#Chuckling confidently as I add this onto the 'List Of ''Real'' Jobs I Could Do' which is just a notebook sheet of paper with only like 5

[drabbles-mc]

Courtesy Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: A "meet cute" with either EZ or angel where u are walking out of the gas station where the swole boys confrontation is taking place

Warnings: language, smoking, guns, Angel being a smartass

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for this lovely, lanky man. This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I was really feeling it tonight. I tweaked it a little bit but I think it still flows really well. I hope you enjoy!! xo

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Angel Reyes Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @luckyharley1903 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @black-repunzel99 @punkgoddess-98 @lexondeck

There were very few good or fun things about your job at the gas station. It was nice that your boss wasn’t around much—the last thing you wanted to deal with on top of shitty customers was a supervisor breathing down your neck. And sometimes, in the midst of all the lulls and in between the rude people who rolled in and out throughout the day, you got to see some interesting things. For better or worse, travelers were never boring.

You heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the lot. The noise was deeper, had a little more muscle to it than the bikes that commonly rolled through your spot. You peeked out the window to look at the gas pumps, and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows in surprise when you saw the two men that were getting off their bikes and unclipping their helmets. If only the bikers in your area looked like that.

One of them started walking towards the door and you immediately set your phone down on the counter, trying to look at the man who had entered without making it too obvious. He perused the aisles for a couple minutes, although he didn’t really seem like he was going to pick anything out to purchase.

He approached the counter and you flashed him a smile, your customer service voice immediately kicking in, “What can I get for you?”

“Just a couple packs of smokes, please,” he pointed to the ones he wanted.

You nodded, “You got it,” you grabbed two packs and set them on the counter, but as he reached for them you didn’t remove your hand. He looked at you, confusion apparent on his face. You chuckled, “ID?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Really?”

You nodded, “Really.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed but there was still a smile on his face as he took his ID out of his wallet and handed it over to you.

You looked over it, nodded, and smiled as you handed it back, “Thank you, Angel.”

His smile shifted into a smirk of sorts, “You’re welcome, querida.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you finished ringing him out. He flashed you a wink as he swiped the packs of cigarettes off the counter, “Have a nice day.”

You leaned forward onto the counter, watching him as he walked out, “You too.”

Once he was back outside you sat back down onto your chair, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t, that it was none of your business, you looked out the window to watch him talk with the other man that he had pulled in with. You watched as Angel placed a cigarette between his lips and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did, but oh well.

Your quickly spiraling train of thought was derailed as you heard another set of motorcycles pull into the lot. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing and rolling your eyes. The Swole Boys might’ve been local but it didn’t make you like or respect them. And it certainly never made them treat you any better, either.

You looked out the window and watched as they walked up to Angel and the other man, and you instantly became interested in how it was going to play out. You couldn’t hear all of what was being said at first, but you were certain that the men who had just rolled in weren’t being courteous, or smart.

The man that Angel had shown up with got off of his bike, and you found yourself walking out from behind the counter and going towards the door. You weren’t planning on going out there and putting yourself in the middle of it, but you wanted a better idea of what was going on. It was hard to hear from behind the counter.

You heard Angel’s voice, “Next time we’ll call the Slow Boys.”

Having the protection of the glass door was a godsend, because you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you. No one ever talked to them that way, and you were thrilled that someone was stepping up to the plate and finally saying something.

The man next to Angel spoke up with a smirk tugging at his lips, “Sorry, he’s just picking up on the lack of cognitive energy comin’ our way.”

You found yourself covering your mouth with your hands as you laughed. Angel and his counterpart were clearly very pleased with themselves, both of them standing with a lot of confidence despite the mounting annoyance of the other bikers in front of them.

The Swole Boys started stepping closer and you saw Angel lean and grab something from his bag. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that he had a gun in his hand. It wasn’t raised, but you still didn’t know where this was going, if you were supposed to step in and say something. You didn’t get paid nearly enough to get shot on the job trying to protect a few douchebag gym-bros, but you didn’t want to say that you didn’t do anything. You saw that the gun was still at his side, so you stayed put and listened to the commentary he was providing. You had to admit it was amusing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped and raised the gun, going back and forth pointing it at each of them.

Now the tension was a little too much for you to be completely comfortable with. You ahd no idea what you were going to do, but you couldn’t stand inside anymore. Silently, you slipped out the front door and stood on the sidewalk right in front of it, letting the situation play out a little more. Both Angel and the man with him spotted you, their eyes flicking over to you for a moment even though they didn’t say anything to you.

“You guys are an embarrassment,” Angel shook his head, gun still aimed at the men in front of him, “Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let your shock be too present. You knew that it was still written all over your face, though. And the surprise only intensified when they actually backed off and went back to their bikes. They obviously wouldn’t have been able to go toe-to-toe with Angel and his friend, but on a different day they probably would have been stupid enough to try.

It wasn’t until the guys pulled away that Angel tucked his gun back into his bag and turned to look at you. the tough demeanor he’d just had completely fell away as he stepped a little closer to you.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” he shook his head slightly.

You chuckled, “It’s fine. Just came out to make sure I wasn’t going to have to add hose blood out of parking lot to my to-do list.”

He laughed, “I would’ve at least stuck around to help with that.”

“No he wouldn’t have,” his friend said with a smile that would make anyone’s knees buckle.

“Man, shut up,” Angel shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t mind my brother—he was dropped on his head a couple times as a child.”

“By you?” you asked with a smile.

He held a finger up to his lips, “We don’t talk about it.”

You looked back and forth between them, crossing your arms over your chest, “You guys just roll into town to stir up trouble, or what?”

Angel shook his head, “Just passing through.”

“Sorry for the scene,” his brother said.

You shrugged, “All good. Not like we’ve got any customers to scare away.”

Angel laughed, “Right, right.”

“You guys should ride through more often,” you nodded towards the road, “Those guys don’t get told to shut the fuck up often enough.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Angel smiled as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, “try to swing by and keep ‘em in line.”

You didn’t comment on it, but you could see Angel’s brother smiling and shaking his head as he watched the two of you interact. Clearly Angel was no stranger to chatting up girls that they came across in their travels. Still, this was the most interesting thing that’d happened to you since you started working at the shitty little gas station so long ago. Plus there was something about the look in Angel’s eyes that made you believe that he was an adventure that you’d be up for.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you smiled.

Angel chuckled as he took his phone out of his kutte and handed it over to you, “If you give me your number, I can give you a, uh, a little courtesy call next time I’m around.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his phone. For a moment you contemplated putting in a fake number, but going against whatever little alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind, you gave him your real one before handing the phone back over to him.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go, Angel,” his brother called from his bike with a laugh.

“Looks like you gotta go,” you nodded in the direction of their bikes.

“I’ll see you ‘round, querida,” he shot you a wink before turning to walk away.

“Try not to shoot anyone, boys,” you called after them with a laugh.

Angel smiled over at you as he clipped on his helmet, “No promises.”

[snowflakeanimelover]

Wrong Place(Dabi x Female Reader)

Nightmares are nothing more than a bad dream. So why does it make your heart speed up in terror? Keep you awake in the middle of the night, possibly for days. Why does it make you wake up at a time you wouldn’t want to be awake at?

A dream, is all it was. But why does it look so real? She could see the silhouette of a man in the darkness of her room. Sure, (Y/N) has had nightmares before. But this was more extreme, even on her second day in Japan. She just moved here. What is she supposed to expect?

Definitely not a man sitting in her room. She really didn’t believe it either, though. It’s just a dream.

“Who’s there?” She calls out into the darkness.

After a few minutes of silence, and the silhouette not moving, she sits up straighter to get a better look. The moon light from her window being the only light source.

Before she could move half way up, a low chuckle echoes through the walls.

Definitely not a dream, then.

“W-who’s there?” (Y/N) gasps, grasping her blanket as if it’ll protect her.

“You already asked that.” A man finally speaks.

“Well you didn’t answer it the first time.” Her usually snarky remarks pop out of her mouth. She quickly covers her mouth with her hands, scared of what the man would do to her.

The man just chuckles. She watches as his arm moves to rest his head on. Again, only a silhouette. “Wow. You don’t seem afraid at all.”

“I-I’m sorry! It-it just came out!” She quickly answers.

The man stands up, walking closer to (Y/N). The girl gasps once again, scooting herself backwards to get away from him. Only for her back to hit the headboard of her bed.

“Stay back!” She says with confidence.

He grabs her ankle when he gets close enough, dragging her down closer to him. He was so fast, she didn’t notice her wrists being held above her head, and the mans face so close to hers.

She could see him now. A twenty year old, she’d say. Black spiky hair, with bright blue eyes. His skin looked to be burned. No....it was attached back with staples. So technically, he looked like patch work.

He smirks, grabbing something from his pocket with his free hand, as the other is holding her wrists. A switch was heard, and a cold blade was pressed up against her neck. She squeaks at the cold metal, and at the sharp thing so dangerously close to her skin.

“Now, I have a few words from my boss he’d like to say to you.” He pauses, seeing my confusion. “Seeing as your the one who tricked him and all.” He explains to wrap up her memory. He only sees more confusion in her eyes. “You know, Shigaraki?” He adds.

(Y/N) turns her head in even more confusion. “Who?” She asks. He blinks, shocked about her memory not kicking in for one of the most popular villains in Japan. “And tricked him? I don’t even know this guy. Not to mention I just moved here two days ago.” She says casually.

He stays quiet, contemplating on what to do. “So....your not the lady I’m supposed to kill?” He asks aloud.

“I-I don’t know... I don’t think I’ve gotten onto anybody’s kill list yet...” She whispers.

Dabi thinks back to when he got the job.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” Dabi looks at the piece of paper his leader gave him.

“An address. This lady tricked me a while back. Kill her for me.” Shigaraki demands, walking away.

—————

“402....?” Dabi reads the note as he walks to the apartment complex. It had a room number.

Before he could even put it in his pocket, the wind picks up and takes it out of his hands. Dabi stops, looking back towards the flying piece of paper as it gets further and further away.

“Shit....”

“Damn. I got the wrong place.” He says, letting (Y/N) go and stepping away from her. “What room number is this?”

“Um....401...”

He lets out a long sigh. “Alright. I’m letting you go. Your lucky.” He says, walking out of the room. “Don’t tell anyone about this.” Is the last thing she hears before a door is shut.

(Y/N) sits on her bed, very confused on what just happened. A killer got the wrong place, and wrong target. Let me live...

She goes to fluff her pillow to go back to sleep, only to be stopped by a couple of screams. She looks over at the wall next door. So he was going after my neighbor?

She laughs. “Man, am I lucky...” Sleep overtakes her body, sending her back to the dream world.

————————————————

Yeah I know, pretty weird. Just randomly thought of this.🤷🏻‍♀️

[simpsiren]

Not every day.

wong yukhei x reader

description. After coming home from a failed date, I found a stranger drinking and sitting on my sofa. The stranger explained that he’s a Cupid and he’s about to get fired because of my inability to get a second date.

genre. angst, fluff, cupid au

word count. 1.5k~

warnings. nonee

a/n. struggled with coming up an idea and i just saw this prompt so i decided to use it chxndndn i might have a continuation since this is interesting in my opinion but we’ll see since im starting to get hella busy :( but ENJOY!

I found myself dragging my feet down the dark streets of my town. How’d I even end up here? I was having a date with the guy I met on Instagram just a few hours ago. I scoffed to myself, thinking about how I got dumped yet again. I dated him for at least three months. And just like that, I was thrown away by him. One night, one big blow.

Though at this point, I was too tired to think anymore. I already had a long day at work. And just as I thought I was about to have a relaxing night with a lover, I guess that’s how I ended up in this situation. I didn’t have him drive me as he’d always would so I had to walk home. My slouched posture and slow steps inched closer and closer to my apartment.

I stopped, letting out a sad sigh as I looked up to the sky and closed my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath to inhale the cold night air. “Why are you like this...” I muttered under my breath. Life has been stable for me don’t get me wrong. I guess the only problem to the completion of my successful life was the absence of a successful lover.

I continued walking till I ended up at the front of my doorstep. I dug a hand into my purse lazily to find my keys, eventually grabbing it from the bottom below all my other necessities and took it out. I unlocked the door in the split of a second, knowing that this was the last obstacle I had to go through before I could just pass out.

