi mujer?"

Winded and boneless, you scratch your nails weakly across his scalp, working your fingers down his neck to his shoulders. "Better be a compliment."

"You have no idea," he pants open-mouthed against your skin. Instead of elaborating he just eases himself out of you and crawls his way down, trailing his mouth over your skin until he's settled between your legs, staring at whatever disaster he's made of you and groaning softly in appreciation.

Take a picture, you almost say, it'll last longer. But before you can work up the air and energy to put breath to the quip he's drawing his tongue against you, cleaning up the mess he's made with a desperate, greedy reverence that sets your knees trembling on either side of his head.

Whimpering, you clamp your lower lip in your teeth, shuddering up against the warm heat of Whiskey's mouth. "Careful," you warn. "Oh, G-God, careful."

The only answer you get is a low moan and the feeling of his fingers sinking diligently back into your cunt, coaxing out the trickling remnants of his orgasm.

A high, lazy heat begins to build again, over-sensitivity easing back into something warm and sweet and giddily aching. Your hands cradle the back of Whiskey's head, carding through his sweat-soaked hair as he licks his own come out of you. It's not a thing you've ever really given much thought before – bodily fluids were always more an incidental part of sex for you than anything else – and you're not sure if he's enjoying the act itself or just the strange submissive edge of it. Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance down at him, expecting to see him staring intently up at you over the rise of your mons, gloating over the state he's put you in. Fuck, he's made you come so many times you're sure he'll never let you forget it.

Only he isn't. His eyes are closed, face lax with a blissful intoxication as he tastes himself inside you, holding your thighs up and apart to let him work his tongue and fingers in deeper. The sight of him so clearly lost in the moment, not goading or gloating, just rapturously gone is maybe the single most erotic thing you've seen in your whole life. And that sweet, lazy heat suddenly licks up to a blaze.

The sudden clench you give is impossible to miss from Whiskey's vantage point, and he groans against you. "One more, honeybee," he almost pleads, breaking away from you with a sucking pop just long enough to gasp air. "You can gimme one more, can't you? I know you can. C'mon baby. Lucky seven."

He lowers his head once more with a decadent hum and you throw yours back as he sets to more deliberate work, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

"God, you greedy b-bastard," you rasp out. The stimulation to your worn nerves leaves you quaking, wriggling underneath him. You're not sure you can stand another one, but a deep, hungry part of you is desperate to find out.

He growls at that, more in agreement than in offense, and when your hands scrabble at his he parries them without even glancing up, seizing your wrists and yanking you down even tighter against his mouth.

You nearly kick him in the ribs when you come. It's not your fault. Honestly it's his for working you up to this point. To this high, nervous overload that's barely left you any control over your body. It doesn't seem to faze him, though. Your heel glances off his side as your shaking legs lock around his back and he just keeps going, like he hasn't even noticed, like he isn't even here. Like the world has spun down smaller and smaller and the only thing left is his mouth and your cunt and leaving that would mean the end of everything.

But it's too much. Goddamn it, it's too much.

You sob, wrench your hands out of his grip and push at his head. "S-s-seven. Sev-seven. F-f-fuck, Jack. No more, n-no more, please, stop, I can't, I can't– "

He's pulling away before you even finish, pressing one last biting kiss against your thigh before crawling shakily over you to put his mouth to yours with a surprising gentleness. The taste on his lips is heady, musky and sharp. His arms tremble at the strain of keeping himself from slumping over on top of you, gasping raggedly between each kiss like they’re just as necessary as air.

For the longest time you can’t even move, you’re far too wrung out and exhausted to even try. All you can do is lie underneath him and do your best to remember how to breathe between slow, lazy kisses. Eventually you work up enough breath to speak. "'M sorry," you whisper hoarsely.

Whiskey shakes his head, trying to focus his eyes. "What for?"

"'Two minutes and a cigarette.'" You bring up a hand, patting his cheek with an awkward bonk. "I stand corrected"

A look of comical confusion takes over his face, brows knitting together, until he finally remembers the jab you'd made after you'd tied him up the night before. "Shit," is all he says before he dissolves into giddy laughter. His arms finally give out on him and he rolls to keep from toppling onto you.

You roll with him, tucking your head into his shoulder and giggling. It aches. The muscles in your abdomen so overworked that even laughing hurts, but somehow that just makes it funnier.

You’ve nearly composed yourselves when Whiskey tries to prop himself up on an elbow that immediately slides out from under him and almost smacks you in the head, and that just sets you both off all over again. Giving up entirely, you just lay there, shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing like a couple of punch-drunk loons.

"You hungry, honeybee?” Whiskey asks breathlessly when he’s got himself back under some semblance of control. “I could eat a goddamn horse."

Now that he mentions it you realize just how long ago lunch was, and your appetite, which had so far taken a backseat to both your temper and libido, roars back to life. "God yeah, actually. 'M fuckin' starving."

So for the second time today, you get room service on Whiskey's dime. Or his employer’s dime, he insists. You're not sure if that's better or worse. It's a little ridiculous. Even more so when you think to look for a clock and realize just how late it is, but you're absolutely famished and the second he's on the phone asking in a pleasantly fuck-drunk voice for a couple hamburgers and french fries you're stomach's growling so insistently you're almost certain the staff on the other end of the line heard it.

He's chuckling as he hangs up the phone, draping over you to nuzzle into your neck. For the first time you notice just how much his mustache tickles, and you squirm under him, giggling all over again.

"Love me a woman with an appetite," he mumbles, nipping playfully at you.

"God, what the fuck are we doing?" you stutter out through your giggles. It's not meant to be a real question. You’re practically a space cadet right now, and you can’t remember the last time you were this giddy after sex. But Whiskey shifts a little, pulling back to look down at you, and you can't quite parse the look on his face. "Never had a one-night-stand like this before.”

"Hm." He drops his head a bit, tapping an idle finger against your collarbone. "Think the repeat offense kinda cancels out the one-night-stand idea, honeybee."

"You didn't strike me as the repeating kind."

"Mm. Didn't strike you as the kind who could hold his dick up for longer'n a minute, either. So I'll try not to take offense at your continued misjudgment of my character." His eyes wander away from yours, pulling up his well-worn crooked smile with some degree of effort. "But if you're looking for a polite way to tell this old man you've had your fill, there ain't no need to beat around the bush about it."

You might've appreciated the easy out once. After tonight, though, you're almost offended at it. You're not in the habit of begging for things you only have a mind to dispose of. A little of that flighty panic starts to take hold, and you tamp it down. Fun. This is just for fun. Even if you do want a little more. Fuck, don’t start overthinking it now.

"Is that what you want?" you ask, and it's only the curiosity in your voice that keeps it from sharpening into an accusation.

Whiskey shakes his head, a bit of incredulity in his eyes. "What I want...shit, what I want is to get me somethin' nice an' artery-clogging to eat and then get some fuckin' sleep. Preferably next to the woman who has fucked me ragged two nights running, if she happens to be amenable to that kind of thing. That's as far as my wants go right this second."

The deflection is so clumsy it’s almost funny. “Chickenshit,” you mutter.

Whiskey blinks down at you, shocked for a moment before you give him a teasing smile. “Fuckin’ comedian,” Whiskey says, snorting laughter. “Ain’t no softening that tongue of yours, is there?”

“You never know.” You shift a little, heart hammering as you consider your next words. "How much longer are you going to be here?"

The crooked smile slips, becoming softer. "Well. That sorta depends on you, honeybee. My work's all wrapped up. But if you're gonna be around a bit longer and are lookin' for a bit of company I might be convinced to stay a bit longer."

You feel the smile creep up on your face before you can stop it. "I wouldn’t mind a little continued reprieve from corporate hell. Under one condition," you insist, waving a finger at him.

Schooling his face into a parody of gravitas, he nods expectantly. Proceed.

"I need to know something first. Some things. Plural."

He cocks an eyebrow. "How many is plural?"

You consider for a second, squinting. "Three."

"All right," he says, resting his chin against your shoulder. "Fire away."

You pop out your thumb. "Are you a serial killer?"

He stares at you for a long, silent beat before his eyes slip closed and he shakes his head, his chest hitching with stifled laughter. "No, honeybee, I am not now nor have I ever been a serial killer."

You nod, grinning. "Okay, one down.” You pop out your pointer finger. “Are you married?"

The levity bleeds out of his face with a swiftness that makes you regret the question instantly, sure he's about to drop a bombshell directly on your head that's going to leave you hating him and yourself. But he shakes his head, holds up his ringless left hand as if in proof, as though nobody having an affair would've ever thought to slip a ring off beforehand. But then, very quietly, he adds: "Was. But not for a long time."

You nod dumbly, mutter, "Okay.”

For a second you wonder if you should apologize – you’ve clearly tripped on something raw by accident – but then he's poking you in the ribs and drawing in a sharp breath. "And number three?"

A little grateful, you pop out your middle finger ask your last question: "What do you do? What do you really do?"

The corner of his mouth gives a twitch. "Shit, is that all? Well. Officially, I'm a businessman. I own a sizable amount of shares in the Statesman distillery company. Which, incidentally, is where that fine stock of bourbon whiskey came from," he adds.

You lean back, eyeing him carefully. You don't think he's lying. And yet....

Your fingers find the catch of a scar against his ribs. "You're scarred to shit for a liquor tycoon, cowboy."

The twitch turns into a grin. "I have been known to get a little rough-and-tumble once in a while."

"I don't know if I believe that story any more than I did the James Bond bullshit."

Whiskey huffs a laugh. His jeans are in a puddle at the end of the bed and he drags them up, pulling out a thick leather wallet out of the back pocket. From one of the compartments he pulls a business card embossed in gold and black and hands it to you.

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, Statesman Distillery, Kentucky.

You blink at it, giggling a little. "Jesus Christ that is actually your name?"

"More or less. Been Anglicized for flavor, among other things."

"What was it before?"

There's an odd sharpness in his eyes when he looks at you, a shrewdness you'd never have expected from the costume cowboy you'd met down in the bar. For a moment you're sure that not only is he not going to answer, but that you've overstepped a line you weren't even aware existed.

"That's four questions," he says, "not three."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you add with a tilt of your head.

The corner of his mouth curls slightly, and the sharpness fades. "Well now, how can I resist that a bargain like that?" He pauses a moment, as if reconsidering, then adds: "It was Joaquin."

"Joaquin?"

"Mm." He nods. There's only a moment of quiet before he tilts his hips to the side, jostling you. "C'mon, darlin. A deal's a deal."

You roll your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. And you tell him your name. He repeats it back, and you don't need to see his face to know he's smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you," he says. "Literally."

"Jackass."

#agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #citrus variations #spicy spicy content babes #I really didn't mean for this to end up this long but here we are I guess #ao3 version and fic masterlist will be updated shortishly

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scammydoesstuff · 4 years ago

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So about that 'Blue Bloods' episode…

I recently saw something come across my dash regarding Alex Brightman’s guest appearance on the season 11 episode of 'Blue Bloods' (The Common Good) and it reignited the vehement response I had to the episode as a whole. And, since I have this blog now, I figured…fuck it. I need to rant about it.

So that's what this is.

Take what I say with a grain of salt, of course. This show is so clearly not for me and I acknowledge that, but I went to school for and got my degree in creative writing and so much of this episode pissed me off from a narrative perspective and I just really need to talk about it. Putting it under a Read More, though, so you can ignore me if you’d like while I rage to no one in particular. Apologies in advance if you choose to read on. I'm super long-winded. Luckily I don't have pictures and this is more of just a lot of text, so…it could be longer?

So, to begin, I’ll freely admit that I’d never seen an episode of 'Blue Bloods' before this and I’ve not watched it since. I mean, if the rest of the episodes are as badly written as this one, I have no interest to either, but I digress.

Overall my main problem with the episode was how desperately it avoided ‘showing’ over ‘telling’ and, as a visual medium, that’s kind’ve a big deal. We were told pretty much every detail that was presented to us. These people love to hear themselves talk, but do little to actually show things as they happen and I believe a part of that has to do with the focus of the show itself, which is definitely unique to this brand of television. By that, I just mean that it’s not the format I might’ve expected from a show like this. Most cop shows give a lot of focus to the cases, and the intrigue you get with the characters is how they apply their own skills and knowledge to solve them, with the hi-jinks they get into along the way being more of a bonus.

This is not that kind of show.

No, 'Blue Bloods' as a show is way more interested in the cops and their familial ties than it is about the actual job that they’re doing, as shown prominently with the political plot of this episode which was also very focused on the relationship between Tom Selleck’s character and his daughter and the wholly unrelated dinner scene where they talk about lent for 2 and a half minutes and acknowledge nothing else that happened in the episode. This show doesn’t care about the job of being a cop so much as it cares about the cops themselves.

Which would be fine if I gave a shit about cops, but I don’t.

You could argue that the mentor plot is the exception to that, but that entire situation had no real consequences for the cop in question, Jamie, abusing his power. It was entirely focused on how the situation affected him and how it was fine that he’d nudged this kid to get information which ultimately led to the arrest of Dion's brother, and Dion quitting the program. Hell, if Jamie had, in his final scene with Dion, owned up to his abuse of power and left the program — to then urge Dion to rejoin so that he can have that positive outlet in his life without him there — I would’ve been way more okay with it, but Jamie faces no consequences past ‘I don’t wanna see you anymore’, which I was never convinced he actually cared about in the slightest. There's nothing cathartic about it, it's just shitty and left me feeling frustrated at the lack of consequences for the cop.

But hey, you prolly don’t wanna read me going on and on about those parts. You prolly wanna know why I hate it despite Alex’s plot — which I fully expected to love because he’s perfect and gorgeous even when he’s playing a bad guy and he was just so adorable in his lil suit and they let him keep the scruff this time, and he was all handsome an— I need to stop. That could go on forever.

Anyway, to put it simply; it was bad, but I'll definitely explain why.

