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starlight-starwrites · 4 years

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home for the holidays

agent whiskey x female reader wc: 4.3k summary: jack daniels has been away on a mission, but promised he’d be back in time for christmas. sure enough as the holiday arrives, he returns and you welcome him back. warning: fluffy smut!! oral (f recieving), piv sex, creampie, some biting, jack talks in bed, you swear at him, dirty jokes note: Merry Christmas from your secret santa @whatanoof !!!! i did not mean to post so late but here we are. i hope you enjoy this one, i really liked writing it!

The menu in front of you offered a plethora of options, but you didn’t need to look at them. You already knew you’d order your usual dish. The drink options however…you scanned those intently. You had the time to anyway, since your date seemed to be late even though he insisted it would take no time at all for him to report to headquarters and then arrive at the restaurant. You’re not surprised he’s taking longer than usual.

The dining room is gorgeous, the ambient lighting and the tall ceilings setting a romantic feel. You were distracted by the twinkling crystal chandeliers at first, but as time passed, your hunger made you focus on the menu instead. Your eyes flit over the page, choosing to ignore the hard liquors to glance at the wines instead.

“Will it just be you tonight?” The voice pulls you from your reading, and you smile up at the young waitress.

“Oh no, I’m just waiting for—”

Before you could continue, you were distracted by a pair of soft lips pressed to your cheek. “Evening, darlin,” Jack slides into view, flashing you a winning smile as he takes a seat across from you. “I hope I’m not too late.”

You sigh in relief at his presence, eyes following his hands as he unbuttons his suit jacket and gets comfortable.

“Just waiting for him.” You smile at him before turning back to the waitress. “Could we get a bottle of your finest wine? Red, please,” you say to her, and she smiles and nods, leaving you two to have a moment.

“Finest red?” Jack leans forward in his seat, still smirking. “You sure know how to spend my money, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m not spending your money, Agent Whiskey.”

“What, you buying dinner tonight? My lucky day.”

You laugh. “No, no, dear. This dinner is courtesy of Statesman.”

“Is it now? I didn’t realize this was a work meeting.” He raises an eyebrow, and you notice his smile fall for a moment, as though he really believes you’d bring him here for anything related to the agency.

You giggle again and reach to hold his hand across the table. “As far as Statesman is concerned, I never said it wasn’t…”

The waitress returns, filling both your glasses and leaving the bottle at the table.

“Ain’t you a devious little thing. Alright,” he lifts his full glass, toasting to you. “To Statesman. For dinner with my best girl.”

You lean forward as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles, clinking your glass against his. “To you coming back to me in one piece,” you say earnestly. It’s a moment of honesty, and he catches it, smiling at you with teasing eyes.

“You really that worried about me, darlin?” He pulls your hand closer to him, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile on your face. “Stop that,” you scold him, pulling your hand back to intwine your fingers on the table. “I thought you were smarter than that, Agent.”

He laughs before taking a sip of the wine. He squeezes your hand. “I missed you.”

His eyes flick across your face, and you take in his, admiring his warm, brown eyes, the neat mustache over his plush lips. He must have shaved before he came here you think. His hair is mostly hidden under his black Stetson, but you can see the sides from how he wears his hat. It looks damp, he must have showered too. You smile at the thought, rememorizing the curve of his nose and the crease in his brow.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

You smile at each other, relieved to just be in each other’s company, with no more worries for the rest of the season. The waitress comes back in a moment and you order while Jack quickly peruses the menu, too caught up with you to remember the reason for being at the restaurant in the first place. The two of you catch up over the meal, Jack telling you everything that went down—though you believe he may be sparing you some of the details. You let him know what has been happening at HQ while he’s been away, but the two of you eat quickly. There are other things you’d rather be doing.

The waitress returns just as you finish, making sure everything is all right. The food was delicious, and the wine bottle now sits empty at the side.

She picks up your empty plates. “Can I get any dessert for you two?”

As good as some of the options sound, you’re full already, and you give Jack a look.

“I think we’ll be having dessert at home,” he winks at you, and your heart beats faster.

It only takes moments to pay on Statesman’s dime, and then Jack takes his hand in yours to practically drag you away.

He holds your hand as he pulls you out of the restaurant and into the cab, keeps your fingers interlaced as you enter your apartment building and run up the stairs, clasps you tightly as you step into your home, bringing you close and tightening his grip on your hand.

The two of you easily settle in, shedding your coat and shoes before he pulls you back into him. He tells you how good you look, hands roaming over your body as you walk him further backward into the apartment, tells you how much he thought of you as you loosen his tie to unbutton the collar of his shirt.

He ducks his head to kiss you without bumping you with the brim of his hat. His lips were warm and soft against yours and you hum. It’s a sweet, chaste kiss that he repeats before pulling away to look at you.

“Missed you, darlin.” He unbuttons his jacket, shrugging it off and tosses it on the back of the couch without ever looking away from you. His large hands came to cup either side of your face as he leaned in to kiss you again. “Been waiting for this.”

His next kiss leaves you breathless, his mouth moving against yours and taking command. You take the hat from his head, tossing it like a frisbee to the side, not caring where it lands. He leans in as he parts your lips, making you take a small step backward. He follows you closely, walking you across the living area and toward the hall to your shared bedroom.

His hands drift from your face, one moving to cradle the back of your neck as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. You could still taste the fine wine on his tongue, feel the heat of his breath as he breathed you in. Your stomach fluttered as his other hand drifted down to feel you, sweeping over your shoulder and down your back before he took a handful of your ass. Tensing in his tight grasp, and you laughed into his mouth and reached up to muss his hair. You felt the curve of his lips and the tickle of his mustache on your skin as he smiled back, a deep rumbling chuckle warming you from the inside out.

“Jack.” You whispered it against his smile, relishing in every brush of your lips against his as you spoke. “Take me to bed.”

He grinned at that, and you reached up to fondly trace over the dimple in his cheek.

“Yes ma’am.” His hands came to grip around your waist, spinning you around as you stumbled to the door, the two of you laughing like idiots. Your arms came around his neck, holding your body tightly to his as the two of you passed down the hall, threw open the door, knocking into nearly every piece of furniture as you kissed.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Jack’s arms tightened around you before he nearly tossed you onto the king-sized bed. You bounced onto the plush mattress, laughing at his eagerness, and just barely propped yourself up on your elbows before he was crawling on top of you and pushing you back down.

The soft bed beneath you was much more comfortable when Jack was here, and his passionate kisses erased the memories of lying in his bed alone, praying he would come back safe. Your hands greedily took hold of him, reaching for any and every part of him—you threaded your fingers through his hair, pushed down on his shoulders to press his chest to yours, splayed a hand on his abdomen and slid it up to his collar. Even though his tie dangled between you and got in the way, you took advantage, grasping the red silk—an early gift from you—and using it to pull him back into a kiss when he tried to mouth at your neck.

“Jack, honey, as good as you look in the suit, you are wearing way too much right now.”

His nose bumps yours, and he takes your bottom lip between his teeth. You feel his hands run down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your sides to grasp at your hips, tugging up the skirt of your dress.

“I ain’t the only one, sweetheart.” His lips go to your ear, the words sending shivers down your spine. “I believe I was promised dessert.”

His fingers trail over the skin of your leg, slipping under your skirt and massaging the inside of your thigh, reaching higher and higher until he touches the velvet that covers you. His eyebrows raise and mouth opens as he feels it, quickly looking up at you in surprise.

You smirk at him and lie back, placing a finger over his lips before he can ask. “Why don’t you get me out of this dress then, hmm?”

You know it’s what he’s been thinking about all through dinner, likely long before dinner if you were being honest. He smiles under the press of your finger, excitedly reaching for the zipper in back, pulling at fabric and making you move under him so he can pull it off you, the two of you laughing as you shimmy out of the tight burgundy dress, stealing kisses as though this was still new.

He takes his time getting you comfortable as he presses kisses along your face and neck, eagerly tasting any skin that is revealed. He marvels for a moment when the dress is finally tossed in the corner, looking at you splayed beneath him, wearing one of the sexiest matching sets he has ever seen.

Black lace trim and straps stretch over the slope of your breast and the curve of your hips, but it’s the deep red velvet matching your dress that covers you just enough to make him lose his mind that does him in. He groans and leans back to admire you, certain that this is the best Christmas present he could receive. Arguably, it may be even better than the lingerie he got for you, still waiting and neatly wrapped under the tree.

Now with you uncovered, he finds himself much too overdressed for the situation. His tie comes off first, flung somewhere along with your dress, and he only gets a few of the top buttons undone before his impatience gets the better of him. He rolls up his sleeves before diving in, mouth going to attack the inside of your thighs. The sounds you make turn something in his gut, heading lower as he tastes you. His pants are starting to feel much too tight, but he’s much too distracted by the feel of you under his hands, your legs around him to do something about it. His mouth makes a path up your thigh, he takes his time to kiss over your stomach, loving every inch of your body he had missed so much.

His large hands come up to feel the velvet over your breasts, squeezing you gently and rubbing his thumbs over your nipples through the fabric. You moan, trying to shift your hips to find any friction, but it seems Jack was purposely keeping you spread open, without the contacted you so needed.

“Jack I swear to God if you don’t stop teasing…” he hummed as he kissed along your skin, stopping to plant a kiss right over your heart before his face tilted up and he captured your lips with his. You nipped at him, tightening your legs around him to pull him closer, but he had other plans.

A hand slipped in between your bodies, pressing right between your hips so you were pressed back to the mattress. He gave you one last peck before grinning over you, his mussed hair dangling on his forehead as he gazed down at you, and you slipped a hand under his shirt feeling his bared chest, the other wrapping around his arm.

“I missed you,” you tell him again. It’s the truth, and it feels good to say it even if you have ulterior motives for saying it now. “Missed having you in our bed. Missed your body, missed your mouth—”

He surges forward then, kissing you fiercely and slipping his tongue in your mouth before ducking his head to bite at your throat and quickly moving back down your body. You know he’s straining, surprised he’s lasted this long already. His hand moves lower to cup between your legs, stroking the soft velvet over your core. He’s focused now, no longer gentle and playful touches, reacquainting himself with the feel of your body. No. Now he’s intent on getting to you, getting you off.

You gasp when his fingers skip under the material, swiping at your slick folds, briefly teasing your clit before returning to your entrance. You shift under his care, impatient for more but appreciating the feel of his weight on you, the strength in his hands, his shoulders. You reach to touch his hair, running your fingers through the soft locks as he kisses your hips, a finger sliding in to stroke you and you sigh.

He starts of slow, building you up, but soon enough you’re grinding your hips in time with his strokes, pulling at his head from where he’s focused on making marks along the inside of your leg to where you need him most. You had intended on removing the lingerie, making it easier for the two of you to continue, but Jack apparently doesn’t feel the same. Though he does stop sucking a bruise at the apex of your thigh, he only slides the thin strip of fabric to the side and dives in.

You whine at the sensation of his mouth on you, his finger joined by a second as he swirls his tongue around your clit. Your body jerks for a moment, overwhelmed by his touches. You moan again, leaning your head back into the pillow as you clutch his head tightly, arching toward his mouth and fingers. He finds a spot deep inside you, stroking you gently with gaining speed, and he continues to suck and lick at your bundle of nerves, making your body shudder under him.

You had nearly forgotten just how good his mouth was when he wasn’t running it. He’s learned your body well, and you remember just how fast he can have you shaking and screaming around him. You moan his name, warning him of the rising pressure inside you. His fingers continue in their rhythmic motion, and you can hear just how wet you are. His tongue dips to lap at your folds before returning to your clit, drinking from you like a man starved. You can see him moving too when you glance down, knowing that he must be grinding his own hips into the mattress. He groans into your core, making you shudder again.

“Jack,” you cry his name, “Jack, fuck please.” You’re getting closer, legs clamping around his head. He doesn’t mind it, you know for a fact he enjoys it, and his faze nuzzles further into your heat when you do. He pumps his fingers faster, and even you can feel how fucking soaking you are. “Fuck, Jack, I’m—”

It comes quickly, his lips around you and sucking while his tongue still teases your clit. Your legs become a vise around his head as you press your hips to his mouth, your own opening in a silent scream. His hand is tight on your hip, the only thing keeping you grounded, as his fingers and mouth don’t cease in their movements, keeping you at your high.

You choke out a gasp as you hold his head to you still, unable and afraid to pull him away. He’s so good, so fucking good with that goddamn mouth swirling around and his large fucking fingers pumping into you just right and oh fuck, he’s isn’t stopping and you’re shaking, your legs are shaking, and you think you’ve stopped breathing, but you’re so fucking wet you can feel it on your legs, but shit—can he even breathe with his face buried in you like that?

Just like that it becomes too much. Your legs drop from around him and your hands that once held him tightly to you now shove him away. His face comes up so you can see him, and he immediately gasps for air, panting as he pulls his fingers from you, and you flinch at the loss of him inside you. His hands immediately go to his belt, and he manages to unbuckle it and open the front of his pants to lessen the restraint on the cock tenting his pants.

You still shake even without his touch, panting just as he is as you go through aftershocks. You realize your face is wet, a tear running along the side of your face. You can only stare up at him, mouth agape as you watch him, kneeling between your spread legs. His face is soaked, hair tousled so it lies over his forehead, his usually neat part nowhere to be seen. Your slick coats his mustache and chin, and you can see a sheen of sweat over the top of his chest. His eyes are glazed with lust, but he still smirks down at you looking almost as wrecked as you feel.

“What’s the matter darlin? I finally manage to silence your smart mouth?” It makes you angry that you can’t respond, mind too dazed to come up with a response.

Without his body near you, you shiver from the cold air you feel, legs still trembling. You can’t do anything but eye the bulge still under his boxers, knowing that despite how hard he just made you cum, you still want more.

“Jack Daniels, you shut the hell up, and you get over here and fuck me right,” you snap.

His eyes widen in shock for a moment, but then he’s grinning like he’s won the world, dropping his pants enough to free his hard and heavy cock, and he pounces. He never bothered to take off his shirt, or his pants, or likely even his shoes you realize. You don’t care at the moment, too needy to think of anything else as his lips meet yours and you feel his length at your hip. You can taste yourself on him as you kiss him, but you don’t mind it.

He’s hot and solid against you, and your hands slip under his open shirt to claw at his back as he takes himself into his hand and pushes into you. You both moan together, his lips on your cheek. He’s large, stretching you more than his fingers and it feels right. This is how you were meant to be, filled like this, overwhelmed by the stretch and the feel of him inside you. His hand comes behind you knee, lifting your leg to rest at his side as he pulls out and pushes back in. At this angle, you can feel every ridge, the velvet of his skin, and your legs start shaking again. He gazes down at you with wonder, watching as your breasts move with his thrusts, the way your eyes glaze over as you stare up at him, jaw slack and making little sounds for him that make his cock twitch as he fucks you.

“Fuck baby, you look so good like this.” He looks down to where you two meet, watches as he disappears inside of you again and again and again. He can feel the pull in his gut, straining to hold out. “You should see how good you take me, how good you make me feel, oh fuck—” He nearly loses himself right then, feeling you clench tighter around him. “Damn, you can’t just do that to me,” he groans, picking up his pace, unable to control himself.

It’s rough, and you feel like he’s pushing you deeper into the mattress, the feel of his cock reaching deep inside you. The moan that comes from your throat is uncontrolled, and the sounds of you moving together overwhelm you. You don’t know if you can cum again but fuck, he feels so good like this, your entire body warm and tingling, calling for his touch. He leans forward, hovering over you and you try to pull him even closer.

“You’re so wet, baby, so wet for me. Look at this,” he takes a hand between the two of you, pace stuttering for a moment before picking back up again. He brings his slick covered fingers to your face, and you don’t hesitate to take them in your mouth. He tenses, rolling his hips into yours. “I’m not gonna last, sweetheart, uhng—” You bring your legs around him, pulling him in as you grind back into him. “Missed you too much, baby, I can’t—” He stops, his face pulling tight into a grimace as he struggles to hold on.

You give one last suck to his fingers before you pull them away. “Then come baby,” you say, voice hoarse, “fill me up, Jack. Need to feel you again. Feel your cum inside me.” Your voice is nothing more than a whine, begging really. It has been a while and he’s always had this power to make you so weak for him. As he moves, you feel the warmth spread throughout your body, and you hold him close, arching your back, legs at his thighs to push him into you again.

His mouth drops open, and after a particularly hard thrust, he’s coming. You feel the way his muscles tense, feel the warm spurt inside you and the two of you moan together. He drops to his forearms above you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he comes down from his high, rocking gently into you, and the tension leaves his body. He rests his forehead on your collarbone, and you turn your head to press kisses into his hair. You feel spent and exhausted, and you know his day has been longer than yours.

“Goddamn darlin, you know how to wreck me,” he says into your neck. His breath on your skin tickles, and you smile up at the ceiling. Before you can respond, his finger reaches down to where you are joined, and you clench.

“Ohh,” you catch yourself for a moment, leaning up to press your teeth to his shoulder. “You watch yourself, Daniels, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He laughs, rolling off of you finally, both of you tensing as you part. You hear the familiar tell of his shoes hitting the floor, and he slides off his pants fully to toss them off the bed.

“I most definitely plan on finishing.” He looks to the side as he lays on his back, meeting your eyes and grinning at you. “So why don’t you take off that pretty little lace for me and get on back up here, cowgirl.”

You look at him in shock for a moment, expecting him to pass out for the night, not pat his lap for round two. “You sure about that, old man?” you ask him, knowing you’re wandering into dangerous territory.

His arm snatches out, pulling you on top of his chest, and you push the rest of his dress shirt off his shoulders and dump it on the floor. “You won’t be calling me old in a minute,” he teases back, and sure enough, you feel him begin to harden behind you.

You quickly remove your bra, dangling it over him before that too is tossed to the floor and you lean down to press your chest to his. He holds you tight to him, and you press messy kisses to each other’s faces, relieved to be back in this feeling of having your love in your arms.

The kisses slow, and you enjoy the feeling of his lips moving languidly against yours. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper to him, even as you grind back down on his cock.

“Mmm,” he hums under you then leans up to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “Merry Christmas, darlin.” You melt into the touch of his hands running along your bare back and down to your ass. “This is what I needed right here, just you. Right here,” he whispers to you, before pulling you down for another kiss.

You kiss him back with fervor, pouring in your love for him. The apartment had been decorated and gifts wrapped long ago, and even now, soft flurries fell from the sky, perfect for the season. But to you, all that mattered was being with him, and having him here, home for the holidays.

#pedros12daysofchristmas #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #agent whiskey fic #kingsman the golden circle

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers Part 3: Storkules in Duckburg! aka THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES TERRIBLE BUT WELL MEANING ROOMATE OUT OF MYTH

Hello all you happy people! And welcome and welcome back to Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my look at the season 2 arcs of Ducktales! This arc was paid for by WeirdKev27 and I truly enjoy his support. if you want to know how to commission your own reviews or to get a guarnateed review of me of your choice from me a month, stick around to the end. I realized that shoving all my plugs in up top may be driving people away and while I DO make them because I want to make a living off this, i’ts not fair to those of you who simply can’t afford to buy a lot of extra shit like myself to keep shoving it in your face.

Previously on the Louie Inc Arc, Louie, after believing he had no skills and it was a matter of when not if he ws going to die, found his talent: seeing all the angles and thus being Sharper than the Sharpies. With newfound confidence and a chip on his shoulder from Scrooge saying he could one day be a bigger success than Scrooge himself, founding Louie Inc as a result. But what is Louie Inc? Does he actually have a plan or a bunch of buzzwords. And what does STORKULES, MANLY GAY OUT OF MYTH have to do with any of this? Join me under the cut to find out.

We open with Louie giving Scrooge his sales pitch that is essentially...

Naturally Scrooge buys none of it. I mean he’s somewhere in his hundreds, he’s probably seen about 80 thousand pitches that amount to “I have no plan but give me money anyway”. There’s a reason there’s a Butch Hartman shaped crater on the lawn from where he threw his ass out.

Scrooge does mentor the lad, or at least attempt to pointing out he needs an actual product or service (Louie rejects the idea of a lemonade stand as too easy), or as he puts it “Find a problem and create a solution”.

While the basic PRINCIPAL isn’t bad, find something people want or need and provide it, phrasing it that way sounds like “find a problem people are having and exploit the shit out of that problem for fun and profit.” Granted that IS a guiding principal of business, it’s just not something an uncle should be teaching his kids. They should be teaching them about the anime and cartoons they grew up with as I do with my niece and nibling.

He does show him a valid example of this in action in the form of Donald. Turns out Donald has found a good way to make money while he looks for a job, can relate: since Duckburg is facing a housing shortage, likely because several square blocks probably get destroyed by Scrooge’s Adventures, Glomgold’s Schemes, Superhero Battles, whatever creation went horribly wrong for Gyro, etc at least once a week. So he’s taken it upon himself to offer up the spare room to whoever can rent it.. and to steal Scrooge’s chandelier which even when caught he still takes anyway. Scrooge.. you called the guy a god-damn moocher in the season premiere, despite the fact he lives there soley because YOU offered and because he’s you know, being responsible and staying by his boys so they have their father figure around. So yeah I feel he’s doing this partly out of spite as is the McDuck way. I mean if your going to call him a freeloader just for being a responsible parent, then he’s going to take it up a damn notch.

Scrooge proceeds to laugh off Louie wanting a million dollars and gives him a dime instead because of course he was. Seriously Louie there are two other billionaires in town who are FAR dumber and far more easily swindled. Just go get star up capital from them. Hell with Glomgold all you’d have to do is tell him it’d upset scrooge and he’d literally throw money at you. Or give you a shark full of money. He needs the shark back though. He’s family.

Meanwhile Donald prepares for his new tenant and finds.. THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES! Who to his mounting horror as he realizes it, IS the new tenant. And who throws him into the sun. Cue credits.

So after Donald somehow survives being thrown into the sun, Storkules explains why he’s here: Zeus responded to his son playing the lute a lot like any rational reasonable

No of course he responded to the “crime” of “playing his instrument a lot” with sending a swarm of harpies on the town then blaming Storkules for it and casting him out. What’s most shocking is not the action, this is honestly him staying the course of being a fucking disgrace, but that Zeus somehow ISN’T the biggest asshole i’ve dealt with this week. No that honor is reserved as always for this bitch:

Keep in mind she manages to be this obnoxious in only TWO scenes. Also keep in mind I had to put up with Julie for a MUCH larger chunk of the previous two volumes I covered before volume 5 yesterday for my Scott Pilgrim Retrospective and she is ALWAYS like this and you now feel my pain.