I locked the door behind me as I entered, throwing my shoes carelessly off to one corner. I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I stepped in, immediately making my way to my room.

“Rough night?”

I froze in my spot. Did I hear that correctly? I was too scared to turn around. The voice sounded like it came from the living room. I gulped nervously, thinking that it’s all in my head and that I was just hearing things.

I shuffled my feet deeper into the hallway, only to have the same voice sound out a, “Aren’t you going to acknowledge me?”

“It’s not every day you get to meet me.” I heard him say, but I didn’t even take it into consideration with what I said next since I was starting to get panicky.

I spun around sharply, dropping my purse and holding both hands up in the air. I shut my eyes closed, my lips pursed into a thin line. “I didn’t see your face. You can rob anything you want. I won’t report you so please get out.” I scrambled out of fear that shook under my skin, thinking it was some robber.

The person doesn’t answer and instead kept quiet for a whole twenty seconds before he bursted out laughing. Not the sinister or intimidating kind, but the one that actually expressed that the person thought that I was genuinely being funny.

“You think I want to steal? I have way better valuables.”

Slowly but surely, I opened my eyes. It took awhile for them to adjust in the darkness but once they did, I saw a figure sitting casually on the couch, legs crossed with one hand sitting on his thigh while the other rested over the back pillow. His posture looked relaxed and lazy.

I blinked my eyes rapidly. Unsure if what I was seeing in front of me was even real. A stranger is in my house. “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, now that I knew he wasn’t a robber out to rob who knows what since I didn’t even have anything of value here, I had the slightest bit of confidence to sound angry and or annoyed.

He chuckled, which gave me a questionable look with my head tilted just a few degrees to the side. “I’m a Cupid. Heard you got thrown off the man’s list and I’m about to get fired if I don’t help you.” My mouth gaped open as I tried to repeat his words to myself in my head. Cupid? Those actually existed? And one’s sitting right in front of me?

With a sudden snap of his fingers, the living room light was switched on and it revealed him. He had his hair braided to the back, wearing a white shirt wifh tons of pearl necklaces all in different sizes and lengths under an expensive white blazer jacket that had extreme textured details to it. Yet, he wore plain light washed jeans and black sneakers, which didn’t affect his overall high class outfit. Not to mention his very beautiful and charming face. I would have done a double take if I saw him on the streets.

“Uh what? Cupid? Is there something wrong up there? Need me to take you to a mental institution?” I asked, bringing my hand up to my head and tapping my index finger beside it lightly. He looked at me with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Or should I call the police? Cause’ you’re a stranger in my house and that’s called a break in.” He cocked his chin up, scoffing loud and arrogantly. “Didn’t I tell you that I’m Cupid? People can’t even see me. Unless I make myself visible that is.”

“Anyways believe or not, yes I’m Cupid. Specifically your Cupid. And I’ve been tasked to make sure you get a second date or else I lose my job. You get it?”

I ran a hand through my hair furiously as I tried to suck in all this sudden information that’s just been thrown at me. I couldn’t believe it at first. But he seemed so real, I couldn’t be imagining things.

“So I call you Cupid?” I voiced shook a little as I tried to speak up, my confidence dying ever so slightly as I took into consideration that this is real and it sounds like it’s no joking manner from the way he explained himself ealier.

“Lucas will do, thank you.” I sighed, not sure what to do with the current situation. My plan of plopping myself onto my bed and knocking out has now been completely thrown out the window. I really wished that I could just walk away from all this and do so.

“Um I honestly have no brain power to process any of this...” I swirled my hand around his figure lazily. “This shit. So can we do it tomorrow or something?” I groaned, rubbing my temples as my eyes began to feel heavy, the sleepiness already starting to kick in.

He didn’t answer but rather stood up and walked towards me slow and steady. My head tilted down slightly but I still saw his footsteps drawing in closer with his hands shoved in his jeans. “Sure. But I don’t have much time. The Neos won’t be happy if I don’t get this done.”

“Neos?” Great, another information that I accidentally asked about and now Lucas has to explain it though I think it’s going to be irrelevant.

“Its basically the other Cupids. We’re called Neos from NeoZone. It gets confusing since we all have different roles so you aren’t needed to know that.” I heaved a sigh. Thank God.

“Wait there are other Cupids?” The sudden question hit me as I tilted my head up to meet his gaze, brow raised. Lucas hummed and nodded simply.

I pucker my lips as I gave it a second thought. “Are there any other hot Cupids than you?” A slight smirk appeared on my lips. Not sure where I was heading by asking these questions if I’m being fully honest here.

“You think I’m not hot enough?” Lucas let out an exasperated gasp as he placed his hand on his chest, puffing it up as his mouth gaped open. “I mean the other Cupids are too popular and are currently too busy.”

Lucas folded his arm, weight shifting from one leg to the other as his head tilted to the side, giving me a blank and cold expression. “So you’ll have to make do with me.” He gave a cheeky eye smile afterward, which made me laugh due to how sudden the change was.

“Don’t even think of falling in love with a Cupid anyways even if you did get the popular ones. That’s already dangerous.” Lucas added. I narrowed my eyes on him, squinting them as I leaned my body forward. “How so?”

Lucas huffed, placing a hand on his forehead. “We’re suppose to help people in terms of love and romantic relationships. Falling in love as a Cupid would cause major disruption. It happened before.”

Lucas paused for a moment, looking up in the sky for a moment as if recalling something to add on. “The cupid has to become a human if they were to be in love with another human. Basically giving up their wings and abilities, advantages.”

“And trust me. I do not want that.”

“It’s not like we’re falling in love.”

I shrugged plainly. But boy was I extremely wrong as I went on the journey with Lucas, our objective and main purpose slowly shifting into something else the more we spent time together.

[kelieah]

no way (peter parker x reader)

summary: it’s your first day of work and you run into someone oddly familiar

warnings: fluff, normal au, based on a real experience lol 

edited: this is rlly shitty i havent written in forever im sorry ksdjfbdh also i wanna add onto this mini “series”, bc like if this cute guy rlly is my old crush i-

a/n: so ofc i have like no motivation to catch up w my requests atm- im so sorry skjdfbhgdj but i had my first day of work the other day so why not write a quick blurb abt how that went hehe

masterlist

- 

Honestly. I’m more excited than nervous. Right? Maybe because of that cute boy I saw the other day when I came into the store for my interview, but he’s irrelevant. Kinda.

You remember waiting in line and seeing him bag groceries. His brunette curls were all over the place and his pair of pretty brown eyes were focused on his task. 

Ugh, I could just tell he’s gorgeous, even if half his face was covered because of his mask. 

You thought to yourself as you slyly checked him out from the corner of your eye. He was wearing the stores’ shirt with some baggy jeans and worn-out new balances. For some reason, that was the most attractive thing ever to you. Maybe quarantine really was getting to you.

After the not-so-nerve-wrecking interview, you felt even more excited to start working. If they accept you of course. What made you feel that way was the fact that someone who has been working there for a while will help you out, if you do start of course. At least, that’s what the manager who was interviewing you said.

A couple of days later, you get the job. Which seemed pretty obvious, but you were stoked nonetheless. Mainly because you actually got the job and because you might get to work with the pretty boy. Then again, might. 

You’re probably barely going to see him around the store and maybe that’s a good thing. You can be awkward as fuck even though you act confident from time to time. Attractive people make you nervous, you can’t help it.

Your first day starts and everything’s pretty chill, just had to sign some papers. Now you’re in some office room starting a couple of video training modules. You lean on the palm of your hand and scroll through the list of the videos you had to watch. About 33 videos and documents, fanfuckingtastic.

Some time passes by and you glance at the computer’s time realizing it’s time to start your lunch. You shift off the headphones you were using and stand up, telling your newly acquainted coworker that you’re taking a lunch.

Okay. What do I do now? I clock out, right? Then go grab some lunch. Okay? Cool. I got this.

You breathe out and walk to the back of the store, then towards the break room to clock out. You let your manager know you’re going to go the nearby Starbucks to grab some lunch and begin to head out the store with a sense of relief rushing through your body.

That sense of relief immediately diminishes when that cute guy, stops you from leaving. “Hey, are you a courtesy clerk?” he asks, smiling at you beneath his mask.

You notice his eyes slightly squint from smiling making your stomach fill with butterflies. You nod slowly, “U-Uhm, yep.”

He stifles a laugh and holds up some empty bottle, walking up to you. You gulp and glance at him, “Could you please refill this with sanitizer for me? It’s in the back of the store, by the janitor’s closet.”

“Yeah sure,” you take ahold of it but instantly realize you don’t know where that is, “I-I’m sorry, where is that a-again?” you let out a breathy laugh.

He chuckles, “It’s uhm, somewhere in the back. I have to help these customers out but just ask someone. They’ll know. Thank you!” he walks back out to the front of the store.

Okay, fuck. Just help the cute guy. Doesn’t matter that you’re on lunch, just go. 

You inhale deeply and quickly walk away, doing his favor. You come back and walk up to him, keeping a distance. “H-Here,” you say quietly but notice he’s too focused on helping others to hear you. You bite your lip nervously out of habit and watch him. 

His eyes look so familiar. Almost like. No way? Could it be, Peter Parker from freshman year? Shut the fuck up, no way.

You feel your heart begin to race at the thought. You glance at his outfit to check for a name tag but didn’t catch anything.

Shit.

You look back up at him when you notice him come close, “Sanitizer, right?” he chirps.

You nod, “Y-Yeah.”

“Thanks,” he goes back to his job. You make your way past him with widened eyes and walk out the store to Starbucks.

That did not just fucking happen. He’s so cute, oh my god. Wait, could that really be him? It went by too fast, shit! Oh my god. I got over Peter Parker two years ago, did he really have to show up now? No, no fucking way it’s him. Whatever. I’ll find out his name eventually. Then, I guess we’ll see.

-

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[three-drink-amy]

All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

I’m so excited about this fic and very excited to be sharing it! It’s brought out my inner theater nerd and has just been fun to write! I hope you’ll enjoy it! New chapters will post on Mondays.

master list - AO3

Chapter Two - You Look Back at Me and Suddenly I’m Helpless

I stared up at him in horror. This couldn’t be happening. I knew I was tired, but had I fallen asleep and this was the nightmare befolding me? The biggest problem was that he was good. Like, really good. I watched him, my eyes wide, my mouth ajar, wondering how the hell he was completely nailing the role. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see John as transfixed as I’d been. Glancing to the other side, Marilyn seemed riveted as well. Normally, the three of us were better at keeping a poker face. His talent caught all of us off guard. The men before him had been lackluster at best. But he...he was incredible. 

Why did he have to be the man I’d slept with the night before? I sighed as he finished up his monologue. He nodded in thanks from the stage. I looked over at John and encouraged him to say something. 

“Thanks so much, Mr. Fraser,” John said, trying to keep an even tone.  He turned to me. “Claire, do you have anything to add?” I glanced up at Jamie, noting his expressionless face. I shook my head to John. “We’ll be in touch.” 

I saw the corner of his mouth quirk up slightly before he schooled his expression again. I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew just how much he’d blown us all away. 

John turned to me and Marilyn. “Okay, so he was incredible, right?” I nodded, staring up at the stage where’d he’d just been. “I mean, knocked it out of the park. On just an audition. That was two pages of script and he just killed it.” 

“I’d say he’s the best we’ve seen so far,” Marilyn agreed. “Claire?” 

I finally had to look at them. “Yes, I would agree. Maybe we should take a short break?” John shrugged, letting me get up and run from the theater before either of them could stop me. Out in the fresh air, I tried taking a deep breath. My mind was reeling at an unprecedented pace. Glancing to my left, I realized I wasn’t alone. 

There he stood, his hands covering his face. I straightened myself a bit, trying to ignore the look of him, the body I’d spent the night before exploring. It was hard to believe that I'd seen him only a couple of hours ago. Everything had changed in such a short amount of time. “Hi,” I said hesitantly. 

His hands came down and he stared at me, confusion and anger mixing on his face. “Hello, Claire.” 

I closed my eyes, nodding. There was so much to be said, but at that moment, I wanted to run. Leave the theater and the auditions behind. Escape the awkward situation with the man who had blown my mind multiple times for different reasons in the last twenty-four hours. I just wanted to go. But I couldn’t. 