Now, I don’t think any of the guests in this episode necessarily did a bad job. They still acted well enough for what they were given. I just think they had a shit script that wasn’t interested in that story line. I mentioned at the top of this that this show cared more about telling than showing and that’s a huge problem when you want me to buy a character being the culprit in your murder plot. I need evidence, not anecdotes. Cuz, yeah, by the end of the episode, I didn’t buy for even a second that Ralph did it. And it’s not because he was played by Alex who is just charisma incarnate. I can believe him playing a bad guy. I also watched his 'Law & Order SVU' episode where he scared the shit outta me. He can play a creepy and violent character very well, he just wasn’t convincing to me as a bad guy in this show.

And here’s why!

First of all, he confessed at knife point. That confession would be thrown away IRL. It’s the same problem with using torture to get information. If a person’s life is threatened or they're being harmed in some way, they’ll usually say whatever it takes to get you to stop threatening them/causing them pain. Same deal here. You can’t convince me with a confession like that.

But they didn't seem to be interested in convincing anyone as far as I could tell. They just expected you to believe it because, ‘no, didn’t you hear? He said he did it, so he did it.’ They had so many opportunities to portray this character as the shitbag that we’re told he is. Hell, great way to really implicate him? Give him a female assistant that Donnie Wahlberg and his partner overhear / walk in on him berating for something small like getting him the wrong coffee or something. Then have them talk to that assistant later on and her mention some weird behavior from him on the night of Andrea’s death. It's cliché, but it's more than what we got.

Or you could have him talk to Meghan in a super condescending voice when he approaches her after her interview later on. Or, hell, have him refer to the murder victim in a condescending way even as he talks about her death. But no. The most we get out of him is that he's maybe a little snarky and smug when talking to the cops, but that’s not enough to convince me he’s a bad dude. Frankly, his producer buddy came off as more of an asshole, if I'm being honest. Just cuz (we’re told) his character did shitty things to her in the past doesn’t mean he’s still shitty. Show me he’s still shitty. I wanna see it and I know Alex is capable of a performance like that.

Second, it’s also just…obvious to make him the culprit if we're to believe everything we're told about him. He and Andrea are described as having had beef a little while before the murder with him being abusive mentally and physically. He’s known in the community to be a misogynist and an abusive person overall. He’s the obvious suspect, but if there’s anything that Scooby-Doo taught me, it’s that it’s never the most obvious person. Like, once in a blue moon, sure — but it’s rare.

So yeah, I don’t believe that Ralph did it. You wanna know who I do think did it?

Meghan.

Alright, so bear with me. This'll prolly sound a little conspiratorial, but hear me out:

She had the motive. She confirms in the beginning of the episode that she’s also a female gamer like the victim, but that she was ‘no Andrea’. Andrea was her competition. They were (supposedly) friends and stuck together as female gamers, but Andrea was still competition. With her out of the way, Meghan’s able to rise in the ranks, if even a little bit.

She had a scapegoat in Ralph — again, the obvious suspect given his tumultuous relationship with Andrea sometime prior — and an obvious grudge against men in their community in general. And, don’t get me wrong, men in gaming can and often are hella toxic — I’m not, in any way, denying that — but she got way more emotional when talking about the men in their community than when she was talking about her supposed friend lying dead in the adjoining room.

Speaking of the adjoining room, how did she not hear the murder happening? It couldn’t have been when she was down in the bar, cuz we see Ralph there too in the crappy CCTV footage that was supposed to show him being an asshole, I think (hard to really see). Was she just fucking around somewhere else when it happened? She doesn’t mention as much that I recall (correct me if I'm wrong on that, of course). And Andrea was strangled to death. I would assume that there would’ve been a struggle with that. Are you seriously telling me she wouldn’t hear that in her adjoining hotel room? Those walls aren’t that thick. I find that kinda hard to believe. And that she wouldn’t have found her till the next morning after that, also strikes me as a little odd.

Going off on some previous points, she shows very little grief over her friend’s death. Not just in the intro scene, either, but later on as well. (Side bar: that intro scene itself was very misleading. Don’t lead with a murder plot if it only takes up less than 10 minutes of the overall runtime, kay?) The show did a pretty bad job at indicating the passage of time, but it’s implied that the convention is still happening when Meghan gets the confession out of Ralph, so it would’ve had to have been the same weekend, or possibly the same week (though most conventions I’m aware of don’t last that long — it’s usually a weekend thing, at most Thursday-Sunday — but it could be similar to AGDQ, which seems to last about a week). So, if this is only a day or so later, why would someone who is supposedly grieving over their dead friend do interviews like nothing is wrong? Wouldn't you, like, reschedule or just politely decline and say you need time to process the shock? Like, when we cut to ol’ Donnie Wahlberg calling her after her interview, she doesn’t look upset — as I imagine she might if they’d likely asked her questions about Andrea / her feelings about the murder — and she seems cool as a cucumber when she asks Ralph to go somewhere private. In fact, the look on her face indicates pretty clearly that she’s planning to do something. Specifically, not that she's scared, that she's angry.

Finally, she’s the one who’s attacking Ralph when Donnie Wahlberg and company arrive on the scene. She doesn’t seem to have any marks on her indicating that he made any move to harm her (again, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember seeing her with any marks / cuts), but he’s got a clear, bleeding cut on his face. She attacked him first and was going in for the kill.

Or…was she? Cuz right before Donnie Wahlberg pulls her into that bear hug to stop her from the attack, she doesn’t do a great job of actually trying to kill Ralph. She was close enough that a quick dart at him would’ve probably been enough to at least injure him pretty significantly — maybe even fatally — and would’ve surely led the cops to pull them apart to secure him, but she kinda just hops around a bit and screams before lunging for him. That’s a really weird way to attack when you actually want to kill someone.

But, then again, I don’t necessarily think she did want to kill him. I’m convinced she wanted that confession, but that she also wanted him in jail and was playing the part of the super sad and hysterical victim who was just so overcome with her grief that she wasn’t in her right mind. I think that’s what they were going for in regards to her character in general, but it came across as less sincere in the performance and more like the character was putting on an act. They then cart Ralph off while comforting her — despite the fact that she disobeyed a direct order from police, which should lead to her being detained as well! — and that plot ends.

So, she gets what she wants in the end. A person she despises is now in police custody, her competition is out of the way, and the publicity she might get for bringing that ‘murderer’ to justice might eventually lead to her own career getting a nice boost. I dunno, it just strikes me as her having a great reason to have initiated this over Ralph just being a misogynist who 'was really trying to kill Meghan and just got the wrong girl'.

So yeah, with what the show presented to us, I believe Meghan’s the real killer. Again, if they’d done more to show me that Ralph was a bad dude or that she was more affected by her supposed friend’s death, or if they'd just given that plot more room to breathe to show those things, I might’ve been more inclined to buy the narrative they were pushing but…as is, I don’t believe it.

That’s pretty much all I wanted to say on the matter. I had a lot of issues with the domestic abuse plot line too, but they barely gave that 5 minutes of the overall runtime, so does it really matter in the long run? This is just…my thought process of the only part of the episode I watched for and how disappointing it was for me. And yes, I timed each section of the episode to figure out how much time was given to each of the 4 plots, plus the dinner scene at the end, but not counting the intro theme, and the murder plot got just over 8 minutes, of which Alex was on screen for half of that time. He got less than 5 minutes of screen time. It was definitely worth it just because he’s wonderful and I just like seeing him on these shows, but from a narrative standpoint, it felt pointless.

Okay, I’m done. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Unless y’all wanna talk about this some more, cuz I’m so down for that.

#scammy talks too much #scammy rants #blue bloods #the common good #alex brightman #long post is long #I'm long-winded as fuck #obviously I'm not an authority on what makes good tv #this is just all how I felt after watching the episode #It was just so disappointing after the INCREDIBLE performance on Law & Order SVU #if you like it that's cool #I'm not here to tell you you're wrong #or that I'm right about this #like whatcha like #sometimes I just gotta rant and get it outta my brain

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tearsofthemis · 4 years ago

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Tears of Themis : Chapter 2 “Unbearable Love“ Part 15

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

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▌Location- Crime Scene

(Jiang MingYue’s lie about the rooming arrangements combined with the strange position that Shen Xi was found in… tells me that the missing piece we needed to crack the case was about to be revealed.)

MC: “Even if the hallway was empty, people could come and go as they pleased through the connecting door! This means Li Zhou could have entered Shen Xi’s suite when no one was watching. Officer, when did Li Zhou check-in?”

Officer: “Last night, 7:00 PM.”

MC: “That’s to say, Li Zhou was already checked in by the time Jiang MingYue brought up the box of chocolates. He had time to poison the chocolates.”

Mo Yi: “You’re right. From my guess, Li Zhou and Shen Xi must be associated with one another.”

MC: “You’re so sure of it, is it because…”

~~~Analysis Begins~~~

[Select: Position of Shen Xi’s Body, Misplaced Phone]

MC: “Her cellphone! Last night when Shen Xi returned to her suite, no one entered or left it, but her phone was taken away by someone. The only one who could’ve done so was Li Zhou.”

Mo Yi: “Not only that, judging by the position she was found in and the fact that she was still dressed in formal wear… points that it’s likely she saw someone in the room. Otherwise, the first thing she would have done upon returning to her suite would have been to get changed and remove her makeup.”

MC: “Therefore, Shen Xi must have known Li Zhou.”

Mo Yi: “The fact that Li Zhou was staying right next door and has the connecting keys to her room in his possession, is no coincidence.”

~~~Analysis End~~~

MC: “Did Jiang MingYue intentionally plan the room arrangements so that Li Zhou would be next door to Shen Xi?! If so, then the lies that Jiang MingYue told in regards to the room bookings were told to cover up Li Zhou’s presence. Li Zhou and Shen Xi, what kind of relationship do they have… If Li Zhou wanted to talk to her, why couldn’t he just enter through the suite door?”

Mo Yi: “It’s not outlandish to assume that Shen Xi and Li Zhou would be involved with some kind of secret romantic relationship. Li Zhou avoided entering through the suite door to prevent being photographed by paparazzi and risk exposing his relationship, which would ultimately affect his career.”

MC: “That’s true. There’s a saying that fans will use, ‘when an idol dates, heads will roll’. There’s no way Li Zhou would publicly announce that he has a girlfriend.”

Mo Yi: “Jiang MingYue’s intention behind the room bookings was to facilitate Shen Xi and Li Zhou’s secret rendezvous. She lied to protect her boss and a famous actor’s privacy. Jiang MingYue would have never suspected that her boss’s lover could be the murderer. She, like Shen Xi, believed that this was part of Lu JingHe’s revenge plan.”

MC: “Truly, once you think about it, you can find a reasonable explanation through a sea of doubts.”

(As Mo Yi and I were discussing, another officer knocked on the door and let us know that we could interrogate the hotel manager on duty.)

Hotel Manager: “How long will this police investigation take? We’ve been receiving guest complaints all morning.”

MC: “As long as you cooperate in the investigation, I think the evidence gathering will end soon.”

Hotel Manager: “There goes my yearly bonus, I suppose. Go on and ask what you need from me.”

MC: “When did Jiang MingYue make the room bookings? At the time, were the connecting rooms to room 1817 and the executive suites on the 17th floor already booked?”

Hotel Manager: “Miss Shen and Miss Jiang’s rooms were booked under Venus Fashion’s name. But the room next to it, room 1817, was booked by Miss Jiang herself. We never could have known that Mr. Li Zhou would be staying with us. In regards to the executive suites on the 17th floor, 1718 and 1717, both rooms were vacant. No one booked it and no one stayed in it.”

MC: “Then the suites on the 17th floor, were they connected?”

Hotel Manager: “No. The rooms were renovated last year, and any connecting doors were removed for all suites under the 18th floor. If it goes according to plan, the connecting doors will be removed for suites from the 18th to the 30th floor starting next month.”

Mo Yi: “This confirms our previous suspicions, does it not? The rooming situation was premeditated, whether by Jiang MingYue or Shen Xi’s request, it was intentionally planned. The choice of staying on the 18th floor must have been because of the connected suites.”

(Mo Yi’s explanation could very well be concrete. I nodded as I thought of another key problem.)

MC: “There’s another question…”

[Select the Red Wine in Room 1818]

MC: “I saw Romanée Conti on the wine list, but I didn’t see the actual bottle. Does the hotel really offer this product?”

Hotel Manager: “Of course! It is an expensive wine, and I personally dealt with the request in celebration of Miss Shen’s accomplishments. The servers brought it in after making the room last night.”

MC: “Around what time did that happen?”

Hotel Manager: “It was almost 7 PM.”

Mo Yi: “7 PM? Then the banquet had already started…”

MC: “I saw that room 1817 was already cleaned this morning. Was a bottle of Romanée Conti found in that room?”

Hotel Manager: “No, there were no abnormalities when Mr. Li Zhou returned the room key.”

MC: “What about Jiang MingYue’s room? Was the bottle of wine discovered there?”

Hotel Manager: “Rooms 1713 and 1817 are regular rooms, therefore, Romanée Conti isn’t offered on their wine list.”

Officer: “The police have already searched Jiang MingYue’s hotel room and nothing suspicious was found.”

MC: (Where did that bottle of red wine disappear to?)

MC: “The door connecting rooms 1818 and 1817, is it normally locked? Is there only one set of keys?”

Hotel Manager: “Our hotel is considered a legacy of Stellis City; the connecting doors were built according to old safety standards. The door isn’t normally used, so we keep them locked for our guest’s safety and privacy. There were two sets of keys, one of which we keep at the front desk, and the other was given to Mr. Li Zhou.”

Mo Yi: “What was Li Zhou’s reasoning for wanting a set of keys?”

Hotel Manager: “Mr. Li Zhou asked us whether or not the rooms were connected at the time of his check-in. He says he was afraid of paparazzi or fans catching wind of his whereabouts and the connecting door was a liability. So he requested the set of keys kept at the front desk and took them. The keys to rooms 1818 and 1816 were also given to him.”

MC: “That excuse was so unfounded. If he was truly scared of the paparazzi finding him, he should have chosen to stay in a room without connecting doors. If the other person was determined to harass him and invade his privacy, they would have been able to do so if they picked the lock, right?”

(I tidied up the testimony. Even if there were a couple of murky things, there wasn’t anything else, at the time, that I needed to ask the hotel manager for.)