This does create a problem though: Zeus casts Storkules out until he’s a responsible adult.. and thus paints Storkules as the bad guy... in a situation where the only other person in the story sent a swarm of HARPIES down at him for simply playing his music too loud. It just dosen’t work as a catalyst: Storkules objectively did nothing wrong. The only person he annoyed was a person who clearly dosen’t love, respect or like his son in any way shape or form anyway and essentially assaulted him and a bunch of innocent people via harpie and then cast him out. Zeus is an abusive asshole and i’ts weird the narrative sides with HIM and not our well meaning doofus. Zeus being an asshole with harpies is not a bad catalyst for the episode, and the harpies being unleashed is used well.. it’s just not a good catalyst for THIS story to try and portray an abuser as in the right. And make no mistake Zeus is a domestic abuser: he had his son mind controlled to try and MURDER innocent people, something Storkules begged him not to do, sent a swarm of creatures after him for the crime of playing his music too loud and in his next episode manipulatives Storkules sad emotional state for personal gain. Why would you try and paint THIS jackass as in the right?

Speaking of painting this jackass in the right sadly.. this episode does not do my boy donald justice. In most episodes he’s pretty nuanced and i’ts fair enough he’d be frustrated by Storkules as a roomate. Storkules has little sense of personal space, breaks his stove thinking theirs hydra in it, makes a mess of the kitchen making them a meal, and in general clearly dosen’t know how to live with a roomate much less in modern society. He has valid concerns and the episode COULD have used it that way.. but he’s also horribly impatient with Storkules. He refuses to get the guy just hasn’t had to live in a modern society and dosen’t know HOW to function in it and instead of helping him just gets mad again and again and gets really pissed when it’s clear Storkules dosen’t have a job and didn’t consider paying rent. He’s not WRONG to want him to pay Rent, despite what ironically the musical Rent would try and have you believe, but he dosen’t have any patience with the guy. And stork isn’t nearly coming on as strong as he normally does. The worst he does is cook the guy lunch and bring his donald fan art with him. Which we don’t see but I am assuming is mostly naked. What i’m saying is for once that while still bombastic, Storkules isn’t trying to force a relationship/friendship on him and simply wants to learn t be an adult from his best friend.. and Donald isn’t bothering teaching him.

Asking for rent or for him not to destroy the stove is fine, but not explaining WHY he needs either of those things or why he needs boundaries, he makes a roomate list, isn’t helping the guy. And this would be fine... but the episode dosen’t call Donald out on it for no real reason. It feels like it’s setting up for a “you should learn to wokrk with someone instead of just screaming at them aseop” that never comes and like with Zeus takes his side because shutup. I’d also LIKE to say this is the only time the writers reduced one of the cast to a caracture of themselves.. but I can’t. Several episodes in season 3 forgot Louie’s character development and another episode in season 2, The Duck Knight Returns!, somehow reduced both Scrooge and Dewey to parodies of themselves with Scrooge SOMEHOW, despite Della as stubborn as she is being in his care and by his side for decades and Movies bein ga huge business, not having seen a movie since the 1920′s and not knowing how they work and Dewey being reduced to just hyperactive moron. It isn’t as common as other shows like say Regular Show, The Loud House or, for the exact reason I lost intrest, Rick and Morty, but I still expect better, especially since they went into this season KNOWING Donald would be gone for half of it and this would likely be one of his only spotlight episodes.

Back at the good part of the plot, Louie is having a company meeting aka already treating Huey and Webby like his employees. Webby of course is glad to sign on, if little help in actually coming up with a product while Huey just wants to nope out. And if your wondering why Dewey isn’t involved Louie outright says he’d make a bad employee and while Dewey rises from his bed to object.. he stops halfway to opening his mouth and concludes he has a point. Best gag of the episode. Louie being louie easily cons Huey into staying by making Webby his charts officer.

So the three have a corporate retreat at Funso’s... granted they don’t have a product but Louie figures this might help. Huey.. still wants out of this and suggest since they already spent what they had on ski ball “Company over?”. It’s clear that Huey just sees this as another one of Louie’s short sighted schemes... and while he’s not ENITRELY wrong, Louie has genuine ambition.. he just has no earthly idea what he’s doing and is shooting way too high.. but for understandable reasons. 1) He’s 11 at this point. 11 year olds aren’t great at business strategy or reinging it in. 2) he wants to live up to what Scrooge said to prove he can be successful and really be worth something like his mom was.

But sometimes fate throws you one and the harpies bust in. And while Louie wants to do nothing and hope they go away Huey and Webby spring into action.. as does Storkules, who had to leave but warns donald there’s Orzo in the slowcooker and to not open it “LEST THE PASTA FAIL TO ABSORB THE BROTH!” Which is just.... Chris’ best line dleivery the episode. He says it like he’s saying the title of an old Stan Lee and Jack Kirby comic, i’ts wonderful.

So our heroes defeat them and Louie steps in to charge for the service and quickly comes up with a company idea and name “Harp-B-Gone” (A Subsidary of Louie Inc). Louie hires Storkules on the spot. Storkules proudly tells Donald he has a job the next day and goes off to it. What follows is our heroes hilarously shooting a commerical with Storkules playing a baby to promote themselves so they can help who needs it. They just need to find out what they want.. and thanks to the JWG and the harpies stealing it find out they go after people’s most treasured posessions Cue Ghostbusters-Style Montage

And this isn’t just me saying thing. The Rewriting History Entry (Which as a series weirdly stops around mid-season 2 and I don’t get why frank hasn’t gone back and finished it since) states they specifically based this whole operation on ghostbusters and the entire sequence of our heroes cleanin up the town reminds me of it. The highlight of it is a glomgold cameo where he’s kidnapped.. and refuses to pay so Louie just lets him go. And were this an innocent person who couldn’t afford it, i’d call him a monster.. but it’s glomgold. he brought this on himself.. and also sues himself for it. Wonder if he won.

So with their stars rising, our heroes get booked on the hottest show in town: Dewey Dew-Night! I had honestly forgotten there was a Dewey Dew-Night segment in there, and delighted I get to talk about this recurring bit. It’s one of the shows funniest runners and just perfectly FITS Dewey: of course the most egotistical and energetic of the kids would not only want to be a late hnight host but make up his own show. I also love the slow evolution of it: it started as something everyone clearly knew about but he stlill tried to keep hidden, slowly escalated to him allowing the rest of his siblings (Webby very much included) and the giant man who stalks his uncle in, and by later this season he’s putting the show online in the web shorts and gladly shooting it into space, with Season 3 having him spend the first half of let’s get dangerous making a documentary that includes an episode of the show featuring Darkwing. It’s a small thing sure, but it’s the little things like this that make the show special.

The show does reveal a problem though as it turns out they’ve GOT all the harpies and while Storkules merely wanted to help, Louie points out they need more to keep a buisness going and naturally never bothered to ask Storkules just how many there were. They need SOME plan to get going. Webby submits a legitamte and great idea, training the harpies as she’s been trying to do in the background of the episode and aside from a hole in the floor they are starting to listen. But Huey is an ass about it and not only shoots it down saying let’s keep the dangerous creatures contained, even though A) he has no idea WHERE they’ve been kept so he can’t verify it’s safe, and since i’ts Donald’s Closet no no it’s not. and B)There’s no where he knows of to keep them. He isn’t aware of the other bin till next season. and C) it’s not ehtical to keep creatures locked up forever epsecially since while the harpies are dangerous they arent’ MALEVOLENT and are clearly acting on instinct. oh and for D) at least she has a plan to keep the company going instead of just wanting to end this and cash out.

Which Huey tries to.. but naturally Louie spent all their money on...

So their broke.. and Storkules has no rent money and feels like a failure despite having done NOTHING wrong. We do get a clever little nod to Disney’s hercules though “I”m not a hero, i’m a zero”. Webby rightfully glares at Louie who decides to fix it... by sneaking into Donald’s house that night to free the harpies.

Though to the shows credit it’s a VERY bad idea, and Storkules coming in mid attempt and congradulating Louie when he lies about checking the door gets the kid to come clean. And it’s a nice character moment: He could still go through with it.. but it’s clear he realizes just HOW low he was about to sink to save his own skin and that as much as Storkules WANTS a paycheck and deserves one, it’s not worth hurting people to get it. Louie tries to justify after this.. but can’t.

Unforutnately Donald took a lot of stupid pills this episode, yells about his no pets rule and frees them instead of you know, THINKING for five minutes.

So yeah NATURALLY Donald is an angry shit about it , refusing to actually TALK to Storkules about this or maybe admit this is partly HIS OWN FAULT. Yes their both at fault, Storkules shoudln’t of shoved a bunch of harpies in a closet. That’s a classic blunder. But Donald still opened it and isn’t called out on taking zero responsibility. Huey sees the fracas and just takes down their days without an accident placard, good stuff and he and webby arrive to help. Donald fights with Storkules and Storkules worries about loosing his friend.. lead to them going after the thing he values most aka donlad and hyjacking the house boat, though the kids manage to get aboard.

As Storkules saves Donald, Louie realizes the most precious thing he has is his merch and willingly gives it, and his buisness up to save everyone. It’s good character stuff and shows that despite his problems with greed, Louie IS a good kid and will do the right thing. It’s what seperates him from the Rouges Gallery the family faces: He has FLEXIBLE morals but he has morals when it comes down to it. So everyone tosses the stoff to help direct the hapries and make it home tying them up. Donald has a heart to heart with Storkules and agrees to help him find another place, but still considers him a friend and they hug. Awww. One intresting thing I DID find out from rewriting history is they originally fully intended to have Storkules STAY on the houseboat. He was going to be a permenant member of the household, at least as far as Season 2 was concenred and plans were made for several episodes down the road: the whole bit with him in “The Golden Spear” was simply because he lived there, he was going to be the one Della met in the houseboat, obliviously guilting her about what she’d missed, and he was going to set off the kids subplot in “Whatever Happened to Donald Duck?”

This ended up not happneing for logistical reasons: Frank, and I swear this was the term he used, felt they already had the perfect Himbo in Launchpad and it was just too much HImbo energy for the two to coexist without one taking the others screen time or neither getting a lot.

The next reason was having a god around simply broke the story: He cited the gilded man from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” as a specific example. There were just too many hoops to jump to have him not break any story he should be around for. Finally with Della being added to the cast soon there simply wasn’t room in the main cast. Della brought it up to 9, Storkules would make it 10, and as i’ve gone on about the show already had trouble ballancing it’s cast, something Frank admitted to. Adding him would both be too big a stiatus quo change and be one on top of the massive one of Della joining the cast. So he was dropped back to recurring and only showed up one more time. And while it was the right call I am dismayed he didn’t show up for the whatever happened to donald duck subplot and it does feel very weird he never adresses Donald being gone despite, at least for season 2, apparently living in Duckburg. Otherwise though as funny as this wouldv’e been.. yeah it was the right call.

Scrooge returns... having been absent all episode because otherwise it wouldn’t work and easily saw Louie loosing it all coming.. but gives him a can of lemonade for his troubles and comforts the boy. The heart of htis arc and what makes it work at it’s best.. is these two. Scrooge GENUINELY wants to help Louie see his potetial successor in buisness: oh sure adventure wise he’s throughly covered.. but Webby, Dewey and Della all are more focused on the addventure part and that’s where their passion and talent lies, Huey’s better at science and given his close frinedship with fenton and how much that part of things seems to truly inspire him, i’ts what he was born for, and Donald just wants a regualar life and can’t manage his own life much less a company.

Louie is the only one in his family whose the right fit to inhereit that part of his legacy and I feel that’s why he takes a special intrest in him and webby over the other two: While he loves all of them and will clearly again leave a piece of his fortune and empire to all of them, Webby is the most like him, as we later find out not coincidentally in the slightest, when it comes to adventuring and curosity and a love of exploration. But Louie is the most like him in other ways; He’s cynical, money driven and passionate. Scrooge simply wants him to be as good a person and buisnessperson as he can be and is trying to push him in the right direction. And does so here by pointing out that failure isn’t a huge problem..it happens, comes with the terriotiry and as we’ve seen with life and times, even with portions of it clearly not happening in this universe, he failed a LOT to get here. What matters is that he tries and tries to do it the right way.

Scrooge also sympathizes as he was buying a lemonade company in cape suzette, giving Louie the can as a present... but laments there’s no cheap effective way to deliver the lemons. Louie notices the harpies going after the can after he throws it and Webby controlling them with it and muses that theyd idn’t think about what THEY wanted.. nad rightfully gets punched across the lawn by Webby, whose had to spend an entire episode having her surrogate brothers talk down to her and ignore her valid ideas. She dosen’t even open her eyes she just bops him one.

So we end with Scrooge having enlisted the hapries, Louie trying to take credit again and both realizing they might just steal the lemons instead of work for them. Ha ha ha their going to get so sued.

Final Thoughts: This one was mediocre. It has some good points, Louies arc continues to fascenate me, Huey’s done with this shit attitude is hilarous, and Storkules is at his best in this episode: his crush on Donald is toned down from this..

To this

To the point I could see shipping them off this one if Storkules episode didn’t have him do eveyrthing short of .. well see above. So it’s not WITHOUT merit: I love me a ghost busters style plot, there are great jokes and Chris Dimatopolis is a gem as always. Glad he’s getting work after this show on Invincible and hope he gets to play Darkwing again some day. But the Donald stuff and the fairly predictable plot drag this one down. I’ts fairly obvious they’ll run out of harpies, Louie will have spent the money and they’ll somehow get free. It’s not a terrible episode but it’s it’s sandwiched story wise between two straight up classics on both sides: the previous two episodes were even better than I remembered and the next two are incredibly good: Whateve Happened to Della Duck?! is one of their finest hours and The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck, while not making my best of list for the series as a whole is still one of my favorites for the season. It’s just disapointing this one wasn’t nearly as good as I remmebered and it’s understandable why I forgot almost all of it, unlike the previous two episodes. Thankfully as I said better’s over the horizon.

NEXT TIME ON OF MOONS, MILLIONARES AND MOTHERS: I’m taking a break for a week. One of two weeklong breaks for the arc, the other being the first week of July where i’m on vacation anyway (Though i’ll be doing the episode I would’ve done for that week the week before to keep the pace up, so no worries),

As for why, it’s my utmost honor to announce GOOF WEEK! Goof Week is a weeklong celebration of Goofy’s birthday. The idea came about because as I do for the big three, I intended to just do a shorts special. But Kev , the guy who made this very review possible, suggested doing the two part Goof Troop pilot. And since kev pays for a house of mouth episode a month anyway and thaks to you lovely people I hit my patreon stretch goal to review the goofy movie, I figured “why not make a week out of it. Hence Goof week. So next week we’ll have a review of the two part pilot for Goof Troop, the special Sports Goof, the House of Mouse episode Super Goof, your regularly schedule shorts spectacular, with The Goofy Movie for the grand finale! yaaahoooooieeee!

When we come back i’ll be shuffling episodes around slightly so I can do the Della comics from the Ducktales Tie-In Comic before her debut and in time for Donald’s own theme week in June, i’ll be saving “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?” for the week after Donald Week. Instead next we get a fun wild west adventure as Scrooge tells a story of his outlaw days, his tension with goldie and his encounter with a certain robber baron as John D Rockerduck FINALLY makes his screen debut. Yee-Haw!

If you liked this review, subscribe and follow for more and consider joining my patroen, patreon.com/popculturebuffet. I have exclusive reviews, my most recent duck based one being an obscure carl barks story about wigs and the boys attempting to murder a guy with a blow gun, and your contribution helps me reach my goals and thus gets everyone, patreon or not, a bunch of neat new reviews. If you get me to 20 dollars a month, i’m currently at 15, EVERYONE will get a monthly darkwing duck reviews, reviews of the two remaning ducktales 87 mini series including the origin of GIZMOOOODDUUUUUCCCKKKK, and a review of the Danny Phantom movie The Ultimate Enemy. And with the month running out NOW’S the time to join. YOu’ll also get to pick one of the shorts for my Donald Duck birthday specail next month, so if you want to join in NOWS the time. But wether you can or you can’t, thank you for reading, i’ts been a pleasure.

#ducktales #louie duck #storkules in duckburg #dorkules #donald duck #storkules #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #huey duck #flintheart glomgold #dewey duck #funzos #disney #disney+#disney plus #disney xd #harpies

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

E3: The One with the Wedding//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU.

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Ron x Lavender, Romione

Warnings: Language, mentions of food, drinking (legal), mentions of sex, nudity

Summary: As Hermione hustles to interrupt Ron and Lavender’s wedding in New York City, Fred and Y/N have a heart to heart which quickly turns into something much more.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This may or may not be 9 days late (my b) but it’s the 5th and final fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley !! The FRIENDS series will continue!

Message me to join the FRIENDS taglist or my general taglist

-Episode 1- -Episode 2-

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

May 2004

Previously on FRIENDS

“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen.

“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was.

“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”

Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”

The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”

Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”

“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend.

Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”

Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”

The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley.

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“Would you look at this place,” George sighed in awe, staring around at the beautifully decorated dinner hall. There were chandeliers hanging everywhere and everyone was dressed in clothes that looked like they cost more than everything the Weasleys owned combined. Fred and George twisted uncomfortably in their mediocre suits. Sure, they were successful businessmen with some money to spare, but they could never compete with this.

“Holy shit,” you said, coming up behind the twins. They turned around, startled to see you suddenly appear. Fred took a second to look you up and down, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise.

“Holy shit is right, Y/N,” he said. “You look bloody amazing!” You glanced down at your outfit, a slim fitting long dress that hugged your form perfectly. You smiled and did a little twirl for the boys who whooped and whistled at you.

“While I appreciate the compliment,” you said, “I was talking about the hall. How rich is Lavender’s family anyway?”

Fred shrugged. “Apparently loaded. I mean, it’s not like our family could ever compete with this. How Ron was able to pull someone this high up is a mystery to me.”

He and George picked at their clothes self consciously, trying to straighten their ties and smooth out their suits.

“Oh come now,” you said, “you two are perfectly successful. Who cares if the Browns could afford to buy all of London if they wanted to? Let’s just enjoy the night and eat all of the expensive food they bought!”

“Y/N, you’re my dream girl,” Fred said, putting his arm around your waist. “If you ever want to marry a Weasley, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“I appreciate the offer, Weasley, but I do think George and I would be a couple to be reckoned with.”

“Ha! Suck it Fred, I get Y/N and you’re stuck alone,” George said, kissing your cheek and stealing you away from his brother.

Fred was about to reply when a loud voice echoed through the room and everyone turned to see a short red haired woman come hurtling through the door.

“Mum!” cried Ron from across the room. He grabbed Lavender’s hand and they made their way over where you and the twins were standing, now accompanied by the latest arrivals, Molly and Arthur Weasley.

“Sweetheart!” Molly squealed, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh sorry we’re late, Muggle transportation is such a hassle, especially in this country. Your father spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to call a taxi and he wouldn’t stop asking the driver everything you could ask!”

“I still never got an answer to my rubber duck question,” Arthur grumbled before a warm smile appeared on his face. “Hello, Lavender, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You as well!” she said before hugging Arthur and then Molly. “Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, here come my parents.”

Sure enough, two very wealthy looking people were walking over to join their daughter and future son in law.

“Hello, hello,” said Lavender’s father, shaking the hands of the Weasleys. “How do you do? Very nice to meet all of you.” He glanced over at his wife. “Darling, it’s the Weasleys.”

“Sorry, what?,” she said, finally looking up at the family, a hint of distaste in her gaze. “Oh, lovely to meet you.” Her snobby look never faltered, making the rest of the Weasley clan even more uncomfortable.

Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s great to meet you both. I’m sorry we couldn’t help pay for much of the wedding, but we hope that we can at least cover the cost of dinner tonight.”

“Yes of course,” said Molly. “We know how expensive weddings can be, besides this may be the last time I watch one of my sons get married.”

Fred and George rolled their eyes at their mother, who wouldn’t stop pestering them to settle down since Bill, Percy, and now Ron were all either married or close to it.

“We’ve heard the complaints, mum,” said Fred.

“But hey, at least we’re saving you money!” George said.

“And not giving me grandchildren,” she mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

You decided to jump in and defend your friends. “At least you’ve still got other kids who are starting their own families, Molly. And besides, do you really want to have these two bring little Fred’s and George’s into the world?”

Molly smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. “I suppose you’re right dear. They were, and still are, quite a handful.”

“Hey!” they both shouted, clearly offended.

You giggled and wandered off with Molly, telling her the latest stories of the many troubles the twins had gotten into.

------------------------------

Hermione, never one for athletics, was suddenly an Olympic sprinter, flying down the halls of the London airport. She reached the ticket counter, cutting off some very angry travelers, and threw her bags onto the scale.

After a few long seconds of leaning over and catching her breath, she finally muttered a “hi” to the ticket agent.

“Hello,” she replied cheerfully.

“Oh, umm, hello!” Hermione replied, mirroring the chipperness of the agent. “When is your next flight to New York City?”

“There’s one leaving in 30 minutes,” she replied.

“Oh, thank Godric,” she muttered, earning herself a few odd looks from passersby at her unique choice of language.

The woman behind the counter typed a few things into her computer. “The last minute fare on this ticket is twenty seven hundred dollars.”

Hermione reached around in her purse, fumbling with gold and silver coins. “How about galleons?” she asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nevermind,” Hermione sighed, sprinting off again to apparate to Diagon Alley and exchange her galleons for Muggle money. There was no way she was going to miss this flight.

------------------------------

“I’d like to make a toast!” Fred announced, standing up from his table with a wine glass in hand. “Ron and Lavender. Of course, my big toast will be tomorrow at the wedding, so this is kind of my little toast or Melba toast, if you will.”

He was only met with silence and you and George very visibly facepalmed.

“Okay…” he continued hesitantly. “I’ve known Ron for a long time. His whole life, actually. See I got the first two years of my life without my baby brother, but nope he’s always had me, and I know he’s so incredibly grateful for that.”