“Yeah,” I admitted. “That’s me.” I looked up at him. “Except, let’s be clear here. You used a fake name as well.” 

He sighed, stepping closer to me. “Yes, I did. But the difference is that ye wouldn’t have known who I was if I used my real name.” 

I opened my mouth and shut it again, not quite sure how to reply. “I suppose that’s true. But then why use a fake name at all?” 

“Because ye did.” 

My brows raised nearly to my hairline. “Are you saying you knew who I was?” 

“No,” he told me, his hands raised, trying desperately to make me believe him. “I promise ye I didna. Hell, if I’d have known ye were the director I’d be auditioning for in the morning, I’d have bolted from the bar before ye’d even looked at me.” My stomach sank a bit at his comment. “I could just tell ye used one.” 

“How? What, are you a human lie detector?” 

He chuckled, despite the current air between us. “No. But no one has to pause to think of their name.” 

I scoffed. “I didn’t do that.” 

“Aye, ye did.” 

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Fine. But you know what, if you’d have said you’re an actor, I’d have split equally as fast.” 

“Ye didna talk about yer job either. I mean, we both did a bit, but all of it was vague,” he reminded me. 

I crossed my arms. “Look, I think we can both agree that this was just very shocking.” 

“Shocking is no’ the word I’d use,” he disagreed. I gestured for him to continue. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way ye can understand this from my perspective. I really prepared for this and was genuinely hopeful for the first time in a long time.” He shook his head, his eyes glancing upward. “And clearly that was all shot to hell.” 

I started to counter him, but he’d turned and walked away. Ignoring my responsibilities inside, I stood there, almost daring him to come back. I tried to forget the foolish hurt I was feeling. But the plain matter was, I’d inadvertently shown him who I really was and he’d run away. It had been one night between us, but my stupid, rarely seen, romantic self had read into things this morning before I left. When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I walked back inside, hoping to plaster on the best poker face I could. 

“Claire!” John called, waving me forward. “We haven’t been able to stop talking about Fraser. He was incredible, right?” 

I nodded, walking back toward my seat. “Yep.” 

“I mean, he just nailed that,” Marilyn agreed. My body twitched at the innuendo that could be taken from her comment. And yet, my traitorous brain supplied images from the night before. 

“Do you think he’s actually Scottish or do you think he was doing an accent?” John asked as he took a drink of his coffee. 

“He’s actually Scottish,” I said before I could stop myself. 

Both of them turned to look at me. “How do you know that?” Marilyn asked. 

My mind was scrambling. “He was talking in an accent before he started the monologue,” I reasoned. “Besides, it sounded too natural for it to be fake.” 

“That’s fair,” John agreed. He looked to both of us. “I mean, we can all agree that he’s our top choice right?” 

“How many more auditions do we have for the male lead today?” I asked. 

John checked his list. “Today, there are five more. Then we move onto the female lead. But there are other days this week with male lead auditions.” 

I took a deep breath. “Here’s what we should do. See the other five today. If by the end of the day, we still feel confident in our top choice, then we can cancel the next days’ male lead auditions. Sound good?” 

Marilyn and John both nodded. “Works for me,” John said. “Have either of you heard that name before?” 

I shook my head confidently. “No, I’d never heard of Jamie Fraser.” It was the closest I could get to the truth. 

“Me either,” Marilyn concurred. 

“Seems surprising that someone with that amount of talent hasn’t broken through yet,” John commented. 

“Everyone’s waiting for the right role,” I remarked, sitting back down in my seat. 

“Maybe he was modeling for a while first,” Marilyn suggested. John and I both whipped our heads to look at her. “What? Did you see that man? He was gorgeous.” 

“Keep it in your pants, Marilyn!” I scoffed. I was hardly one to talk, but they didn’t know that. Marilyn would die if I told her in explicit detail just how beautifully made he was. If I thought about it hard enough, I could still feel his touch. I shook my head, trying to refocus. That man needed to get out of my head for the rest of the day. 

That night I went home to my apartment and poured myself an especially large glass of wine. Whisky was what I usually turned to, but after sharing a glass with Jamie the night before, I decided wine was better. The last thing I needed to do was dwell on what came after the whisky. 

I took a long drink, setting the glass down next to me. How the hell did this happen? Hours later, I still couldn’t believe that our top choice for the role was the man I’d slept with the night before. But what I really couldn’t shake was the look on his face when he saw me — really saw me. He almost looked disappointed, like he wanted me to be someone different. At that moment, I didn’t hate the idea. 

I was deep into glass number two when my phone rang. “Hello?” I answered, already wishing I’d just let it ring. 

“Claire, it’s John.” 

“Hi.” 

“Okay, so I wanted to double check choices with you tonight before I make my calls in the morning. We finished up female leads today and all agreed upon Louise de la Tour, correct?” 

“That’s right,” I told him, taking another drink. 

“And for the lawyer, we wanted to commit to Abernathy,” he continued. 

“Of course.” 

“Perfect. And you know it’s your final call on all of these, right? Because you’re the director,” he reminded me unnecessarily. 

I chuckled. “Yes, I know John.” 

“Good. So, then are you still good with Jamie Fraser for Peter?” 

I thought it over in my mind. What would it be like to have him there every day? To have to hide what happened between us. To work closely with someone I knew I had an unbelievable physical connection with. What would be said about us if someone found out? 

But then on the other hand, I remembered his audition. He’d been amazing. I’d never seen another one like it. And certainly not today. There was no question in my mind that he was the best for the role. 

I shook my head to myself. “Yes, I’m still good with that.” 

“Perfect,” John replied, not acknowledging my pause. “Then, I’ll make the calls in the morning.” 

“Thank you for checking, John,” I said before he hung up. 

“Not a problem. Have a great night, Claire. Maybe try to come in a bit less rough tomorrow,” he teased. 

“Ha!” I fake laughed back. Tonight would be worlds different from the night before. But as I laid awake that night, I wondered if I’d get roughly the same amount of sleep. 

* * *

I walked into the theater looking significantly more put together than I had the day before. John greeted me with a smile as we sat down, getting ready to start today’s round of auditions. Marilyn walked in and sat next to me, trapping me as always in the middle. 

We sat through a number of auditions before lunch time, some of them good, some of them not very good. The roles were starting to narrow and we were getting close to moving from pre-production to production. This part was always very exciting to me. When the last roles were being cast and things were starting to take shape. I always loved it. 

It felt different this time, though. And I knew Jamie Fraser was to blame. I’d purposefully kept from asking John about his calls that morning. I knew if we had to recast any of them, he’d have mentioned it. The three of us sat eating lunch together as we took a break from auditions. 

“So how did the calls go, John?” Marilyn asked, sparing me the need. 

John finished chewing, nodding mostly to himself. “Mostly good.” 

“Mostly?” I asked. 

He grimaced a bit. “Well, Fraser told me he needs to think about it.” 

“Why?” Marilyn pressed, beating me to the punch yet again. 

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. I wonder if he has a different role he’s up for,” John mused. I coughed to myself. I knew what was likely holding him up. Me.

“You’ve made these calls hundreds of times,” I reminded him. “You know when someone is trying to make us want them more or when they’re going to turn down the role. Listen to your gut. What do you think it is?” 

John took a deep breath, a concerned look crossing his face. He glanced at me. “I think he’s going to turn it down.” 

I sighed, shaking my head. This was my mess. And now, I had to fix it.

Next chapter

[letsperaltiago]

then together let us make a world | jake x amy |

Tooth-rotting fluff based on episode 7x01 coming through! 

Read on ao3 here! 

----------

It’s only after getting over the disappointment of Scully and Hitchcock's interview-hijack that it really hits Jake what had previously gone down: They’re going to start trying… for a baby. Gushing thoughts have completely corrupted his brain but they contain so much excitement, confidence he’s never quite felt before, and for this reason he doesn’t mind.

They’re going to start trying for a baby, a little tiny human being, that will be his and hers.

That evening Amy had brought up the pregnancy scare very delicately well aware of her husband’s much improved although still tentative feelings concerning the logistics of the baby-matter. Granted they’d crossed paths with the subject, multiple times, before Jake had indeed, and rather firmly, settled on the fact that, yes, he wanted to be a dad: specifically Amy Santiago’s child’s dad. What had up until now held him back was the question of when.

When would he be ready? When would the time be perfectly right?  When would he be able to be the exact opposite of his own dad?

Even though Amy by all means knew her husband could never turn out to be a shitty dad, or shitty anything, for that matter, and of this she’d reassure time after time, she also knew there was understandable reasoning behind his apprehension. Or that was until tonight. Tonight he hadn’t needed her delicateness, though he appreciated it, and he hadn’t cared about his former apprehension. Tonight had been and felt different.

It was as if the second the word pregnant had escaped her lips, he’d instantly felt his heart skip a beat which he at first thought was alike previous nervous occasions, right up until giving it another nanosecond to realise that this time it wasn’t the case. Different from previous times this flutter felt good, thrilling, new and akin to what could only be described as his hopes and dreams about of this long awaited epiphany. And now… it was finally here.

Sitting in bed with her, the very equivalent of the most normal end of the day for them, nothing that felt more special and right as he’d said out loud what he so shamelessly had felt as a result of her little update. The words had flown out his mouth but, for once, his spontaneous declaration were at no one’s expense because, yes, he was ready.

And now, after watching the rest of the news and settling down for the night, it really hits Jake, as they’re lying there, how truly right it all feels. He’s currently tucked into bed with his head slightly propped up watch whatever nonsense is now on TV, alongside him Amy has fallen asleep with her head on his chest, left arm and leg wrapped lovingly around him. It does constrain most of his ability to move but at the very least allows him to have his left arm under, around and holding her close in return. Even considering how normal the evening feels, it also feels that more special, truly like the start of something brand new.

Just as yet another mind numbing commercial interrupts whatever he was mindlessly pretending to watch his eyes drop to look down upon Amy’s sleeping figure. There, his eyes are met by shiny black hair standing out against her pink shirt, indeed messy after a long day but not enough to come in-between his angle of view and her beautiful face. And there it is again, he realises: the stupid smile on his face that’ll appear out of nowhere without a warning the second his mind revisits the thought of the woman before him carrying their child. There is no helping it, he thinks, before letting his fingers run through the locks carefully as to not wake her up.

“Careful, Peralta,” she rumbles, startling him even though he won’t admit to it, half of her face currently smushed comfortably into his chest, nevertheless burying it in a lazy attempt at physical affection.

“You’re absolutely in deep now. There’s no going back,” she jokes through shut eyes although he can tell that there’s a smug grin hiding in his chest.

“Oh, honey I’ve been in deep for a long time now.”

He smiles down at her continuously playing with her hair. Her eyes are still closed but her hand, which seconds ago was helping her hold onto his torso, moves to stroke his bicep. However her smile, on the other hand, quickly changes, doesn’t remain smug for long, and quickly transitions from teasing to a softer version that reflects how she’s really feeling.

“I know it’s still really early and we literally just decided to start trying, but…” she trails off after suddenly opening her eyes, as if the moment has suddenly gained a certain tint of sincerity that wasn’t there seconds ago. “… have you thought about any, you know,” she takes the tiniest of breaths, inhaling courage, before twisting her neck as much as physically possible in her given position to lock eyes with him, “baby names?”

“I actually have,” he counters, once again taking her by storm, without a flinch or any kind of sign of insecurity. Amy’s so proud of him.

With a reassuring smile he reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand, where it’d immediately been put aside when Amy had come to him with what he’d picked up on as important matter. He doesn’t even have to see at the look upon his wife’s face: he can sense that she’s beaming as he settles back against the pillow with his phone in hand.

“You made a list?” She’s truly surprised and impressed by just how much her A-typeness has worn off on him even if it’s just little things like lists.

“Yeah,” he states proudly before briefly clearing his throat thus prompting Amy to flip over, scooting back to lean her upper backside and head against his chest instead. It’s no secret that she’s extremely curious to get a look at a) her husband’s attempt at what she considers a hobby and b) what her husband considers legitimate names for their future child. This new position will allow her to look through the mystery-list with him. With both arms wrapped around her Jake holds and rests the devise on his belly for both of them to see

“…I actually started making it that evening after our talk at the hospital.”