Officer: “The analysis report of the glass shards has been completed. After a search in the citizen database, the dried blood on the shard was determined to be left by Li Zhou.”

MC: “So Li Zhou has been in this room!”

Mo Yi: “The two of them were in this room. Judging by the shattered vase and the fact that he cut himself, they must have been arguing about something.”

Officer: “Shen Xi’s autopsy report has been completed as well, her fingernails have been torn. Compared with the marks left on the connecting door, Shen Xi’s nails must have broke when she was knocking on the door.”

MC: “Then what about the time of death? Was there anything that could shrink the window of opportunity?”

Officer: “No, the suspected time still falls between 9 PM and 2 AM. To add, forensics can confirm that Shen Xi’s death was caused by the consumption of poisoned liquor chocolates. Other than the minute amount of brandy in the liquor chocolates, Shen Xi did not drink last night. We performed mark analysis on the liquor chocolates as well. There were only Shen Xi’s fingerprints, and indentations made from some kind of silk material.”

MC: “Silk product? That’s to say, when the murderer was tampering with the chocolate, they were wearing silk gloves.”

Mo Yi: “Even if it’s not a fingerprint but a silk imprint, it’s still a clue. Officer, even if there is not enough evidence that points to the culprit being Li Zhou… we can confirm that he has an undeniable association with this case. I suggest that Li Zhou be detained as soon as possible. If he possesses key evidence on his person and we’re too late, he’ll be able to destroy it.”

Officer: “We have updated Captain Yan’s team, and they with the idea, but… we broke procedure by taking in Lu JingHe without proper documentation. If we breach protocol again by detaining Li Zhou…”

MC: “But if we wait for the documents to come through, it might be too late. Can’t we expedite the process?”

Mo Yi: “In the face of these rules you call protocol, does Yan’s team not know how to improvise?”

Officer: “That…”

MC: “Dr. Mo, the police must follow set procedures in the justice system. Because of Lu JingHe, the media already has their eyes on the police. If you add Li Zhou to the mix, the case will be blown out of proportion…”

Mo Yi: “I acknowledge the police’s hardship. I'm simply regretful that when one knows the path one must take to exit hardship, one is walled up by rules, a mere social construct. The road ahead stays in sight, but out of reach.”

Officer: “We don't know where Li Zhou went after he checked out of the hotel, we’ll have to check road surveillance to find out and that requires additional clearance. To do so isn’t difficult, but considering the amount of heat Captain Yan’s team is under…”

MC: “What can we do… I got it, I know where Li Zhou is!”

(Under Mo Yi and the officer’s watchful eyes, I took out my cell phone and dialed Cheng Cheng’s number. She’s a paralegal in our firm and is one of my juniors. She’s been with Themis for less than a year and she’s a die-hard star chaser.)

Cheng Cheng: “Sigh, it’s Sunday, why did you call me so early.”

MC: “Early? It’s literally lunchtime, Cheng Cheng!”

Cheng Cheng: “It’s early for me. I was binging dramas until the sun came up.”

MC: “Alright, it’s early, if you say it so. I'm calling about actual business, can you do me a favor?”

Cheng Cheng: “What is it?”

MC: “Can you help me check Li Zhou’s itinerary for today? See if he’s gone on set for a shoot or maybe at an event?”

Cheng Cheng: “Eh? Since when did you start following celebrity news, and to be Li Zhou’s stan on top of that. Stay on the line as I check. There’s a lot of fan apps that you can search to see your idol’s public itineraries.”

MC: “Then I’ll have to trouble you.”

Cheng Cheng: “Hm… Li Zhou might be out of the province for a shoot. There isn’t anything on the app for this week.”

MC: “But he was staying at the Manny Hotel last night.”

Cheng Cheng: “Then it must be his private itinerary. It's not right to expose stuff like that.”

MC: “Where can I find his current-day plans? Like where he is, right now…” Cheng Cheng: “Oi, why would you want to know something like that! It’s an invasion of privacy and it’s not allowed!”

MC: “It’s not like I want to do this, but Li Zhou is connected to the homicide I’m currently investigating. By the time the police find his whereabouts, it may be too late, so I might as well…Sigh, you know what I mean. I have no other options… So you can’t find out where he is?”

Cheng Cheng: “A homicide? My gosh! Then I… why don’t I help you ask my friends if they know any paparazzi or information dealers…”

MC: “Sorry about this, Cheng Cheng. If you could, please do. I’ve put you in a difficult situation.”

Cheng Cheng: “If it gets out that I was looking for private information, my reputation will be smeared in the fandom! Everyone will accuse me. If things go south, they’ll expose me as a sasaeng fan. You owe me big time.”

MC: “Alright, whatever you want as compensation. But don’t reveal the fact that it’s for a case.”

Cheng Cheng: “Of course I know that. Don’t worry and wait for my reply.”

(After the call dropped, I lifted my head to see the shocked expression on the officer’s face. Mo Yi was trying his best not to laugh as he shook his head.)

MC: “It was an emergency, I was at my wit’s end…”

Mo Yi: “Even if I interact with students daily, I’ve always approached the subject of star chasing as a psychological lecture topic. I thought that it was low, but now… perhaps I needed to broaden my horizons. I should not have held onto prejudice for any group of individuals.”

MC: “I’m not too knowledgeable either, it’s all Cheng Cheng…”

(Just then, Cheng Cheng’s message came through. She sure is speedy.)

(“I found it, Li Zhou is at Stellis Airport, his flight is outbound for 12:30 PM, he’s already through security checks.”)

MC: “Li Zhou’s at the airport. His flight takes off in an hour, he’ll be boarding the plane soon!”

Officer: “I’ll head over right away and stop him.”

(The officer ran out while dialing a number on his phone. He must have rushed to inform Yan Wei.)

Mo Yi: “From the looks of it, we’ll have lots of things to ask Jiang MingYue again. Before that, we’ll need to organize the clues we obtained, so… we need to obtain more evidence that pertains to Li Zhou in this room, otherwise, Jiang MingYue will be unlikely to open up to us again.”

MC: “Jiang MingYue still has a chance to commit the crime, but as it stands, her motives aren’t as clear. Unless…”

(A man and two women, the entertainment industry, a fashion house… my mind conjured up something in an attempt to explain it all, in the most logical way possible.)

MC: “Unless her, Li Zhou, and Shen Xi are in a love triangle…”

(Voicing something so gossipy was awkward, but when it comes to a formal investigation, nothing is impossible.)

Mo Yi: “You’re guessing that Jiang MingYue poisoned Shen Xi out of spite and that Li Zhou was simply arguing with Shen Xi and did not intend to kill her?”

MC: “I cannot dismiss the possibility.”

Mo Yi: “I believe that the culprit isn't Jiang MingYue and that it can only be Li Zhou.”

——-

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

——-

《CREDIT》 Translator: Humi Editor: @cL QC: @hallowsivy 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.

《 VOICE ACTORS 》 Mo Yi | Jiang GuangTao: https://weibo.com/jiangguangtao Lu JingHe | Yang Tianxiang: https://weibo.com/u/1745507755 Yan Wei: https://weibo.com/lengquanyeyue Jiang MingYue | V17-Vila: https://weibo.com/u/7360408881

#tears of themis #weiding shijian bu #otome #tears of themis translations #未定事件簿 #weiding shijian bu translations #tears of themis mo yi #weiding shijian bu mo yi #莫弈

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randomfandomz · 5 years ago

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GET READY FOR A LOT OF HUSK HEADCANNONS

Im not sorry–

Depressed as f*ck so he doesnt have the modivation to take care of himself

He drinks mainly to forget, and to releive stress

Not only that but he H A T E S water(not as much as Baxter does, but he still avoids it like the plauge)

He never showers until he absolutely has to

Like his fur is always matted and alchohol scented

And he thinks licking himself clean like non-demon cats do is absolutely out of the question, it is gross and undignified, he doesnt want to lick himself and water makes his fur feel heavy and cold and he w i l l argue with you about this

He hates having fur. He just hates it. Its hard to take care of and things get stuck in it, it gets caught in things and just hhhh h h h H H - NO

Will straight up refuse to shower until Charlie makes him

Everyone in the hotel knows about shower day

The day when they make Husk take a shower because e w g r o s s o l d m a n -

Baxter somewhat sympathizes with him about his hatred of water

Not like he actually shows it or does anything to help him though- because 1) Bax really doesnt give a flying f*ck, he just wants to do science and this doesnt concern science so he couldnt care less, and 2) He doesnt wanna speak up because s o c i a l a n x i e t y . S o c i a l i n t e r a c t i o n ? N o t h a n k y o u .

Hes literally a cat, so he hates water with a burning passion

Husk's self image is kinda... ehhhhhh- I mean, its not like he really is that bad looking, if anything he looks pretty damn cool, but he honestly finds himself pretty unattractive. "The fur and wings d o n t h e l p "

Doesnt care if you call him old unless youre trying to be offensive; Hes proud of his age and experience

Even though he acts like an old man(well, he kinda is, but-) hes actually younger than Baxter, Mimzy, Alastor, Angel, and Nifty

Only Vaggie and Crymini are younger than him

When Husk first arrived at the hotel he didnt really wanna interact with anyone; New places kind of stress him out, so it took a long time for him to adjust and not snap at every little thing

Dont get me wrong, hes still a pissy alchoholic^tm, but the anger is less serious/genuine and more just because thats how he is

Husk fought in the vietnam war, and he attempted(and failed) suicide multiple times after the war until he was eventually beaten to death outside of a bar

He turned to alchoholism and gambling as a coping mechanism

Husk suffers from PTSD(Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), along with the obvious alchoholism and gambling addiction

He is very salty/sad that he's a war vet but died in a bar fight, and wouldn't be remembered for his fighting but rather for being beaten to death in a bar while trying to drink away the feelings he had about not being welcomed home because of the way the media portrayed him and his fellow soldiers that fought in Vietnam

Upon learning that Husk is a vietnam war vet(he mentioned it while drunk off his ass- more than usual) one patron who attended the hotel for a short time told him "Welcome home doc!". Husk was surprised, as he had come to terms with the idea that he would never be thanked or welcomed for his services, but he did make sure to be maybe a bit less pissy to that particular guest. He will never forget them. It meant more to him than he would like to admit.

((I can't really think of a better reason as to why Husk would bring it up, but having seen one or two instances of someone saying "welcome home" to Vietnam war vets, I really wanted to add this. The "Welcome home doc" thing was me referencing a specific instance of this ive seen. Im so sorry if I'm wrongly portraying this in anyway, I tried to do enough research first before typing this part out, but I just wanted to point out that I tried my best to be respectful while talking about the subject.))

Moving on- L A S E R P O I N T E R S

One time Angel was just casually messing around with a laser pointer, out of boredom or something

HUSK'S RESPONSE WAS IMMEDIATE

HE WILL CHASE THAT RED DOT TO THE ENDS OF THE GODDAMN EARTH

"That DAMN RED DOT where the FUCK did iT gO!?"

He HATES that he does this, but he really cannot help it

Being a cat demon, and being Husk, his hunt and kill instinct is through the roof(hunt and kill instinct is why cats chase laser pointers btw)

Was VERY pissy for the next few weeks after this incident

Husk will purr involuntarily whenever someone pets him or strokes his fur

He WILL murder anyone who attempts to pet him or make him purr without consent(*COUGH COUGH* ANGEL *COUGH*)

Same goes for the wings DO NOT TOUCH THE WINGS, JUST DONT-

In his room, Husk's bed is literally a mound of blankets and pillows inside a box

Even he needs to get warm and comfortable after a long day

He never lets anyone in his room

Like n e v e r

Angel snuck in one night- Husk's half asleep drunken a*s shoved him out and yelled at him, waking up practically all the hotel staff and a few guests

In his defense, Angel, upon seeing the sleeping Husk, scratched behind his ears. Husk started to purr, but then snapped to somewhat conciousness, and realized what the f*ck was going on-

Yes, Husk is v e r y defensive

Give him a compliment? He wont accept it under any circumstances. He will probably be flustered and claim that the other is either lying or just kissing up to him

"You know you dont have to kiss my a*s to ask me something, right? The fuck do you want?"

Charlie honestly finds his reaction to compliments very sad

Has a kind of "well ya didnt need to point it out" attitude towards insults

Alastor insults him with the worst names in the book? He accepts it and couldnt give less f*cks

Even if its someone either than Alastor insulting him, usually even if he acts offended and p*ssed off, somewhere in his mind he just accepts it

Usually Alastor is the one insulting him, but in a "best friend rights" kind of way

He likes being creative when it comes to colorful language

"Look out to my sea of f*cks, and see how it is barren"

Doesnt have a "soft spot" for kids like Angel, but doesnt mind lessening the swearing a bit and doing a few magic tricks for the occasional child that somehow found their way to the hotel

He HISSES

If Husk is hissing at you you better f*ckin rUN-

He usually refrains from hissing- its part of him rebelling against his cat-like nature, but if he is openly hissing at you it means he is at his wits-end and is honestly P * S S E D .

sERIOUSLY, F*CKING R U N -

Crymini has a blog documenting all the cat-like things Husk does, and she sometimes does the classic "THIS IS A HUSK IN ITS NATURAL HABITAT" or "LETS SEE HOW THE KITTY REACTS TO THIS NEXT THING" bit, and Husk honestly finds it insulting as f*ck

Crymini pranked Husk with a cucumber(you know how cats on the internet are terrified of them) and Husk was actually scared of it, and he ran up a f*cking tree and wouldnt come down for a solid hour, partly put of legitimate fear, and partly out of spite from seeing the slightly guilty look on Crymini's face after the first 20 minutes of him hiding up there

Being a cat demon, alchohol is actually slightly toxic to him, and he is prone to alchohol poisoning. He usually drinks beer, which has low ammount of ethanol(5-7%)[ethanol is what makes alchohol so toxic to cats]

Baxter has a spray bottle to use on Husk if he is being particularly stubborn or bothersome. Charlie sometimes uses her own spray bottle for similar purposes, but she usually says something like "Bad kitty! No!" Along with it to tease him. Husk finds it humiliating and hates when his fur is wet, so surprisingly the spray bottle thing usually works.