When once again there was no reaction, Fred decided it was time to up the performance.

“I remember when Ron was going out with his first girlfriend. And I thought things were going to work out for him. Until the day he over inflated her!” Fred winked at his little brother, whose face was redder than his hair. For the third time in the last minute Fred did not get anywhere close to the reaction he had expected. “Oh dear Godric…”

“How about I take over for you, Freddie.” George said, taking the microphone from his slightly older brother. “Everyone knows I am the more charming twin, isn’t that right?” He was met with some soft giggles and a whoop from one of the bridesmaids sitting a few tables away. Fred begrudgingly plopped down into his seat, leaning his head on your shoulder as he pouted for the rest of the dinner.

As everyone finished their speeches, you giving one about your friendship with Ron that even brought Molly to tears, you found yourself sprawled out on a fancy couch still consoling Fred.

“I was laughing,” you said while patting him on the knee.

“Out loud?” he asked, crossing his arms and shoving your hand away.

You looked down at your wine glass guiltily. “Well I didn’t want everyone to think I was stupid.” Fred groaned and buried his face in his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration that you knew went deeper than a few poor jokes. “Hey, how are you doing?”

He looked up at you questioningly, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to hide it from me, Freddie, I can tell when something’s bothering you, and I know it’s not just that your jokes sucked arse.”

“No, the audience sucked arse, I’m fucking hilarious.” You kicked him lightly, urging him to tell you. With a long sigh Fred sat up and turned to face you, his big brown eyes void of their usual cheerful gleam. “Mum’s driving me crazy! I mean, I get it, she wants me to get married and settle down and have kids, but she has 6 other children, two of them with kids of their own already! I don’t know, this whole wedding thing has just put a lot more pressure on me, that’s all.”

You tenderly rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax slightly at your touch. “Don’t listen to her, ok? Marriage isn’t for everyone. Same with kids. You’re independent and carefree, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to settle down if you don’t want to.”

He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to hear. “What?”

“I said…” he began slowly, “I said that it’s not that. It’s the complete opposite actually.”

Fred glanced across the room at his youngest brother holding hands with his fiancée and whispering something into her ear. “It’s just...he’s my younger brother. He’s Ron, for Merlin’s sake! How did Ron get a girl before me?”

“Aww, is Freddie jealous of his little brother?” you teased, knocking your shoulder into his. When he didn’t answer you tried to sober up, not used to seeing this side of Fred.

“I’m 26, Y/N,” he cried out. “And I know that’s not old or anything, but I just figured I’d have my life together by now. Maybe a long term girlfriend, or even--” he paused for a moment, continuing to watch Ron and Lavender. “--or maybe it would’ve been me walking down the aisle with someone I love.”

“Come here, love,” you cooed as you pulled Fred into your chest. “You know there’s no rush. Sure Ron’s getting married, but I think he found himself the only person in the world who’d ever date him and he had to tie her down quick.”

Fred shuddered into your chest with a small laugh, bringing his hands up to aimlessly play with your hair. “Yeah,” he said, “and we all know that the girls are lined up just waiting for me. I guess I’ve got time.”

“Exactly. And plenty of it.” Fred continued to play with your hair as you did the same with his, occasionally scratching at his scalp and listening to the quiet whimpers he would let out.

He shifted so he was looking up at you, mere inches away from your face. “Y’know, you’ve been acting strange lately too. What’s bugging you?”

“It’s nothing Freddie, I--”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head. “I poured my heart and soul out to you, the least you could do is do the same to me.”

Sighing, you checked around you to make sure no one would be able to overhear. “Promise you won’t tell Ron? I don’t want it to make anything weird in our relationship.”

Fred snapped his head between you and his younger brother, eyes growing wide as he jumped to the nearest possible answer. “You’re bloody in love with him, aren’t you?!”

“What?” you asked, laughing at the ridiculous accusation. “No! Oh, no no no, not at all! I’ve known him since we were 11, and trust me, watching young Ronnie throw up slugs will turn anyone off of him.”

Fred smiled down at you and breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t getting your heart broken by being at the wedding. “So what is it then? Promise I won’t tell, swear on George’s life.”

You rolled your eyes but snuggled up next to him, feeling much more comfortable with your best friend as close as possible. “Fine. You’re not the only one having to deal with parent problems. Like I said I’ve been friends with Ron since my family first found out I was a witch. My parents, being Muggles, immediately fell in love with your family, and Ron as well whenever he would come to visit over the summer. My mum has this whacked out idea that it should be me that’s marrying him tonight. She’s so disappointed, told me I’m passing up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But he’s just Ron! I could never see him like that. He’s like a brother to me.”

Fred sat silently throughout your whole rant, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. When it seemed you had finally finished, Fred had no idea what to say. He had never been the comforting sort and had always managed to make it worse. As he did this time as well.

“Do you see me like that too?”

You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, trying to understand how he decided on that as a response.

“As a brother, I mean.” He stuttered through his words. “Am I just another brother to you?”

“‘Course you are, Freddie. I love you like family.” He gazed at you lovingly, wondering what he had done to have a friend like you in his life.

“How about this then?” he asked. “How about, since your mom wants you to marry a Weasley, if by the time we’re both 40 and still single, why don’t we marry each other?”

He looked so sweet offering this to you, so kind and thoughtful. You knew that the deal would benefit him as well, but to you it felt like he was doing this only for you. And you knew he would do anything for you.

“I appreciate the offer, but I actually only promised George the same thing,” you said, making Fred’s jaw drop and a scowl appear on his face.

“George! My own bloody twin? How could you, Y/N? I revoke my proposal.”

“I’m practically in tears,” you said stoically. Deciding it was time to go out and mingle instead of throwing yourselves a pity party, you grabbed Fred’s hand and made your way over to find George, only to be stopped by a very obviously drunk man.

He put a hand on your shoulder which made both you and Fred tense up. “I just want to say,” he said through slurred speech, “that Ron is a wonderful young man.”

Fred eased his grip on your hand a little bit, sensing that this man wasn’t going to do anything to you. You gave him a thankful look before turning your attention back to the hammered American. “Well thanks, we like him.”

The man stepped closer to examine your face, his booze breath going straight up your nose. It took all you had not to throw up because of it.

“My God!” he exclaimed, “you two must’ve been teenagers when you had him!”

You and Fred both stared straight ahead, insecurities and doubts increasing tenfold at the misunderstanding. You gritted your teeth and held back from slapping the man, who luckily made his way to another table to insult someone else.

Fred turned you to face him and gripped your shoulders tight, leaning down so he was eye to eye with you. “The guy was hammered, okay? There’s no way that you look like Ron’s mum. Nor I his dad for that matter!”

“Then why would he say it?” you grumbled, pushing Fred away from you and going to get rid of your sadness by gorging on some food.

“Because he’s crazy!”

“Oh, my mother’s right. I’m never going to get married.”

“Ahh, you know what?” Fred touched the small of your back softly, turning you around to face him, his breath growing heavy in exasperation. “This is...who wouldn’t want you?”

------------------------------

The next morning, the biggest day of Ron’s life, he was racing down the hallways practically bouncing off the walls. He was getting married. After a failed relationship with Padma years before, Ron had finally been able to heal and pour his love onto someone else. Lavender Brown.

Sure, the relationship had moved fast. Really fast, actually. They had only been together for a few months before Ron popped the question, to which a very ecstatic Lavender happily agreed. He knew it was unorthodox. He knew it was impulsive. But he didn’t care. Because someone loved him.

He shot through the door of Fred and George’s hotel room, making Fred jolt awake with a start.

“I’m getting married today!” he screamed. “Whoo-hoo!”

Fred scrambled around in the bed sheets for a few seconds before scowling at his brother. “Morning, Ron.”

“I’m getting married. To-day!” he said, ignoring the annoyed looks Fred was shooting him.

Relaxing a little Fred smiled. “Yeah you are!”

Ron jumped around and sprinted out of the room, screaming as he ran down the hall to announce his feelings to all of the other hotel guests.

The bed in which Fred was sleeping shifted once again, but it wasn’t Fred’s doing. You shot up from under his covers, holding the blankets to cover your naked chest and panting heavily in worry. “Do you think he knew I was here?”

Fred slowly shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you. He shifted in the bed, his leg accidentally brushing yours. You yelped and he quickly moved away, apologizing profusely.

After a long awkward silence, Fred finally spoke. “Well, I’ve--I’ve never done that with you before.”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and sinking down further into the bed, trying to disappear.

“So, ahh, how are you?” he said slowly. “You okay?”

You nodded, clutching the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. “Yep, yep. You?”

“Yes, yes, uh huh. You?” The two of you finally made eye contact, faces equal shades of vermillion. “We did you. I did you. I--umm, sorry not the time.”

It got quiet once again. You let out a long breath, wondering how you were supposed to move on from sleeping with your best friend. You wanted to blame the alcohol from last night, but neither of you were drunk. You’d only had one glass of wine, just enough to make you a little more confident than normal. Apparently that was enough to do the trick.

“Well… I’d better get going,” you told him, starting to sit up before remembering you and Fred were both naked under the sheets.

“Oh, yea yea, absolutely,” he stammered, gesturing for you to leave.

“Could you not look, please?”

“I don’t want to look.” Fred covered his eyes, not even pretending to peak through them. It was uncomfortable enough as it is, he really didn’t want to be joking around at the moment.

You slowly slid off the bed, taking a moment to let what had happened last night fully sink in. Had you ruined your friendship with Fred? Was it going to be this weird from now on? You hustled to grab your clothes from yesterday, ready to complete the infamous walk of shame. Thankfully, your room was just down the hall so any chances of you being caught were slim. All you had to do was put on a happy face for the wedding, pretend to enjoy yourself, and forget any of this ever happened. Yeah, that would work. Right?

------------------------------

Lavender’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene around her. The wedding hall was absolutely gorgeous, decorated in elegant fairy lights and flowers hanging from baskets on the ceiling. It was like she was a princess in her own personal fairy tale.

She spun around in her wedding dress, not even caring about the weird looks some of her parents’ friends were giving her. She never cared for them, or the family status, anyway. She just wanted to live her life as her own person, taking each step with someone she loved holding her hand.

“Hey.” Lavender was interrupted by the voice of her lover, standing bashfully a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.

“Ron!” she chastised playfully. “You’re not supposed to see me in my wedding dress, it’s bad luck!”

“I think we’ve had all the bad luck we’re going to have.” Lavender grinned and jumped into Ron’s arms, giggling as he swung her around. He finally put her down kissing the top of her head as he did so. “I’ll see you in a few hours, when you’re finally mine forever.”

“It can’t come soon enough.” The brunette was then distracted by Parvati calling her name, so she bid Ron goodbye and skipped over to her maid of honor.

She didn’t notice the unexpected guest standing at the end of the aisle, listening to their entire conversation. Or maybe if she did, she chose to ignore it. After all, her and Ron’s bad luck was over. She was finally getting the one thing she wanted most in life. To be loved.

Ron stared longingly at the girl he loved so deeply talk to her best friend, before the same unexpected guest that Lavender hadn’t noticed caught his eye. “Oh Merlin, Hermione!”

He ran up to her and kissed her on the cheek, ecstatic that his friend had decided to come to New York for his wedding. “You’re here. I can’t believe it! What happened? Why are you here?”

Hermione took a quick glance over at where Lavender was standing. She had seen everything. Heard it all. She knew how much they both cared for each other, and who was she to stand in the way of their love? She had missed her chance with Ron, but Lavender hadn’t.

“Well I just came…” She touched his chest right near his heart, tears threatening to spill. “I just needed to tell you…”

She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Hermione took a deep breath and put on a fake smile. “Congratulations.”

Ron grabbed her tightly and hugged her with all of his strength, tears of joy pooling in his eyes. Tears continued to grow in Hermione's, but for completely different reasons. Today was the day everything changed. Today her chance was gone. Forever.

------------------------------

If the chapel was beautiful before, it was even more extravagant with all of the lights lit up and the band playing soft, romantic music. Any normal day you would’ve enjoyed the site, wishing that someday you could have a wedding just like this. But unfortunately the only thing on your mind was the events of the previous night.

“Ready?” George whispered to you, getting ready to walk one of the other bridesmaids down the aisle. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push you. You nodded your head, sending your friend a thumbs up before it was his turn to make his walk.

“Ready?” asked a nearly identical voice to the one before. Fred stood behind you, his hair styled for once and his clothes neatly pressed and cleaned. He did clean up well, you had to admit. But, not that you would ever say this to anyone, you quite liked it better when he wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“I’m ready.” He linked his arm in yours, guiding you slowly down the dimly lit aisle.

Fred couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. Your eyes were focused straight ahead, refusing to look at anything except the alter at the end of the walk. If you just made it to the end of the walk, everything would be ok. Everything would be over. But maybe Fred didn’t want everything to be over, just not yet. He sucked in a breath and decided to take a chance.

“What he did last night,” he whispered, slowing down as to elongate the conversation as much as possible.

“Stupid,” you muttered.

“Totally crazy stupid!” Fred got a few rude glances at his loud volume, so he checked himself before continuing. “I...I’m coming over tonight though, right?”

Your breath hitched in your chest. You were so close to the end of the aisle. You could ignore him and ignore whatever was going on between the two of you. It could all go back to normal, just a few more steps.

But your heart took over, and you said something that you knew future you might regret, but you didn’t care. It was worth the risk.

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

Fred squeezed your arm as you made your last steps to the front of the chapel, separating and taking your places in the rows of wedding participants.

You scanned the crowd, seeing Hermione fidgeting nervously in her seat. You felt awful for what she must be going through, but proud that she decided to accept it. Hermione was tough, that was for sure. She could handle anything.

“Friends. Family. We are gathered to celebrate here today the joyous union of Ron and Lavender. May the happiness we share with them today be with them always. Now Lavender, repeat after me. I, Lavender.”

“I, Lavender,” she said with a grin so big it looked like it would jump right off her face.

“Take thee Ron,” the minister continued.

“Take thee Ron.”

“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”

She giggled and squeezed Ron’s hands tighter, mere seconds away from being united with the one she loved oh so much.

“Now Ron,” said the minister, turning to the groom. “Repeat after me. I Ron…”

George winked at him and Fred gestured for him to speak. No matter how much they teased their little brother, they were so proud of him for finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. “I Ron…”

“Take thee, Lavender…”

“Take thee, Hermione…”

Gasps filled the room. You covered your mouth and looked out to the crowd at Hermione, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Fred and George started whispering frantically to each other and Molly seemed as if she was about to either faint or slap Ron into another country.

But nothing compared to Lavender’s reaction. She stood there, frozen, hands going numb in the grip of the person she thought loved her. The one who only thought of her. The one who chose her.

“Lavender!” Ron corrected, nervously chuckling in order to hide the growing humiliation. “Lavender.”

The minister looked between the bride and groom, having no idea where to go from there. “Uhh...shall I go on?”

Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of Ron. He had just said her name. Her name. Not Lavender’s. Hers.

What was supposed to happen next?

Tag List: @fandomhideout @amourtentiaa

#abby’s week of weasley #fredweasley #fred #friends #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #fredweasleyfluff #harrypotter #fred weasley x y/n #fred x y/n #weasleys wizard wheezes #fredweasleyseries #fredweasleyimagine

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Note

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right?

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant.

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it.

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda.

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.”

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him.

That would be heaven.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #anon chatter :)#x reader #oh to have a polite nagito ghost you can pull out chairs for and look up his tragic backstory

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bittywitches · 4 years

Note

I’m obsessed with the college roommates concept— maybe you’re feelings lonely and kinda sad abt ur love life one night and Grayson offers to take you on a date just for fun as friends but then ~feelings~ happen ☺️

Umm do you mean that one episode in season 8 of friends where Joey takes out pregnant Rachel and gets his crush on her??? Bc yes :))

It’s probably just been one of those weeks, you know? An assload of assignments, tests and exams every other day, most of which you’d completely bombed and were feeling shitty about. You hadn’t had more than 5 hours of sleep a day in like a month, you’d been living off of microwavables and instant noodles, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a sip of water since all your energy has been from coffee. And the kids in all your group projects this semester? Idiots. Selfish pricks. Every single one of them.

So it was needless to say that you were just in one of those moods. It was a Friday night, so things had slowed down enough, finally, but it also finally gave you some time to let yourself think, and god it was not great when you had to think.

It had started as just one of those basic thoughts; “What am doing? Where is this going?” which lead to “Why am I even in college in the first place?” Ending with “Oh my god I’m wasting my life and I’m gonna be alone forever”.

By the time Grayson had made it home that night, you were huddled up in the living room sofa under a blanket, your laptop open in your lap and snacks all over the table a couch while “Isn’t she lovely” by Stevie Wonder played on your phone as you tried your best not to burst into tears at the thought of never finding a boyfriend.

“Whoa, I don’t remember getting my invite to this slumber party.” He laughed, kicking his shoes off and throwing his bag onto the single sofa next to yours.

You slumped your shoulders. “It’s not a slumber party, it’s a pity party.”

“Oh?” He sat himself down on the sofa. “Who for?”

“Me, who else?” You wallowed, stuffing some more popcorn into your mouth.

“Why, did you get marks back?” He asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, a bit concerned at the volume of popcorn you were putting into your mouth with each bite.

“No, but what’s the point? I already know I’m doing bad.” You slumped backwards into the couch, just wishing you could be swallowed by the pillows and cushions.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on your knee, looking at you seriously now. He knew you. Your general melt downs he was used to, but this was different. He could tell something was wrong. “You okay?”

You sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter and pausing the song so you could think straight. “You don’t wanna hear about it.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

You sighed, slipping your legs out from under you and dangling them off the couch. “Okay, um..” Grayson’s hand had fallen away, and you suddenly felt like rubbing the spot on your leg where it had been. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been so busy lately, and it’s just gotten me thinking about my life in general. And how I haven’t gone out on a date in like…” You had to stop and think, and started laughing after a few seconds. “In so long I can’t even remember. Wow, god.” You sunk back into the couch. “I miss dating.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Yea?”

“Yeah, you know,” You waved your hands around vaguely. “The whole excitement of it. Getting to dress up and look all nice. Feeling all pretty.” He tilted his head at you, and you shook your head and laughed. “But you know, not that I need the reminder. I’m obviously hot as fuck.” You gestured to yourself, highlighting your nest of hair and your stained sweatshirt. You waited for him to laugh, but he just continued to look at you with that weirdly deep expression.

“What?”

“How about I take you on a date?”

You blinked at him, then started to chuckle, confused. “Huh?”

“You know, as friends. But I’ll give you like, the whole experience.”

You almost spit at that. “The ‘whole experience’?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. We’ll get all dressed up, go out to a nice place for dinner or something.”

You sat up now, your eyes narrowed at him. “Why?”

“Why not? It’s a friday. If you have stuff to do you can always do it later.”

“You know where that mindset gets me, Dolan.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He smiled. “Plus, you deserve a fun night.”

You scoffed. “Yea, but not with a boyfriend or anything. With my roommate.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Incredibly.”

“God just shut up and go change.”

You laughed. “I— You know what? What the heck.” You got up, and he did with you. “Ah, okay!” You gave him a quick squeeze before running to your room, and his eyes followed after you, a gentle smile on his lips.

…

He’d done the whole shebang. He got dressed in a nice dress shirt and clean black jeans, something you’d actually never seen him wear before. He’d somehow gotten you a bouquet of flowers, which, you weren’t even sure where or how he’d gotten them, because you couldn’t have taken more than twenty minutes to get ready. Nonetheless, he truly was the gentleman you had never expected. This was Grayson, the guy you watched old disney movies with and cried with during finals. He was the one you’d eat whole pints of ice cream with and play The Last of Us with and helped you master. He certainly wasn’t the one who was supposed to be complimenting you on your dress and taking you out to nice dinners. But here he was, doing just that.

He’d parked his car and was now escorting you inside this tiny but upscale italian restaurant, simple but elegant. As you entered through the glass door, the dazzling chandelier above the waiting area along with the gorgeous red sconces blew you away.

“Grayson how did you get a place like this on such short notice?” You whispered to him, gripping his arm, a bit intimidated by all the fancy folk waiting inside.

“I know some people.” He responded, a small smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm. “As if, you don’t even know the name of the Starbucks barista on campus.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you let me be cool?” You stared at him waiting for the response, and he sighed. “This place is fairly new. Not that many people know about it yet, so it’s pretty easy to get a reservation.”

“How’d you know about it then?”

“Found it when I was looking for a place to take Sarah to.”

“Oh my god that girl from your Kinesiology class?” You looked at him with wide eyes and a grin on your face. “No way! I didn’t think you’d grow the balls to ask her out.”

“Hey,” He said, but you laughed. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked her yet. I was just checking it out.”

“Well either way, she’s going to love this place, it’s so extravagant.” You made it to the front and Grayson informed the woman standing there of his reservation. She escorted you both inside and brought you to a table next to one of the windows. She’d dropped off two glasses of water and menus for you both to look at in the meantime. You peaked at the one in front of you, and your eyes grew again.

“Gray, did you happen to look at the prices before coming here?”

“Don’t worry, I’m buying.” He flipped through his casually, as if he wasn’t exasperated at the large numbers printed on the cards.

“Are you serious? What are you, made of money?”

“Hey, I promised you a fun night, right? I can make a few sacrifices.”

A young man came up to your table, and you both gave him your order. You ended up choosing the cheapest thing on the menu, because a) you didn’t want to be too much of a burden on Grayson, but also b) you barely knew what any of it was anyways. He left, you both chatted for a bit, and he returned with your meals, both of them being some sort of pasta that you were a bit embarrassed about not knowing the differences between.

Grayson didn’t really know that much either, to be quite honest, but for some reason he felt the need to impress you with this place. And he was pretty giddy about the fact that it was working.

But throughout this, you had kept staring at him, frankly a bit shocked at the whole situation you both were in. You had to shake your head to get your thoughts straight, but ended up giggling. “So, you always this sweet with the girls you take out on dates?”

He bit his cheek, but decided to play along, lowering his fork and leaning in towards you to hear you over the chatter in the restaurant. “Why, you interested?”

“No, just curious what it is that Grayson Dolan pulls to get a girl.” You crossed your arms on the table, on elbow propped up with your chin resting on your hand. “Tell me, you have any moves?”