Amy observes a slight reddening of his cheeks, perhaps not out of embarrassment per say but rather out of understanding of how very real the matter at hand has gotten. His list is no longer just a pile of names in his Notes-app where he’d, for fun and hypothetical reasons, add another one whenever he came across one he liked: now it’s a list that could quite possibly contain the name of their future child.

She grins from ear to ear way before he has the chance to start reading out loud. Just how in love with him she is keeps hitting her again and again, a thousand miles per hour, like lighting tearing apart the sky during a thunderstorm.

“The first name on the list you already know about since we’ve talked about it: Atlas.”

“Still kinda really like it,” Amy shrugs light-heartedly from where she’s comfortably leaning into him all while tracing small drawings of nothing in particular but affection his thigh.

“Our child would be the one to be named after a god, huh?” Jake teases earning him a chuckle from Amy.

“So unbiased,” she confirms jokingly.

“Exactly,” he briefly pecks the top of her head in agreement before continuing. “Alexander is up next.”

“Nu-uh!” Her body twists hurriedly in a tiny squirm of objection. “Perp-alert! I can’t have my child have the same name as one of my ex-perps.”

“Ames, combined we’ve probably arrested hundreds if not thousands of perps!”

While he can see her point: after all it is understandable that she doesn’t want their child to be associated with anything negative, this also erases a lot of possibilities on both their ends.

And although he is completely serious upon making his statement, he has to laugh at the thought of having to name their child something completely absurd because of the extremes of their job.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of names that haven’t been ruined by crime yet. There are literally billions of names out there!” On her part it is in fact a statement but ends up coming out as whine instead - a playful complaint of sorts.

“Sure,” he pauses to think for a second before pulling up a browser tab wherein starts typing obviously searching for something.

Amy’s eyes tries to keep up with his typing but Jake’s fingers have obtained their fair share of training from all the time he spends gaming on his phone, and it’s more of a struggle to follow than she likes to admit. 

All she happens to catch is that as soon as he types the first few letters of whatever he’s searching to find, the website’s name pops up as a suggestion telling her that he’s visited it before. He swiftly enters it and clicks around a few more times losing her in the process. A long list appears on what appears to be babynames.com. The thought of him visiting it on his own time, by himself as… fun? It makes her heart flutter.

“It won’t be a problem if you want our child to be called… Agamemnon.”

She immediately twists her neck to look up at him where she’s met by a deadpan she knows is trying to hide the fact that he’s cracking up on the inside.

“I mean,” she untwists her neck to grab the phone from his hand in order to have a closer look at the screen and what is written about the name. “We do seem to have something for Greek mythology so I don’t see the problem, Jake.”

Jake knows Amy like the back of his hand and it’s clear as day that she’s messing with him – but of course two can play that game.

“Okay, great,” he states matter-of-factly, “It’s settled then: we’re naming our child Agamemnon Santiago-Peralta - boy or girl.”

He gently takes back his phone to lock it as a visual settlement of the discussion.

“Okay. Cool cool cool…” Amy complies.

Silence dominates the bedroom for a few seconds before Amy twists her neck, both looking at each other trying to figure out when to kill the joke. Their shared look doesn’t last long before they break into laughter.

“I’m sorry, Ames, but you will never hear me call our child Agamemnon out loud.”

“Completely fair.”

Both of their laughs quiet down. Amy settles back down against his chest while Jake reopens his phone and Notes-app.

“What else do you have in there? I’m sure there are some genuinely good contestants.” She almost coos in order to get the conversation back and track, although more importantly to let him know she genuinely wants to hear his propositions.

This time it’s Amy turn to gentle grab the phone from him and scroll. He loves moments like these where they’re just soaking in each other’s presence without much else to do but talk or touch for the sake of it. To occupy himself in the meantime Jake allows his newly freed hands to caress her the area around her waist and stomach now suddenly also better known as where their child will be growing, becoming a tiny little individual, in what he sincerely hopes is a matter of months. A year ago he couldn’t fathom the feeling this feeling of impatience to be dad, yet alone truly, surely wanting a child. In a drastic lift-changing contrast, here they finally were, going through baby names like it was the most common thing in their world.

“Olivia is nice… Felix also good… Noah is adorable…”

Jake can tell, from the tone of her voice, that she genuinely means every single comment she makes, which wholeheartedly provokes a feeling of pride and the feeling of he can do this. The sound of her voice threats to lull him into a trancelike state, and for a moment allows his eyes to shut while he lets his ears do the job of keeping of with Amy discovering his lists. Just like his eyes, his hand’s movement on her are about to falter when suddenly his wife lets out a tiny gasp. It’s safe to say that his eyes are, just as fast as they were closed, back wide open.

“This one is really sweet,” he can tell she’s smiling from the way her voice is laced with softness. “Juliet,” she continues, out loud, to allow it to roll on her tongue and for herself to get a better taste of it.

Jake gives her some time to dwell on it before speaking up.

“Yeah, I added it after that night we watched ‘Letters to Juliet’… I don’t know if it’s too sappy for my own good, but I like the thought of the baby being like…”

Amy can tell he hesitates to finish the sentence.

“What?” she looks up at him with an eager look: only those beautiful brown eyes that at any time can calm him down, can also lure him out of his emotionally wounded shell.

“… This baby is going to be like our little love letter.”

A few beats, a matter of seconds, go by and Amy can tell he’s just about to break into cringing and a string of sarcastic comments to redeem what he’s just said. Only this time he doesn’t make it, because Amy Peralta-Santiago lives for Jake’s occasional super-soft moments and she’s not about to let this one slip away.

It’s, or so it feels, out of the blue, just as the cringe starts to break on his face, that he halts when his wife suddenly does a 180 and relocates to hover above him. He briefly, just barely manages to, catches the glimpse of a smile on her face that tells him that he’s doing just fine. That is before it disappears into a soft, warm kiss pressed to his lips.

As so many times before, an amount that he forever hopes will be infinite, their lips come together in sweet, passionate harmony.

“Don’t say anything,” she pecks the corner of his lip so softly the need for more pressure creates a burning sensation. “I love it,” she whispers into his ear, adding a kiss to the shell before moving her way back to the main target, sparking off goose bumps.

Her hands have already, even before their lips crashed, made their way to cup his face secretly enjoying the light, barely there, scruff beneath her touch.

“I love you,” he exhales, just barely making it out between clashing of their lips.

“I love you too,” is promptly returned as so many times before although it, even after being repeated many times throughout the years, never loses its true value.

He loves her so much, he can’t help but think over and over again as he the billions of baby names quickly disappear from his mind under the new, increasingly passionate circumstances. Nothing else in the world matters anymore because they’re just going to start trying.

Yeah, seriously.  

[mxtantrights]

✹ 　PART SEVEN (DAMSEL)

HAWKINS, INDIANA

NOVEMBER 7, 1983

"Can I speak with Jessie Glendall please?" A lady who I hadn't met asks my history teacher. She's very lucky that I don't like inhabiting the same space as Carol. I raise my hand in an instant and she looks to me, waves me over.

I don't even wait for Ms.Sean to excuse me.

I grab my bag and my books in my hands and walk to the door. The lady holds it open for me and lets me out before she leaves the classroom. Her hair is long and brown, but it's not styled like any other adult women I know. Seems like she has her own style, it's straight down her back no curls, waves, nothing.

She begins walking down the hall and I follow her. I follow her all the way to her office I presume because she walks in like she owns it and sits in the chair behind the desk. I sit across from her and set my bag and books down in the chair next to me.

I can see a file on her desk. All alone.

I watch as she adjusts her skirt in her seat and then looks at me. "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself to you, clumsy me. I'm your college advisor, you can call me Lisa."

Her hand is stretched out for me to take.

College.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I know college is a scary thing to some people. But I'm here to help you with any questions you may have, or any questions you don't have, anything." Her hand is still out as she tells me that.

I take it quickly. "Yeah- no I'm not scared. Well. I- that's a whole thing. But I've only just met you."

"Don't worry. It's actually good to be scared because it shows that you care about your future. So I've go to ask," And I think to myself oh no, here we go. Here we fucking go. "What are your hobbies?"

What?

"I like music- but shouldn't you be asking what I want to be?" I ask hesitantly. It was nice question that not a lot of people ask. It was nice to be asked that.

She laughs a bit at that. "I'm not like everyone else who's asking those questions that scare you. I want to know about you, so I can maybe not scare you. And you can come back here willingly."

I let out a weird sort of chuckle.

"That's nice." It's all I've got.

"I know. So, what about music? You play any instruments? In a band? Choir?" She dives right in and I can feel a bit of relief come to me.

"I'm not in anything but I just got a guitar a few months ago. And I've been singing for as long as I can remember." It felt easy with her, like I was talking to a friend. Someone who wouldn't judge me. Like Benny.

She nods along to the words I say. "So you like singing, and guitar. They have schools for that you know?"

I lean back in my seat. Yeah I know that. I just know that there is no way I'm getting there with my parent's full support. I know that they might tell me no. They might tell me to keep it as a hobby, but not a career path. Theres the tiniest chance that they would be okay with it, to my face. And then behind my back they'll be waiting for me to fail.

I've spent more time thinking about this than I do homework.

"I just don't think it's an actual possibility for me. My brother is in Stanford for Law right now. I feel like if I go to school for music then I'm becoming the black sheep." I try to put into words, but it sounds better in my head.

I watch her nod and then she goes into her drawer. She moves things around quite a lot actually before she pulls out a paper. When she does, she takes a hold of the file in her other hand and holds both up for me to see.

"Jessie I've seen you're grades." She puts bluntly.

Here we go again. Here we go.

"Look, I'm new here I just moved-"

"From Texas I know. And I have your grades from there too and they look pretty good. Now it's not uncommon for this kind of thing to happen but we're in November and your grades haven't picked up at all since you started." She waves the file around with my name on it as she speaks.

"I know but-" She gives me a look that says she wasn't finished so I stop talking.

"I see here that you had music back in sophomore year. Aced that with a 100. And then I see on your schedule right now you aren't taking any arts." She begins and hands me my file. I take it as she continues, "It's my job to see these things and advise you, not tell you like your parents, or pressure you like your friends. And I see a girl who could be doing amazing things."

I scoff and open my file. My grades from Texas are staring me right in the face. I can't lie about it. And I can't hide that 100. What else am I gonna do besides own it?

"Okay. Yeah. Maybe I could. But when I enrolled here the art class was full and so was music. And my dad wanted me to get my required stuff out of the way so I took P.E." I tell her, closing my file back and handing it to her.

She doesn't take it. Instead she holds out the other paper in her hand. I take it and take a look at whats on it. It's a list of art schools. Fricking Juilliard is at the top of it. I didn't even think that was an option for me. If Stanford was impossible then that was whatever comes after.

I look at her, since it's all I can do. I'm not entirely speechless but damn near it.

"I think you should put that list in your file, and start getting real with yourself and others about what you want."

I look back down at the two separate things. The two things that have been forged spirit since I moved here. And she's right. I knew it deep down all this time. I wanted to pursue music, it's been my dream since I could have dreams. I just haven't been confident enough to stand in it.

My hands put the list into my file.

I can't believe it, but then another part of me is just screaming. ABOUT TIME!

I look back up at Lisa. My college advisor. "What next?"

-

"I'll meet you guys there, over." I hear my brother speak- most likely into his walkie. I don't think he's talking to himself in the mirror or something.

I open his door and place my hands on my hips. "I don't know what you think you're doing but no."

He sighs very loudly, making me close his door and shush him.

Our parents are in bed early tonight. I haven't the faintest clue why but it cut into my guitar time. It's painfully quiet in this house meaning I can most definitely hear my dork brother speaking on his loud ass walkie talkie.

"Jessie! I have to go my friends need me!" He whisper-shouts at me.

Need him for what? It's dark and raining. There is no way he's going out there to play D&D with them right now. It's too dangerous for him to bike, and its way too late.

"It is late, it is raining and I cannot let you go out there." I shake my head at him.

"You have-" He starts yelling but I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Lower your voice!" I whisper again. Can't he take the hint that he needs to be quieter? If he was even gonna get through my parents he was walking into a losing battle. I take my hand from his mouth.