He is demi-panromantic and asexual

H A T E S being touched, like under any circumstances

"The last time I voluntarily made physical contact with another being was in 1970 and it was while I was loosing a bar fight. It was also the day I was beaten to death and setenced to hell."

Bonus:

Angel: Hey kitty~! Wanna cuddle~?

Husk: The last time I voluntarily made physical contact with another being was in 1970 and it was while I was loosing a bar fight.

Angel: Oh really? *snickers* And how'd that work out for ya'?

Husk: Well, it was also the day I was beaten to death and put in hell. So I dunno. You tell me.

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caramell0w · 6 years ago

Text

The Publicist

Hey everyone! I want to post the 1st chapter of my new book, The Publicist. You can preorder it on Amazon here: https://goo.gl/SL5JhG for only .99 pennies! This book i being released 2/2/2019 and is part of The Hollywood Lust Series! All three books will be out his year! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1- Quinn

Caleb Evanstan is every girl’s wet dream. Girls want to be with him, and guys want to be him. He is one of Hollywood’s top celebrities and he is living life to the fullest. Parties, alcohol, women—everything is handed to him on a silver platter. When he is sober, he actually is a decent actor. He has the body of a god and the voice of an angel. Everyone in my line of business wants to get their hands on him; but I’m unlucky enough to get the opportunity.

I’m finishing a press release for a well known rock band. The drummer got caught up in a small drug investigation when he bought some ecstasy off an undercover cop—stupid! Thad, my boss, knocks on my door. I look up at him, a bored expression on my face.

“Hey Quinn, you got a minute?” It is never a good thing when he asks if I have a minute to spare. Usually that means I’m being suckered into something I won’t be happy with; or he is trying to ask me out—again.

“Thad, remember our conversation about when no means no?” I look back at my screen to finish my work as he strolls into my office and sits down across from me.

“I’m not asking you out, Quinn; I won’t make that mistake again.” I give him my full attention, and cross my arms over my ample chest, leaning back in my chair. “You’ve been hired for a job.” He smiles at me, as if it’s supposed to make me want to jump at the opportunity.

“Yay for me. Who and when?” I ask in a bored tone, a smirk crossing my features. I work my ass off to be known as the publicity girl. I kick ass and take names. I have a way of spinning any story to make it work in favor of the client. Let’s just say, I have a way with words.

“Caleb Evanstan. You start tomorrow.”

The smirk drops from my face, I uncross my arms and turn back towards the computer and start clacking at the keys. “No. Give it to Amanda. She can handle the lost puppy.”

He stands up, leans over my desk, planting both hands down in an attempt to show his dominance and his power as my boss. It’s his favorite power move and he knows it doesn’t work on me, but he tries it anyway. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. You’re taking this job.”

I stand and mirror his stance, hardening my stare. “You better be paying me weekend hours, at double time then.”

“You’re salaried.” A shimmer of humor in his eyes.

“Mr. Evanstan doesn’t know that. You will work a big fat bonus into this deal if I have to help him pull his head out of his ass. Once you ensure I have my bonus, I’ll take the job. Otherwise, pass it to Amanda.” My last four words are clipped. He knows I’m not going to back down, and he relents.

He stands up straight and rubs his hands down his face. His actions let me know how annoyed he is. “If I can ensure you a nice payday, will you take it?”

I cock my head to the side and study him. “Why is it so important I take it?”

“Because you, Quinn Harrison, are the biggest bitch in this industry and you don’t take shit from anyone. He needs someone like you so he doesn’t blow his career.” He takes a deep breath, and pushes it out. “Plus, I’m doing this as a favor to my cousin who works for Reel Studios.”

“Ah, so the real reason emerges.” Victory! I knew there was more to this than he was letting on.

“Quinn, you’re the best at your job. You know this, and I know this.” His voice changes tone. “Also, you do know you’re the only person that talks to me like this, right? Everyone else is scared shitless of me; but you could give a rat’s ass. Caleb is going to fight you tooth and nail. I need someone that has a backbone and will push back on him.” He points his index finger in my direction. “That’s you. Amanda wouldn’t last a day around that guy.”

“Sure she would, have you seen her? She looks like a model.”

“Yes. He’ll listen to her long enough to fuck her and send her on her way.”

“Wow, Thad, tell me how you really feel about her.” Amanda is actually an extremely intelligent woman and very good at her job. I don’t like when Thad thinks she’s just a pretty face. I also understand the true meaning of his words. I have a little more meat on me and he is less likely to find me as pretty or as fuckable. Ouch. It hurts, but it’s nothing that I haven’t heard before.

“Quinn, please. You know I wouldn’t send you if I thought you couldn’t handle him.” His voice softens as he speaks the words, his shoulders slouching ever so slightly.

“Can I start on Monday? I have plans this weekend and I would rather not break them.” I have a date and I’m hoping to get lucky.

“No. Steve, his agent was very clear that you had to start this weekend. Caleb is attending a gala to raise money to fight world hunger and he’s the special guest for the evening. You need to make sure he does his due diligence this weekend. He needs to smile for the cameras, give his speech, and talk with the prominent donors; not cause a scene.”

“Sounds like free alcohol and a pretty gown for me. Hope there is a budget for a new dress, Thad. I don’t have anything in my closet that will be acceptable for a gala.”

“I’ll make arrangements to have a few dresses brought to your room at the hotel, so you can try them on. Just give Julie your size before you leave.”

“Just make sure to get that bonus or I won’t be going. You have one hour until I leave, and if I don’t hear back from you before then, I’m out.”

He leaves my office and I sit back down, pulling up a Google on Caleb. I know Thad will get me that bonus, even if he has to pay for it himself. I have to learn everything I can about the superstar; I don’t want to be thrown any surprises during our meeting tomorrow.

With his Wikipedia page pulled up, I begin jotting down notes. He is 32 years old, dark brown hair, dark chocolate brown eyes, and muscles to spare. As I sit drooling over the picture in front of me, an email comes in from Thad.

Quinn,

You will meet him tomorrow at Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Room 7250 at 9 in the morning. You’ll accompany him to and from the event. Make sure he stays sober enough to get through the evening without ruining his reputation. Steve booked you a room next to his.

Thad

P.S.- You would look ravishing in anything red.

I hit reply on the email and think about the perfect snarky remark. It’s going through company email, and while Thad, doesn’t seem to care what he says, I don’t want my ass wrapped up in human resources.

Thad,

I’ll make sure it’s green then.

Quinn

I hear him laugh from down the hall in his office, and I smile to myself. I go back to looking at pictures of Caleb and reviewing anything that could cause issues—past girlfriends, crazy fans, illegitimate children. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of information about his relationships. The only thing I can find is a small article about a girlfriend when he went to his first movie premiere. I double click the image and it expands to the size of my screen. I smile as I look at the picture; they looked happy together and he looked excited, a huge smile plastering his face. So different from the brooding pictures of him that currently grace the covers of magazines.

I study his look, how he held her. He was in love in this picture, there’s no doubt about it. His left arm was protectively wrapped around her waist and he was leaning in towards her. She was looking up at him like he was her everything. She was a little big for normal Hollywood actresses and I don’t recognize the name. She must have been his girlfriend from wherever he grew up.

I close the picture and scroll down to his demographics. He grew up in Winslow, Arizona with one brother named Gabriel, his mom Margaret, and his dad Anthony. The page talks about his early career—the small movies and TV appearances he appeared in, up until his latest movie that launched his career, Keep Her Hidden. The movie is based upon the the hit book series Underground Royalty. I saw it when it premiered last summer, and I would never admit it to anyone but I went back and saw it three more times.

It’s part one of a series of books that I drooled over. I couldn’t put them down. The typical dominant male and submissive girl, except this girl had a backbone. I feel that’s why I enjoyed it. She could handle herself and she gave him a run for his money. Just like any woman who saw the movie, I instantly fell head over heels for Caleb—until I learned what type of person he is. The partying, alcohol drinking, bad boy. The guy that has a string of one night stands; but can never commit. He is the type of man you date when you’re in your early twenties and you want the adventure. He’s not the type of man you settle down with and bring home to your parents.

After looking at a little more information, I unhook my laptop, and shove it in my bag. I stop at Julie’s desk, she smiles up at me.

“Hey Julie, I need anything in a size twelve.”

#new release #new book #the publicist #check it out #available for preorder now

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alotta-lovin · 7 years ago

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I'd really love to know more about you and Dean!! Are you a hunter? How did you two meet? How do you get along with Sam? What's your relationship with Dean like? Do you have pet names for each other? What was your reaction to his first (and other) deaths? How does he react to you getting hurt? Has he ever let you drive baby? How do you both like to relax after a stressful hunt? Have you had any really bad fights? -💜

SURE THING ANON!!! Just so you know its long…as fuck.

Are you a hunter?

I am– i’m a witch as well not a great one or anything either just…small things. So mostly hunter?????

How did you two meet?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH HO HO HO HO HO– ACTUALLY, On a hunt— it was… something. I believe it was a run of the mill Vampire nest if im remembering correctly how we met– i was already pursuing the nest at this point no hell and let alone the knowledge that they were pursuing it at the same time i was and just kinda we came in from different sides and saw each other last minute before the fuckin doors shut letting everyone in the nest know that we were there… So start fighting and killing off the nest one by one when possible…and because im small and i was caught up in my own brain and confused about how i didn’t know others were pursuing this nest that were a team at that and would more than likely have a better chance with it as well than with me goin in on it alone like i originally planned and what i had found out it was a lot bigger than what i fuckin though’ so you can imagine how many times i would snap back to reality when he was yelling “Behind you!” or other directions “Left!” “Turn the fuck around!”.

After a few minutes of it i kinda got annoyed by being demanded after i was actually registering what i was doing and where they were coming from, and with that annoyed anger i started becoming sharper with my swings and hits when needed and I did get hit a few times of course cause im small and maybe got a lil too cocky when getting into the zone more– and Sam was the one to take on the Head of the nest– and after finishing up and with me i burn the bodies of the monsters i kill so i made them help me drag them all out to the back to burn the bodies and such.. And standing there with my hands in my pockets, my machete at my side on the ground from tossing it there and watching the flames glow and trying not to get a headache from the smell of flesh fuckin burning he walked up put his hand out and said “I’m Dean.” and with his other hand using his thumb to point back to his brother “And that’s Sammy”. i took a minute before i wiped the semi dried blood off my hand and onto my jeans as much as i possibly could i grabbed his hand and shook it, cleared my throat and spoke up “And I’m Faith.” letting go of his hand i then put it back in my pocket and turned to face him “Didn’t know you were pursuing the nest at all- sorry if i fucked up any plans you had” which was followed by “Don’t worry about it, i just think a tiny gal like you shouldn’t be going into big cases like that–” “And i don’t think you should be telling me what i can and can not do here, Darlin’. Make sure it burns out for me.” which i then leaned down and pulled my hand back out of my pocket and grabbed my machete and started heading to my Blazer (something probs like this) and waved to Sammy before shaking his hand introducing myself to him and actually exchanging numbers with him if they needed “A tiny gal” to help with a case. then headed towards my car unlocking it and throwing the Machete onto the other side of the seat and getting then proceeding to drive away basically.

How do you get along with Sam?

Not gonna lie– Sam and i get along really well– like the replacement big brother i never had to replace the shit one i got??? its nice. Hell he was the one that fuckin straight up told Dean to stop being a pussy and admit that he had feelings for me cause he wouldn’t shut up about how he was demanding Sammy to message me to see if i was okay and or if i needed help just so he could see me or always asking Sammy “Have you heard from Faith lately” and just– as much as Dean and i get on each others tails about things and annoy the other with small things Sam knew i had feelings for Dean and thats because i told him but it was also the way i treated him??? i guess?? but Sam was the one to fuckin tell Dean to man up and tell me and mean-time-in-between-time IM FUCKIN SITTING RIGHT THERE AND JUST WITH A “wait whut” look on my face before registering what the fuck is happening and hiding my face in the table

What’s your relationship with Dean like?

Its— How do i put this– Okay, so i like doing my own thing, ill listen by rules if needed you know, and ill respect others and i have my own rules too so i follow by those and i have rules for other people, And same goes for Dean you know?

So sometimes things like that get in and sorta make us fight– but its mostly because we aren’t used to feeling like this feeling???? For him its, “Everyone ive loved so far has died and i dont want this to happen but shes being so fuckin— Stubborn about doing this ONE THING!” and for me its “I don’t want to lose this person i feel so strongly for but i dont understand this feeling and he wont listen to this ONE THING and i get that he has his ways and i have mine but…i dont want to lose him…at all.” So its fighting because we love each other but then that leads to lots of love building up more and more worry but also more trust in the other after proving that we’ll be okay. Its..a little all over the place but its also held together well??

Hell if he’s angry and fucking beating a tree with his bare fists im that fuckin girl to sit there and grab a drink and watch him do it while talking to Sam..that or if im working on like something to make me relax like lets say– a Flower necklace and i finished the spell on it ill walk up behind him and put it around his neck and he instantly relaxes…maybe too much cause he ends up falling back onto me and i have to catch him– its a weird but nice relationship if that makes sense?.

Heck– man if he fuckin flirts with a chick im that person to walk up and start flirting with someone as well– It gets him to stop and when he stops ill stop. so he’s slowly learned and is learning “Okay no flirting other than with her” but still does it from time to time.

Do you have pet names for each other?

We have to keep in mind i use pet names for everyone– and when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE. sometimes stuff like “Lil fucker” “Fuckin bitch” “Dipnap” for some odd reason to things like “Sweetie” “Sugar” “Babe” not even kidding. BUT! i have special ones for him.