He laughed. “What, that I just use with every girl?”

“Don’t act so modest. There’s gotta be something. What gets them drooling?” You asked a playful smile on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his food. “Okay fine, um.” He cleared his throat. “It usually starts out the same, I ask them about themself. Where they’re from, what they do— like, okay. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

You snorted. “Are we doing this? Are we playing this out?”

“Yesss, go with it.”

You laughed. “Okay, uh well. I like to paint sometimes.”

“Yea? What kind of stuff?”

“Well I used to do more traditional stuff, my parents were really into those pretty realism paintings. I’d do flowers and fruits and whatever, but every since, I guess junior year of high school, I’ve been doing more pop art pieces? And a lot more self-indulgent stuff. And I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling, but also realizing that Grayson had his soft eyes fixed on yours.

“What?”

His eyes widened a little, as if you’d shook him out of a daze, and he chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just, uh... “ He smiled. “Your eyes are really pretty.”

Your face flushed a little bit, and you looked away from him, taking a sip of water to use it as your excuse. “Ah, thank you.”

He shook his head. “Anyways, so do you still do pop art now? Or has it changed since you’ve started college?”

You blinked at him, then covered your mouth as you opened it in slight shock. “Wow, that was really good.”

He laughed. “Yea?”

“The eye thing was good on it’s own but to know you were actually listening to me? I’m impressed.” You nodded in approval.

He tilted his head, chuckling. “Thank you, thank you.” He took another bite of food before continuing. “So what about you? You have any moves?”

You snorted again. “Gray, I barely go out on enough dates in the first place, much less enough to establish any moves.”

“Why are you always so modest? You can tell me you know.”

You laughed. “Yeah duh I know, but I’m genuinely serious this time. I don’t get asked out all that often.” You shrugged. “It’s why I get excited when I do get to go on dates. It’s fun.”

Grayson was the one who couldn’t help but stare now. He blinked at you, unable to really comprehend what you were saying to him. How could people not want to ask you out? You were incredible. Looking at you now, your hair up in a dainty bun, a few curls falling down the sides of your face; your pretty off the shoulder dress that matched your deep magenta-maroon lipstick. And he wasn’t lying about your eyes, they really were so pretty. They sparkled, even more so when you were laughing. Which was usually accompanied by your scrunched up nose, making you look like a cute little bunny. He smiled at the thought, as he loved seeing that expression on your face.

“Huh.” he said out loud then, not realizing when it was he had starting noticing your small actions like that so much.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him, and suddenly, seeing those same eyes he always saw staring at him, he felt almost light headed. His face felt warm, seeing you look at him like that. He was almost afraid that you could see what he was thinking. But why would that be a problem unless…

Grayson slowly widened his eyes. Did he seriously have feelings for Y/N?

“Nothing, sorry.” He said with a smile, looking back down at his food. Sure, he’d always thought you were amazing. You were gorgeous, sure, and you made him laugh. And yea he loved hanging out with you, watching movies and playing video games, and he adored being your roommate, having late night conversations and spending all your free time together…

He wanted to mentally smack himself in the face. Shit, he had feelings for you.

This was going to be a long night.

#not me getting ~carried away~ as usual #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins #ask #anon

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (14)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @blueleatherbag and @dudethisvoid for being so helpful

Click the picture for better quality

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲'𝐬 a special day because of Tom and Y/N's wedding. Y/N's hotel room is quite messy with satin and silk everywhere. Pearls on the bed, ribbons on the floor, hairpins on the night stand, Y/N's special pair of heels for this occasion next to the bed, and Saoirse going in and out of her room. It's hectic even though it was only seven o'clock in the morning.

The theme of the wedding is quite unusual, yet no one questioned it. Y/N absolutely loves the aesthetic for 'The Phantom of the Opera' and she decided that she wanted that to be the theme. Tom made it all happen, of course. He even got the chandelier and it's being hung at the reception. Y/N and Tom went all out- their reception is at a castle somewhere.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄...

Y/N is now getting ready for her special day, but she could never forget the night before. She found out that Tom was unfaithful and Harrison reciprocated her feelings. It was all too much to handle. Other than that, Saoirse is sitting next to her, talking about something.

"Sursh, can you please be quiet for a while? I'm kind of-"

"Stressed? You'll be fine, Y/N!" Saoirse smiles. "I can't believe you're getting married to him! You're signing up for the rest of your life. Are you excited?"

'No.' Y/N thinks, but she wouldn't say that in front her best friend and the make up artist. Instead, she gives Saoirse a tight-lipped smile and nods, "I'm excited and nervous at the same time."

The make up artist starts applying primer on Y/N's face and continues to plaster an 'I'm completely fine, don't worry about me or my real feelings' face. She looks down on her lap, her eyes only moving, and looks at her fingers. She starts daydreaming about what would've happened if she confronted Tom last night and just left him for Harrison. She would've been with Harrison right now.

Alas, she could only dream about it.

About forty-five minutes later, Y/N's mum and Nikki arrive in her room. Saoirse opens the door and happily lets them in.

"There's my daughter-in-law!" Nikki grins. She stands in front of you next to the make up artist and she catches a glimpse of your make up. "Oh, darling! You look absolutely gorgeous! Tom's going to fall even harder for you. I can feel it."

"I can't believe my daughter's getting married!" Y/N's mother squeals lightly. "You'd make a wonderful wife, Y/N."

"I can tell you're nervous, sweetheart. A piece of advice? Marriage isn't easy. You'll have to figure stuff out as well and with Tom's job, I know it'll be difficult. But as his mother, I know that he'll be there for you every step of the way. I also know that he'll be a great father once you make the decision of having kids." Nikki smiles.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holland." Y/N smiles lightly. It's been years and she's still not used to calling her 'Nikki'.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me 'Nikki'. You'll be Mrs. Holland soon. Welcome to the family, darling."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌...

Tom Holland just got out of the shower when Brad knocked on his door. Brad smiles at his best mate when Tom opens the door. Brad walks in already wearing the tux and he closes the door.

"How ya feelin'? Excited?" Brad asks as he makes himself comfortable on Tom's bed. Tom goes back to the bathroom and gets ready there, leaving the door slightly open so Brad could hear him.

"I'm excited and I know she's excited too. After all, I'm going to be the CEO after this and I know she won't leave me for someone else." Tom smirks as he looks at himself on the mirror while getting dressed.

"How are you so sure about that, mate?" Brad asks as he scrolls through Twitter, chuckling every now and then at a funny tweet.

Tom leaves the bathroom and walks up to Brad with his arms crossed, "Mate, I'm rich and popular. I can buy her anything she wants. Plus, I'm good in bed. Just ask the one of the many girls I've slept with. I'm the whole fucking package! Y/N would be crazy to leave me."

Tom and Brad share a laugh, but immediately get interrupted with a knock on their door. Tom calms down and goes to open it, revealing Y/N's father.

"Mr. Y/L/N! What a surprise! Please, come in." Tom smiles and lets him in. Y/N's father walks in and Tom closes the door behind him. Brad sits up straight and smiles at Y/N's father.

Mr. Y/L/N turns to Tom and says, "I won't stay long here, but I just want to say something to you."

Tom nods for him to continue.

"I can tell that you mean so much to Y/N and I'm happy that she found you. You're a good match for her and I trust you. I know that you won't hurt her feelings and I know that you make her happy. You're making my little girl's dreams come true and I want to personally thank you for it." Mr. Y/L/N says with a small smile. "Now, get outta here and get married. It's time to go."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃...

"You're going to my mommy's wedding?" Harley asks as he puts on his shoes. "Are you even invited?"

"Y/N personally invited me, so yeah. She didn't invite you, though."

"Oh." Harley frowns.

"BUT- this means we could get on with our mission! I'll drop you off at Harrison's place." Amadis says and fixes his tie one last time. Harley looks at him and groans, "I don't even know what to do!"

"Just follow through with the mission, okay?" Amadis sighs. "I'll handle Y/N and you'll handle Haz. We'll meet up, okay?"

"Okay." Harley sighs. He really isn't in the mood for anything and Amadis doesn't know why. After all, they only have less than twenty-four hours to get things right before all of one hundred and sixty-eight hours have been consumed.

Amadis and Harley quickly leave the apartment and walk over to Harrison's place that he shared with Timmy, who's currently at work. Harrison opens the door and smiles when he sees Harley.

"Harley's not in the mood today, so if he acts up, just call me." Amadis says as he watches Harley sluggishly enter the blonde's apartment.

"Will do!" Harrison smiles.

"Bye Harley! I'll see you later." Amadis calls out in hopes of Harley saying anything to him. Harley doesn't spare him a glance, instead he focuses his attention on the tv. Harrison gives Amadis a sympathetic smile and says, "Have fun at the wedding."

"It's not fun without you there." Amadis says.

'Seriously, it's not. I want you to interrupt and I want to see everyone's reaction.' Amadis thinks to himself. He says goodbye to Harrison and leaves.

"I'm doing some errands today and I'm taking you with me." Harrison announces as soon as he closes the door.

"Where?" Harley asks.

"The grocery store and I'll buy a dishwasher. Ours is broken." Harrison says and grabs his small sling bag. "Let's go, Harley!"

"I'll pee first." Harley says and walks to the bathroom. Harrison takes out his phone and quickly sends a text to Y/N.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘...

Y/N smiles at the text, but immediately frowns when her father enters the dressing room of the church. He smiles at her and Y/N puts her phone in her purse and gives it to Saoirse, her maid of honor.

"It's time to get married!" Y/N's father cheers. She smiles at him and he pulls her in for a hug. Her father tears up a bit and sighs happily, "I can't believe you're signing up for the rest of your life at twenty-one years old."

They pull away and Y/N's tears are streaming freely down her cheeks. Her father wipes them away and smiles at her. "You're not a little girl anymore and I trust you, but just know that I'm always here for you, pumpkin. I love you."

"I love you too, dad." Y/N smiles. Her dad asks the make up artist to retouch her slightly ruined make up and she takes a sip of water before leaving the small dressing room of the church.

In truth, Y/N didn't know what she felt while she cried a few seconds ago. She knew she had a lot of different emotions and feelings, though. She felt upset that Tom cheated on her, she felt heartbroken that she couldn't be with Harrison, she felt angry that Tom was mad and jealous of Harley, and above all, she felt horrible for lying to herself and to everyone into thinking that everything is still going well for her and Tom.

Y/N can hear the music playing and in truth, she forgot that she planned the whole wedding. At this point, she didn't care of what the venue looked like. Her relationship was trash, anyway.

After the entourage, everyone turns to the big door where Y/N is coming in from. The doors open and she comes in with her father. Amadis turns around and quickly takes out his phone to take a few pictures of Y/N in her wedding gown. He decided not to send a picture to Harrison. It might hurt his feelings.

At the end of the altar, Tom smiles proudly and Brad excitedly pats Tom's shoulder.

"This is it, man." Brad whispers.

"Yup. I can't fucking wait. We're going to Santorini after this." Tom whispers, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

Y/N and her father reach the altar and Tom shakes her father's hand. "Take care of her." Mr. Y/L/N says. Tom only nods and smiles. Tom and Y/N stand in their respective places in front of the priest.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this man, and this woman in holy Matrimony. Not to be entered into lightly, holy matrimony should be entered into solemnly-"

Y/N couldn't register anything that's happening because her thoughts are elsewhere. They were on Harrison. She wondered what he was doing at this time of day. Before she knew it, she snaps out of her own thoughts just in time.

𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍...

"Phew! Nice save, Father." Jesus smiles as they watch Y/N focus on the ceremony.

"As always." God says. "If I didn't do that, she-"

"Don't spoil for the people reading this book, Father. They've been waiting for this moment." Jesus says.

"It's literally in the prologue. They can just go back and read it."

"I know, but where's the fun in that?"

"True."

"Only facts, Father. Only facts."

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐘...

Y/N snaps out of her thoughts because she felt as if something inside her told her to snap out of it. She didn't know it now, but later on in life as she looks back at this moment, she'll forever thank the voice inside her that told her to stop daydreaming.

"-If any person here can show cause why these people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The priest says as his eyes carefully scan the whole venue. Amadis takes a deep breath and stares at Y/N before looking at his watch.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐎'𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊. 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑.

Amadis sighs to himself and whispers to himself, "God, it's all up to you now."

Y/N nervously looks around and gulps. Tom doesn't look around because he knows no one would even dare.

Or so he thought.

* * * *

wow cliffhanger

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14 @justanamesstuff @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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sami-at-ciela · 3 years

Text

Prompt 5, Bonus: Bounce

Or: “I had no idea what to write, so it became Puffski Sunday.”

A brief Puffski 101: puffskis are world-hopping puff people with stubby limbs. They travel from world to world, seeking adventure and nice places to live. They are my mascots. Meet them nice!

Shadowbringers spoilers? Maybe?

Also contains a few sentences at the end from an as-yet-unwritten meeting with Lord Vauthry. Spooky!

The round body of a puffski is quite rubbery, so they can shrug off impacts with ease.

One puffski named Billy had made his way to the First after exploring Eorzea for a time, as traveling between worlds was a simple task for the world-hopping puff people, bonus points for two worlds being connected. He wasn’t entirely sure where he would land, as none of his people that he knew of had ever been to the First, but he was sure he could find a nice adventurer to travel with.

Such a thought indicated his lack of understanding of the First.

The world transfer magic deposited him on the ceiling of the main plaza in Eulmore. Of course, he couldn’t stick there, so he promptly fell, bounced off the aetheryte, and landed on the floor, rolling to a stop a few paces away. Harrumphing and dusting himself off, he stood up. No one noticed the 6-inch-tall puffball falling from the ceiling somehow, which was equal parts a relief and a matter to grouse over for him.

Now that he was settled, he took in his surroundings. Opulent red and green and filigree trim surrounded him, and chandeliers dripping with jewels lit the area… not that they were necessary, given that it was the middle of the day (others would point out that it was not the middle of the day, but everlasting light). These people must be really rich! Billy mused. I’d have brought more widgets and artifacts if I’d known it was a buyer’s market.

Well, he couldn’t stay in one spot forever, so he stretched his stubby limbs and sauntered off. At this point, he could feel the stares on him, but no one was raising a fuss, which was ultimately better than the shocked reactions he’d received in some places. He stopped by what appeared to be an eatery of some sort and attempted to jump on a stool, but he couldn’t quite make it. So he pulled on the pant leg of a nearby patron. “Excuse me, sir, could you please help me onto the stool? I would like to see the counter!”

Chai-Nuzz looked down, saw Billy, and then jolted so hard his spectacles fell down his nose.

Billy just smiled and waved.

The man behind the counter was quick to react. “What’s the matter, Mr. Chai? We don’t have pests, do we?”

“I have no idea what this is,” Chai-Nuzz murmured. “I would have suspected an unusually small Sin Eater from Lord Vauthry, but it’s not the right color and has no business around regular food to begin with.”

“You can call me Billy, and I’m a puffski,” Billy said, as though that explained everything.

“Who said that?”

Chai-Nuzz squinted, lowered himself, and scooped Billy up before depositing him on the counter. “This ‘Billy’ did.”

Billy got the feeling that maybe this deal was going to go a bit sour for him. “Yes, hi,” he said, sheepishly scratching the back of his nubby head.

“Huh. He’s a cute little critter, and he has passable manners to boot,” the server said. “Why don’t you take the breakfast home to your wife and I’ll figure out what to do with him?”

“Breakfast?” Billy perked up. “Excuse me, Mr. Chai, right? If I buy my own breakfast, would you mind taking me with you? I would like to learn more about this place and the people who live in it!”

Chai-Nuzz arched an eyebrow. “Did you come in behind a new register?” A beat passed. “You won’t need to buy your own breakfast. There’s plenty in here, and I feel my wife will be willing to share.”

“That sounds like a fantastic deal! I’m sure a Discerning Man like you has a beautiful wife,” Billy said. “Is there a bag you would like to store me in, or should I just sit on your shoulder?”

“She’s certainly something,” Chai-Nuzz murmured before pulling out a pouch. “This should suffice.”

Billy hopped into the pouch, thanked Chai-Nuzz for the ride, and waited for a while. Soon, he became aware of being set down and the pouch opening. “Dulia, my dear, we have a guest,” Chai-Nuzz said from elsewhere, and with that, Billy hopped out of the bag.

He looked up at Dulia-Chai, in her fashionable glory, and waved. “Hi, pretty lady! You’re Mrs. Chai, right?” If it registered that Mrs. Chai was plus size for a Miqo’te, he paid it no heed, for puffskis in general and Billy in particular were not ones to judge based on size. Indeed, Billy took it as a sign that she may very well have some of the puffski spirit in her heart.

Dulia-Chai stared at Billy for five solid seconds before emitting a prolonged and borderline piercing squeal of utter delight. “Oh, my dear Nuzz! Wherever did you find such a delightful creature? And one so charming, too!”

“I found him at a restaurant,” Chai-Nuzz said, thoroughly understating the matter. “He calls himself Billy.”

“It is wonderful to meet you, Billy!” Dulia-Chai scooped Billy up and stroked his head lightly with one finger, demonstrating an awareness of scale. “Have you eaten this morning? I am certain we can spare you some morsels if not.”

“Not yet, but I appreciate your generosity!” Billy smiled and leaned into the finger petting. Such a gesture confirmed for him that Dulia-Chai had an innate understanding of the puffski spirit; one did not need to live with a puffski to display puffskish values and be a candidate for being an Honorary Puffski.

Breakfast itself was oddly silent, occupied mostly with the sounds of eating and clinking silverware. This was fine; Billy understood the need to focus on one’s food. Eventually, Dulia-Chai turned to Billy and studied him for a moment before declaring, “Billy looks a bit like Lord Vauthry, doesn’t he? A round body, stubby limbs, even the shape of his head… perhaps we can introduce them?”

“Oh? Is this Lord Vauthry the man who runs things around here?” Billy asked.

“You could say that,” Chai-Nuzz said. “He controls the Sin Eaters and grants us safety here in Eulmore.”

“Then I would very much like to meet him!” Billy bounced to standing, still holding a piece of chocolate-smothered pancake (and only now realizing how hard it was going to be to wash out of his fur).

“We ought to see what we can do!” Dulia chirped, and immediately began chattering about the people she would contact.

Billy simply grinned and enjoyed his pancake. What good fortune to be granted an audience with an important leader so quickly!

[On our next (?) episode...????]

Billy stood up, put his hands on his not-really hips, and began to speak. “Mr. Vauthry-”

“That’s Lord Vauthry to you.”

“Mr. Lord Vauthry, when a puffski has better table manners than you do, you ought to take a very careful look at how you’re doing things.”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #puffskis

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 42

Updates came through pictures of the home floors being torn up that you had wished to change and repair, with glimpses of each room being finished off had arrived. Piles of wood came in the mail next with a shot of your new chandelier that was hung up in its place. Along with the pirate ship chandelier your dad had help swapping out one of the two circular sconces hung a good fourteen feet off the ground from the eighteen foot ceiling to give your dad a good head clearance after several checks on chain lengths to find the right level. The dining room was first and room by room the team got to assembling everything to the impressive sketches that were easily to transfer to diagrams they used for creating what you had dreamed of. Including the adorable rounded built in bench for your dining area on your floor to go with a small table you had yet to choose you wanted to shop for with Richard.

More and more it was coming together and with each room done your dad got to cleaning all that he could, knowing you’d have done the same thing to get it all ready to be touched with hands or bare feet, same as you’d wash clothes before wearing them. Upstairs in the kids floor and your dad’s spare bedroom the crew of workers got to creating the bunk beds you had designed to impressive detail that swapped easily to blueprints for them at how precise all the measurements and designated layout you had compiled for them. Built ins for the nursery were among that list with a better setup in the damaged closets through that floor. The cabinets and counters on the moved layout included the new island for the kitchen and a second in your closet with bench attached, all full of storage to add to your hideaways. All these were just the perfect and off to the side with disposable camera in hand he captured the whole process to get the tiles laid in perfectly level. Flooring for each room was laid when each built in had been completed to ensure the floors wouldn’t have to be redone again later.

A few days later when he was certain that the tiles were solidified and able to be scrubbed stirring up the lingering urge to buy you the appliances to fill the empty spaces between nights of eyeing your furniture trying to guess just where you might want to move everything. For his own floor at least he had pictured coupons cut out of what he wanted to get to furnish his area to go with the paint choices he wished to have. This would take a while to get the home finalized but over the rest of your lifetimes you could make it a home for you and your soon to be growing family.

Fresh off a night shoot through the apartment door you went smirking as you flipped through the latest group of pictures from your dad he’d sent by mail. Expecting the lights off when you noticed they were on and out of exhaustion it took a moment to realize that Richard must have flown in to surprise you a day earlier. After locking the door to the kitchen you went finding your groggy fiancé in just a pair of sweats cooking you supper humming to himself. His feet shuffling side to side and post flinch at your hands easing from his elbows down his arms he smirked hearing, “Wanna dance handsome?”

“For the rest of my life.” Around he turned enjoying a loving moment of dancing together with you between stolen stirs of the meal on the skillet. With a warm kiss once the skillet was moved to the cool burner the dance came to an end and simply serving out the food. Onto his lap you were settled to eat together beginning the process of sharing all you’d missed. “I’m so sorry I missed those days responding to your calls and messages, my Love.”

“It’s ok, knew it must have been important. Didn’t think it would be another house for us.”

“Well I think it’s perfect to start our marriage off on the right foot in a place that’s all ours. Brought you some pictures, we can go through yours as well, compare notes.”

“How come you didn’t tell me you were coming in early?” you said easing your arms around the back of his neck deepening his smile having you in his arms again.

“Date mix up this once, though I do love surprising you this once it was by chance.” His arms tightened and he lifted you up as he stood carrying you to bed, “Now, bedtime.”

Shared pictures had a trip to the nearest paint shop to look at paint swatches for you to give a try in the break before the flight to New Zealand. Small plans like where furniture would be moved had been sketched out and marked off a few tasks at least for the big move you had to handle soon. Thankfully easier with the bunk beds already built as a surprise from your dad that he had it handled for you including having bought the mattresses for the eight of them the crews were glad to help ease into place to finish the job off. The moving crew had been hired already for the date filming was through and they would help a bit to bring everything inside, all mostly staying on the main floor except for the mattress that you and your dad, if they refused, could get up to the third floor to the empty non nursery bedroom under the staircase.