"It's Will, he's missing."

I-

holy shit.

What the fuck?!

"I'm coming with you then. Just meet me downstairs in a minute." I tell him and he nods his head. I walk over to his door before thinking to myself, I hope he doesn't pull some shit with me. I turn back and point at him. "Do. Not. Leave me."

He nods again.

-

The boys are standing outside of the little makeshift cabin. Their flashlights are shining on something inside but I can barely see with the rain. It's pelting down on me, on all of us so hard I think I might be swimming in it.

"Is it him?" I shout over the loud pouring water.

They don't move.

It can't be a dead body right? They would scream out if they saw something like that, I would. Or maybe I'd be paralyzed with fear. Too scared to form words. Too scared to do much of anything.

I take that as a sign to evoke my older sister duties and slightly push them out of the way. As I do, I can see into the cabin. A kid, looking right back at all of us.

"We need to get her out of this rain," I start ordering while taking off my jacket.

The kid isn't saying much of anything. I hand her my jacket, slowly, and she takes it.

"My house." Mike adds.

Yeah because she was definitely not coming home with me and Mickey.

"Alright Wheeler, you're house."

-

I watch from the staircase as the boys throw their questions at her. We figured out that she's a she when she stepped more into the light. And now she's on Mike's couch, not saying much of anything again. She hasn't said a word since we brought her here.

She sat on the back of my bike and held onto me very lightly.

The boy's start going overboard but before I can tell them to calm down, Mike seems to do so. Seems that he wasn't he tiny asshole I pegged him to be. He brings her some spare clothes from the laundry.

I watch as she inspects them, like she needs to be wary of everything she comes into contact with.

Then she's on her feet, peeling off my jacket and about to pull up her shirt when I jump forward.

"Wait a minute!" I shout with the others.

Mike points to the bathroom and tells her to change in there.

The little girl picks up the clothes and follows his instructions. I see her take herself to the bathroom and look around. Mike tries to close the door to give her privacy but she grips it tight. I think this is the part where I step up.

"You don't want it closed?" I ask her

She takes a second before finally, finally answering. "No."

I watch Mike speak to her, and they both agree to keep the door open a few inches. Mike walks away, back to the other boys. But I stay where I am, turned around of course, to block the crack in the door.

I don't pay attention to their conversation. I’m too in my own head about this little kid.

What the actual fuck.

Where did she come from? Why was she just out in the rain like that? What's her name? Where are her parents? Why doesn't she speak much?

This can't be good.

All roads lead to this is really fucked up. Some fucked up shit is happening here in this small town. A girl, with a shaved head, who can barely speak is just in the woods all by herself. I don't like the way any of this sounds.

"Jessie?"

I look at the boys now who are all looking at me. "What?"

"Mike's plan, did you hear it?" Dustin asks me and I shake my head. He sighs, but tells me anyways. "She'll stay here, then mike will get her to come to his front door in the morning aldrin the bell. And his mom will handle it."

What kind of plan is that?!

No.

"That- and then what happens to her?" I ask them expectantly.

"Who cares, she's not our problem!" Lucas barks back to me.

Not their problem? What? "Well she is now. She is now that we all decided to bring her back here and clothe her."

"Look we can't tell anyone. We'll all be put on lockdown Jessie." Mickey.

He's right. But theres something going on. Maybe because they're kind of too young to see all the scenarios. But I'm old enough to know things. Scary things that happen to people, to girls. I have a really bad feeling about all of this.

What if she's running from something or someone?

She opens the door from behind me and I turn around as she steps closer to me.

My father's feminist agenda is screaming at me. Right now. This is it.

I look down at her, "I don't know if you can understand me or not," I crouch down to be at her level and see her take a breath. "you'll be safe here for the night. With Mike."

She nods her head once at me to let me know she understands. I hope.

All I know is, I feel the need to protect her. Meaning I'm gonna have to wake up bright and early Tomorrow morning to derail Mike's plan. My parents don't come into my room- god I really hope not- and If I have to hide her in my closet for God'sakes I will. 

[marvelstud10s]

Cupid’s Bullet | 01

Summary: Leading a life of mystery and quiet, she has everything under control as her impeccable life as an assassin. Except this one time.

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/N: Legit screaming at how bad this looks, but I really like this AU thing I did, but ignore my rookie writing don’t let the beginning fool you (I put ethnicity and race in there cause I don’t want people assuming I only do one race hehe)

Chapter 1

The frosty November air nipped at Y/N’s sensitive skin, causing her to shiver and shrug deeper into her blue knit scarf. The cute little cafe seemed to be closer the last time she checked her GPS, deciding to walk instead of taking a cab to save money. Y/N could barely make out the cafe’s sign as she jumped on her tip toes, weaving her way throughout the bustling New York crowd. She kept glancing down at the time, not wanting to be late. 9:42 AM, the clock read. Four minutes until showtime.

Y/N walked into the almost deserted cafe, but still very pleasant. The air smelled of freshly roasted coffee beans and vanilla, soft jazz music playing through the speakers. She looked to her left, looking at her first client, Owen, white, a tall brunette with soft doe brown eyes. He was a paramedic, and good at it to. A good Christian boy with morals and astonishingly kind. As if on cue, he looked up and gave Y/N a wave and smile, showing off his pearly whites. She did the same hesitantly, then headed over to the other side of the shop to wait for her second client.

A jingle of the store bell made Y/N look up from her clock, seeing Victoria, her second client, enter the store. She was average height, neither tall or short, sharp brown eyes, Latina, a mole under her left eye, making her look more intimidating. She was an up and coming business owner for a beauty company. She walked with confidence, glancing at her watch. Punctual, Y/N concluded.

Just as the second hand reached the twelve. 9:46 AM.

Victoria turned and glanced at her watch once more, not seeing Owen shoot up from his spot, finally noticing he was going to be late for work. The coffee is going to be tough to clean out, Y/N thought to herself, as, seeming in slow motion, the two collided with each other, and Owen’s coffee flying through the air and splattering all over Victoria’s ironed blouse. Victoria stumbled a bit, staring down at her, now coffee brown and lavender, shirt with an open mouth. Owen grabbed her arm and steadied her. “Oh my gosh, are you alright? I am so sorry, I’ll get that cleaned up right away, I didn’t mean to-, gosh I’m so clumsy.” Owen rambled as he quickly grabbed napkins and dabbed her shirt repeatedly. You dug through your sleek black leather bag and fumbled with a small red handgun, with a little tiny white heart on the side (adds a little feminine touch, she thought). Y/N closed an eye and focused, pointing the barrel of the gun at Victoria. Y/N took a deep breath, not daring to move a muscle, not even huff a breath. And in one go, pressed down her pointer finger, the force of the shot pushing her backwards a bit, hitting Victoria, the invisible and harmless bullet going through her first client, then going into her second. Y/N slid it inconspicuously into her bag, doing what she’s done thousands of times without a hitch.

Perfect. No more, no less. Victoria gasped in a breath as she was ready to scream at him, but then she stopped herself, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. “I-it’s alright, everyone has those days,” she says, gently grabbing the napkins from him. The two looked at each other, time seeming to slow down just for the two of them. “How would you like it if I took you to coffee sometime, as an apology. I promise I won’t spill it on you,” He chuckled. Victoria smiled and bit her lip. “I’d like that very much.”

Y/N smiled to herself as she crossed two names off her list.

I guess you could call me cupid. But the idea of being compared to a floating baby in a diaper isn’t exactly flattering. I like to think of myself more as a “love” assassin, I don’t know what else to call myself really, my job is more of just a morning routine. Each night, every night for as long as I could remember at 11:15 PM sharp, I would get a letter, a pastel red envelope with a pretty little heart on the front in metallic gold, no return address, no name, no nothing. A deep, almost blood crimson wax seal would conceal the paper, with an arrow indentation on it. The paper inside would be a perfectly shaped rectangle stationery, fit for the envelope, with gold flowers and light green leaves lining the side of the white paper. All the paper would say is a time, two names, and two descriptions. When I come back from the missions, I would find $500 in cash in a similar envelope on my kitchen table. I would never get a location of the mission, that was for me to find out. I’m still stumped as to how I know where to go, I just find a place that seems fitting, and I’m always right, always on time. Never had an incident, never had a mess up, never late. Never imperfect.

Except for one time.

The day was Monday, January 27th, 7:38:23 AM. Y/N was up and doing her daily workout, preparing for the mission, which was at 4:39:03 PM. It wasn’t sharp, Y/N hated missions that didn’t end in a sharp. She mumbled and complained to herself about the early hours, but she couldn’t sleep last night. Her hand twitched on the dumbbell, almost dropping it on her foot. She set it down gently, not wanting to get lost in a daydream and hurt herself. She shuffled to her tiny kitchen, preparing a breakfast, feeling something deep in her gut, figuring food could solve it. Butterflies, and they wouldn’t go away. “Pancake mix, pancake mix,” she murmured, looking through her cabinets. “Dang it,” she whined, knowing she was out, and settled for a PB&J. Y/N bounced her leg up and down, nervously chewing on her sandwich, scarfing it down without even noticing. Her missions always go right, always, but she always had the tendency to get nervous.

She always made sure she wasn’t fidgeting, shaking, sloppily shooting or foolishly letting somebody see her. But she can’t help but worry something is going to mess her up, and she doesn’t even want to know what’ll happen if she does. Maybe the magic being who sent her the letters would stop and kill her in the middle of the night? What if her gun stopped working and she couldn’t do her job anymore? Wh- Her thoughts got cut short as she heard her doorbell ring. Y/N shifted her eyes to her leather bag, not jumping, her instincts always on high. She swiftly grabbed her gun and put it in her thigh holster, then grabbing a real gun and holding it up, pointing it at the door. She cautiously gazed around her apartment, quickly going over how long it would take to double check her nailed down windows. No, too much time. Trust yourself, she thought to herself. She never let her eyes wander from the door, never letting her gun trail from it. She ran from her spot and by the door, the doorknob farthest from her. “Who is it?” She asked in a firm but innocent voice, as she took the safety clip off of her gun. “Uh, delivery?” A wavering voice said from the other side, sounding like a teenager. Y/N’s composure let up a bit, but opened the door with her foot. She quickly stepped out and hid the guns, putting on a fake smile. “For whom?” She asked. He looked up at her nervously, his blonde hair falling onto his face.

The delivery boy stuttered, scratching at his growing acne. “Um, Miss L/N?” He asked. She signed the paper and sent him on his way, then setting the box gently on the floor, recognizing the pastel red color and multiple gold hearts. No address. Y/N briskly walked to her window, looking at the delivery boy and wondering how he knew where to deliver it. One part of her wanted to just throw caution to the wind and open it, seeing the familiar packaging. But letting her guard down meant laying her life down. She glanced down at the boy again as he walked down to his car. He hopped in, but didn’t start it right away, instead, reaching for something on his neck. Something wasn’t right about how he scratched it though. The delivery boy pulled on something, a sort of blue fabric coming off of his face, revealing a woman, pulling off the blonde bowl-cut wig, revealing her red hot hair. They made eye contact, a split second of mutual, controlled panic washing over them. The redhead reached up to her earpiece, saying something. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to read her lips. “We have a problem.”

That’s not good.

Before Y/N could even blink, a bullet came breaking through her living room window, effectively shattering it. Y/N ducked and ran, picking up her bag, staring at the mystery box, deciding to take the handheld box and put it into her bag, but then throwing it, chastising herself for tolerating something that obviously put her in danger. Her door slammed open as a man with a mask with an “A” on it, threw a red and white shield at her. She kicked it back at him and whimpered, never seeing these people before in her life and wondered what they wanted. Y/N limped a little, the shield really taking an impact on her boot clad foot. She hurriedly grabbed her shoes and ran into her bathroom, tossing open her mirror and crawling through the tunnel, closing the glass behind her. The cold, damp tunnel gave way and she dropped, a small gasp leaving her. She put on her shoes quickly, grunting at the rush. 