⁃ Dreamboat (From Me to Dean)⁃ Casanova (From Me to Dean)⁃ Little Darlin’ (From Dean to Me)⁃ Baby Doll (From Dean to Me)⁃ Pain in my fuckin ass (From Me to Dean)(In a loving, irritated/annoyed way)⁃ Tiny Brat (From Dean to Me) (In a loving, irritated/annoyed way)

Phone Contact names : (Both Phones)

Dean:

Phone #1 ⁃ Angel Eyes (Faith)Phone #2 ⁃ Lady Luck

Faith:

Phone #1 ⁃ Hotshot (Dean)Phone #2 ⁃ Knockout

Bonus!:

⁃ Champ (From Me to Sammy) (Sisterly way)⁃ Peaches (From Sammy to Me) (Brotherly way) (His definition for calling me it in his words are : “I think you’re delightful and you’re a sweetie like a peach so, instead of just sis; you know…Peaches?”)

What was your reaction to his first (and other) deaths? :

Okay they basically killed me and each time he fuckin came back i always thought for some fucked reason that some fucking demon or shape shifter was always trying to fuck with me so– you can imagine how many things have been thrown or shot at him– or splashed with holy water as well—

How does he react to you getting hurt? :

Oh god– Okay, so …not good?? but also like a huge worry-wart and if its really bad (I.E. gunshot wounds, deep stabs or extreme wounds) hes not hesitant to start calling for Feather butt–.

Has he ever let you drive baby? :

Yeah actually- a few times, the first time he was very– demanding that i do things a certain way and i got annoyed and fed up with it so i took my foot of the gas and my hands off the wheel, going down hill and crossed my arms and looked over at him while Sam sat in the back mortified and scared cause the car started to drift to the other side of the road with on-coming traffic and all i said with a dead-pan look “You wanna drive then? Be my guest. ill wait” which was followed by “OKAY DO WHAT YOU WANT JUST DRIVE DAMMIT BEFORE WE GET HIT!” “Okay then, thank you” and – it was an experience..needless to say he doesn’t try to boss around my driving. In baby or my Blazer.

How do you both like to relax after a stressful hunt? :

Hot. Showers. even more over if its a bloody hunt too– just…Hot Showers most of the time…and for him lots of drinks while im just having a few here and there and more so drinking tea more than likely. that or…other things.

Have you had any really bad fights? :

Yes. a few actually– they were more so while we were both denying our feelings… The first one was when i was still confused why i got so jealous about him talking to other girls/guys all around and when he would gloat about what pussy he got the night before. but continuing on he started flirting with our waitress while we were at a Diner, i ordered my food, then Sam..then Dean– and of course she was very much okay with it and with how small i am and how i look the age im not which is that of a young child– She more than likely thought i was their little cousin or somethin of that nature, and when she came back with our food after a little while he said thank you and bit his lip as she waved and walked away which was followed by him watching her walk away….I picked up my plate slid out of the booth and dumped it into his lap and threw the plate into his lap as well which i then leaned over the table and grabbed my car keys (we took my Blazer) and walked out driving back to the hotel leaving both Sam and Dean there to walk back with no key-card to get back in….i i think it was over reacting personally but Sam things he deserved it since a few hours before picking me up he was so worried and excited to hear about what had been going on with me and all this other bullsnaps…but that was our first big/really bad “Fight”???? theres more which some have lead in either me getting into my Blazer and driving off and going ghost on him but not Sam for a month or two or if i was holding a bat (most common for me) or a machete and i was close to baby… As much as i hate myself for it but at the time i didnt really care ive put dents in the hood or ive broken the windows or scratched the pant— it was bad… but yeah.

#Alotta-asks #Asks #Gun Powder n' Flower Petals #Gun Powder n' Flower Petals Mention #Gun Powder n' Flower Petals Canons #Supernatural self insert #SPN #Supernatural #SPN Mention #self insert #Dean #Dean Winchester #Anon

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memoriesofthecity · 7 years ago

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oh i'm happy that i can send request that way, i'll make a request that i already send to another blog, but i would like to see your take on this request ok?hope that you dont mind, the format that i want is as headcannon(i find cool hc) the request is : ((((i want the s/o as a pianist, but he is kinda of a idol (like hifumi) and the s/o take the persona boys for a trip, because the s/o is gonna do a recital in some Fancy hotel and after that they would have a week in the hotel for free(1/2)

i want the persona boys deal with the pressure of dating this s/o, like the people talk like “that boy is just dating the s/o because he is famous” “such talent why do he has to be gay”, bonus if the s/o lend a suit to them if they dont have one))) male s/o ofc, the ones which I mean as persona boys is akihiko, minato, akira and ryuji this are My Favorites boys in p3/p5, sorry for making it too long(2/2)

i don’t know much about the piano so i’m sorry if it’s not too accurate in parts where i mention it (i actually play the flute in my school band though), but i hope you like it! and don’t worry, your request wasn’t too long at all!

Minato:

Minato knew what he was in for when he started dating you. He knew that you were a popular pianist, and that since you were popular he would undoubtedly get hated for dating you. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact of how he would get hated for ‘turning you gay’.

When you invited him along to one of your recitals, he was happy that he would get alone time with you. He wasn’t so happy about the fact that so many people would know where you were, and know exactly where to find him. The public knew about your relationship, and your fans, especially females, tried to end it whenever they could. He knew you loved him no matter what they said, but he still felt pressure.

He didn’t let you know that, though. He hid his feelings well. When you got to the hotel, you didn’t have much time to spare, so you just started getting ready immediately. You got dressed first and got your music ready, and when Minato came out in his suit you made sure to tell him how handsome you thought he looked. His face was a faint pink until you ran into your fans who had gotten there early.

Almost instantaneously, shouts of ‘why did you turn him gay!?’ and ‘you’re only dating him for the fame!’ rang out. You looked over at Minato, and he only put his head down and continued walking. You followed behind him.

After your recital, which had a surprising amount of people in the audience, he met you backstage and you tried to hurry back to your room as quickly as possible. Your fans were waiting outside, though, and bombarded you with questions and shouts again. You pushed through the crowd and eventually made it back, but your boyfriend looked pissed.

You asked him what was wrong, and he explained that he had heard somebody say that he was trying to use you to get famous himself. You spent a while telling him that you didn’t think it was true, and him saying that it wasn’t in return. After he told you how much comments like that got to him, he promised you that he would try and stop any other comment from getting to him or you.

With Minato by your side, you spent the rest of the week at the hotel in peace. If anyone did try to approach you, one good cold glare from your boyfriend was enough to scare them away from insulting you.

Akihiko:

Akihiko was popular too, so he knew what would go on if you both started dating. He didn’t care, though. He loved you, and it didn’t matter to him that you were a guy.

When you asked him to come to your recital trip with you, he was excited to get to spend time with you and hear you play! He pushed the thoughts of hate to the back of his mind and agreed. You arrived at the hotel a little late and didn’t have any time to laze about, so you started getting ready once you got to your room. You both complimented each other on your suits, embarrassing each other like you usually did, and left the room.

You both did your best to ignore the shouts of your fans on the way there. You were better at ignoring it than Akihiko, though. He heard shouts of people from Gekkoukan talking about how weak he was because he was gay, and whatnot. He wouldn’t tell you how badly that hurt him, though. It was your day to be happy.

After the recital, you met him backstage and headed out, hand in hand. You had thought nobody would be out yet, but unfortunately there were. You pushed through the crowd, but when you noticed that your boyfriend wasn’t behind you at one point, you turned around and saw him yelling at one of your fans.

They had yelled something about you being a failure of a pianist just because you were gay, and Akihiko did not let that slide. Insulting him, that was fine, but insulting you? Absolutely not.

After singling out the one person, he then started yelling that the entire crowd didn’t deserve to be your fan if they didn’t support you through everything. You pulled him back to your room after seeing the crowd get even angrier, and angrily asked him why he would do that. He told you that he wasn’t going to let anyone insult your talent or you, and that he would do anything to protect you.

..You really couldn’t stay angry at that.

Thanks to Akihiko’s yelling, though, you both finally got some peace during your week at the hotel. You were so glad you had him as your boyfriend, and not one homophobic comment could stop that.

Akira:

Akira wasn’t completely sure why you decided to date him, a criminal, while you were famous, or why you would date a gay criminal, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved you with all his heart.

After hearing you could bring someone to your recital, you knew that you wanted Akira there with you. He agreed, of course, but he told you he didn’t have a suit to wear. You packed one of your own for him, and once he had gotten ready and the hotel and came out with it, you thought he looked amazing in it. You told him, making him blush, but he put on a suave persona and made you blush right back.

You left the room to head to the recital, and were met with your fans’ angry shouts at Akira. You both put your heads down and quickly got into where you needed to be. He made sure not to let you know how much the words affected him.

He met you backstage after the recital. After telling you how amazing you had sounded you left the room, and pushed yourselves through the crowd to get back to your room. That was, until, you heard someone shout something about you dating a criminal.

You instantly turned around, knowing Akira would say nothing to them, and yelled at them that your boyfriend was not a criminal! After yelling a few more choice words to the group, you grabbed Akira by the arm and pulled him to your room.

He thanked you for saying what you did but said you didn’t have to, but you made sure he knew that you wanted to do what you did. You knew that the words they said affected him, and you weren’t going to let them put him down for ‘making him gay’ or ‘being a criminal’.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve you. The rest of the week was spent peacefully, your fans having listened to you. You made sure that Akira expressed more of his thoughts, and Akira made sure to remind you how much he loved you every day.

Ryuji:

Ryuji knew that you dating a ‘delinquent’ wouldn’t slide well with your fans, and it would especially not slide because he was another guy. Although it took a while for him to accept his sexuality, he still loved you and wouldn’t let your fans’ words get to him.

You asked him to be your guest when you heard you could bring someone to your recital. He was super excited to go, and could barely wait. You two got there a while before you had to be there, but that was when Ryuji realized that in his excitement, he had forgotten his suit. Damn.

Thankfully, you packed a spare one just in case yours had gotten dirty, so you let him wear it. Once he came out in it, you thought he looked even more handsome in you clothes, and once you said it aloud he turned beat red.

You both headed out to where the recital was, hoping that since you were there early nobody would be there. Sadly, a few of your fans were waiting for you. While you did get a few shouts of praise, there were still negative comments on Ryuji mixed in with it. You just ignored it, since nothing could stop your love for your boyfriend, but it was a struggle for him.

You met up backstage after the recital, and after he complimented you on your playing you left to return to your room for the night. You pushed through the crowd that had gathered until you heard Ryuji shout behind you.

He started yelling at one of your ‘fans’ who had made a comment that you were worthless and talentless since you were gay and dating a delinquent. He shouted that you were not talentless, and that they had no right to say anything about you like that! It ended up in a fight, but you got him back to the room before anything got physical.

You told him off for yelling, but thanked him for defending you. He told you that he would do anything to make the comments stop completely, but since he couldn’t, he would always be at your side to protect you from them. You said that you would do the same thing for him.

Your week at the hotel was spent without any rude comments, Ryuji’s outburst having stopped anyone from wanting to say anything to them. You made sure to remind him every minute how much you loved him, and that the words people said would never stop that, and he did the same thing for you.

#minato arisato #akihiko sanada #akira kurusu #ryuji sakamoto #persona 3 #persona 5 #headcanons #persona 3 imagines #persona 5 imagines #just--a-pervert-guy

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guardianofjunmyeon · 8 years ago

Text

I’ve Got You (part 10)

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Canon AU, Smut

Description: You work for SM as it’s public relations specialist, and Jongdae is one client that you have to deal with far too often. Sometimes though, he isn’t all that bad.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21.

You drum your fingers against your pajama pants and glance around your apartment uncomfortably.

Thank god you put on pants before opening the door.

You deserve a high-five for thinking quick enough to pull this thick sweater over your tank top clad upper body in the half second you had to say ‘coming’ before opening the door. This could have been so much worse.

“You have a nice home.”

“Thanks,” you say neutrally, focusing your attention to the face of your unexpected guest. A middle-aged man that you know is one of SM’s top lawyers. His face is fairly unpleasant to look at, but you know that it’s from all of the stress that he’s probably been subject to. His glasses reflect the light from your ceiling and his suit is impeccably crisp, black, and clean.

It makes you feel all the more out of place in your house clothes…even though he’s in your house. You shouldn’t be feeling uncomfortable. He came here to talk to you. So, you can’t be in trouble.

They need you for something.

The thought makes you relax and square your shoulders. Sitting more erect in your seat and waiting patiently for what it is that was so urgent that a lawyer came to you.

Unless they know about Jongdae…

Steeling your face, you rest your hands in your lap and keep any emotions that may portray guilt off your face.

“You may be wondering what my reasoning is for coming to your apartment so early in the morning,” he starts in that commanding voice experienced lawyers have. You are unmoved. You’ve dealt with lawyers, journalists, other PR people. You’re used to playing this game.

“I assume it must be urgent since you arrived without giving me any kind of forewarning. I don’t recall any mention of representatives being able to come to my home unannounced anywhere in my job contract,” you say pointedly adding a smile to soften the words.

He laughs, but it lacks any genuine humor. “I apologize for this. It could not wait until Monday and I was in the neighborhood,” he explains. You nod in understanding even though you don’t know what that has to do with anything. “Let me get to the point. I’ve been tasked to ask you to go on the North American leg of the EXO’rdium tour.”

You resist the urge to choke on your spit. You? On the tour with them!?

“May I ask why I’ve been chosen to do an assignment that has nothing to do with what I was hired for?”

“After…last year’s rocky concert in the West we felt the need to have a representative from the company who is experienced enough in dealing with controversy and miscommunication there to act as something like a translator for the team. Because you went to college in a western university and are in charge of your department, you were the obvious choice. You would be on call the whole time, but we will be paying you a bonus for the time, effort, and abruptness of the request.

“You would have to be present on stage during the ments to translate. Fans were unsatisfied with the translators we found last year, and because of your familiarity with the group and with the language you’ll be translating in, you’ll be able to give the most accurate translation to the fans. You would of course be housed in the same hotel, but you will arrive and depart separately to avoid any…misconceptions. We’re prepared to negotiate with you on the terms of the project because of your known…” he smiles sourly “…unfriendly relationship with a particular member of the group.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes.