Over the big move the one thing brighter than this was collecting and paying for the wedding band he couldn’t stop stealing glances at while you were at work beaming at how everything was falling into place. He only had another week until it was time to head back to England and it took everything in him not to spoil the surprise for Lee that he could be moving in with you as he clearly wanted and was hinting to. Pictures didn’t help while he practically pouted over the pictures of the basement he even made suggestions of what colors he would choose for those walls he later would confirm with a trip to the store to find swatches of his own.

Half a week more was all Richard could handle and chuckling to himself he was off to the airport leaving you the task of putting the young man out of his misery so he could plan moving in when you decided to. You wouldn’t mind living in a half done home as long as you were working to finish it. And against his urge to be there to help you get it ready he did have to get back to film another tv appearance to finish off the list of jobs that might keep him from being done in time to fly out to New Zealand to be with you again in that wonderful place. A feeling Richard shared of the new place he had bought until he was staying with you to film an extra slot in King Kong and assist with whatever extra roles Peter might need in Return of the King before the big trip back to New York to actually move in with you.

Scenes flew by and finally you had everything with Lee’s help in your living room, including his furniture that now his siblings had shared they grew out of the interest in having his hand-me-downs for their own college dorms. Thankful for sharing the moving truck along with the team he helped to empty the apartments that you both turned the keys in for making sure that the mail boxes were empty before you did so. The truck drivers gave an estimate on when they would arrive at the new place and once the taxi arrived the trip to the same lovely airport was underway.

Trying to deflect the subject you asked Lee, “Glad you got some new clothes?” Referring to the wardrobe the film crew let you guys have. While some of the pieces you wore were a bit out of your taste you were thrilled to get the fluff accented jacket from your winter scenes along with the silver daisy ring you now wore on your right ring finger that had helped to cover the ring indent from your engagement ring while on screen. All the rest could be passed on to your cousins back in Texas or donated.

“I do enjoy free clothes, thought they might charge us for them though. Had to pay for one of the guys’ jackets on Soldier’s Girl.”

“I think it might be for our unique measurements.”

“No, they gave Tracy her wardrobe too, whole main slot got theirs,” making his brows furrow, “Kind of odd though. Like a fire sale.”

“Maybe they just do that for their Canadian shows, dump the wardrobes. Glad they didn’t try to give me that car. That clutch was bitchy as hell.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Thought it was just my feet being bigger than yours.” That had his eyes on you and his pout coming on, “Thanks again for letting me put my stuff in your basement. It won’t be in the way? Of all your things?”

You smirked answering, “No, I am fairly certain it won’t be.”

“Do you know when you’re going to move in?”

“Dad’s been picking up some tarps and stuff for us to get started on the primer for the rooms that were patched, which is pretty much all of the ones from the main floor up. Guess the old guy ran out of energy at the basement he only broke the pantry. Then there’s appliances.”

“So, like a few weeks?”

“Don’t know, we’ll see, a lot of walls to cover.”

“Any faster if I help?”

“If you like, but you don’t have to.”

“I like to paint.”

Security went easily except for the awkward grin you traded with the security agent who looked inside the box in his hand and then to you, “My wedding band.”

“Congratulations,” he said. Closing the box he put back in your satchel he asked you to empty for him seeing an unreadable clump of that and your pens and coin purse that didn’t turn out to be anything dangerous at all. The reveal greatly calmed his nerves from a start of the shift find he had been sharing with the other guards of how the passenger was arrested when the items were to be confiscated.

“Thank you, was a bit scared to mail it home.”

“I would be too.” He replied while you filled your bag again you shouldered with shoes in hand to step aside and pull your converse back on while Lee tied his sneakers back on.

All the way out to the bus once your bags were claimed from the baggage terminal Lee smiled trying to be coy that he was working his way back to the topic of the apartment again. A set of posters on the subway of new films out soon gave you a nice smokescreen to distract him all the way through the cameras and people excited to see you back in town again on their ways about their lives. All that missed the bouncy customer or familiar face gone for so long. Up the front stoop you went glad to be out of the public view feeling oddly sentimental back to the first time you’d gone up this stoop. Five flights later another sigh came from Lee who was following you to eat with you and your dad close to exploding to just demand the basement.

Right to your room the duffel and suitcase were taken and left while your smiling dad was setting the lunch he’d fixed for you three on the counter, right off knowing something was up with Lee. “Welcome back Lee.” He rumbled and watched you come back with a small gift bag with spare set of keys in hand he’d agreed to have cut for you to give to Lee as a surprise. Instantly knowing why you’d gone for the bag first thing to keep from hurling it at him later if he kept it up.

“Thanks, missed being around you too. Heard you’ve been busy mastering all the repairs of the new home.”

His eyes however shifted to the bag you dangled from its handles, “Merry Unbirthday there Grinner.”

“What did you get me?” he all but hummed out in your dad’s move closer to accept your tight hug. Tentatively he poked his fingers in the top of the bag to peek inside and his lips parted at the key ring hooked on his finger now out of the bag. “Why are there keys?” He managed to crack out making you giggle.

“Well I don’t want you trying to break the damn door down to get in to your apartment each night.” That broke the damn and with an elated shriek of sorts he over your back crashed into your dad’s chest around you hugging you both muffling your giggles to your dad’s deep chuckles patting him on the back until his step back freed you again.

“You’re serious?” He squeaked out with brows lifted.

“Seriously Lee, even when your agent sends you to LA, I have the room I’m not gonna have you staying in some hotel or whatever.”

“He does like to send me there,” he replied almost painfully.

Joe, “But you can always fly back, and when you pick to be in a relationship or whatever you can still come visit, come see the puppy we are going to pick.”

Lee’s open mouthed smile came back, “You’re getting a puppy?!”

“Not right away, still have to get the house good and back from New Zealand and all that, maybe for the holidays.” Deepening his grin even more.

Lee took his seat as your dad nudged you to yours to get eating saying, “For now, eat up, I know you are both chomping at the bit to get started and we could get a good deal handled before lunch if we time it right.”

Lee asked, “I do have to ask, we’re painting, don’t they have crews for that?”

Your dad answered, “The quote I got calling a company that paints was $800 supplies not included and they only work three hours a day, which by their math would take them to do one room.”

You scoffed, “Lazy bastards.”

The reply making him laugh and Lee smirk surprised at you, “Exactly, we’ve painted barns as a family in two days before. Huge barns, we could kill half the floor by nightfall easy I got L’s ladders he said we could use and we can get pizza tonight, stuffed crust then go and kill some more tomorrow and pause when the moving truck arrives. How did you split belongings, because, his stuff and those stairs-,”

You both answered, “His/Mine is in the back.”

“And we’ll tell them when it’s his stuff and they can use his front steps.” You added.

Your dad asked Lee, “How do you think your parents will take the news?”

That had Lee’s excited grin flinch down again, “Um, well, my dad actually got transferred back to Oklahoma. They moved back last month.”

“Lee,” you and your dad said together while you placed a hand on his shoulder luring his smile out again. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Joe, “Your Gran ok?”

Lee nodded, “She’s good, better, but dad missed home and the land and she needs help with her bee keeping and honey products which mom will be managing while dad still works and does his bit on the weekends. Sally and Will both got into southern universities so they’re close by and going to love that, so they will be thrilled that I have a home base here while they’re away.”

Joe, “You’re always gonna have a place at our homes, you know that.”

Lee nodded, “Dad says it helped that I moved out when I did, now I’ve been, I’ll say ‘on my own’ for a couple years almost, that helped his saying that with me on my feet and you guys here to be my family and support when they can’t, case in point my appendix, that they felt ok moving back again. And I’ve been working Off-Broadway parts and I’ve got another I’m auditioning for while you’re off to New Zealand. The two awards I’ve been nominated for from those roles they’re so proud and have been so excited to see me study and graduate twice with a Bachelor’s degree and it is a bit scary to not have them in their townhouse a subway stop away. But I can do it. You both did such amazing things all on your own so I know it’s not impossible.” He glanced your way asking, “How are the grandparents taking the move?”

“I haven’t really spilled I put money on it, they have this show they’re working on getting together before the premier next week. I have emailed Babu that I found a place, a home and he shared they were over the moon, inches from throwing money to get it for me if it was out of my budget because I mentioned that I was waiting on the Bard funds. They haven’t said much past progress on their show and there’s something in me saying they’re already picking out my wedding dress, because it was huge when I told them Rich proposed. Long call, it’s big.”

Lee smirked chuckling along with your dad who said, “Oh they picked some designs from top designers, including an adaptation of the one they had planned for your mom’s.”

That had Lee looking between you reading the mood at the hardly mentioned mysterious mom that was subtly taken as a sore topic for the both of you, “They did? I thought I’d be too short for that dress.”

Lee, “I’m picturing poofy.”

You looked at him, “It’s actually more, think swan lake, jewel accents around the edges and down the dress, which is pink and it’s a mermaid figure with a sheer back section.”

He was smiling again, “Pink dress?”

“If you get married in the snow you have to stand out. It’s a blush at best, really beautiful.”

Hand extended your dad patted your hand, “If you want the dress they will make sure it fits your figure flawlessly.”

“You don’t think they’d force a big bash?”

“No,” he shook his head, “They’ve actually seen pictures and video of the reception we had and they love the pictures, if you wanted a ceremony at home on the ranch they would be all for it. Less stress and they could see where you grew up outside of their visitations.”

Lee purred, “So, how will they act if you bought a house?”

After swallowing your mouthful you had been chewing you replied, “Nowhere near as bad as it will be when they hear Rich bought a house too in England and we’ve both picked rooms for which would fit a possible nursery.” That had your dad chuckle around his mouthful.

Lee, “Wow, babies already?”

“We just want to know where to put the baby when we get one,”

Lee chuckled, “Where to put it,”

“There’s a room on the third floor, you’ll see it, I walk in, it’s the perfect spot for a nursery.”

Your dad said, “You do just know, right up there with where you want the pool table or big screen, you catch a vibe.”

Lee, “I can’t wait to see your baby room.”

Excitedly you said, “I picked a pirate ship chandelier for it.” Parting his lips in a smile, “Peter Pan theme.”

Lee, “I am so jealous, where the hell did you find a pirate ship chandelier?”

“L’s books he gave us for supplies and lighting.”

Lee, “You are going to have such lucky stunning babies. I am so jealous, love you both, but so jealous, and if I ever do get a baby on the way you are decorating my nursery.”

“Your babies are going to be so tall,” Your dad chuckled again, “Mine up in the air, cuz they could take after him and get actual legs for days or be tiny like me.” Your head turned to your dad, “Speaking of which, we need a courtesy level for those shelves in the kitchen that anything communal is down where I can reach it.”

He nodded saying, “I actually made sure your cabinets are a bit longer than average, which the builders were a bit confused until I said how tall you are.”

“Tall,” you giggled out and Lee laughed knowing what you were hinting to. “Me on my toes the Director was floored when I got back asking if I’d grown. Said I was stretching and he didn’t believe me till I went flat footed again.”

Your dad chuckled and said, “Communal levels are accepted, and your reading nook, got you a special set of steps for you that can be moved around to match the shelves. Since there’s carpet there we can lay down a runner to keep from getting indents in it. You could still grow taller, who knows, I grew another three inches when I hit 26, you burst up 6 inches a few years back, who knows.”

“I don’t imagine myself shooting up another six inches,” you giggled out, “And there is no telling how much easier it would be to get roles where they don’t have to worry about pairing me with a living tree like Lee here. You should have seen the panic first day when we showed on set and I was in sneakers and he’s a good foot plus over me,” making Lee chuckle lowering his fork.

Lee while you took another bite said, “Full deer in the headlights till she goes up nearly on her toes. Loved it, each day seeing her just kill their expectations they set for her. Legit they thought she was around 5 ft 9 on set before she got there just seeing her in the Ring compared to Amber.”

Your dad said, “You’re always able to stretch and defy appearances, and you will continue to, even in ballet you make the most elegant long lines like you have legs for days just like your mom could do. Your height has never held you back until those idiots at the London Ballet used it as an excuse to not use a Bolshoi prodigy. And they are eating those words since Bard came out I can bet you that.”

You nodded and said, “Babushka called about that, they asked what my schedule was next year,” parting their lips. “She in her own screw you stoic flare said that as long as the director who tried to hint that I had to screw him on a night out on the town to get a role was working there I would never touch their company door again.”

Lee, “Good for her,”

“All while Babu had been leaking the reason I didn’t renew my contract and now there’s a twenty five principal dancer roster who have filed a lawsuit saying they were exploited out of their company.”

Lee, “Oh shit!”

“Exactly, it is, huge. The director got fired and all these companies and doing an inventory of their casting directors and have been snapping up those formerly blacklisted dancers for their next seasons.”

Your dad said, “They did the right thing, you aren’t changing your mind, are you?”

“The Royal Ballet actually asked if I would be up to a sort of Little Mermaid show they are going to film, so it would be one performance, ballet and the musical aspect, they need someone that can do what I did in Bard it’s a whole sort of alternative ballet twist. I told them I’d be up for it, the whole thing is going for this children’s hospital charity as for tickets and disc sales, the director’s kid was sick and he saw so many kids there with parents struggling and it’s going to be so good but they want to nail down the cast now.”

Lee, “You gotta do it.”

Your dad nodded, “That would be fantastic, and there’s no telling how your friends will blow up about it like they did Chicago. Do they show the kids the show?”

“Yes, they’re going to have a whole premier in a few hospitals for the kids and their parents. Which it’s getting Disney’s permission for the musical and it sounds really fun. It’s the songs the kids all know it’s just got ballet added to it.”

Lee smiled, “And you’re Ariel?”

“Yes,” you smiled, “They want my hair a bit longer though, it’s been good that I got to tie my hair back this last month, since I lightened my hair it’s been growing like crazy. Nearly to the middle of my back when I straighten it. And they just have this apple red hair spray they’re gonna try on my hair to try and keep from my having to bleach it all and then go fire engine red that I’ll be talking to the Queens about. And they have extensions ”

Your dad, “I think it’s mainly due to having the color there to show where it used to be. When do rehearsals start?”

“Next week, then it’s two weeks of rehearsals then it’s on that Saturday.”

Lee asked, “And they always had Little Mermaid in mind?”

That had you giggle, “Mr Tarl from Julliard is heading it with Mr Combs and they said they could get in touch with me and again I’m going short notice on this but it’s so good from what they told me. They did say it would be hitting the press today.”

Your dad asked, “And the gramps know?”

“Babu does, that was part of the call for the London Ballet thing. No doubt will be bragging again, they are going to jet out for it, should have their show stable by then and they are thrilled it’s for charity and they can buy a copy or dozens of copies. And then I can show them the place, sort of a two-fer.” That had them chuckle in your shoulder pop taking another bite of your food.

Hair tied back once you’d changed from your sweater to an already paint splattered t shirt to go with your shorts that you didn’t mind getting paint on as you had another pair of jeans ready to be cut off soon at the countless tears they’d gained over the years. Practically shaking Lee eyed the front gate you unlocked followed by the next two, the first you locked behind you leaving the mudroom open in Lee’s excited circle that had you giggling showing him first the chandelier and starting with the book hideaway your hand latched onto your dad’s in each exciting discovery of what he’d added from your designs.

Every floor upwards was searched with you lingering in front of the beds you had designed. Both sets of bunk beds brought to life to perfection the both of you tested the steps on alongside your dad for a third heftier body proving your plan did truly work before Lee trotted down the steps to his floor he absolutely loved mentally settling colors and layout of his furniture. Then he broke out of that to come back up with you to start opening the windows on the main floor beginning to lay out the tarps ignoring the people taking pictures of you and the guys.

The guys worked rollers up and down the walls. You focused on taping and edging the molding before climbing on the highest ladder you sat on the top rung with a long handled brush to mark along the top of the ceiling that your dad scooted around the room to help you finish the whole room. The front rooms were first up and working your ways back having skipped the wall going up the stairs you managed to finish off half the floor stopping for a lunch on the patio off the sunroom enjoying the sun and fresh air until the primer called again. The second half was easier with the kitchen being mostly tile and cupboards coating the walls except for strips along the top. Even without paint the room had you giddy to see an actual kitchen coming together. And with the back windows cracked you locked the front ones and closed the shutters again to head back to your apartment for pizza dinner.

Partway done with the second floor through the open windows you heard and upon moving to them the moving truck was viewed. Down you hurried to welcome the crew that unloaded the main furniture into the center of the living room before helping to get the mattress up to the top floor into your bedroom. The crew carried the barely used mattress from Canada to be broken in over the years for your bedroom. With yours from the NY apartment set to be settled in the third floor while your dad would be glad to take the set of mattresses from the half bedroom to stretch out on top of the bed platform kit he had bought and had been building to keep them together.

Lee’s things were easier with his boxes settled around the furniture he’d move to his preference later to help you get back to finishing the second floor. Lee got called to an audition the third day but still you and your dad kept on working and somehow finishing by lunch without having to juggle that third person. The spare time gave you plenty of time to work in your apartment at night to get up to that peak limber state you liked to be in that your nerves had told you that you weren’t in even after having spent nights reverting to your ballet stretches and elastic band exercises in the last months of the show.

Pt 43

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #In Canada #Finish Filming #Back to New York #Progress Reports #Painting Now #Remodeling the Brownstone

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deermi · 4 years

Text

Wonderwall | Part 4

Summary: He was a genius. He had absolutely everything. Money, fame, attention of all the celebrities, sports cars that everybody wanted, countless villas, and much more. The life every single person wanted to live. But all he needed was you.

Genre: Angst (I guess)

Warnings: Alcohol use

AU: Fashion CEO

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Reader

Word count: 3k~

Author’s note: Ah, I have so wany wips that I don’t know which ones to post. Anyways, “Wonderwall” will most probaby have 6/7 parts and an epilogue. I hope you liked this chapter and thank you for reading it!

We had spent the dinner rather quietly - eating, drinking, exchanging a few sentences from time to time. The waiters had been ogling our pair almost without any shame as we had sat at the table. I don’t know whether it had been because they had known who the man with neon green hair is, or because we had been acting so strangely around each other. Perhaps both reasons were correct. The atmosphere between us hadn’t been awkward nor stiff in the restaurant. It had been filled with some kind of tension, but I couldn’t have quite put my finger on it.

Now we were back in his car, heading to a destination that remained unknown for me. But I didn’t want to ask feeling like it would’ve been just another question of mine he’d ignore. It was so quiet inside the vehicle, the only sounds coming from the streets as we strolled around the city, that I had a feeling like the beating of my heart was as loud as a drum put next to Mr Kwon’s ear.

“You’re not going to ask where we’re going?”

I turned my head around with my brows furrowed at his sudden question. My boss had one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the door of the car while his eyes were concentrated on the road ahead of us.

“I didn’t feel like it.” I answered bluntly, trying not show any interest in our destination

He glanced at me with the corner of his eye before focusing back on the traffic. There must’ve been a visible spark of unquenchable curiosity he had noticed because in a few seconds I heard his voice once more.

“We’re going to my place.” Mr Kwon nonchalantly moved his hair out of his eyes with his free hand

I bit on my tongue before blurting out the ‘what for’ that had almost slipped out of my lips. Instead I just nodded at his words and started to stare at the city lights out of the window back again. We strolled down, the dim brightness coming from the street lamps shining through the windows, making everything inside the vehicle appear yellowish. There were almost no people outside, making the night even quieter than I had previously thought it is. No usual honking of the cars, no roaring of engines, no sound coming from the radio.

That scene surrounding me was calming. Or at least should’ve been like that. However, with the knot of anxiety tightening inside my stomach, I wasn’t able to focus on the soothing silence.

It was madness. Pure madness. All the things that had happened since that damned photoshoot. Modeling, asking for my opinion, giving me a lift, and that dinner we just had. And telling me to call him Jiyong was on top of the peak. I had never heard of a boss asking one of his employees to call them by their first name. It was just another level of intimacy I would’ve never even thought of reaching. Moreover, it was completely unprofessional, especially that he insisted I did it at our workplace as well. It was just the first step to cause the rumors both among the workers and the world of celebrities. Although, it seemed to me that Mr Kwon either didn’t care about that, or simply wanted to cause them. What for? More fame? Recognition? I already had that. So maybe for himself? To make himself feel better by having someone close?

And then it hit me. The sudden realisation made me snap out of the transe I had been in for those few minutes of our ride.

I had never seen Mr Kwon with a friend, a colleague, or even talking to anybody who could’ve been one of them on the phone. Not mentioning a partner. All I could think of when I thought of him was hard work and absolute focus on it. He had his goals and always gave his all to reach them. And he actually did everytime - with his genius mind and determination he was almost destined to be successful. But what if behind this cold facade of strong will, was just a lonely soul which desperately needed comfort in the shape of another person’s warmth? What if he finally had enough of always being alone? Of being expected to be the genius who created ‘Peaceminusone’?

The heavy thoughts inside my head were suddenly interrupted by Mr Kwon stopping the car in front of a tall building. He turned off the engine and got out of the vehicle without sparing me a glance. I unbuckled my seatbelt hurriedly, fidgeting with the strap, ready to follow him. When it snapped roughly against the seat I reached out to grab the door handle, but it quickly flew out of my reach once Mr Kwon opened the door. I looked up and noticed that he was staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

Without a word he outstretched his hand for me to take, just like he had done it before in front of the restaurant. Once more I placed my palm on his and let him pull me out of the car.

While he was closing the door behind me, my eyes flew up to the sky. Mr Kwon had parked the car in front of a tall skyscraper. The windows of the building glistened as city lights reflected in them making it look like it was made out of black shiny crystal. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight. I felt so small facing the enormous structure, but the view was so beautiful and so overwhelming at the same time, I couldn’t help it.

It was weird how a simple skyscraper made me feel like that. Actually the stifling part of it was the thought that it was the place, or more probably one of the places, my boss lived in. And he was taking me inside with him - completely crossing the line drawn between the company’s boss and their employee once more.