A light could be seen at the end of the supposed rabbit hole, the freezing wind making her squint at it, a dumpster pile speeding up faster and faster, cushioning Y/N’s plummet. She tried to be as noiseless and fast as possible, jumping over the dumpster, almost tripping over the gravel under her black combat boots and jumping onto her black motorcycle, quick and quiet, a stealthy black helmet already being fastened onto her head. She started the engine up, without it making a roar, making her smirk and she sped off without looking back. She turned into an alley, deciding to take the long way around the building, not onto the streets, not taking any chances to get caught. Y/N stepped harder on the gas, coming up to a gate that led to the freeway. A wooden ramp was coincidentally there, as if on purpose. She took it anyway, the ramp giving her leeway and making her look pretty cool as she dropped onto the freeway, passing every car easily.

Her engine revved as she swerved between lanes, multiple cars honking at her, many of them throwing expletives at her. “What am I lookin’ at?” Y/N wondered allowed, her computer screen inside the window of her helmet showing her the nearest exit and safe house. “Who were those people?” She asked again. Six faces showed up on the screen, a brief bio on the left side. “The Avengers, six super human heroes, Black Widow,” she looked at the picture of the redhead, recognizing her immediately. “Steve Rogers, AKA, Captain America, Tony Stark, also Iron Man, blah blah blah,” She muttered, quickly trying to learn as much as possible. A red alert popped up on her screen. Incoming impact, it read. “Send an emergency car ASAP, I need to get out of here quicker.” She instructed. She cleared the screen off her window, and looked to her left to see another motorcycle with a man firing at her wheels. Y/N switched lanes and went behind a car, evading the bullets. The man came up behind her and started shooting again. Y/N turned and shot, grunting. “Where is that car!” She yelled, getting impatient. As if on cue, the black car pulled up beside her, the drivers seat opening, the computer already opening it up for her. She stepped on the brake quickly and jumped off the cycle and into the car, the motorcycle crashing into the man and making him fall. Y/N closed the door and huffed. “Auto-drive. I should really come up with a name for you, like Tony did. What about, Saturday?” She asked jokingly. The computer swerved the wheel a little in objection. Y/N laughed, shaking her head. The car turned and pulled into an exit quickly, hoping not to be seen.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker, Hacker Peter part 2

Read part 1 here. 

Peter takes another huge bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs and the buttery toast and thinks, as far as interrogations go, this isn’t too bad.

He’s good, but he’s not brilliant, and there have been a few close shaves. Definitely a few kidnappings which led to interrogations which are nothing like this sunny breakfast at Tony Stark’s marble-top kitchen counter.

Those interrogations had involved steel chairs and tight ropes and a lot of bruises.

This involves pure deliciousness.

It occurs to him, on the fourth gulpful of OJ, that Tony is watching him with unmasked interest.

Peter licks the crumbs from his lips and pauses. “Uh…”

“No, no,” Tony chuckles, “keep eating, please.”

Peter does, because survival outweighs embarrassment and you can never be one hundred percent sure of where your next hot meal is coming from. He mops the plate clean with extra helpings of hash browns, all the while surreptitiously casting his gaze around Stark’s apartment.

It’s nicer than Osbourne’s by a straight up mile. Easily the tallest building in New York, it looks down over the city and sparkles with light as it catches on the surfaces. There’s inbuilt tech everywhere, and it looks so advanced that Peter can’t help but puff out his chest a little at the fact that he hacked it.

Sure, his code wasn’t perfect, or he wouldn’t have been traced. But still. He hacked it!

He finishes his orange juice and smacks his lips together gracelessly, trying to ignore the lingering heat of Tony’s gaze, as he wipes his hand on his jeans. His whole outfit had been provided by Mr Stark, and Peter had hesitantly accepted because being in just his underwear had really imbalanced the playing field.

“So,” Tony murmurs, resting against the counter, arms crossed and looking very at-ease. “A good nights sleep, a nice hot meal, clean clothes. Things sure do look different the morning after the storm, don’t they, kid?”

Peter frowns. “Was last night supposed to be the storm? Because you don’t have anything on me-“

“Hey, hey,” Tony shoots him a look, “C’mon. I know you said you wouldn’t rat, but all you have to do is give me a name. Someone paid you to hack me, didn’t they? You tell me who that is, and you’re off scot-free.”

“I’m already free,” Peter insists, “you haven’t got any proof that I’m ‘The Spider’, okay?”

Tony’s eyebrows knit together and he purses his lips in mild irritation. Peter wonders how far confidence-intimidation tactics have gotten him so far. “Your apartment was crammed full of computers-“

“I like to game.”

“MIT said they only had one student capable of coding like that, and he dropped out two years ago and-“

“That’s what you’re going to use in a court of law?” Peter scoffs, ignoring the sting of hurt at the mention of MIT. He’d loved that school so much- “Wow. I may not have a law degree, but I can promise that’s going to raise some reasonable doubt-“

“Cut the crap, Parker.” Tony snaps, voice thick with irritation. “I know it was you-“

“Billionaire, tech-giant, philanthropist, and omniscient. Quite the résumé, Mr Stark.”

“Little shit-“

“I’m gonna head home, then,” Peter beams, slipping off the stool and heading for the door. “This was really fun, though-“

The doors slide open before he can walk out, and it’s the man who was driving the taxi from last night. Mr Strange. “Peter,” he grins, looking ridiculously put together for so early in the morning. “Are you leaving already?” Strange turns to sigh at Tony. “You’ve already upset him? I thought I told you to play nice.”

“I was playing nice.” Tony huffs, “he’s a little shit.”

“Goodbye, Mr Kidnapper,” Peter waves cheerily, hopping into the elevator, only for Strange to place his hand firmly against the door to stop it from closing.

“Peter,” he murmurs, voice low and pleading, “I seem to remember you saying you were amiable to a trade.”

Tony nods eagerly. “Yeah. You’re saying you won’t give me the name, but you haven’t even seen what I could offer.”

Peter wavers. The smart thing would be to go home, but home to what? All his tech is destroyed and he’ll have to tell Norman and then Norman will know that Tony knows and Peter could be out of a job and-

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and gesturing for them to lead the way.  

____

The look on Peter’s face at the sight of the newly-installed computer lab is enough to make Tony’s dick throb with arousal.

His eyes go obscenely wide, and they flicker over every monitor and wire, and his feet seem to carry him without consent over to processors and ergonomic keyboards. He looks like a kid in a candy shop. It’s the same look Tony gets when his lab’s been re-stocked and he’s itching to try to make something new.

Goddamn. It’s just another quality to add to the list of Peter Parker traits that Tony has found to be completely addictive.

The boy’s young. 22 and almost completely off the grid. He’s got no family, no on-the-grid friends, but ‘The Spider’ is infamous, and Tony can’t believe that it’s a pale, bambi-eyed boy from Queens.

“This set up is so much nicer than-“ he cuts himself off, and Tony looks up with a grin.

“Nicer than..?”

Peter glares at him, but the heat of his stare doesn’t last, because he catches sight of some fancy retina display and is immediately distracted.

His youth is his weak spot.

He’s good, really good, and clearly talented, but he doesn’t have the wisdom that only age will bring.

Because he’s just left his backpack in the guest bedroom, and Strange is looking through it right now. There has to be something incriminating in it. It’s the one thing Peter had taken with him when he’d run, his go bag, there has to be.

Tony doesn’t want to blackmail him. He’d much rather have a nice fair trade, because he’s unreasonably attracted to the spunky little kid, but still. A little insurance is always nice.

“If you gave me the name,” Tony croons, not wanting to startle Peter out of his appreciation, “you could work for me. Someone of your skill-set, nice high pay, regular hours, this would be your base of operations. Anything you needed…”

Peter narrows his eyes. “Would there be a contract?”

Tony smiles, pleased. “Yeah, all legal. No unlawful termination. How long’s it been since you’ve had a steady income? A job you could be proud of?”

There’s wavering in Peter’s eyes, and Tony thinks he might actually have him and the blackmail isn’t needed- when Strange walks in, clearing his throat and gesturing to Tony with a subtle nod of his head.

Tony heads over to him, and Strange bows his head and drops something into Tony’s hand.

“There was nothing in his bag but clothes and a passport. A real passport,” Strange whispers, and Tony grits his teeth a little, but it’s not the end of the world. Parker may actually accept his deal- “But I did find this.”

Tony looks into his hand to find a gorgeous pearl necklace.

It’s antique and expensive and there is no way Peter acquired it legally. It’s gotta be his safety nest for if he’s on the run. A quick pawn and some money to get away. Someone is surely looking for this baby.

“Good,” Tony mutters, trying to keep his voice down, “but we may not need it-“

There’s a sharp, audible gasp, and both men look up to see Peter staring at one of the reflective monitors.

From the way it’s angled, he can see the pearls in Tony’s hands.

“Well, nice timing,” Tony snarls at Stephen, who has the sense to look a little bashful. “Listen, kid, we weren’t gonna-“

“You went through my stuff?” Peter demands, face lovely and flushed and furious. He holds his hand out. “Give it back.”

Tony holds onto the pearls because it looks like a fair deal’s off the cards now. He and Stephen are both in front of the door, but Peter doesn’t look boxed in. He looks angry. “Where’d you get these, Parker? I thought your skillset stopped at hacking, but do you have a knack for stealing too?”

“Those aren’t yours!” Peter cries, and lunges forward clumsily to try to grab them. He misses, and Tony tuts.

“Calm down. I want to give them back to you, but I have to know who hired you. Was it Carlton Drake? The Life Foundation? Was it fucking Wayne Enterprises? Oscorp? Lexcorp? Roxxon?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “This city has a few too many tech companies. And like I said already, no.”

Tony shrugs. “Then you don’t get this necklace back.”

Peter curls his dainty hands into fists, before fishing out his phone. “I don’t wanna have to do this,” he warns, as he lights up the screen with his thumb. Tony frowns as Peter waggles it. “One press of a button and all SI users information is leaked. That sort of personal data loss…” he shakes his head and whistles in mock-empathy. “That’d be awful. I can’t imagine the way stocks would plummet. Can you, Mr Stark? I seem to remember something similar happening to LoweTube. But then The Spider hacked it and now- it doesn’t exist, does it?” 

“When the fuck did you hack my systems again?” Tony gapes, “we removed all trace of your coding-“

“I was on your wifi last night in the guest room, old man,” Peter snorts, rolling his eyes. “Do you know how easy it was to get past your firewalls from inside your ip address? I mean, I was half asleep.”

His thumb hovers over the button and Tony tosses him the pearls.

Peter catches them with a gentleness that makes Tony think they’re more sentimental than monetary.

“Well,” Stephen croaks, face still wary as Peter holds the phone in his hand. “I’m hoping you can forgive us, Mr Parker. We’re still clearly underestimating you.”

Tony cottons on. “He’s right, Peter. I’m sorry. We’re- we’re useless when it comes to hacking defences. We need you on our side.”

Peter looks between them, jaw clenched but eyes softer now that he has his pearls back. “Your systems were pretty shit.”

Tony refuses to snark back a rebuttal, and instead nods. “My offer still stands.”

Peter is silent for a long time, before he speaks. “I’m not going to tell you who hired me to hack you, but I will toughen up your whole system to be pretty much impervious to attacks again. For a price, of course.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, but he can already feel himself agreeing. This is the second best scenario. Obviously, with Peter strengthening his walls it means the kid’s going to be able to build himself a way in to hack Tony whenever he wants- but he can’t see another way. It just irks Tony that he can’t go after whoever it was. He has a niggling feeling it might be Lex but he just can’t picture him actually having the balls. “I���m going to guess your price is fairly high?”

“Don’t worry, Mr Stark,” Peter grins, cocky and far too pretty for his own good, “I only want to be paid in stock.”

___

@darker-soft-starker for being the inspiration and @starkerchemistryy for being my friendship soulmate.

@stark-stark-baby @sbiderslut @lilsoshie @harmonystarker  @lurafita @awesomeimportantfan @the-mad-starker @meymourwhysstarker

[dailyexo]

[NEWS] Baekhyun - 190310 Allure: “How EXO's Baekhyun Put His Identity into Privé Alliance”

"Allure's Devon Abelman sat down with the K-pop star during his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S to discuss how he defines beauty and style on his own terms.

BY DEVON ABELMAN

If I didn't know who Baekhyun was before meeting him in February, I would have thought he was just a random handsome dude I met at a nightclub while on vacation in Los Angeles.