He clears his throat and continues on, “We wanted to get the offer the you as early as possible so that you have enough time to think it over. We would appreciate a response as soon at Tuesday. You can reach me or my colleagues at-”

“One moment, let me grab my phone so that I can save this.” You jump up from your couch and swipe your phone off the charger. They actually want you to go overseas for work? They almost never have you leaving your office for anything like this. You’re extremely tempted to go. For a bunch of reasons.

Hey, a bonus. That’s fucking awesome. And traveling? Heck yes. It’s…kind of, you know, a plus that you might be able to hang out with Jongdae…if you’re careful.

You open up your notepad on your phone and type down names and emails as he rattles them off. Once he’s done he hands you his business card for extra measure, (you’ve already got like 30 of these sitting in the junk drawer in your office), and thank him by taking it.

Just as he stands up to leave your god damned phone starts to aggressively buzz on your couch cushion. You see the name flash on your screen clearly.

Jongdae.

The lawyer sees it as well and quirks an eyebrow in question. “Do…all of your clients have your personal number?”

You sigh. “Yes. It’s the easiest way to reach me in emergencies. If you wouldn’t mind…I need to…attend to whatever catastrophe has occurred.” The man nods in understanding as you swipe up your cell and hold it to your ear while guiding the guest to your door. “What the fuck do you want now? If I hear a single word out of your mouth about lost sex toys I’m going to quit this fucking job and dedicate my life to eradicating every sex shop off the planet only so your next representative doesn’t have to deal with this shit,” you growl into the receiver of the phone.

You smile at your guest and hold your door open for him to exit, he bows and send you an uncomfortable, but no longer concerned with your call, smile back.

“Whoa where the hell did this come from!? Listen, that was once and I apologized and you were fine with it before why are you guilt tripping me again? You aren’t actually going to quit, right? Hey! Are you still there?” you close the door to your apartment and exhale in relief while Jongdae rants on the other end of the line. “Yah, did she hang up on me? I can’t believe-”

“I’m here,” you interrupt his mumbling to himself to reestablish your presence. “And yah? Banmal? I’m older than you, you little shit.”

“You heard that?” he asks sheepishly. You snort. “Noona-”

“Don’t try kissing up again. You only call me noona when you’re in trouble.”

“Because I am in trouble and it makes you less mean. And also, why am I in trouble exactly? I called and you started yelling at me!”

You trod over to your couch and sit down with a groan. “A lawyer came to my apartment, when I picked up he was leaving and he’d seen you calling.”

“Shit. Is everything okay? Did he threaten you? Did he pull out photos and tell you that you have no option but to go in hiding?”

“This isn’t a gangster movie…but yeah I’m fine.”

You hear his voice muffle as he moves away from the receiver to talk to someone in the room with him. You look around your room patiently waiting for him to give some kind of signal that you need to hang up. It’s not like…you’re scared of his members finding out but it would be…yet another thing you’d have to deal with. As yourself and then as their PR official.

“Sorry, Baekhyun came in the room and caught me on the phone, but it’s fine! He doesn’t know it you,” he tells you. “What did the lawyer want?”

“Oh…uh it was a kind of job offer-”

“Are you changing jobs?!”

“Jesus Christ let me finish!” you laugh. “I’m not changing jobs. I’m still stuck here with you guys.” He sighs in relief and you smile to yourself. “They…want me to work overseas for a bit as a translator, and on site as a PR representative for…you guys. On your American leg of your tour,” you reveal.

“Really!? You’re joking right? You’re tricking me!”

“I’m not! He just came in to propose it to me. It’s still on the table though, I have until Tuesday to accept or decline.”

“You’re coming right? You have to. Please!”

“I need to think this through. And so do you! It’s not like this is some vacation. I’d still be working, and so would you and it’s not even like…we can be together while being together. Are either of us…ready to do something like this? It’s a risky move and could be a huge step if I were to agree to go.”

He goes quiet. “You’re right. However, I trust you and know that you won’t do anything that will put either of us at risk. And I’ll be on my best behavior. We’ll…act the way we do at the office. It will be entirely professional; I don’t want you to turn down an offer like this just because you’re afraid that I don’t have enough self-control to be around you as a coworker.”

“No, no it’s not you Jongdae. I do trust you. I know that you wouldn’t do anything dumb. You’re smart and usually good at this whole idol thing. I’m just…I don’t know. I don’t know if I can handle this.”

“What do you mean you don’t know if you can handle…this?”

“I don’t know Jongdae. Just…it would be so easy to get caught if I go. If I go…as a girl I’m already going to be attacked for being around you all and if your fans get even the slightest feeling that there’s something going on between the two of us, I-I’m fucked. I’ve dealt with lawsuits but I’ve never been on the receiving end on actual death threats. I’ve read them. I’ve seen the attacks. I…I wouldn’t be able to handle something like that if it were to actually happen to me okay.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know! I’m just thinking that this isn’t a good time for us to be doing…this. You know? Maybe…”

“I’m coming over.”

“What?”

“We aren’t having this talk over the phone. If you want to breakup I want you to say it to me in person.”

“Y-You can’t! Aren’t you in-”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he says before hanging up the phone. Silence greets you on the other end of the line. You stare at the device in horror. Is he actually flying over? Now? What the fuck is wrong with him!? You try dialing his number again but it goes straight to voicemail.

Shit.

#exo #jongdae #chen #kim jongdae #chen fluff #jongdae fluff #chen story #chen fanfic #exo imagines #exo reactions #exo fanfiction #sm entertainment #exo imagine

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theclaravoyant · 8 years ago

Note

Barbara Ann verse: Little Bobbi has a nightmare but mommy isn't crying in her sleep for once so she doesn't want to wake her up. Luckily she's found and she can sleep with grandma and grandpa. Bonus of Daisy panics looking for her in the morning.

AN ~ I LOVE Grandpa Phil & Grandma May :P This is slightly more elaborated than what you ask for but I hope you like it anyway.

features Daisy & (Lincoln’s daughter) Bobbi-Ann, & (non biological) ‘Grandpa’ Coulson and ‘Grandma’ May.

Read on AO3 (~1600wd)

Sounds Like a Song [Bobbi Ann Verse] - Part 3

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Coulson insisted. “Shield can pay! It’s not a problem, Daisy. I promise.”

Daisy looked around at all the pleading faces and landed on her daughter’s.

“I want to stay,” Bobbi-Ann stated. With a firm pout and tightly crossed arms, her mind was clearly made up, and from the group that had gathered closer and closer in around her, throwing in suggestions for how Daisy could wrangle it even with her restrictions, there was a small army of people – of family – on Bobbi’s side. It was a little frightening, if Daisy was being honest, having them all gang up like that, but it also made her feel profoundly safe somehow, in a way she had been lacking for years.

Turning her attention to Coulson with an exaggerated sigh, she declared:

“Fine! The Queen has spoken apparently.”

Coulson nodded resolutely and took out his phone to make the booking, warning Daisy –

“But no room service.”

Daisy rolled her eyes, and smiled. Coulson walked away to arrange hotel rooms near the base, since Daisy had been resolute about not staying here, and Daisy turned her attention back to the team gathering.

“You’d think having like, ten parents would be stricter on a girl,” Daisy lamented.

“I had enough of a time parenting you three,” May remarked, gesturing from Daisy to where Fitz and Simmons were talking animatedly to Bobbi. “I haven’t really tried with an actual child before.”

Daisy started. She’d heard the story of Bahrain; stories about how it had changed May; even the hint of what it had changed about her view of her life. About her want for a family. Perhaps, had things gone differently, May might have had a daughter of her own.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” May insisted. “See, this is why I never told anyone. But you – you’ve got to look after yourself. I told you, I lived in a box. Don’t make my mistakes. Bobbi needs you.”

Daisy crossed her arms, feeling defensive but unable to deny how close May had come to the truth of the situation. Of course, of course Bobbi-Ann needed her, and needed her to be at the top of her game as much as possible, but Daisy didn’t often like to acknowledge to herself the lengths she would go to keep them independent. Ties had caused pain as much as love and it hurt to try and reach out again, and she was more hesitant, more defensive than she would admit even though it was all she really wanted, at the same time, to be back. As usual, she was straddling two worlds, two lives. She felt safe and pleasant enough, but how long would it last this time? Dare she make an effort if it was all going to collapse in on her again?

Don’t make my mistakes.

Daisy sighed.

“Y’know, sometimes I hate how well you do that,” she remarked. May smirked, satisfied, and strolled off now that her mission was accomplished. Daisy chased after Bobbi-Ann and Fitz and Simmons, eager to catch up with them, and maybe to reach out after all.

“Can we stay with my aunties and uncles forever?” Bobbi-Ann asked that night as Daisy tucked her into the hotel bed. It was late, and Bobbi’s eyelids were drooping, but she had a towel that someone had balloon-animalled into a rabbit shape for company and seemed satisfied enough with that. Daisy kissed her forehead.

“Forever’s a very long time,” Daisy explained.

“I know, but I love them. I want to stay here forever.”

“They love you too, honey,” Daisy assured her. “But we don’t live here.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s a hotel. It’s where people go to stay for a short time.”

“Can we go where Aunty Jemma and Uncle Fitz live?”

“No!” Daisy laughed gently. “That’s their house. They already live there. It would be silly for all of us to live there.”

“But lots of people live where they live! In slats. We could live in a slat too.”

“You mean a flat?” Daisy checked. “What about our apartment, where we live? Don’t you miss that one?”

Bobbi shook her head. “I like this one. I want to live here forever.”

Daisy smiled. Her child had a keen logic and problem solving skills, but not a strong ability to find her own limits and know when she was fighting a losing battle against her own capacity. Just like – well, a lot of people in Daisy’s former line of business, to be honest.

“We’ll have to talk about that another day, okay?” Daisy crooned. “Mummy’s going to bed now, and little Bobbi should too.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” Bobbi said.

“Goodnight, sweetie. Sleep tight. Remember, I’ll be right here if you need me.”

She kissed Bobbi-Ann again and moved across to the other single, a few feet away. It wasn’t that spectacular of a hotel room. It wasn’t appalling, of course, but very simplistic and with the all-important hideous bedspreads. It felt disturbingly familiar, in that it felt too much like that little apartment – like the place she was supposed to call ‘home.’ But not the place she felt it.

Daisy felt home where Bobbi-Ann did. With the ‘aunts and uncles’ that made up her team. Her family. The place and the people that had always tried to protect her, in one way or another. They were her home, hotel room or no. It felt strange to contemplate staying with them, even now, but the more Daisy thought about it, the more she thought… maybe.

Bobbi-Ann woke with a start. She was biting her towel-rabbit, quite ferociously, although she couldn’t remember why. A dream, a bad dream. She was being chased. Running. Swimming? A shark, maybe?

“Mom?”

Her voice came out a whimper, tiny in the dark. It shook like her whole body shook. It was all quite overwhelming and she felt herself crying, and she wouldn’t be able to explain it all out loud. She felt a bit like screaming, too, but that wouldn’t do much good since she was already awake. If she could get a hug, get some reassurance and protection – get Mom. Get Mom.

She was scared to use her voice, like maybe whatever it was that had been chasing her would be able to hear, but her Mom could protect her. Mom always made things better and made the nightmares go away. She had her own nightmares sometimes, she said, and that’s how she knew how to fight them.

“Mom?”

Her voice was still barely audible, so Bobbi-Ann sat up. She was in a room, not her room but a bedroom. Not school or the ocean or wherever they had been chasing her. And Mom, who was usually moving around and talking in her sleep, was still and relaxed, like how sleeping people were supposed to be. Maybe, tonight, she wasn’t having a nightmare. Maybe Bobbi herself had even had her Mum’s nightmare instead. Either way, Bobbi didn’t want to wake her up. The bad dream was finished now anyway, and she could get her hug from somewhere else – like Grandma and Grandpa, who were living (or not-living, apparently, since this was a ‘hotel’) down the hall.

Clinging to the towel-rabbit Uncle Hunter had given her, Bobbi-Ann carefully and quietly opened the door and padded down the hall to where Grandma and Grandpa had told her they were sleeping. She tried to open it, but it was locked of course, so she had to knock instead. After another turn, and a bit of a wait, and just as she felt the creepy chasing feeling start to come back and make her nervous again, the door opened. Grandma May was wearing a dressing gown robe and didn’t look that bothered at being woken up. She almost looked happy, like she thought it was funny, but when she saw that Bobbi was upset she looked serious again.

“I had a bad dream,” Bobbi explained, “but Mommy’s asleep.”

Grandma May invited her inside and led the way to the bedroom, where she announced that they had a “guest.” Grandpa Phil – who looked a lot older without his suit on, in a white T-shirt and grey shorts – smiled at her from where he was sitting on the side of the bed, and waved Bobbi-Ann over with a smile. Bobbi gaped and pointed.

“Grandpa!” she cried. “You don’t have a hand!”

“Yes, that’s right,” Grandma May said, steering Bobbi-Ann toward the bed. “And I’m sure he’ll tell you lots of stories about why he doesn’t have a hand in the morning, but for now it’s time for little Bobbi Ann Johnsons to be asleep like their mother. Hm?”

Bobbi-Ann pouted. She was looking forward to the hand stories, but she really was tired.

“Can I at least have a hug?” she asked. “Mom gives me a hug when I have nightmares.”

“I think that’s a very reasonable idea, don’t you Grandma May?” Grandpa Phil smiled, like he was telling a joke. Grandma May rolled her eyes, which seemed to mean that she thought it was funny, and hugged Bobbi-Ann before lifting her onto the bed. Grandpa Phil hugged Bobbi too, and as they finished preparing for bed, gestured to where his high-tech prosthetic sat on the dresser across the room.

“Your Uncle Fitz built me a very special, clever hand,” he said, “because my real one got chopped off with an axe! It was very dramatic and heroic.”“Phil!” Grandma May scolded. “Don’t give the girl more nightmares.”

She turned off the light and they all settled in, and Bobbi wondered what could be dramatic and heroic about getting your hand chopped off, but she didn’t really think about the chopping so much, so nightmares weren’t really a problem anymore. She was with her family – her dramatic and heroic family – and that was all that mattered.