We entered the building with his hand on the small of my back. The heels I was wearing were loudly tapping on the marble floor, completely breaking the silence inside the lobby. The man standing behind the reception desk bowed without a word at the sight of me and Mr Kwon entering. My boss led me to the elevator, without sparing a glance to the guy, and pressed the button. I felt the eyes of the receptionist burning holes in my back as we patiently waited. With the ring the door in front of us opened revealing the lightened inside of the elevator. Once we were alone within the four walls and the curious stare of the man was cut off, I let out a quiet sigh of relief while Mr Kwon was busy pressing the button at the very top of a long row of them.

Again any of us didn’t say a word letting the silence fill the space between us. I didn’t move, didn’t even dare to look at the mirror next to me, afraid that my reflection would reveal how stressed I actually was. And after what felt like eternity the door opened revealing the place my boss wanted me to see.

The enormous penthouse in front of my eyes almost literally shone with luxury. The glass chandelier above hanged above our heads making the light reflect in the stone floor as we stepped inside the living room, which was probably the size of my whole apartment, or even bigger. Everything inside just screamed ‘expensive’ - the leather sofa, the black television set, the huge window wall through which you could see the city lights shine below your feet. And above all, every single piece of furniture, every square meter of that space, reminded me of Mr Kwon. It was just his place. His place that I was invading despite the fact that he had invited me here. I felt like I just didn’t belong there.

“What wine do you prefer?”

I turned my head around to see my boss taking off his tuxedo jacket in one swift move before walking up to a glass cabinet full of different types of alcohol and opening it.

“Um…” I took a glance at the numerous bottles, not sure what to say, since there was surely a huge variety available “White. Semi sweet.”

Without any answer Mr Kwon just grabbed one of the wines along with two glasses. He walked up to a coffee table in front of the leather sofa and placed everything on the surface. Swiftly he opened the bottle and began to pour the clear liquid into the tumblers.

In the meantime I came closer to the window. The view in front of me was absolutely breathtaking. Seeing the whole city shine beautifully during the night and having it almost literally at my feet was one of the most picturesque sights I had ever seen in my life.

When Mr Kwon finished pouring the wine, he approached me with a glass in each hand and handed out one of them. The smell of sweet alcohol reached me before my fingers wrapped around the fragile crystal. He gently bumped his tumbler into mine, making the sound of clattering echo inside the room.

I took a sip of the drink feeling the slightly bitter flavour on my tongue. The taste was much different from the taste of the wine you could get in any supermarket, making me wonder how much was this alcohol actually worth.

With the glass still against my lips I turned around to look at the night sky again.

“Do you like it?” Mr Kwon asked me

“The view?” I glanced at him with the corner of my eye and saw him giving me a single nod before sipping on the wine “Yes. I actually like it a lot.”

“Do you want it every day?” his another question hanged in the air for a few seconds as I started to process his words “Do you want to be able to see it every day?”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a small voice, afraid of what might come next

“I can buy you an apartment like this one.” he answered nonchalantly like it was something completely normal

I immediately shook my head abruptly trying to get that idea out of his head “Thank you, Jiyong. But I really can’t ac-“

“Or you can stay here with me.”

I almost choked on the wine.

“W-what?”

In response he shrugged with his eyes focused on the view in front of us and said “You’ll do whatever you want. It’s your decision.”

For a few seconds none of us said anything, as his words echoed in my head.

“Just say a word and you’ll get anything you want.” he added

I took a shaky breath trying to ignore my heart beating loudly against my ribcage. I took another sip of the wine hoping the alcohol would give me either more courage, or help me relax.

“Okay.” I whispered quickly with the glass pressed against my lips

We were just looking out of the window, absorbing the night view in front of us with the bitter taste on both of our tongues. I desperately drank up the liquid looking for some kind of relief in it. Mr Kwon, without any warning, took the glass from my hands and walked up to where the bottle was standing to refill it along with his. While he was busy pouring the drink I took a few hesitant steps toward the sofa standing in the middle of the room. My boss’ eyes followed me as I plopped down on the leather seat, feeling the material of the black dress I was wearing fold against the skin of my legs.

If Mr Kwon had had something against my actions, he hadn’t spoken a it out loud, but I was slowly starting to get used to the thought that I was allowed to do almost everything here.

I didn’t know wether it was the alcohol that made me feel slightly dizzy, or the atmosphere between me and Mr Kwon. Yet I felt somehow weightless - the boundaries that had previously stopped me from doing what I wanted around my boss began to disappear.

He sat down next to me, resting his arm on the back of the couch and handed me the wine. His eyes carefully scanned my frame as I took the glass from his hands and drained out the whole liquid from inside.

Did I want to get drunk? Maybe. But I for sure wanted to feel even lighter, even more immune to anything that was happening around me for the past few days. It was all so bizzare and almost completely inimaginable. Still, it was the reality that I had to live in. I wanted to make it easier, less stressful, or I wanted to give myself more courage to bear with it. And I wanted to do it as fast as possible.

“Can I have more?” I asked quietly, looking Mr Kwon in the eyes for the first time in forever

He stared at me with his obsidian dark orbs for a moment before grabbing the bottle and pouring the liquid into my glass until the very last drop. Once more I pressed the tumbler against my lips and let more alcohol run through my veins.

My visit to this place was just the beginning and I was fully aware of that. How could I handle more? What could come next?

I wasn’t afraid of Mr Kwon - yes, he was cold for most of the time, but the realisation that had hit me during our ride was helping me understand his actions at least to some extent. Were I his remedy? Were I the warmth he lacked? Or maybe something different? A person others would describe as a muse, an inspiration?

“What are you thinking about?” Jiyong’s quiet voice pierced through my thoughts, making me look at him as I let my head fall down on the back of the seat behind me

“Nothing important.” I whispered not trusting my voice enough to speak louder

My eyelids felt heavier than before, the alcohol finally rushing to my head. I closed my eyes and started to take slow, deep breaths, the silence in the room calming me down. Mr Kwon slowly took out the empty glass from my hands and I heard him placing it on the table along with his. I felt his burning gaze on my face as everything went quiet once more.

“You’re beautiful.” the subtle touch of his fingers slowly caressing my cheek made me look at him, immediately locking my eyes with his dark ones “So beautiful.”

And before I could even realise, Jiyong’s lips gently touched mine. I had to proceed what was happening because it felt so unreal. The breath caught in my throat at his actions as I looked straight ahead dumbfoundedly, feeling stonecold sober for a few seconds. I couldn’t push him away - I didn’t know wether I even wanted to do that. So I let my eyelids fall down as I kissed him back slowly without any emotions. There was nothing in the kiss - it was empty. No love, no passion, not even lust. No anything. Just lips moving against lips, skin against skin.

His mouth pressed more firmly on mine when he felt me kissing him back. He moved his hand that had previously been caressing the skin of my cheek to my waist. Jiyong tilted his head to deepen the kiss and swiftly swiped his tongue against mine.

My body felt numb, head empty, no thoughts. I let the alcohol in my veins work for me.

His grip on my waist got stronger and he moved me to sit on his lap without disconnecting our lips. The dress rode up my thighs, revealing more skin of my legs, as I straddled him with my palms pressed on his shoulders to steady myself. I let his tongue explore my mouth making the bitterness of wine strengthen on my lips. Jiyong’s kisses were desperate, firm. His skilled mouth worked against mine making me feel dizzy not from the emotions coming from it, but the alcohol taking control over my body.

He pulled mt flush against his chest making me grip the soft material of his white shirt. He pressed another open mouthed kiss to my lips before pulling away, lacking air as much as I did. His forehead was pressed against mine, while his hand rose up from my waist and moved the loose hair away from my face.

“Stay for the night.” Jiyong’s voice was soft yet firm

I could’ve said no. But for some reason I didn’t. Perhaps because of the boost of confidence the wine had given me. Or maybe because some part of me wanted to be what would fix him, make him feel better.

“Okay.”

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falconedreams · 4 years

Text

Job Hunting In The Zombie Apocalypse

Last night I dreamt that there was a zombie apocalypse in full swing (not my fault this time!) It wasn’t like in the movies where everywhere was uniformly fucked, it was more like the current global pandemic situation - wealthy people/areas were less affected, almost life as usual - we’d see heavily armed trucks full of fresh food go into the heavily fortified CBD/nice private housing estates, and occasionally we’d hear on the radio or see a week-old paper or something, about the stock prices of XYZ company rising or whatever - but the rest of SG was basically like Season 2 of the Walking Dead. No word on what the situation was in the rest of the world. I knew the Causeway was for sure closed, but apart from that - I expect that the rest of the world was in a similar situation, since those day traders would have to have someone to trade with.

I lived in a safe camp which was a repurposed schoolhouse, like one of those really old one-storey schoolhouses built back in the early days of independence. A few of the OITNB cast also lived there, for some reason (Nichols, Morello, Vause), as well as that guy from The Promised Neverland (spoilers!) who reminds me of Seth except that he’s missing an arm instead of an eye. Lucas, I think he’s called. Then there were a bunch of other people whom I didn’t know, mostly kids to 20+ year olds. Lucas was the only one over 30, I think, and he was the leader and the Team Dad. Also the only one with his moral compass still intact through the whole fiasco. We were trying to rescue as many people as possible so like - space for growing crops was rapidly shrinking, and food and medical supplies were being consumed faster. I wanted to go steal stuff from the rich people’s warehouses or supply trucks, because COME ON, we’ve got kids under 10 in here who are barely meeting the caloric requirements of a cat, and those fuckers out there are hoarding daikon radishes and lettuce just because they want to have decoration with their sushi?! And are just going to throw it away after?! They can damn well eat their sushi on normal plates and spare us the lettuce! But Lucas was all “No, our war is with the zombies, not the other humans. We must not pick a fight with our own.”

So that’s how I ended up job-hunting. It transpired that I was the only one at my camp who had a university education, so it was decided that I should try to get a job in the CBD in order to legally buy food and medical supplies. We managed to boot up a computer in the school’s com lab and I typed out a resume on - miraculously, the Microsoft Word license was still intact ._. Which I then started constantly spamming to any job opening I could find on the lousy camp internet.

The first position I heard back from was with a game development/animation company, weirdly enough. We somehow scrounged up a half-decent outfit for me and I went to interview. The journey from camp to CBD was fucking perilous, and Nichols and Morello died. Even when I reached the gates it took an insane amount of convincing for the guards to let me in. Finally, when I reached the company - wow. They were living the high life like nothing was happening outside. The whole place was chandeliers, mirrors, burnished gold and white marble. There was an in-house spa and daily buffet lunch and dinner. I was sooooooo anxious to get the job then, because - holy shit. I could steal food from the buffets and hygiene products from the spa to bring back to camp! Maybe I could even put a few of the kids onto my dependents’ health insurance!

All of that flew straight out of the window when I met the interviewer. It transpired that he’d really only called me in so that he could tear me down to stroke his ego. He was super smug and without even discussing anything related to the position, on sight started berating me for overestimating my capabilities, How Dare I apply to this position without even so much as a BFA, Millennials these days were So Entitled, Everyone’s Calling Themselves An Artist These Days, etc etc - and, well, I blew up at him. I told him a) it’s a free country, it’s not against the law for me to apply to positions I’m underqualified for just to try my luck; b) I sent in my resume with the application, he had to have known I didn’t have a BFA, so why’d he call me in if he didn’t think I was qualified; c) oh, I know, because he just wanted to stroke his own ego, in which case he could shove my application and his desktop monitor you-know-where.

Of course, he terminated the interview on the spot and called security to come escort me out. But before they managed to find and apprehend me, I managed to steal all the pads from the pad dispensers in the washrooms, as well as all the candy from the reception/waiting areas, so it wasn’t a completely wasted trip after all.

Sorry, Lucas.

#falcone dreams #text #zombie apocalypse #job interview #oitnb #the promised neverland

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artistic-writer · 5 years

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The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 5

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal. Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some. A/N: Here is ch 5!! Graham is still a dick, Emma is very naughty and Killian buys a sex toy! This chapter is so much fun ;) Enjoy! Thanks to @kmomof4 who beta’d this one, because she is awesome <3 I would also like to give a MASSIVE thank you to @itsfabianadocarmo for her beautiful artwork that she so graciously allowed me to use from now on! <3

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics. Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg. Just so you know. There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O. If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :) Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @effulgentcolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist: I’ll be honest, i have lost my taglist for this fic, so if you want a tag, please message me here on on discord (Salem #5158/ [email protected]) and I’ll add you! I’ve tagged the following people i KNOW want to read this, but i don’t want to accidentally tag you if you do not like ABO.

@hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thisonesatellite @xemmaloveskillianx @hookedonapirate @teamhook @winterbaby89 @carpedzem @courtorderedcake

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The lobby of the hotel was as Killian would have expected when he had received a call from Graham’s PA informing him that they were to meet again. Graham had insisted, as part of their agreement, that Killian would be paid in cash upon a meeting after each visit with Emma. Of course, that meant that there was no paper trail of his or Emma’s indiscretions, which suited Killian just fine. It was the only part of the damned contract he actually agreed with.

Just like everything else Graham Humbert had a hand in, this meeting place was as flamboyant and pompous as Killian had foreseen, with silken drapes with golden embroidery hanging on every window. Massive diamond chandeliers hung along the hall, and the sound of water flowing through an indoor fountain was accompanied by the soothing lilt of music that Killian was sure was emanating from some kind of hidden speaker system. The huge, marble columns stood floor to ceiling, lining the edges of both sides of the room, and were so highly polished that Killian could see his reflection clearly in them as he walked past. The floor, equally as polished to within one inch of its life, did little to absorb the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bar area, and Killian kept a careful eye out for anyone who might be more than unwelcomed at the meeting.

He had noticed that Graham never travelled alone, always meeting him with two big, burly henchmen at his side. They never sat with them, but were never far enough away that Graham would be in any sort of trouble if he found himself in a sticky situation. In a world where strength was everything, Graham’s actions made Killian chuckle. Humbert so desperately wanted to be an Alpha that he often forgot that, fundamentally, an Alpha would never need protection, or a bodyguard, let alone two of them, and it just spoke to how insecure Graham really was.

Killian’s lips ticked up into a small, tight smile that he hid under a swipe of his tongue, lest one of them be nearby. It wasn’t long before Killian spotted one of them, a big, fat lump of a man he had seen before, distinguished by three neck ripples of fat sitting on top of the collar of his shirt. He was slouched forward over a table nursing a glass of amber liquid, most likely expensive whiskey due to the reputation of the place, with one foot up on the cross beam of the chair and the other resting on the toe of his shoe. He had sushi, Killian could smell that much, four tiny pieces of fish decorated with carrot and cucumber that probably cost as much as his suit.

Off to the sushi scoffing man’s left was the other pitbull Graham kept at hand who Killian liked to refer to as ‘bowtie’. The man was easily spotted in a crowd because he always insisted on wearing a red bowtie with a crisp white shirt with matching red cufflinks that sat next to his oversized hands. He didn’t say much, not even a little grunt, but he was always sitting closest to their boss, and it wasn’t long before Killian spotted Graham Humbert behind him. He was, as usual, pretending to watch the world go by like it owed him something, and Killian felt the bile rise in his throat.

“Jones,” Humbert greeted cordially, pushing himself to his feet and extending his hand. Killian’s eyes flicked towards the man’s palm but he scoffed, his jaw ticking in annoyance. When he lifted his gaze back to meet Graham’s, a sickly sweet smile grew over Humbert’s lips. “Sit down,” he commanded like he was talking to a dog and motioned to the seat opposite him.

Killian refrained from hitting the man by biting his inner cheek and undid the single button on his suit jacket so that he could sit more comfortably. He sank down into the seat, a plush but executive tub chair with a checkered pattern that only just accommodated his bulk, and leaned back to take in the man before him. He hated Humbert even more with each meeting and he couldn’t help but dig his nails into the brass rivets at the front side of the chair’s arm.

“I’ll spare you the formalities, Mr Jones, because I’m a busy man,” Humbert began, sinking down into his own chair.

Killian thought the knee high table between them wasn’t enough space and he despised the feeling he had when Graham reached into the breast pocket of his fine, tailored jacket and fished out a pristine white envelope that clearly bulged with his payment. Humbert slid it across the table, tapping it with a finger.

“I’d love to know what you did with my wife last night.” He raised a brow, almost impressed. “She’s very happy.”

The thought of knotting Emma flashed across his mind, and Killian had to suppress a smirk, shifting in the chair when his groin tingled.

“Not something I’m willing to share this time.” Killian looked Graham dead in the eyes and didn’t look away, emphasising the first word. “However much you pay me.”

Graham took him in, sniggering at Killian’s aggressive tone. “Yes, well, you can spare yourself the Alpha dramatics, Jones. I wasn’t looking to take anymore of your ‘secrets’.” Graham flicked his wrist, his clearly solid gold watch heavy and rattling just a tad against his skin, and then looked at the time. “I don’t have time for your stories today.”

“Something more important to do?” Killian snapped.

“Someone, actually,” Graham sneered, licking his lips afterwards. “And she won’t wait long.”

Killian bit his tongue, regretfully deciding to not upset the man who could control his access to Emma.

“Please,” Graham scoffed, brushing the wrinkles from the front of his shirt as he pushed himself to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye Killian saw both bodyguards stop whatever they were doing and prepare to leave as well. “Spare me the judgemental looks and angry Alpha brooding. A man has needs, I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

Killian leapt to his feet, chest to chest to Graham. “I’m not just a man though, am I?”

Graham didn’t flinch, instead grinning like a proud cheshire cat. “You’re whatever I pay you to be.”

The blood pounded in Killian’s ears, his heart rate well and truly elevated to beyond what his body was comfortable with. Emma was worth this. Emma was worth anything Humbert could throw at him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play unfairly either.

“Your wife wants a knot,” Killian blurted, his hot breath fogging Graham’s face through clenched teeth. When Humbert’s smile faded, Killian knew he had touched a sore subject. As much as Graham could pretend, he would never have that one true Alpha attribute he wanted as desperately as his wife. “It seems a shame to leave her so unfulfilled,” Killian shrugged. “I mean, we might as well not even have this arrangement at all if she isn’t getting what she wants so you can get what you want.”

Killian heard Humbert take a deep breath and consider his words. Killian mulled over his expression, watching the puny man’s entire thought process by simply studying his face, Graham’s eyes widening between frowns as his mind went to work. Killian could tell Graham was conflicted. No Alpha for Emma meant no mistress for him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Killian’s lips.

“I might have an idea so that everyone is happy,” Killian shrugged casually, knowing from the way Graham was sweating that he hadn’t found an option to his own dilemma yet.

“Go on,” Graham encouraged.

“I know of a certain toy that could facilitate what your wife wants,” Killian offered. He stepped back and buttoned his jacket, pushing the button through its hole slowly and deliberately. The smile that graced Killian’s lips was a combination of memories of the day before, when he had actually knotted Emma for real, and the knowledge that Graham was so arrogant, he would believe this whole thing to be his idea. Killian knew Emma would want nothing less than the real thing, his knot thrust up into her as she whimpered in delight, but that didn’t stop Killian playing Graham’s ego against him. “There would be no actual knotting, of course,” he finished, looking up to Graham’s intent expression. “As per your contract.”

“Like a sex toy?” Graham frowned.

“Exactly,” Killian nodded smugly. “A lot of hired Alpha’s wear them during encounters.”

“How much extra would this cost me?” Graham sneered, disgusted but intrigued at the idea all the same.

“Nothing,” Killian shook his head. “I’m sure I can afford one, what with your generous payments.” Killian leaned down and retrieved the money from the table, the envelope crinkling in his hand as he folded it in half and tucked it into the front pocket of his pants. “I just need to know if it's against the agreement we have to use one.” Killian's voice was darker, and he fixed his gaze on Graham once more.

Graham waggled a finger in Killian’s direction, a small chuckle tumbling from his mouth. “You know, Mr Jones, I think I’m beginning to like you.”

Killian shuddered, swallowing hard and looking down to his feet.

“Go buy what you need,” Graham nodded, balling his hands in his pockets. “In fact, why don’t you take Emma with you and then go back to the apartment.” Killian’s head snapped up at his offer and Graham just gave him a sickeningly modest glare like it was still up to him whether Emma saw Killian or not.

“What’s the catch?” Killian narrowed his eyes.

“No catch,” Graham assured him with a bow of his head, the most honest thing Killian had ever seen him do. Maybe the fool was in love with his mistress after all. “Think of it as a bonus for a job well done.”

“And what’s in it for you?” Killian scrutinized Graham, knowing full well that a man of his stature never did anything without something in return.

“Let’s just say, with Emma away, the mice can play.” Graham winked and Killian felt his stomach turn over. Now he was absolutely sure the man before him held no love for his wife at all, willing to defile their marital bed with his mistress, something he knew Emma was against doing with him. Then again, he also knew it wasn’t about respect for her marriage, but finding something new with someone else, somewhere else that held no memories of Humbert repression.

Killian felt sick at the thought of Emma as some sort of transactional incentive, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was from Graham Humbert. Killian already knew he would do anything for her, Humbert be damned, and he dreamed of taking her away from everything she knew and showing her the life she deserved. Emma’s life wasn’t pleasant, he knew that, but when she was with him, she was herself, the real Emma, and Killian wanted that for her all of the time. Maybe he could show her that today.

“If you insist,” Killian nodded in agreement, only too willing to take Emma out and show her exactly how precious she actually was.

Not seeing Emma for a few days had almost killed Killian, especially when he knew that the next time they would see each other, they would be shopping for something he had tricked her husband into agreeing to. The idiot. Truth be told, Killian had in fact needed to pre-order the knotting toy in advance and they would just be popping to the sex store in order to retrieve it, and that freed up their entire afternoon. Because of his girth, the store had needed to have it custom made, something that had made Killian dance inside with glee because he was sure, at some point, Humbert would want to see it. Even if they didn’t need it, because Killian would be damned if he thought Emma wasn’t getting the real thing, he wouldn’t put it past Humbert to need proof.

All of his worries soon dissipated when his cell phone buzzed in the pocket of his pants. Killian had been lingering outside of the store for far longer than he should have been, one or two of the staff occasionally looking out of the black tinted windows to make sure he wasn’t some creep stalking their customers, and just like the last message, Emma was apologizing for being late. His thumb lingered on the cold surface of his cell phone, her words almost identical to the last message and setting panic in his bones.