As he politely tells a roving cater waiter offering us mini cannolis, "No thank you," I find myself believing that Baekhyun truly is that guy. I'm fully aware of his claim to fame, but he doesn't look or act the part. For starters, Baekhyun's lids aren't defined with expertly blended smoky eyes, and his lips aren't stained with a raspberry lip tint. Those tell-tale signs of a man with his job description are noticeably missing. Not a single stroke of eyeliner or fleck of glitter is in sight, either (honestly, to my dismay). A part of me hoped we'd bond over our eye makeup.

Makeup aside, Baekhyun carries himself with a quiet confidence that is so unassuming that he seems weirdly familiar and incredibly normal compared to the influencers, actors, and singers milling around us in the private VIP area. He never acts like he's better or more important than any other person there. Instead, he has the affability of the construction worker who waves to me every morning on my way to work rather than the larger-than-life bearing of a superstar from Seoul who effortlessly hits high notes while simultaneously performing powerful choreography. During our interview, I felt like I should ask him about his dog instead of his skin-care routine. If I didn't know who Baekhyun was, I would have wondered why I was interviewing him for Allure at all.

Baekhyun's wavy hair reminds me why this article exists on the Internet and not solely as a story I recount to my friends over text messages. Parted in the middle and styled to have a wet look, his auburn ends are relics of internationally beloved K-pop group EXO's most recent concept. His hair, for all intents and purposes, is the reason why we ended up sitting together in a cushy booth in the back corner of the dimly lit VIP section of a club on a Tuesday night. Trust me, neither of us frequent this fine L.A. establishment, located next to the Museum of Death. You won't even catch me in a club when I'm at home in Brooklyn. To put it bluntly, I'm only in this club talking to a nice guy because he's a member of EXO.

The EXO Connection

If this is your introduction to Baekhyun, please know that EXO is a Big Deal. Among their long list of awards and chart-topping accomplishments, the nine-member group performed at the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics and has racked up more than 100 million views on each of their music videos on YouTube.

By extension, Baekhyun — full name Byun Baekhyun, age 26 — is a Big Deal, too. In addition to being a talented performer with 14.5 million Instagram followers, his bright dye jobs, innovative hairstyles, and experimental eye makeup have sparked beauty trends in K-pop since EXO debuted in 2012. You can, more or less, blame him for the influx of mullets and red-streaked black hair among other idols and thank him for the proliferation of red eye shadow. No matter how controversial or dramatic the looks Baekhyun tries are, he always pulls them off with ease and joviality.

Back to Baekhyun's auburn hair, though. Like most K-pop stars, he constantly undergoes vibrant dye jobs in hues, like pink, silver, and platinum, to fit the group's concepts. For "Love Shot," EXO's latest music video, he paired his newly burgundy hair with a glimmering eye shadow of the same shade and sooty black liner. Now his look is an extremely streamlined version of this.

His current lack of makeup may be a stark contrast from the bold eye looks he typically wears onstage and in music videos, but his skin is just as dewy as ever with the help of a nearly undetectable layer of foundation. His brows are probably lightly filled in, too, but I could be reaching. If anything, Baekhyun's wearing the standard amount of makeup for celebrity men. Just enough to amplify his glow, not enough to make a statement.

Baekhyun's glow is due in part to a consistent regimen; he lists toner, lotion, and moisturizer as the official order. But how many times do you wash your face, I ask, causing a couple of people in the human bubble of managers, publicists, and security guards surrounding us to laugh. Baekhyun ignores their snickers and answers, "Two," in English. (That's right, double cleansing is no laughing matter.) "If I wash my face too many times, I get skin troubles," he adds.

Baekhyun says he hasn't changed up the steps of his skin-care routine in L.A., or ramped up the number of sheet masks he uses. With EXO constantly traveling for concerts and events, "My skin gets used to the environment," he says. "So wherever I am, I use the same skin-care routine."

The Privé Connection

In hindsight, I should have anticipated Baekhyun would present himself in this low-key manner for his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S. In Privé campaigns, he's usually seen as he is now: natural, casual, effortlessly cool. His makeup is minimal; his natural-colored hair looks like all he did was run his hand through it; his outfits are sleek. With all this in mind, I ask him if he could dye his hair any color for the next campaign, what would it be.

How did I end up interviewing Baekhyun in a club, you ask? Let's go back to May 2018. Baekhyun made it onto Vogue's home page when he was named the co-creative director of streetwear brand Privé Alliance. Alongside Danyl Geneciran, the brand's CEO, Baekhyun helps create pieces that "put highlights on the basics," Baekhyun explains to me. He later reveals that he's surprised that almost all of his ideas have been executed.

My favorite part of Privé is how its offerings have a certain fluidity to them, much like Baekhyun's onstage persona. None of Privé's shirts, jackets, and bags are confined to overtly masculine or feminine silhouettes, and the same designs are available for men and women. "It's very important to have everyone be able to wear the clothes comfortably," Baekhyun explains. "Without any official communication, we agreed that [Privé Alliance] is going to be unisex."

With the newest Privé Alliance collection launching in April, the brand invited the public to join Baekhyun for a fashion presentation. The location: the very club we are sitting in. Although he doesn't act like he is (he kept to himself for most of the event), Baekhyun is undoubtedly the center of attention. He is the reason the floor below us is with filled with people from all over the world. Everyone's here to see Baekhyun, not the latest Privé pieces.

The Identity Connection

This is the only question Baekhyun doesn't answer concisely and without hesitation. "I don't know," he says in English. After taking a couple of seconds to think about it, he adds in Korean, "I love the black," adding "simple" in English.

This single word — simple — perfectly mirrors Baekhyun's personal aesthetic. "Basics, but with many little details," he explains. "It’s like you just came out of your house, but it’s still cool." In other words, he's the epitome of "Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on." I ask if he prefers to keep his hair and makeup natural and low-key, too, and he quickly replies, "yes, yes," in Korean.

The fact that Prive's aesthetic is similar to Baekhyun's is intentional. "I put my identity and myself into this collection," he tells me, echoing a line he shared when he made a brief appearance onstage before the fashion presentation commenced. The theme of the collection was his birth year, 1992, with zip-up corduroy jackets and hoodies adorned with '92 in big text.

Another adage he repeats throughout the night is, "Be brave. Be humble." The same words are printed all over the collared white satin shirt he's wearing, layered under a similar navy blue one. After the event, I saw people saying the look recalled EXO's "Lotto" era, back in 2016 when his hair was styled in a similar way and he wore collared shirts with several of the top buttons undone and silver necklaces. Onyx shadow was blended all over his lids back then, though. Fans likened Baekhyun's look that night to a mafia boss. (Seeing those tweets made me laugh, because his charm is far from disarming.) But for Baekhyun, his outfit is more a matter of comfort. "I like how silky it feels," he says. I go on to compare it to pajamas, which makes him chuckle.

Baekhyun doesn't ignore the fact that he typically presents himself with intricate details. Performing, he points out, is his go-to form of self-expression, outside of working with Privé. And let's be real, Baekhyun's performances, which ooze confidence and allure, wouldn't be the same without his stunning hair and makeup.

To borrow a word from Baekhyun, identity — and the way we present ourselves — isn't fixed. For example, the way my best friend describes my identity could be strikingly different from the way my sisters would. The way I dress when I'm going to get a bagel on a Saturday morning (track pants and a T-shirt) is different from how I dress for work (vintage floral dresses) or an event like this (a blue-and-white plaid suit). The way I do my colorful makeup is also evolving, too.

We often see K-pop stars in narrow, controlled situations, though, so we know and define them according to what we're able to see. I'm as guilty of this as the next person, i.e., assuming Baekeyun would show up with eyeliner as bold as my own. When you take a K-pop star out of a K-pop setting, a different side of them is revealed. They no longer have to adhere to a group aesthetic, just their own. We get a glimpse of Baekhyun's at the airport and in the selfies he posts on Instagram, but Privé Alliance has given him a platform to truly show his identity on his own terms.

At that club, I felt like I was being introduced to Baekhyun all over again. Back when I watched EXO's music video for "Monster" the first time, I saw him as part of a carefully crafted package; the second time, I saw him the way he sees himself."

Photo links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Credit: Allure.

[wild-aloof-rebel]

waited so long to say this to you

Five times they say "I do" (and one they don't).

- part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 -

“And now the forecast is saying there’s a thirty percent chance of rain! I know that’s not a guarantee, but it was only twenty percent when I looked yesterday, so it’s getting— What— Why are you stopping? What are we doing?”

Patrick pulls the car onto the grassy shoulder and puts it in park, ignoring the protests of his clearly over-stressed fiancé. He reaches behind the seat to dig through the insulated bag he’d managed to sneak into the car while David was ranting about all the ways Alexis has been adding to his to-do list since she got back last week, emerging with two pints of ice cream and two spoons. He hands the cookies and cream to David whose face does a thing where his eyes go big and wide with surprise while his mouth goes small and soft. It’s a study in contradictions, just like David himself, and it’s one of Patrick’s favorite looks; he cherishes every time he can manage to make it appear.

“What’s this?” David asks.

“You’re stressed about the wedding.” David scowls, as if Patrick is pointing out some dark secret. As if the pitch and cadence and length of his ranting over the last hour hadn’t given him away. “So we’re taking a break from the to-do list. Just for a few minutes,” he adds as panic begins to well up in David’s eyes. “We can have some ice cream, relax, and then we’ll go back home and tackle whatever else needs to be done tonight. So dig in before it gets too melty.”

For a moment, it looks like David might protest, but then he sags back against his seat, pulling the lid from the container. “I don’t like it when it’s melty.”

“I know.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a while, Patrick enjoying his maple walnut, feeding David a spoonful every time he takes a break from inhaling his own. Patrick loves how much David loves ice cream, loves the way his eyes close on the first bite, the way he lets it sit on his tongue for a moment before he swallows, relishing it like he’d forgotten just how good it is. Loves the way the rest of the pint disappears in exactly the opposite way, consumed with manic, childlike glee and gone before Patrick can finish a quarter of his own. Loves the way David will complain later, curled up in their bed with a bellyache, and Patrick will rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss him till it’s better.

“Why here?” David asks when he drops the spoon into his empty pint, looking out the window at Town Hall directly across the street.

It’s where they’re getting married next week. Precisely one week from today, they’ll be inside, somewhere in the middle of their ceremony, perhaps reciting their vows or sliding rings onto each other’s fingers. Patrick thinks he’ll probably be crying, whatever they’re doing. The happy tears will probably start the moment he sees David and won’t stop until sometime around their 50th anniversary. Maybe not even then.

He leans across the seat to kiss his fiancé, sticky and sweet, his cold tongue warmed by the heat of David’s, relishing the fizzy laughter he can taste there.

“Tell me about the rain,” he says when they part.

“It’s only a thirty percent chance.” The words are much less frantic this time, like David could be talking about the weather for tomorrow or some other day that isn’t their wedding day. “It’s probably nothing,” he says confidently, turning in his seat to lean back against the door, and Patrick watches the way his eyes slide over to look at Town Hall again, a soft, wistful smile settling across his lips.

“Probably,” Patrick agrees. “But what’s the backup plan if we need it?”

This is what they do. It’s what they’ve done with the store and what they’ve done in their relationship, and now it’s what they’re doing with their wedding. David handles the dreams. Patrick handles reality. It works for them. It works really fucking well.

“Jocelyn is bringing the umbrellas the Jazzagals used for that Singin’ in the Rain medley. They’re fugly and yellow, but people only need them to get to the cafe, where we can move the reception inside if needed, so it’s going to be fine.” David says the last part like he’s practiced it, and in truth, he has. They’ve gone through their plans, their backup plans, the schedule for the day, the catering menu, their song selections, all of it enough that they both have the whole of the day memorized. Patrick feels like there’s nothing they haven’t prepared for, which is just the way he likes it. Sometimes David just needs to be reminded of that.

“And what if the power goes out?”

“The ceremony will be fine because it’s early enough and there are plenty of windows,” David recites. “There’s an extra case of Jennifer’s candles in the stock room at the store if we need them for the reception. Stevie is letting us borrow that ancient”—he swallows thickly, the next word sticking in his throat for a moment before he manages to free it—“boombox from the motel, which we can use as speakers for your phone. The batteries for it and a portable charger for your phone are already in the emergency bag.”