#aosficnet #aospositivitynet #daisy johnson #may & daisy #aosteam #bobbi ann verse #challenge: misformarch #Anonymous

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onlinehotelbookings · 6 years ago

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Will You Learn A Lot From This Hotel Advice?

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With all of the hotels available, choosing one can be hard. Research proves crucial as a result. Establish your price range, list the things that the hotel needs to have to accommodate you and start planning. You will enjoy your hotel stay by using the following advice.

To help you make a good choice, you should check out hotel review websites like TripAdvisor online. This will give you valuable information about the recent experiences of people at each hotel. Factor former guests’ reviews into your final decision.

TIP! When checking for good prices at hotels, refer to online travel sites like Orbitz and Expedia. Join the loyalty program for any hotel chain that you love and believe you’ll stay with often.

Online travel sites like Expedia or Orbitz can help you get the best price for rooms at the hotel you would like to stay at. If you belong to a hotel’s loyalty program, be sure to input that information when checking rates. If you have a membership in any other organization, put that down as well.

Consider ordering room service during your stay. Room service generally costs more than ordering out; however, it is nice to be able to order a meal in the middle of the night if you so choose.

If you belong to any organizations, check with them for travel deals. Many of them offer hotel discounts to members. A lot of people don’t use these discounts, and you may save 10% or even more. This can add up to big savings, even more so if you will be staying for many nights. If you are staying for a week, you can pay for a whole night’s lodging with these discounts.

TIP! Make sure you put your valuables inside the safe in your hotel room. Valuables can be placed there with confidence, allowing you to enjoy your day without worries.

When picking a hotel, there is a lot to think about. Price is one thing you should consider, but when you get a hotel you may want it near a certain place. Amenities that help you choose a hotel are free breakfast, free Wi-Fi, exercise room, pool, and a restaurant on the premises. Try to get yourself a hotel with what you need in it when possible.

Make use of online tools to find a hotel. Some websites are designed to help you find the best deals. You can see the average price of the rooms, and you can check to see how those rates stack up to the rates you’re being offered now. You can also use them to explore the area around the hotel for recreation.

See if you can get a hotel discount through AAA if you are a member. AAA members actually receive hotel discounts at specific hotel chains! Membership in AARP, a union, an auto club or even being a police officer can get you a discount. When you stay for multiple nights, the savings really add up.

TIP! Check with the organizations that you are a member with. Many organizations provide hotel discounts for members.

If you want to keep up your running regimen on the road, make sure that your packing list includes lots of running clothes and a GPS watch. In this way, you can simply suit up and enjoy your workout as usual while on the road. No matter if you’re on city streets or down some roads, you can easily learn new things about a city doing this.

Loyalty Program

If you go out to travel quite a bit, it’s good to get signed up for a hotel’s loyalty program. A loyalty program offers many benefits. Enjoy late check out, bonus upgrades and free nights with the loyalty paints you have earned.

TIP! Check online for great hotel deals. Lots of times, when you book a room, they don’t tell you about online discounts.

If you tend to stay at the same hotel a lot, see about signing up for their frequent guest program. These are similar to frequent flyer programs. They allow you to accrue points during your hotel stay. They add up to free nights, discounts at hotel restaurants, show tickets, spa deals and a whole lot more.

If preserving the environment is of interest to you, you can chose a “green” vacation. Fortunately, many green hotels exist nowadays. Some new buildings are certified as green. Many older hotels are environmentally aware and have eco-friendly measures in place. Check online or ask a travel agent for help.

In order to avoid any surprise charges, inquire about hotel transfers prior to booking. This is especially important if you run across an unbelievable deal. Inquire before you book, so you aren’t hit with an unexpected price increase.

TIP! Check out your room ahead of unpacking. Is the room free of mildew and mold and clean? Does the plumbing work right? Have the staff provided all the necessary soap, shampoo, towels, etc.

If you travel frequently, you can maximize your hotel benefits by looking into reward programs from large hotel chains. This allows you to earn point you can redeem for vacation freebies for you and your family.

Aaa Membership

Get an AAA membership for hotel perks when you travel. Not only do AAA members get hotel discounts at many chains that are well worth the AAA membership, but you can find it a lot easier to find a rental car where you go. People that have young kids will get a car seat for free in a lot of different places.

TIP! Don’t assume your hotel is pet-friendly. Always call to ask, even if it says pet-friendly online.

If you are traveling with children, be sure the hotels you book have clean swimming pools that are up and running. It will be a huge disappointment if you arrive at the hotel with the kids ready to swim and they are not able to do so.

Make sure to ask up front if the hotel you’ll be staying in allows smoking or does not. If you are a non-smoker, then you should probably stay away from hotels that allow smoking. Even if you book a non-smoking room, smoke can enter your room through air vents. Sometimes, smokers rent non-smoking rooms because that is all that is available, and then they smoke in them anyway. If you don’t want to smell like cigarettes after leaving your hotel room, you might want to look for a non-smoking hotel.

You should always be aware whether or not the hotel allows pets. If you’re scared of pets or have allergies, you may not want to stay in a pet friendly hotel. These hotels sometimes have odors because the carpet and linens have absorbed them. You may get charged extra for having a pet, but a lot of places don’t charge all that much. It might not be adequate to the cost of cleaning demands.

TIP! Think about these three things if you plan to bring a pet with you during your hotel stay. Take time to ensure that the hotel you’re booking is, in fact, pet-friendly.

As you can see, it is possible to find a terrific hotel at a great price. As you plan, keep these tips in mind. In the end, your reward will be a comfortable and affordable hotel room that you love.

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bennymatchett-blog · 7 years ago

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حجز فنادق تركيا Vacation Suggestions At Your Fingertips

Travel is a excellent way to broaden your horizons and learn much more about the world. Cruises have some of the biggest actions, فنادق تركيا اسطنبول equally on the ships and in port. This report can help you enjoy your vacation to the fullest. Getting an amusement package deal when checking out a town with a lot of points of interest can save you time and funds. An enjoyment deal obtained in advance normally consists of tickets to a number of spot sights, typically at a discounted fee. This will take significantly of the tension out of a trip, allowing you to stroll previous the long strains at the ticket counter when you get there and get straight to the exciting. Preparing a street trip entertainment kit for youngsters can support make certain your family trip is a desire as an alternative of a nightmare. There is no better way to see the country than a road vacation. Nevertheless, it is important that your young children stay entertained in get to battle the boredom of a lengthy automobile journey. حجز تركيا Pack journey variations of popular game titles, cards, and older young children could appreciate a journal in which to doc their activities.

When scheduling a resort room, don't be scared to negotiate. Whilst numerous hotel clerks aren't ready to transfer also significantly on value, there may be other benefits they can provide, these kinds of as foods or parking. In some instances the desk employees just isn't in a position to provide reductions or packages until the visitor particularly asks about them. Often permit someone know when you are planning to travel. Although sudden excursions and spontaneous travel could appear like a good thought at the time, it is not so wonderful if something goes awry. Letting a good friend, family members member or neighbor know you will be absent and exactly where you are going is always a good notion. Speak to that particular person as shortly as you achieve your location. Enable them know when you will be coming property. You will be glad you did. A wonderful travel suggestion is to store around on the web for the very best resort deal. There are lots of websites such as Priceline.com, exactly where you can locate and guide the very best lodge deal. Web sites like these are fantastic due to the fact they contain all of the information in 1 area rather of you possessing to go looking for it all. If you are not fascinated in striking up a discussion with your seat mates, make sure you provide together massive, sound-cancelling headphones. Most men and women will not try out to strike up a conversation with somebody who is certainly not intrigued in conversing. These have the added bonus of blocking out the seems of infants crying or individuals chatting while you chill out. Make your travel plans without having locking by yourself into progress scheduling. While you can get a excellent offer this way, you are questioned to pay out in advance for the length of your vacation, and you do not have the overall flexibility to cancel or adjust the dates of your journey. Especially if you know that your plans could alter, spend a small more and stay at a hotel that will let you change the dates of your stay up until finally a day before your arrival. Ahead of touring on a road excursion, appear up with two distinct routes 1 ought to contain a variety of landmarks while the other ought to give you a direct route to your destination. By obtaining two routes planned, you can be flexible depending on your demands. If you start to operate out of time, consider the quicker route. Normally, go on the scenic route and take pleasure in seeing some of the nearby landmarks. Check what types of files are essential for entry in your country of vacation spot. A passport on your own, does not ensure entry into every country. Although some take a passport by itself, other folks may possibly have special requirements (these kinds of as unstamped web pages in your passport book), and some demand you to have a visa. حجز فنادق اسطنبول Provide a dry erase board and markers with you when you are touring on a cruise ship. Put these items up on your door you will now have an less difficult time identifying your space, and your family members can publish notes on it to inform you in which they are likely. Put together the dry erase board A resort is someplace that you can keep when you're not about your own residence. Typically, lodges can price you a small bit of income and that is why it truly is critical to know what to seem for in one. Right here you are going to locate some resort recommendations. This is why you need to read along. To locate the ideal deals on hotels think about a vacation agent. Numerous moments vacation brokers can locate superb resorts at a excellent price. 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Many moments, the man or woman you guide your room with will not inform you that you can get a discount on the web. So, it's up individually to you to go browsing for this sort of reductions. Check out out web sites this sort of as Jetsetter, RueLaLaTravel, and SniqueAway. Do not feel foolish when it arrives to asking a hotel's guest agent some concerns. If you are looking for tranquil and peace, you want to inquire ahead to be positive you will get it. For occasion, is the lodge as well near to an airport? Is there building likely on nearby. Know this prior to reserving with a lodge. To keep your actual physical health and fitness heading when you are on the road, when you verify into a resort, check out the fitness center. Even in fitness centers in which you only see a treadmill or two and a set of dumbbells, you can still get in a bodyweight workout and a cardio regimen. It could not be perfect, but it receives you through until finally you are back again on your residence turf. 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You generally have to uncover them oneself. Basically call potential resorts and request them if they have any promotions or discount rates. Discover out if the lodge you want is smoking or non-using tobacco. If you are a non-smoker, you may well want to remain absent from lodges that supply using tobacco rooms. فنادق جزر المالديف might be in a position to get a non smoking rooms nevertheless, but you can get smoke in the air which will stick to you. Sometimes, people who smoke lease non-smoking cigarettes rooms and smoke in them. If you want to avoid smelling like cigarettes when you depart, you might احسن موقع لحجز الفنادق desire to consider a non-smoking cigarettes lodge. If possible, consider to stay in a lodge for the duration of the off-year. Most accommodations know how desperate individuals are to find a room for the duration of the journey year. They are likely to jack up their prices since they know folks are inclined to pay for the place. If you go for the duration of the off-time, you will get big reductions! افضل فنادق المالديفIf you are hunting to save income on your following vacation, it is a good concept to book a resort that has an in-space kitchen area. A lot of spots have total kitchens that consist of a countertop selection and a fridge. Getting ready your possess meals will conserve you money given that you will not need to have to pay out for place support or restaurant foods. Stay away from sleeping underneath the bedspread. Sheets and blankets are washed regularly, even though bedspreads typically aren't. This bedspread could be a resource of germs. Just consider that blanket off the mattress. If the hotel you in which you are being has a pool, locate out what the policy is with regard to pool towels. Some accommodations supply towels in the pool area or at the front desk. Other folks allow you to use the bathtub towels. Nonetheless other people anticipate you to supply your own pool towels. Question about this when making reservations, and pack accordingly.

Depend on افضل فنادق المالديف and critiques much more than all round stars. Star rankings can be extremely deceiving these times. It really is better to count on what sincere men and women have to say about the lodge. Rankings and even more importantly critiques supply that. Dig by way of them prior to determining on which lodge to keep at. Working on acquiring a lodge will now be some thing you can do simply because you know what to count on. This report is just one of many out there that can educate you items. Truly feel free to read over this once again the following time you have to get a hotel so you know what to do. before you go away for the journey by gluing magnets to the back of it. Constantly have a little bag in your baggage. Either a collapsible duffel or backpack that can be very easily stored presents you the selection of returning with things this sort of as gifts, souvenirs or even obligation totally free things. حجز فنادق في انطاليا Whilst it could be a single more bag to verify, you can keep away from probably higher weight expenses from stuffing these products into your regular baggage. Have a list of crucial toll-cost-free numbers, and maintain it independent from your wallet. Make a listing of the toll-free of charge make contact with figures for your bank, as effectively as your credit rating playing cards. فنادق تركيا اسطنبول Preserve it different from your wallet, so if it becomes lost or stolen you can quickly and very easily notify the institutions and get the playing cards canceled. As earlier said, cruises are a very good way to see diverse areas when you vacation. Cruise ships give you a good deal to do on the ship, but you can also tour different locales. Use this tips to get the most out of your excursion.

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touristguidebuzz · 7 years ago

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How to Spend 4 days in Niagara Falls with Kids

Things to do in Niagara Falls, Ontario

Niagara Falls is arguably the most popular natural attraction in Canada. The Canadian Rockies and Banff National Park are also worthy of such a title, but these powerful waterfalls in Ontario attract the most tourists each year.

It is estimated that over 30 million people visit Niagara Falls each year, with numbers consistently increasing every year. That number is close to the entire population of Canada!

There are three waterfalls that make up the collective Niagara Falls, with the largest being Horseshoe Falls, followed by the American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls. The river splits Canada and the USA and acts as a natural border crossing between the province of Ontario and the state of New York.

How to spend 4 days in Niagara Falls with Kids

While the powerful waterfalls are truly spectacular, there are plenty of other reasons to choose Niagara Falls as your next family vacation.

Today, we share the top family attractions in Niagara Falls. We spent 4 days exploring Niagara Falls this past summer during the last week of August (2017).

It should be noted that you could easily spend a full week exploring Niagara Falls. There are plenty of family activities and daily entertainment to keep everyone busy. Your kids will not be bored!

For more detailed info, read the Niagara Falls travel guide.

First – check out the amazing waterfalls!

This one is so obvious it’s almost not worth mentioning. BUT – you can’t visit Niagara Falls without witnessing the natural wonder that made it famous.