His mind raced with scenarios that might make Emma late, from good to the very worst, and he cursed himself for even thinking some of them. He knew she would be arriving by a driven car, so graciously provided by her husband that Killian knew was just a front of generosity so Graham was sure she was out of the way whilst he entertained his mistress. Killian’s heart had long since given up breaking for Emma at the thought though, because he knew she would gladly let the mistress move in if it meant she could see him more often.

Finally, after what seemed like forever holding his breath and tapping his locked phone against his other hand, she came into view. He’d told her to dress for lunch but he had also neglected to remember the social divide between them, her dress far superior to his attire. He’d gone casual, just some chinos and a v-neck t-shirt under a summer blazer, but Emma took his breath away in what she was wearing. It wasn’t the plain, almost sheer magnolia off white top half that had him really rigid, but the bottom half, a short, black, thigh high skirt sitting under a matching rippled cumberbund style belt that hugged her waist and let him see the skin of her thigh. He swallowed hard as she approached, her hips sashaying from side to side with every step away from the car, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as her heels carried her closer.

Her hair was perfect, a fishbone braid across the top of her crown and hanging over one of her shoulders. Killian felt himself grow hot and imagined his hand wrapped around it, pulling her onto his cock over and over, just like a few days ago. Wisps of her perfectly toned blonde hair sprang out into the air but it just reminded him of how gorgeous she was as he watched her sleeping post coitus, his hands itching to flatten them and stroke the shape of her skull lovingly. Last but not least she was wearing a smile, one he had never seen in any photographs before, and one that was assuredly reserved for just him.

“Mr Jones,” she said sweetly, her hand reaching out for him after she tucked her matching cream clutch under her arm.

Killian took her hand with a growl, lifting it to his lips and inhaling her skin before looking up to her with a sultry stare and pressing his lips to her knuckles.

“Emma,” he breathed, her name everything. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you.” Emma smiled sweetly. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Her eyes roamed his body, taking him in from head to toe and back up again, her tongue darting out to taste her lip as her eyes lingered on the bulge in his chinos.

“When you have quite finished,” Killian told her, tugging her fingers and bringing her back to reality. “One quick stop and we can be off to the restaurant for lunch.” Even saying it out loud made him tingle with warmth, like they were going on a real date, in public, with people seeing them side by side, and Killian couldn’t suppress his Alpha urge to let everyone know who Emma would be with at that moment.

“I’m not going to lie, Killian, I know exactly where we are, and there are no restaurants nearby.” Emma’s lips twisted into a coy smirk and she felt him squeeze her fingers. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

Killian couldn’t hide his glee any longer and he let their hands dangle in front of them as he stepped forward to greet her with another kiss to her cheek. The softness of her skin made his knees buckle a little, but he managed to regain a sort of semi-composed state for what he had to tell her.

“This was actually Mr Humbert’s idea,” Killian smirked and when Emma’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead, he raised one too. “Or so he thinks.”

Emma looked perplexed. “Why would Graham let you take me to a sex shop?” She wasn’t even annoyed at the mention of her husband, because the idea of being here, with Killian, was far outweighing any hatred she had for the man who thought he supposedly owned her.

“That’s a story for another time,” Killian told her cryptically. He stepped back, interlocking their fingers and tugged her after him, encouraging her to follow. He bit his bottom lip, looking her up and down between steps, sighing audibly in appreciation of the way she moved after him. “I’m not sure this outfit is appropriate for lunch,” Killian teased, shaking his head. “How am I supposed to keep my eyes on you and one eye on every other man in the place?”

“And why would you need to do that?” Emma feigned modesty and Killian noticed a little more sway in her hips as she walked, drawing, tempting him to a fate he knew would have him killed one day.

Once they were through the doors, and hidden from any prying eyes by the darkness of tinted windows, Killian pulled his hand from hers and let it fall to her hip, his fingers hungrily grabbing at the material of her skirt and bunching it up until it was raised up towards her waist a little more. He stepped into her and Emma gasped when her bare shoulders hit the cold of the window and his knee between her legs stopped her from losing her balance and tumbling to the ground.

“You know why,” Killian growled sultrily, his nose pressed against hers and their lips a hair's breadth apart. She smelled of perfume, floral with undertones of her natural scent that had Killian rolling his eyes in his head and his jaw clenching tighter than he thought possible. It seemed a few days had been too long without her near him, and his hands skimmed the shape of her arse hungrily.

“How can you be so sure other men find me as desirable as you do?” Emma’s words were strangled in her throat that had gone bone dry from the way Killian’s thigh was rubbing against her clit through her panties.

Killian chuckled darkly, his tongue licking over her lips as he moistened his own in response to her fingers gripping his bicep through the material of his blazer. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” Killian taunted playfully with a shake of his head. “When are you going to realise how precious you are?”

Emma’s hand snaked up behind his head and held it in place as she moved hers to the side, the softness of her lips brushing against the shell of his ear as she whispered, “When are you going to show me?” Her fingers clawed over the back of his neck, raking through the hair there ever so gently that it had all of Killian’s nerve endings firing at once. “Again,” she added, her voice lowered and full of fire as she slipped out from underneath him and made her way into the main part of the shop.

Killian grunted in frustration, spinning his entire body off the window pane and following after her like a man on an invisible tether. She was something, he had to admit that, especially when, by watching the shape of her behind in her too short skirt, he had failed to realise that she was heading towards the lingerie section. He looked up just in time to see her holding the barest slip of material up to her body before looking back at him through her lashes and quirking a brow.

“How do you think this would look on me?” She asked innocently, tucking the material under her breasts and accenting them as she pushed them up.

“Not as good as it would look on the floor,” Killian whispered as he reached her and inspected the garment. It was made of lace as red as blood, with two cut outs on either side that would definitely show the contrast of her milky skin down to her hips where the built in lace underwear sat. The bra part was padded, hiding away her best parts behind another layer of matching lace and Killian made a mental note to make sure that never happened. His thoughts were soon interrupted when he noticed, with a glint in her eye, Emma was indicating to the slit like opening on the panties with a wiggling finger and a coy smirk.

“You sure that’s where you want it to be?” Emma teased, biting her tongue and feeling the material of the bra as if she were Killian kneading her breasts.

Killian whimpered and toyed with the little red bows that stuck to each hip of the garment, the material pure silk between his fingers. All he could do was shake his head, an Alpha pathetically reduced to just actions by a woman, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. He peeled the lingerie from her grip and Emma almost squealed with glee, her face erupting into an excited smile that made the skin behind his ears burn hot with pleasure. “I need to pay for this and retrieve something, then we shall go to lunch.” He took a step back, the air just two feet from Emma much easier to breathe in, but he immediately missed the heavy weight pressing down on his lungs.

“Perfect,” Emma beamed at him. She had that glint in her eye again and Killian’s jaw nearly hit the floor when she lifted her hand to her face and gave the tip of her thumb a salacious lick, the mystery behind the green of her eyes darkened by her lust once more. “I’m starving.”

Killian couldn’t help the way he was smiling, despite Emma telling him more than once to stop. They sat opposite each other in an almost rooftop restaurant and Killian had made sure they were seated next to the window so that they could both enjoy the view, not that he had seen much more than Emma right in front of him. Emma as she was. Emma in the new lingerie he had just bought her. Emma like she had been when she took his knot. God only knew how his brain managed to fathom much else at this point.

They had, somehow, managed to order some food, even if they were both anxious for what was to come afterward. Humbert had pretty much given him the green light to take Emma back to her apartment, so Killian wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity when it presented itself. When he thought about it, finding loopholes in Humbert’s contract really was about as much fun as he had imagined, especially when so much was at stake.

“Thank you,” Emma said softly, shaking him out of his daydream by placing her hand over his. Killian looked down to where Emma’s fingers were tangling with his, the edge of their palms resting against the pristinely white table cloth, and gave her a sideways cock of his head.

“For what, love?” he asked sweetly, rubbing her thumb with his.

“For this,” Emma said with a nod, motioning around the slowly filling restaurant with a wave of her free hand. “For showing me that I’m not just arm candy for a businessman.”

Killian sucked in a breath and released a laugh at the same time. “Emma, you are so much more than that. What will it take for you to realise that?”

Emma blushed and diverted her eyes back down to focus on the hypnotic way Killian’s thumb was still etching the feel of his skin onto hers. Her smile faded and Killian was sure he saw a little bit of a tear in her eye, frowning and giving her hand a gentle tug until she looked back at him.

“Look,” he began, licking his lips. “I know this isn’t ideal, what we’re doing, but for what it’s worth, I’m having the time of my life.” Killian smiled at her warmly and she mirrored the shape of his lips with her own. “What happens when your husband is sick of his mistress is my only uncertainty.”

“You think he let this happen because he has a mistress?” Emma scoffed a laugh, looking away from him sadly. “Please, Killian, there have been other women and you’ve met the man. He’d do anything to avoid a divorce.” The sadness that laced her words pained him right to his soul and Killian felt his fingers tighten around hers when she turned her head to stare blankly out of the window. “The only reason you and I ever met is because he was trying to keep me quiet and retain his Humbert bravado. He can take this all away from me as quickly as it began.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Killian said defiantly.

“He’s done it before,” Emma almost sobbed, her voice weak and small in the back of her throat at the memory of how many times Graham had promised her so much only to rip it all away to keep her in line. She never wanted to imagine how it would feel to have Graham take Killian away from her now that she had known him.

“Aye, maybe, but you’ve never had me fighting for you before, have you, darling?”

At his words, Emma looked back to him and welcomed the way his confidence in her was written all over his face, from the curve of his lips as he smiled to the sparkle in the blue of his eyes. Emma had never known any Alpha other than the Humbert men, and certainly hadn’t known one to give the likes of her the time of day. But Killian was different, affectionate and passionate, and she knew that no matter what, she would be making the most of him tonight.

“You are a man of many firsts, Mr Jones,” Emma smirked. She pulled her hand from his and moved to lean forward, her head resting on her hand as the point of her elbow sat precariously on the edge of the table. She trailed one of her fingers over her lips, giving them a little tap.

“I’m also wonderfully committed to seconds,” Killian grinned. “And thirds, and fourths.” He winked, letting the corner of his lips pull up into a sideways smirk, one eyebrow jumping up higher on his brow.

“And is that what you want?” Emma teased, rolling her shoulders back so that Killian had no choice but to divert his eyes down to the sway of her breasts underneath the sheer, cream fabric of her dress. “To knot me again?” Emma blinked, looking up at him through her lashes. “And again?”

Killian didn’t mean to laugh but he hoped it helped that the tips of his ears turned a rather attractive rosy colour as he pawed at the patch of skin behind them, his tongue darting out at the memory of her taste on his lips.

“Like I need to breathe, love,” Killian said finally, rolling his bottom lip under his teeth and letting an appreciative hum escape his mouth at the memory of the feeling of her body around his knot. “I’ll beg if I have to,” he admitted with a nod.

“Would you want it now?” Emma’s eyes lit up with glee and she couldn’t hide the excited grin on her face. “With all these people around?”

“Aye,” Killian said, his words even and his voice a little huskier than it was before. He leaned forward and Emma could have sworn he was staring directly into her soul. “I’d fuck you over this table until you begged me to knot you because you couldn’t take not having it any longer.”

His words, despite what she had asked for, made Emma’s entire body prickle with heat. Every muscle was remembering the feel of his hands on her skin, the feel of his cock inside of her and recalling the way it felt to have such a rock hard, welcome intrusion like his knot. She pressed her thighs together at the thought, her core clenching with need and a little bit of hot, wet, discharge leaking out of her. She wasn’t sure if Killian could smell her, but his eyes definitely darkened around the edge of his hues and he drew his fingers into a clenched fist as he stared her down.

“I’m sorry,” Emma blushed, swallowing hard. “Would you excuse me? I just need to use the ladies room before our food arrives.”

Killian shook his head slightly, and pushed himself to his feet. It was probably the most gentlemanly thing Emma had ever seen and had been sure, when Graham failed to do it, it was the stuff of myths and legends that women only read about in books. The heat across her cheeks was more vibrant now, and there was no way Killian didn’t know what his words had done to her, or why she was heading to the bathroom at all.

“Of course,” he said cordially but grabbed her arm as she moved past him, leaning in and almost licking the shell of her ear with his words. “Hurry back,” he whispered, his words dripping into her ear like a hot wax that sent a shiver down her spine, before he stepped away and left her wanting even more than before.

Emma barely made it to the bathroom, her legs shaking and her skin on fire with a burning itch that only Killian could sate. She ran through the door, politely apologising to a woman she bumped into on the way, and flattened herself against the cool tiled wall. She let out a breath, long and uneven, her lips quivering slightly as she gulped down air, trying to quell her arousal. Emma had never felt so alive, her whole body aching as she pinned her weight against the wall, fingers clawing at the grout and her knees threatening to buckle at any second.

“Fuck,” she panted, pinching her eyes closed. How did Killian have the ability to make her feel this way with just his words and a sideways sultry glance? Emma was sure it was black magic. Or witchcraft. Or more simply, it was her pure, unadulterated need, two compatible people fitting together like puzzle pieces, her body crying out for him every time they met. Whatever it was, she was pretty sure that she would never make it back to her apartment without some sort of cooling relief for the sizzling heat that was eating her up from the inside out.

Emma bolted for the nearest stall, slamming the door closed behind her and sliding the lock into place. Not even the toilet seat lid offered her relief as she sat down on the cold plastic, and she slumped back against the cistern with a grumble. She pinched her eyes closed but all she could see was Killian, his eyes darkened to a lustful grey and his lips curved into that toying smirk he always did before he fully ravaged her. She loved it, and needed it - him - but all she had right now was her hand and her imagination, so with a hurried pant, Emma bunched up the material of her skirt, opened her legs and slipped her hand between her thighs.

The material of her underwear was already wet, the damp patch just below her clit cool on her skin. Her fingers toyed over it, sliding back and forth, teasing her body with the idea that she might slip lower. The friction was minimal but just enough, her nipples hardening in her bra and the material rubbing against them, causing her even more frustration. She let out a groan that was a little too loud, the sound of her voice reverberating off the bathroom walls.

She only stopped for a second to make sure no one had heard her, instantly missing the way her hand felt on the outside of her panties. She skimmed her fingers over the fabric again, sighing when she pushed through her folds and found her clit, circling the nub and feeling her entire body relax as she sucked in a breath through her teeth. Even just thinking about Killian had her body reacting like this, essence practically dripping from her core as she strummed out a beat over her clit.

She had to make it quick or Killian would grow suspicious, and Emma wouldn't put it past him to come looking for her. What if he did? Suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad idea to take her time, but Emma wasn't that patient, parting her legs even wider and settling the material of her underwear over herself where it contoured the shape of her clit and, with every flick, had white light erupting behind her eyelids.

Emma canted her hips to meet the rub of her hand, her body shaking as her clit grew harder and more sensitive with every sweep. Her thighs quivered and she needed to place her free hand on the stall wall for balance, her inevitable orgasm creeping up on her and leaving her whimpering Killian's name. The room was spinning, even behind her eyelids, and the warmth of the heated bathroom was beginning to affect her, a sheen of sweat condensing across her skin.

She’d never done this before, masturbated in a public place, and it was the most exciting thing she had ever done. Her entire body tingled, her hand shaking, her brain telling her to stop the assault on her clit that was pulsing and throbbing, but her body crying out for more. Her breathing was uneven and the skin under her braid tightened against her head, pulling all of her hair and reminding her of how Killian had grabbed it a few days ago. It was enough, the memory of Killian and what he could do to her making her legs and back stiffen as she came, her hand furiously rubbing at her clit through the material of her underwear and extending her pleasure through painfully gritted teeth.

It wasn’t enough, Emma could tell that the second her orgasm rippled away as quickly as it had arrived, but it was enough to keep her sated for now. Or so she hoped. Now her only problem was her soaking wet panties. Emma looked down between her legs, holding the ruffles of her black skirt aside as she inspected the dark grey patch that had appeared there, her clit still pulsing with aftershocks as she tugged the material from her skin. There was no way Killian wouldn’t know about this, because even she could smell herself in the confines of the cubicle.

He had done this to her. It was still beyond her exactly how, but Killian had this effect on her like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was like her body was his obedient puppy, eager to please him, willing to do anything for a little attention and it had never felt so right to let it. Emma’s lips turned up into a wry grin as she stood back on wobbly legs, shimmied her wet panties to the floor and then picked them up, straightening the creases in her skirt whilst balling the damp material in her fist. Horny didn’t even begin to describe how she felt, the thrill of masterbating in the bathroom of a restaurant combined with the knowledge Killian was hers all afternoon still coursing through every fibre of her being.

They had to skip lunch and Emma knew exactly how to do that.

When she reappeared, Killian was absentmindedly staring out of the window across the expanse of the city, but the slight rise of his elfen ear gave away his smile. He didn’t turn around when she approached, but he knew she was there, heels gently tapping the polished floor, their echoes eaten up by the sounds of the other diners. His hand rested on the tablecloth, fingers stretched outwards as if covering hers that had left the spot a few minutes ago.

“Sorry about that,” Emma chirped as she neared him. She reached the table, her hip brushing his shoulder as she passed, and in one swift motion that even left her surprised by her own audacity, Emma dropped her sodden lace panties to the table right next to his hand. “I needed to take care of something.”

Killian’s head snapped towards the garment beside his hand, his fingers lifting off the tablecloth that had suddenly become like hot embers under the tips. Similarly, his ears were burning with the tell tale tint of a blush that was soon replaced with the ferocity of his inner animal as he plucked the lace from the table and was immediately hit with her scent. It was the perfect combination of the sweetness of peaches and the exoticness of star anise, and he would gladly risk the toxicity of the latter if it meant he could feast on her for hours.

“You couldn’t wait until after lunch?” Killian smirked, tucking the panties under the table and out of sight of the other diners. He scrunched the material in his hand and rather than tuck it into his pocket, he unzipped his fly and tucked it into the crotch of his chinos and through the peephole of his boxers. Even the mere feeling of her clearly self-fuck soaked underwear against his cock had him hard in seconds and he had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing when she had dropped them at his proverbial feet.

“I’m not hungry,” Emma lied coyly, leaning forward in her seat until her bare clit met the cold, harsh surface of her chair and her eyes fluttered closed.

“Oh, you’re hungry, love,” Killian teased, opening his legs a little wider so that his length wasn’t so painfully restricted in his pants. “Just not for what’s on the menu in this place.” He quirked his brow at her and Emma smirked back at him, rolling her bottom lip under her teeth and letting out a groan as she rocked forward again.

“And you are?” Emma teased back, twirling the tail of her braid around her hand and giving it a little tug, mimicking the way his primal urges had turned her on so much a few days before.

She couldn’t help the way he was playing her like a finely tuned piano, despite being in a public place, as if something was calling to her, telling her to jump and trust that Killian would catch her. Without a second thought she knew she would. She would leap from whatever height if it meant falling into his arms, especially now, and if the way he was looking at her like a ravenous animal was anything to go by, she would gladly let him devour her too.

“Pay,” Emma demanded quickly, hurrying to grab her clutch beside her.

“W-What?” Killian stammered, shocked by her sudden urgency to leave.

Emma pushed herself to her feet and Killian stumbled to follow her, the hard-on in his pants restricting his ability to stand upright. He stepped out from behind the table and she flattened herself to his body, not a sliver of light able to pass between them. She groaned in her throat, the feel of his hardness against her setting off another flow of slickness to escape her core, only this time there was no fabric to stop it and it began its descent down her inner thigh. Emma’s hand snaked up behind Killian’s head and she clutched the hair there in frustration, her only outlet in a room full of people.

“Pay now,” she ordered again, her breath hot against his neck where she couldn’t help but taste his skin there with a lap of her tongue. “And I’ll suck you off in the car.”

They had only just made it out of the car park when Emma had dove across the gap between them and was fumbling with the zipper of Killian’s chinos. He hissed as she snaked her hand into the opening, deft fingers stroking over the outside of his boxer shorts and hardening him even more than the anticipation was. Killian's knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the wheel and Emma tore into his underwear like a thing possessed once she realised how hard her prize was.

Emma had never blown an Alpha before and once his cock sprang out into the artificially heated air in the car, her eyes went wide with glee. Alphas certainly put most men to shame, and she licked her lips at the sight of him standing proudly for her attention before grasping him as firmly as she could close to the base of his cock and shivering from the filthy sound he made in response.

“Eyes on the road, Jones,” Emma said huskily, running her tongue over the point of her canine. She felt like a wolf, hungry for the meat Killian was dangling in front of her, the blood pounding in her ears as she used her other hand to grip the girth of him just under his tip.

Killian felt his hips shift forward in his seat, an involuntary spasm, the only reaction his body knew to her touch. He wanted her to stroke him, needed her to massage his length. What she had promised back at the restaurant was so close his balls ached. Her breath ghosted over his cock, the tip of her tongue flicking out to taste him as she held him, hot and hard and perpetually suspended in the promise of what was to come. He had to blink thrice as hard to focus his eyes on the road knowing that once her mouth encased his cock, it would be almost impossible to drive in a straight line.

“Emma, maybe we should wait until-,” Killian began, his heart hammering in his chest and the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.

“Shut up,” Emma snapped and Killian tore his eyes off the road to look at her beside him.

She was on her knees, crouched below the height of the window and hunched between the seats, her elbows resting on the only part of the seat visible beside his thigh. It twitched as his muscles contracted, his entire body as stiff as his cock was in Emma’s hands, her hands burning into his skin far hotter than his own body temperature. Emma was wet, he could smell her in the confined space of the car and it made him heady, his palms a little sweaty against the smooth surface of the wheel.

Killian had no idea what had gotten into Emma but he was not about to complain. Very few people had the bravery to tell an Alpha to shut up, and under normal circumstances the hormones raging through Killian’s body would have had him seeing red in no time, but the tone in Emma’s voice, insistent and desperate, had him hardening in her grip. She was ravenous and did something to him that he couldn’t explain. His body cried out for her, especially now he knew what it felt like to knot her, and one of his hands slipped off the wheel and smoothed over her back in gentle encouragement. Very little time passed between Killian touching her and Emma finally wrapping her lips around his length and all he could do was gasp in final, hot, wet relief and force his eyes to stay open whilst he drove through a foggy, sex hazed vision.

“Oh,” Killian gasped on an inward breath, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping the wheel. “Bloody, Jesus, fuck,” he grunted when he felt Emma smirk against his length, her tongue lavishing over a particularly prominent vein that had swollen in her mouth as her hands went to work on the base of his shaft. With a hum, Emma let her hand drift into the opening of his fly, aching to have more of him in her grasp, her fingertips barely touching the bulb of his knot that was wrapped up in her come soaked panties.

Emma lifted her head, releasing him with a pop and hungrily licking her lips as she salivated over the taste of him in her mouth. Her hands went to work where her mouth had been, shifting up and down his cock and making Killian growl in frustration.

“So that’s where you put them,” Emma grinned triumphantly.

She hadn’t expected to find her underwear in his pants but it gave her a huge sense of gratification to find them there. She had never felt so powerful, so insanely and irrevocably turned on before. Her life had given her few chances to be the aggressor during sex, but Emma was a woman who knew what she wanted, if nothing else. Killian Jones was what she wanted, and she didn’t even wait for his reply before sealing her lips around his cock and stealing his breath once more.

Emma’s head bobbed up and down, spit dribbling out of her mouth and over her knuckles as she went down and her tongue slurping over his skin as she eased back up. Killian tried as hard as he could to focus on the road ahead of him, but thankfully the traffic was minimal, encouraging him to speed and run at least two red lights on their way to Emma’s apartment where he skidded to a stop in her parking spot. He had an overwhelming need to come, to fuck Emma’s mouth until his knot popped out of his body and he’d encourage her to extend his pleasure by sucking him some more. The mere thought had his fingertips digging into the curve of her behind, the only intimate part of her he could reach from his position.

But reality held him back. There was no way he wouldn’t draw attention by getting out of a car in broad daylight with an erection so massive, and as if Emma could read his mind, she doubled her efforts. Her movements sped up and Killian could feel his tip bumping the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around him and pulling him in even deeper. At one point, Emma gagged a little and Killian wasn’t sure how much longer he would last under her assault. She hummed in appreciation, a soft whimper of pleasure slipping from her mouth between breaths as her fingers toyed with the smooth skin of Killian’s balls and caused another involuntary buck of his hips.

“You’re so close,” she purred, letting him slip from her mouth and not giving him a second before licking him from a straining knot bulb to tip. “Let go, Killian. Let me take care of you.”

“Oh, fuck, Emma,” he whimpered, legs shaking as he felt the unmistakeable thrum of his climax. “Suck it,” he growled and encouraged her to take him in her mouth once more with a gentle touch to the back of her head. His fingers toyed with her braid and his inner animal couldn’t be contained anymore. “I’m going to come so hard for you. Fill up the back of your throat like you need.”

An audible whine vibrated from Emma’s throat, a plea for what only Killian could give her. She arched her back, desperate for his touch where she needed him the most, her body language so incredibly wanton that Killian had no hope in holding off his orgasm. What he hadn’t expected was her skill, the way she swallowed him down like she had been made specifically for him, her throat relaxing around him as she crammed his entire cock into her mouth. Her tongue laved around his knot bulb, a soft wetness that, before he had time to stop it, had his knot popping from his body and his euphoria washing over him.

The world began to spin and Killian’s leg spasmed, his foot pushing so hard against the floor that he thought he might punch a hole right through the bottom of his car. He was coming, and he was coming harder than he had ever come from oral before. An Alpha’s place was to make his partner happy and so he had rarely been on the receiving end of a blow job, and they had never felt as good as the one Emma was giving him. It left him shaking and he held her face to his crotch, one hand around her jaw and her braid twisted around the other. When Emma gagged on his come, he tried to free her airway by pulling out, but Emma wouldn’t let him go, greedily swallowing every last drop of his load with a satisfying gulp.

“Wow,” Killian gasped, scrubbing his hands over his face in disbelief of his bodily reaction to Emma’s talents. “I...you...wow,” he giggled, ignoring the discomfort of his exposed knot and the hotness in his groin.

“You popped your knot,” Emma smirked gleefully, stroking her fingers over his still hard length and enjoying the way he twitched from her touch.

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” Killian laughed. “You were just...” he began but Emma’s proud grin stole his thought. “Just wow.”

“You need to work on your compliments,” Emma nodded with a raised eyebrow.

“Aye, love,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I have plenty of time to think that over whilst I wait for my knot to recede.” He blushed a little and Emma watched as he adorably scratched the patch of skin behind his ear.

“I’m sorry,” Emma offered sympathetically. She took his hand in hers, giving his fingers a little squeeze to emphasize her apology.

“Don’t be, love,” Killian assured her, interlocking their fingers. “It’s only uncomfortable for an hour or so,” he teased, lifting their hands and pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

“Plenty of time then,” Emma smirked playfully.

“For what, love?” Killian asked her with a narrowed stare.

She leaned in close, gripping his hand tighter and holding it to her bosom. “For us to talk about later,” she whispered in his ear, her words making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “When we see just how good that outfit looks on the bedroom floor.”

#A/B/O #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o fic #alpha!killian #emma swan #cs fic #cs au #omegaverse #graham humbert #will scarlet #liam jones #the contract #ch 5

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cinaja · 4 years

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Before the Wall part 20

Masterlist

Summary: Five hundred years before Feyre Archeron is born, the world is much different from the one she lives in. Humans are slaves, seen as little more than animals by the Fae who rule. But things are beginning to change. Talks of rebellion is spreading and on the Continent, some Fae territories begin to consider the potential gain of War. All it takes is one spark and everything will explode.

----

The Autumn Court is beautiful, but its beauty is a strange one. The forest is full of colours, so vivid that Miryam barely knows where to look, yet the entire land seems laced with a scent of decay.

Absentmindedly, Miryam tugs at the sleeves of her dress, wishing she had brought something warmer. The Autumn Court is not cold by any means, but Miryam was born in a desert country. Next to her, Helion waves a hand and she is immediately warm.

“You okay?”, he whispers. Miryam nods, but he still gives her a questioning glance. “You seem worried.”

Well, what can I say? My lover is just meeting with one of Hybern`s deadliest generals and trying to seduce her. So yes, I may be slightly worried.

Before she can think of an excuse, though, the guards pull open the huge doors to High Lord Beron`s Forest House and she is able to step inside, Helion half a step behind her.

The wealth that greets her inside would be enough to make most people stop and gawk. Golden chandeliers, silk carpets on the walls, doors made of pure gold. Miryam only gives her surroundings half a glance before she continues walking. She does her best to ignore the guards trailing them, staring at her. All of them are High Fae, there is not a single faerie in sight. Mor`s warnings are ringing in her ears and make her senses go on high alert.

The walk to the throne room seems endless. Helion links his arm through hers and leans in to whisper into her ear, “A joyful place, right?”

Miryam smiles and nods. “Have you been here before?”, she asks.

“Once or twice.” Helion is grinning, but there is a tension in his face. Strange. Miryam doesn`t know of any tension between him and the Autumn Court, but she isn`t stupid enough to ask here, where the guards are sure to report their words back to Beron.

Finally, they reach the throne room. Two guards open the door for them and Miryam walks in, head held high.

High Lord Beron is sitting on a throne made of antlers at the end of the long throne room. His red hair looks like living flame, the red aura of his magic is glowing brightly around him. There is a cruel cast to his mouth, though, that has Miryam become even more cautious.

Miryam steps forward and inclines her head. “My Lord. Thank you for inviting us.”

Beron doesn`t reply. He just watches her. Sneers. Miryam holds his gaze.

“Look at that”, he finally drawls, “Is the Alliance running short of proper politicians, or is there another reason they are sending a child to represent them?”

“My Lord, I am-“, Miryam begins, but he cuts her off with a wave.

“I know who you are, girl. Don`t take me for stupid.”

She bristles. “If you know my name, then perhaps you should use it.”

“Careful”, Beron hisses, “I am a High Lord – I do not allow half-breed filth to talk down to me.”

Helion takes a step forward, but Miryam holds out a hand to stop him. She says, “And I am the emissary to the human-faerie Alliance. You`ll find that I do not take kindly to being insulted, either.”

Beron studies her for a few seconds. “A witch alright”, he says with a smile that sends a shiver running down Miryam`s spine. “We shall discuss business later. But first, allow me to show you the pleasures my court has to offer.”

He claps his hand and a band starts playing. Courtiers begin milling around. Beron turns to one of them without sparing Miryam another glance.

Helion laughs and links his arm through Miryam`s to lead her away. “Could have been worse. Do you want me to stay with you, or-“

“Go enjoy yourself”, Miryam says. She remembers Mor`s warning, but she doesn`t want to look weak in front of these people and hiding behind her Fae companion will certainly be seen as a sign of weakness.

Helion winks at her and vanishes amongst the assembled Fae. Miryam spends the next few minutes in tense conversations with courtiers who either look at her like she is a piece of dirt staining their pretty palace, or a particularly pleasant meal. Typical High Fae arrogance.

Finally, Miryam has had enough and pushes her way through the crowd to a quiet corner. From there, she has a good overview of the throne room. She spots Helion almost immediately. He is talking to a pretty Autumn Court female with red hair. Or rather flirting with her. He keeps casually touching her arm and smiling with enough heat to make the female blush. Only after a moment does Miryam recognize her as the Lady of Autumn. Indeed, Beron is watching the pair as well, his lips pressed together into a thin line. What in the Mother`s name is Helion thinking?

Miryam is about to go over and do her best to prevent a disaster when she gets the weird feeling of being watched. She looks around the room until her gaze settles on a young Autumn Court male whose aura marks him as the Heir of Autumn. Eris. When he notices Miryam`s attention, he smiles slightly and dips his chin. She frowns in return and he begins making his way through the crowd towards her.

Once he is standing in front of her, he bows to the waist. “May I have this dance, my Lady?”

“I`m sorry, but I do not dance.” At least not with you, you pig. It is a struggle to keep the disgust out of her voice. She tries not to think of Mor, or the part this male played in her suffering.

Eris smiles. “Make an exception. You won`t regret it.”

“The lady said she doesn`t dance.” Suddenly, Helion is standing next to her again. “You heard her.”

Eris smirks. “A pity”, he says and stalks off.

Miryam turns to Helion. “Thank you”, she says, “But I-“

“You could have handled yourself. I know.” He grins. “I would have expected nothing else of Miryam Godsblessed.”

“Oh, don`t call me that.” Bad enough that the soldiers keep whispering that name behind her back. Miryam sighs. “Well, I`m still glad you`re here.” She nudges him in the side. “How is flirting with our host`s wife in front of his entire court helping this diplomatic meeting?”

Helion gives her one of his dazzling smiles. “Oh, it is absolutely vital.”

Miryam arches an eyebrow. She doesn`t buy that swaggering bullshit for one second. Something is bothering Helion, she can tell. But before she can find a subtle way to ask, Lord Beron`s voice rings out over the crowd.

“Helion!”

They both turn to face the throne. The High Lord is holding out a letter.

“Your uncle is asking for your presence in Day. There appears to be an emergency.”

Helion frowns. He barely skims the letter Beron hands him, then turns to Miryam. “He says it`s important.”

“Go. Just don`t forget to pick me up later – if I get stuck in Prythian because of you, I`ll be pissed.”

“Thank you”, Helion says and rushes out of the room.

Miryam returns to her corner. It doesn`t take long, though, for trouble to find her. Eris Vanserra stops in front of her, an expectant expression on his face.

“What is it?”, Miryam asks.

“You still owe me a dance”, the male says, smirking.

“I told you: I don`t dance.”

“I don`t believe you. Why won`t you dance with me?”

Miryam hesitates, then says, “I`m friends with Morrigan.”

She wonders if she imagines Eris flinching. A second later, his arrogance is back. “A pity”, he drawls, “I thought you had class.” Miryam bristles, but he just laughs. “Come on, now, I`m your host`s son. Refusing to dance with me might be considered a slight.”

The worst part is, he is right. There`s no polite way for her to refuse. So Miryam grits her teeth, takes the hand he offers her and lets him lead her to the dance floor.

She almost immediately regrets it. Being this close to Eris, having him tough her, makes her skin prickle. His hands are on her waist, pulling her closer. Miryam`s first instinct is to push him away, but she can`t do that – it would be a political nightmare.

“Not so bad, is it?”, Eris drawls.

Then, he leans in closer until she can feel his breath on her neck. Miryam doesn`t think she`s breathing. She wonders how her feet are still moving when she is all but frozen with fear. Too close, too close, too close.

“Now, you listen to me”, Eris whispers into her ear, his voice so soft she can barely understand him, “And if you want to survive this night, I`d suggest you do exactly as I say. This is a trap.”

----

Jurian awkwardly sits down on a rock next to Clythia, but he makes sure that there is still lots of empty space between them. This female is a general in Hybern`s army. She slaughtered countless humans – his people – without mercy. If his spy`s reports are anything to go by, her sister and her delight in torturing humans before ending them. Yet, he is sitting next to her like nothing is wrong. His every instinct is roaring at him to draw his sword and just kill her.

“I know you`re hesitant”, Clythia says, breaking the silence.

“Not so much hesitant as confused.” And repulsed. “I got the impression that you don`t hold humans in the highest regard.”

Clythia waves a hand as if dismissing the comment. “You`re different. Not at all like the other mortals. They are worms, but you…”

It doesn`t seem to occur to her at all that Jurian might mind her insulting his people. That he might not want to be considered an exception or spend so much as a second in the presence of a female who considers his kind to be less than animals.

“What about me?”, he asks, hoping that his tone doesn`t show his anger.

“You belong with me.” At least she doesn`t say belong to me, but Jurian isn`t sure if she sees a difference. “I`ve seen it – seen it long before I ever heard your name. We will be together.”

She says it with such certainty that Jurian shivers slightly. If she`s a seer and she`s seen them being together… No, she has to be wrong. Or maybe she`s lying. This can`t be his future.

He pulls himself together. He`s a soldier, for Cauldron`s sake. This is just another mission. He shouldn`t let it get to him.

“Well”, he says, “what an interesting future. You may have heard, though, that I am in a relationship. Happily.”

Again, that dismissive hand wave. “Inconsequential.” Clythia smiles. “I`ve been a seer for three centuries now and believe me: The future does not lie.”

Jurian briefly considers her words. She is sure of herself. Obviously believes that she has won already. Jurian knows opponents like that. They are usually arrogant and don`t look past the first impression. Easy enough to trick. Even better, she doesn`t seem to consider that Jurian might be seriously opposed to the idea of this relationship.

As if to prove him right, Clythia puts her hand on his leg.

Jurian makes himself give her his best lazy smile. “Why don`t you show me what that future`s going to be like, then?”

----

“That`s not possible”, Miryam whispers. She keeps dancing, keeps her face neutral, even as her mind begins to race. “I`m a guest in his house – he wouldn`t dare harm me.” Not even Ravenia, for all her cruelty, ever broke that rule.

“Continental rules”, Eris replies, “They don`t hold as much sway here. And he doesn`t need to harm you himself – he can just stand by as others do.”

“Why?”

She can feel Eris sigh. “Is that really the pressing thing to discuss? We only have minutes!”

But Miryam still hesitates. She doesn`t trust Eris. He might well be lying and if she acts on his words only to find out that he was tricking her, it will be her who jeopardizes this alliance. If she acts and turns out to be wrong, it will be the biggest mistake she ever made as an emissary – it might cost her any standing she has within the Alliance.

“Why?”, she repeats.

Eris groans. He twirls her around, then pulls her close again. “The Loyalists offer quite generous terms – far better than anything the Alliance could give us. Your head is the asking price. I assume you know why.”

“What`s the plan?” Miryam has to keep from glancing around in the room to look for anything that seems out of place.

“That letter to Helion was forged – they wanted to get him out of the way. A group of soldiers will arrive to take you away in… five minutes.”

Miryam curses. If he`s saying the truth, she is really and truly in trouble. “What do I do?”, she breathes.

“On my note”, Eris says, “you will shove me away. Make a scene. Then, you storm out of the room. You need to go down two flights of stairs. There is a carpet with a huge deer on it. Behind it, you find a hidden room. Wait for me there.”

Miryam nods. They keep twirling around each other. Then, Eris pulls her close again.

“Now”, he whispers.

Miryam doesn`t hesitate. She shoves him away from her as hard as she can – which, given that he`s Fae and she`s not, barely makes him stumble. Around them, people stop dancing to stare at them. Miryam darts forward and slaps Eris. (She can`t quite contain a feeling of satisfaction at the surprise on his face.)

“You bastard”, she hisses, “How dare you touch me?”

She turns around to glower at the Fae who are snickering around them, then turns to Beron who is watching her from his throne.

“I need some fresh air”, she snaps.

Without waiting for a reply, she stalks out of the room. The guards at the doors do not stop her.

Instead of trying to go to the meeting place, Miryam lingers by the door. She paces like she is simply a female annoyed at some male`s behaviour during the party, but keeps shooting glances through the doors. She can`t leave – not without being absolutely sure that this is indeed a trap. It might be reckless, but anything else would be political suicide.

She doesn`t have to wait for long. Only a few minutes pass before a group of people appear in the middle of the throne room. All of them are armed and bearing the Black Land colours. Miryam stumbles back a step as she recognizes the male at the front.

Artax.

For a second, Miryam is frozen with old fear. Then, her instincts kick in. She spins around and runs. Thank the Cauldron, none of the guards reach out to stop her. Miryam dashes down the stairs. She already took the first flight when she realizes that she is going to lead Artax straight to the meeting place and if Eris isn`t waiting, she will be done for.

So instead, she turns to the right on the first landing and sprints down the corridor. She hears steps following behind her, almost lazily. She has nowhere to run and they know it. Artax probably enjoys the chase. She needs to buy herself some time, but how is she supposed to do that against the head of the Witcher`s Guild?

Miryam dashes around the next corner. The guards follow her with their eyes, but don`t move. Apparently, Beron`s twisted view of guest`s right means that his guards won`t touch her.

The next corridor is empty. Then, out of nowhere, a female steps into her way. She is dressed in servants` colours and marked as a faerie by the antlers poking out of her brown hair. It is too late for Miryam to jump aside – she crashes straight into the female. They both go crashing to the ground.

“Sorry”, Miryam gasps.

She pushes back to her feet, but then, she pauses. The female had to have come from somewhere. Indeed, there is a small door in the wall, almost invisible. The servant`s corridors, of course – those existed in the Black Land as well. Steps are approaching from behind. Miryam pushes the door open and slips through. She pulls it shut behind her the moment Artax rounds the corner.

The corridors much smaller and darker than the huge hallways of the palace. Miryam keeps running. At each crossroad, she takes a different turn. Soon, she is completely lost, but she can still hear steps following her. She looks back over her shoulder to see if Artax is already in sight, and –

Suddenly, the ground is gone from under her feet. Miryam barely has time to yelp before she is falling.

She lands in something soft. Clothes, Miryam realizes. She is lying in a pile of clothes. High above her, there is a hole in the ceiling – likely used by servants to dump the laundry into. Miryam quickly rolls to the side and presses herself against the wall.

It doesn`t take long for Artax` face to appear in the hole. Miryam doesn`t dare breath as he looks down onto the pile of clothes. After what seems like an eternity, he continues on the corridor. Miryam sags with relief.

Even though she got rid of her pursuers, it takes Miryam almost an hour to get to her meeting place with Eris. The Forest House is a maze and Miryam has to avoid anyone who might see her. She has just begun to believe that she`ll never find the hidden room when she rounds a corner and comes face to face with the carpet.

She pushes past it and into the room beyond. The carpet falls back into its place and a flame flickers to life – right in front of her face. It illuminates Eris`, who pushes off the wall he was leaning against.

“Finally”, he hisses, “I thought you had been caught.”

Miryam is shaking, but manages to glare at him. “Just take me out of here, please.”

“Not so fast”, Eris says and takes a step back. “First, I`d like to discuss my conditions.”

“Your what?”

“Well, I´m risking quite a lot by saving you. It would only be fair if you were to repay me.”

Miryam glances towards the door. She is sure Artax is still searching for her, and if he finds her here… “What do you want?”

“A favour”, he replies, “to be decided later.”

“No.” How stupid does he think she is? “You could ask anything. I won`t do it.”

“It will be within reason. And I don`t see how you have much of a choice. You can stay here, of course, but you`ll find that you`ll have a hard time winning this war if you`re dead.”

Miryam hesitates. Damn that male, he is right. “Nothing that harms the war effort”, she says.

“Alright.”

“And I won`t sleep with you.”

Eris snorts. “I honestly don`t know where you get the idea that I´d have an interest.” He holds out a hand. “Do we have a deal?”

There are steps approaching outside. It might just be guards – or it could be Artax.

“Yes”, she says and takes his hand. As soon as their fingers touch, he winnows them away.

They land in a forest that looks as old as this land. Miryam is shivering in her too-light dress. She doesn`t know where she thought Eris would take her, but she certainly didn`t expect this.

“Where are we?”

“The Middle. I´ll send word to Helion that he can pick you up here.”

Miryam nods. Something about this forest seems off, but she tries to tell herself that it can`t be so bad. She survived the trek through half the Continent on her own – she should be able to last a few hours here.

“Why?”, she asks, “Why save me?”

Eris gives her that insufferable smirk of his. “Your death would have been a waste. Alive, you may yet be useful.”

“Of course”, Miryam mutters, “How could I believe you`d ever help my for any reason other than your own gain.”

Any amusement vanishes from Eris` face. “I had my reasons. Back then, I mean.”

“You left a girl of seventeen in the forest to die. You truly believe any reasons you might have had make it fine?” Miryam hesitates for a heartbeat, then adds, “I thank you for your help, though.”

Eris gives her a mocking bow, then vanishes, leaving her alone in the forest.

----

A/N: I thought quite a lot about how to portray Eris. On one hand, it is made pretty clear that he is not as horrible as he seems. But I also really didn`t want to dismiss Mor`s suffering or excuse his actions, so I choose a middle ground (I mean, I don`t like him, so I wrote him as a kind of self-serving asshole, but still not as bad as his father.) I hope that worked out!

I also feel like I should probably tell you that I don`t write sex scenes. I don`t like reading them and I certainly don`t feel comfortable writing them, so all sex scenes in this book will be fade-to-black.

Tags: @sjm-things @herpowerisdeath @clolikescloquetas

#miryam #jurian #helion

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