The easiest and most accessible way to see the falls is to walk along the promenade that lines the river gorge. You can start your walk at the Table Rock Welcome Centre and walk north towards Rainbow Bridge, of vice versa. The promenade is stroller friendly and there are plenty of grassy areas and benches to take a break. There are several lookout points that offer great photo opportunities.

You will get a completely different view of the falls from the American side (for this article – we’re making the assumption you are on the Canadian side of the falls). This requires you to walk or drive across the international border crossing this is Rainbow Bridge.

We did not cross the border on this trip to Niagara Falls, but we’re told it’s a relatively simple process.

Stroller friendly views of the falls from the promenade.

When you stand on the north side of Horseshoe Falls you will get sprayed from the mist of the waterfalls. Even if the weather is sunny with clear skies, it will feel like rain as you approach the waterfalls.

The two photos above were taken within a few minutes of each other. The photo of Nicole with the boys shows a sunny and dry afternoon. We walked another 100 meters and the streets are wet with big puddles. It did not rain. The intense mist from the falls makes it feels like its raining heavily.

Travel tip – Bring a waterproof jacket with you and cover your stroller before you get close to falls. We made this mistake and got soaked.

A rare couple selfie with the falls in the backdrop.

Journey Behind the Falls

Journey Behind the Falls offers an exceptional view of the powerful waterfalls from the base of Horseshoe Falls. You access the falls from the Table Rock Welcome Centre and take an elevator down 150 feet to an underground tunnel network that is over 100 years old.

The main observation deck provides the best view of the falls (see photo above). It’s quite the site. The mist from the falls feels like a shower of rain and the sound of the rushing water is deafening. It’s a unique experience unlike anything we’ve experienced.

For info on pricing and hours of operation, visit the Niagara Parks website here.

Niagara’s Fury

While you’re at the Table Rock Welcome Centre or checking out the Journey Behind the Falls, you can add the Niagara’s Fury experience to your itinerary. It is included with the Niagara Falls Adventure Pass.

Niagara’s Fury tells the story of Niagara Falls in a 360 degree multi-sensory theater. It’s part movie, part ride. You will get wet, so make sure you put on the waterproof poncho that is handed out at the theater entrance.

Here’s the description from the Niagara Parks website:

“Water will bubble and spray as you travel down river, while snow falls all around simulating the last Ice Age. The moving platform beneath your feet will help you understand the power of nature as you’re surrounded by stunning visuals of the mighty Niagara River.”

Maid of the Mist or Hornblower Boat Cruise

The oldest and best known tourist attraction at Niagara Falls is the Maid of the Mist and/or the Hornblower boat cruise. The Maid of the Mist is operated exclusively from the New York side of the falls (United States) and the Hornblower is operated from the Ontario side (Canada).

The boat cruise takes guests up close to the base of the American, Bridal Veil and Horseshoe Falls. The boats have outdoor observation decks, so you will get wet when the boat approaches the falls.

You can take a tour during the day or at night. Boats sail every 15 minutes in season, from April 1 to November 30. More info and pricing here.

If you look at the photo above you will see a red boat and a blue boat. They’re both white boats, actually. The red and blue you see are plastic rain jackets on passengers. I’m not sure what the capacity is for each boat, but there are a couple hundred people on each of those vessels pictured above.

Read Next – 28 Powerful Quotes That Inspire Travel

Falls Incline Railway

The Falls Incline Railway is a convenient way to connect the Fallsview Tourist area and Table Rock Welcome Centre. It also provides a unique view of the Horseshoe Falls (see above photos). It is open year-round and is stroller/wheelchair accessible.

Our boys sat at the front window and enjoyed the ride up. They didn’t really care about the waterfall views, they were more excited about being on “a train that goes up the side of the hill”.

The ride only takes a few minutes. You purchase tickets directly at the station. It’s $2.75 per person. Children aged 5 and under are free. You can also buy a day pass for $7.00.

Clifton Hill

Labeled as the ‘World famous Street of Fun by the Falls’, Clifton Hill has become a destination all on its own. The best way to experience Clifton Hill is to get the Clifton Hill Fun Pass.

The Fun Pass includes:

Niagara Skywheel

Zombie Attack

Wild West Coaster 6D Theatre Ride

Movieland Wax Museum

Dinosaur Golf or Wizard’s Golf

Ghost Blasters

Bonus: 5 Midway Game Tokens!

Clifton Hill is conveniently located within walking distance to Horseshoe Falls and several Niagara Falls hotels. We stayed at the Howard Johnson and it was a 5 minute walk to the Clifton Hill area. There are also several restaurants and coffee shops in this area, so it’s an ideal place to spend the afternoon/evening.

Visit this hotel booking website to check hotel pricing and availability.

Clifton Hill road is filled with games and attractions. Your kids will go wild.

Clifton Hill at night is quite the site. Neon everywhere.

Ripley’s Believe it or Not

Located on Clifton Hill, the Ripley’s Believe it of Not has three attractions in Niagara Falls, including the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Odditorium, the art motion simulator ride Ripley’s Moving Theater, and Louis Tussaud’s Waxworks showcasing over 100 life-like wax figures.

The Odditorium, pictured above, has 15 themed rooms and over 900 never-before-seen exhibits.

Learn about pricing and hours of operation here.

Niagara SkyWheel

The Niagara SkyWheel is located in the Clifton Hill area. Are you sensing a theme here?

The SkyWheel offers unique views of Horseshoe Falls and American Falls. At 175 feet (or 53 metres), it is said to be the largest observation wheel in Canada.

Below is the description from the Clifton Hill website:

“The Niagara SkyWheel is a world-class ride featuring fully enclosed gondolas, each equipped with heating and air conditioning for year-round comfort and enjoyment. You can ride day or night, in any season.

The ride duration varies from 8 to 12 minutes with spectacular aerial views for miles in every direction. Evening rides offer dazzling views of the glittering lights of Clifton Hill and the surrounding Niagara skyline.

With a bird’s eye view of the Niagara River, Niagara Parks and Clifton Hill, there’s no better way to snap incredible photos and quickly get the lay of the land.”

To get the best photos, consider the time of day you take the SkyWheel. We tried to catch sunset but the skies were overcast and our boys were running out of steam. We visited during the summer, so sunset was much later in the day (around 9:00 PM). Our boys didn’t make it. They started to get very cranky and tired, so we ended up taking the ride about an hour too early.

If you plan to take the SkyWheel you should consider purchasing the Clifton Hill Fun Pass. At the time of publishing this post, customers get a bonus 2nd ride on the SkyWheel when tickets are purchased online.

Views of the American Falls from the Niagara SkyWheel.

Related – 10 Family Travel Mistakes (and how to avoid them)

Zombie Attack

Because you bought the Clifton Hill Fun Pass – that’s why!

Our youngest was too scared to do this one, but our oldest boy loved it. He still talks about the time he “shot a bunch of zombies” at Niagara Falls. That wasn’t exactly the happy memory we were hoping for, but at least he had fun, right?

Wizard’s Glow-in-the-Dark Mini Golf

The Clifton Hill Fun Pass gives you the option to do either the Glow-in-the-Dark Miniature Golf or Dinosaur Adventure Golf. We originally planned to do the outdoor Dinosaur Adventure Golf but it was really busy at the time we showed up. Our boys don’t have much patience for mini golf, so we decided to do the Glow-in-the-Dark option instead.

It’s a fun 18-hole course with brightly coloured exhibits of Wizards, Trolls, and Dragons. It’s not a very challenging course so it’s ideal for little ones.

Games, Games, Games!

You won’t get far in Niagara Falls before you find an arcade or entertainment room. We visited the Great Canadian Midway twice during our visit to Clifton Hill. It’s a 70,000+ square foot facility with over 300 games, including the popular Wild West Coaster Motion Simulator and the spooky Ghost Blasters Dark Ride.

We like the vibe of the Midway. It has many of the old games we enjoyed playing when we were kids. Many of the games dispense tickets that can later be redeemed for small toys and souvenirs. If our boys had their way we would have stayed there for hours every day.

You can also visit one of the many casinos in Niagara Falls if you like to gamble. But note, kids are NOT allowed in the casinos.

Movieland Wax Museum

Niagara Falls has a few different wax museums, including the Movieland Wax Musuem. If you like wax museums, this is an easy addition to your Clifton Hill experience.

Below is the description from the Clifton Hill website:

“A walk through Movieland is a like a walk through entertainment history. Snap a selfie next to your favourite stars! You’ll see everything from classics like ‘Indiana Jones’ and the ‘Terminator’, to current hits like ‘The Hunger Games’ and ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.’

We didn’t end up visiting this wax museum because our youngest boy freaked out when he saw the Joker character in the window. He literally went running down the street screaming. It was quite comical – until he went running towards the street traffic.

Big Top Amazing Mirror and Laser Maze

Right across the street from the Great Canadian Midway and Movieland Wax Museum is the Big Top Mirror and Laser Maze. This is one of the newest attractions to the Clifton Hill area.

I think you get the point. There are endless games, entertainment and attractions at Clifton Hill.

Give yourself two days to explore Clifton Hill. Or one very looooong day.

MistRider Zipline to the Falls

If you’re looking for a heart pumping adventure you should definitely check out the MistRider Zipline to the Falls. The zipline starts at the Grand View Marketplace and travels down the gorge towards the base of the Canadian Horseshoe Falls.

The line is 2,200 feet long (670 metres) at speeds of 70 km per hour (40 miles p/h). This is a guided experience. Kids aged 13 and younger must go with a responsible adult. Minimum age is 7 years old.

Watch this video to see what the zipline experience is all about.

Beautiful parrots inside the Bird Kingdom.

Do you know the name of the blue birds pictured above? Leave us a comment if you do!

Bird Kingdom

Bird Kingdom is said to be the World’s Largest Free-Flying Indoor Aviary. It is home to hundreds of exotic birds and animals, including parrots, lorikeets, bats, owls, snakes, tortoises and lizards. Here is the list of species at Bird Kingdom.

Bird Kingdom is located on the north side of Rainbow Bridge, which is about a 10 minute walk from Grand View Marketplace (the place where you catch the Hornblower boat cruise and/or the MistRider Zipline).

We spent about an hour inside Bird Kingdom. It’s a good size facility; not too big, but enough variety to keep things interesting. The full tour takes you through a series of different rooms, each with different animals and birds. Our boys had fun feeding the lorikeets (an Australasian parrot) at Lorikeet Landing.

If you like this type of attraction, you may want to include a visit to the Butterfly Conservatory.

Great Wolf Lodge

We spent two of our four days in Niagara Falls inside the Great Wolf Lodge. If you’ve never been to a Great Wolf Lodge before, it’s a family-oriented hotel that has a massive indoor water park INSIDE the hotel. Your kids won’t want to leave the hotel, so plan accordingly.

We wrote a detailed post about 0ur experience at the Great Wolf Lodge in Niagara Falls.

Indoor water parks

You don’t have to stay at the Great Wolf Lodge to have an epic indoor waterpark experience. The Fallsview Indoor Waterpark is conveniently located in the heart of Niagara Falls and is connected to Falls Avenue Resort.

The Fallsview Indoor Waterpark has 16 water slides, several play areas and a large wave pool. The facility looks similar to what you would get at the Great Wolf Lodge.

Rates depend on the season. Off-peak general admission is approx $45 per guest. Children under 2 years old are free. This can add up quickly if you have a big family, so it’s best to book a package that includes your hotel accommodation.

Marineland Canada

Marineland is one of the top attractions in Niagara Falls. It’s a themed amusement park and zoo for both marine and land animals. It first opened its doors in 1961, so it’s been around for a long time.

The park is conveniently located a few kilometers south of the Fallsview Tourist Area in downtown Niagara Falls. It is open during the summer months, from May to October. Closed for the winter.

I visited Marineland once, when I was a young boy. When we visited Marineland this past summer it had been almost 30 years to the day. It was interesting to re-visit an amusement park 30 years later. Not a lot has changed at Marineland in those 30 years. The rides and decor definitely have a strong retro vibe.

Marineland puts on daily shows at the King Waldorf Stadium that feature dolphins, sea lions, walruses and beluga whales. It’s quite impressive how these marine animals interact with their trainers.

Feeding the smiling beluga whales at Arctic Cove was a highlight for our boys.

Braydon loved the family rides. He continually wanted to show us his “no hands”.

This was my favourite ride when I was a boy (Cam). Still fun.

Braydon’s first roller coaster! The kid rides at Marineland are just the right size for a 5 year old.

Niagara Brewing Company

It can’t be all about the kids – right?

After a full day of sightseeing and attractions, head to the Niagara Brewing Company for some tasty craft beer and food. It’s centrally located 200 metres from the falls, at the base of Clifton Hill.

Have you read our series about drinking beer around the world?

Rainforest Cafe

Have you visited the Rainforest Cafe? If not, you should. At least once. But only if you have kids. If you don’t have kids, it might get weird.

The food is good, but you don’t go to the Rainforest Cafe for the food. You go for the unique experience.

The restaurant is decorated to feel like you’re inside the rainforest. It has a bubbling volcano that comes alive with animatronic snakes, elephants, and gorillas. Every half hour the restaurant experiences an indoor thunderstorm – I don’t want to be a spoiler, so I’ll leave it at that.

The Niagara Falls Forest Cafe is located beside the Niagara Brewing Company – so you can do both!

Observation Deck on Skylon Tower

The Skylon Tower Observation Deck offers the best views of the falls in all of Niagara Falls. The elevator takes less than one minute (52 seconds, to be exact) to reach the observation deck, which sits 775 feet above the falls. From this vantage point you can see the Great Gorge, Niagara wine district and city skylines of Buffalo, New York and Toronto (weather depending).

If you’re looking for a one-of-a-kind dining experience you should consider the world-famous Revolving Dining Room Restaurant or the family-affordable Summit Suite Buffet Dining Room restaurant. Admission to the Ride-to-the-Top and Observation Decks attractions are free when dining.

Read next – 50 Photos from our Summer Adventures

Have you been to Niagara Falls? What did we miss?

Share your tips and recommendations in the comments below.

How to Spend 4 days in Niagara Falls with Kids is a post from: Traveling Canucks

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