“You develop a sudden rash?”

“Cold compress and tea tree oil. If that doesn’t work, Alexis’s makeup. If that doesn’t work, Mom’s stage makeup. Absolute last resort: Photoshop.”

“We spill something on our tuxes?”

“My backup sweater and pants are already in my bag. You’ll wear the cashmere sweater I got you for your birthday and those grey slacks that make your ass look so good.”

Patrick gives him a knowing smirk. “You always think my ass looks good.”

“What? It’s a good ass!” He laughs, bright and loud, absolutely beautiful in his happiness, before his mouth twists into something sweeter and shier. “I’m gonna marry that ass.”

The smirk on Patrick’s face grows into a grin nearly too big to be contained. “And here I‌ thought you loved me for my sparkling personality.”

“Oh, I love that, too, but your ass is the real draw here.”

He chuckles and drops a happy kiss to David’s knuckles, brushing his thumb across the four rings he’d put there just a few months ago, the four rings that mean at this time next week David will be his husband. “Is this helping?”

David nods. “Yeah, just… can we keep going?”

They have a long, frighteningly extensive list of backup plans for every worst case scenario they could think of, from the mundane to the unlikely and absurd. Patrick is pretty certain they won’t need to use their backup plan for what happens if a member of the wedding party becomes possessed by a demonic entity, but if it makes David feel better to have a plan just in case, Patrick is more than happy to give him one (isolate the possessed person in the bathroom if possible, remove everyone else from the area if not, send another member of the wedding party to the church to get a priest).

He drops his melting container of ice cream into the cup holder and takes David’s hands to run through the rest of the list. “The caterer doesn’t show?”

“We order delivery from Panucci’s.”

“The cake collapses?”

“There are mini cupcakes in the freezer at the store.”

“The heel on one of your mother’s shoes breaks?”

“Dad’s bringing an extra pair in the car.”

“The officiant doesn’t show?”

“Roland—god forbid—conducts the ceremony from the copy of the script saved on Stevie’s phone.”

“An osprey gets loose in Town Hall?”

“We— What the fuck is an osprey?”

Patrick bites back a laugh, swallowing hard to try to keep it from spilling out of his mouth. He doesn’t do a very good job of it. “A big bird. Like a hawk.”

David glares at him, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward in spite of him. “You were in charge of the backup plans, and I don’t think you made one for that. Now if an ostrich—”

“Osprey.”

“—interrupts our vows, it’s going to be all your fault, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick grins and grins and grins some more, so incredibly in love with this man and the dramatic pout now aimed his way. “Well we wouldn’t want that,” he says, leaning teasingly across the center console, and David drags him the rest of the way in, pulling Patrick over to crash against his mouth, hard and brash as thunder. The heat of it rolls through him, echoing against tendon and bone, leaving them vibrating against one another, David stretching his fingers along the line of Patrick’s jaw, Patrick twisting his hands into David’s hair, dragging him closer, wanting more of him, wanting every good and gorgeous thing he can give him. 

Unfortunately, they’re in the front seat of his car in the middle of the afternoon, parked practically in the center of town. It’s not exactly an ideal place for David to give him anything at all, so Patrick lets all of his buzzing desire settle back down into a gentle hum and reluctantly pulls away.

David watches him go, starry-eyed and slow, like he’s still stuck somewhere in the moment with Patrick’s lips on his, finally coming back to himself with a long blink. “How do you do it?” he asks, a little wrinkle forming on his brow.

“Do what?”

“This.” The rings on his hand flash wildly as he gestures at the ice cream and Town Hall and everything else within view. “How do you always manage to know exactly what I need?”

Patrick shakes his head. “You think I‌ don’t know how to love you?” He reaches across to twine the fingers of their left hands together, one of David’s rings pressing against the place where his own will soon sit, squeezing against the feeling as he tries to find what he wants to say. “Best, I’ve spent the better part of three years thinking about and trying to do little else. I mean, I’m not perfect. And I’m— I’m still gonna get it wrong sometimes.” He looks up into the deep, steady warmth of those familiar brown eyes. “But this—loving you—it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m so glad I’m gonna get to spend the rest of my life doing it.”

Strong hands are dragging him in again before he even finishes his sentence, cradling his face so that David can kiss him long and deep and slow. 

If it’s also a little wet, Patrick pretends not to notice.

“I love you,” David whispers against his lips, and then his cheeks, and then his nose. “Do you know that?” He kisses Patrick’s eyelids and his chin and his forehead. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do,” Patrick says, feeling the warmth of David’s smile in the kisses fluttering all over his skin. “I do.” And he reels his fiancé back in so that he can savor the truth of it on his lips.

Far too soon though, David is leaning away again, just a trace of his panic returning as he asks, “Do you really think there might be an osprey?”

Patrick shakes his head but says, “I’ll make a backup plan just in case.” 

Seemingly satisfied, David tilts in to kiss him once more, laughing and joyous and light, and Patrick thinks that next week can’t possibly come soon enough.

[tommyquackson]

Getting Me a Little Bit | t. holland | part 1

Not My Gif

summary: toms an angel but his life begins changing when he meets one of the most dangerous monsters he’s ever heard of, you. angel!tom and demon!au

warnings: angels, demons and supernatural creatures,

note: new series!!! mostly based of the song Horns by Bryce Fox because i love that song so much.

New York City was bright and alive at 2:57am on a Friday. It was almost the witching hour, which usually meant Tom would be in the safety of his apartment asleep by now, but his mission required him to be out tonight. He wasn’t exactly excited about it, but he was ready to do his job and carry out the will of God.

His mission was to gather info on a supposed succubus at one of the more popular clubs in NYC. As a field angel, Tom was to report back to the higher ups about what they found and then they’d intervene is necessary. He always felt a little disappointed at this aspect of the job, he wanted to be in the action, actually making a difference on Earth.

He straightens his collar as he walks up to the building entrance, there’s a long line to get in but Tom doesn’t plan on waiting, he’s got to get in there and fast. He takes one look at the bouncer and knows that this place is demon infested; only demons hire Leviathans as their bouncers. He gives himself a mental peptalk as he adjusts the bracelet that allows him to hide his angel form. He walks forward, doing his best to exude confidence and authority, despite having neither. The bouncer takes a look at him, eyebrows raising up, but Tom smirks and pulls out a necklace with a pentagram and a few other demonic symbols. He felt dirty just touching it, much less putting it on, but he needed to get in and blend in. The bouncer nodded and allowed him in, saluting him as Tom passes.

The club was much different on the inside, no doubt a few hexes and charms on the place to keep people coming in and staying. The strobe lights moved like hips across the sea of sweaty people dancing way too close together. It almost looked like a blue, red and green lightning storm, with the bass of the music as the thunder. Tom could feel is bones shake and his brain drum against his skull, he pushed it to the side and began surveying. He walked to the bar, looking around for any signs of the main succubus. He orders a vodka, but turns it to water as soon as he gets his angelic hands on it. He sits at the bar for a while, just watching and pretending to enjoy himself.

“You waitin for someone?” A voice drips sultry from his left side, he turns and sees a gorgeous women with large curly hair, and a tiny red dress on. She’s got a childish devil horn headband sitting in her hair, her nails are long and pointy and clearly fake but it adds to the appeal. She’s shorter than Tom but her heels make her legs look deliciously long. It takes Tom a moment to swallow the surprise in his throat.

“Uh, no, not waitin on anyone” He speaks, finally looking at her eyes, which are sparkling with mischief. She smirks and bites her lip, giving Tom a view of her canines that seem almost too sharp for a human. Of course, she’s a demon, maybe she has some info on the succubus.

“So, you’re looking for someone?” She feigns innocence and for a split second Tom almost believed it. He laughs at himself for even letting her almost trick him.

“Something like that, what’s your name” He smirks, trying his best to play her game, after all, he was supposed to convince these blasphemers that he was one of them.

“Y/n, whats yours pretty boy?” She tilts her head to the side, sipping out a drink that has seemingly appeared in her hand.

“Tom, whaddya say we go somewhere we can...talk” He looks down at her. She smiles widely, standing up straight and grabbing his hand.

“I know just the place” She speaks walking off and pulling Tom through the crowd of people dancing. He watches as she dances through people, still holding onto Toms hand, occasionally pushing her body against his when the crowd gets to dense for them to have breathing room. The finally step into the clear, and walk down a flight of stairs, passing couples in various positions on the way down. She pushes open a red door with a cartoon rendition of the devil as a baby.

Tom finally realizes that it’s her, she’s the succubus, now how does he get out of here without becoming a victim.

“Wow, you’re smart, what are you?” She walks backwards against the door, pulling Tom against her body.

“What do you mean?” He nearly gulps but tries his best to remain calm. She rolls her eyes and runs her hands up his shoulders. The act alone made Tom feel like he was forsaking his Father, he holds down the fear in his stomach.

“Oh come on, you found out I was a succubus, not only that, but you were looking for me, so what are you? A hunter?” She locks eyes with him and he feels himself forcing the answer to the forefront of his brain, he can’t help but blurt it out.

“Angel” He mentally screams at himself to stop speaking to this succubus.

“Oo, an Angel, never had one before. This could be fun” She grins then flicks a finger towards her and a chair slides across the floor and Tom is pushed into it. As he goes to protest, rope begins to quickly slither up the chair and tighten around his legs and wrist. She being slowly swaying her hips, causing Tom to focus on her body and only her body. His struggle seizes and he finds himself unable to form a coherent thought that has anything else to do with the succubus in front of him.

“Tell me Angel, d’you come here to kill me?” She speaks moving into his lap, ghosting red lips against his throat. He shakes his head no as hard as he can, he could never kill her, he wants nothing more than to please her.

“You were gonna tell on me Angel?” She says pouting at him, her eyes look so sad that Tom feels his gut wrench. He looks down at his lap, completely ashamed.

“S’okay Tom, I forgive you. You won’t tell on me anymore” She smirks, he shakes his head no again, looking up at her hopeful that he’s pleased her.

“You wanna know a secret Tommy?” She finally stands and walks around him a couple times.

“Please” he croaks out, his voice raspy.

“I’m not a succubus” She giggles dropping down to a squat in front of Tom. His face twists in confusion and he begins sputtering trying to puzzle what she could possibly be, she shows all signs of a Succubus. except the telekinesis, that’s more a demon thing.

“I’ll let you guess, here’s a hint. My daddy’s very high up, and i’ve got a pair of these” She practically whispers out, as she says it, two horns grow from her hair, slithering into shape of the horns on her headband. Her whole eyes have turned red, with flames dancing around. Her pupil had completely disappeared, making her eyes look much bigger.

He doesn’t get it for a second, like a riddle that takes a few seconds to solve. He thinks, running through the list of every higherup demon he can think of until it hits him. Demons don’t have horns, there’s only one that does, Lucifer. She’s the Devils daughter. Y/n smiles at the gasp Tom lets out.

“Still gotta feed on humans tho, mama was a succubus, what can I say” She chuckles and runs her hands up and down his thighs. He licks his lips and stares with his lips parted, breathing fast and hard.

“Ya know what Tom, I like you. I’m not gonna use you to feed. I’m gonna keep hanging out with you though, think we’d make great friends.” She states flicking her wrist, making the rope holding Tom down falls to the ground. She walks and sits on the bed, crossing her legs and bouncing her top foot.

“You’re letting me go?” He stutters, not quite believeing it. Maybe she likes a good chase, to hunt her prey.

“Sure am, gonna visit you all the time though. We can hang out like mortal friends do. Be a real cool duo.” She shrugs.

“I don’t think either of our fathers would appreciate that.” Tom speaks, that’s the longest sentence he’s been able to confidently say to her yet.

“Oh because our daddy’s are so present in our lives, please. You think i’d be here if my dad actually gave a shit about me. It’s clear you don’t wanna do this either, but you’re an angel so you may not question what the almighty says” She speaks the last part in a deep mocking voice. Tom has nothing to say, letting her know she’s telling the truth.

“Well, go on. I’ll see you soon, don’t stay long or I will feed on you. Haven’t fed tonight” She flashes her fiery red eyes and extended canines at him, jumpstarting his heart and making him almost jog up the steps and out of the hot and humid club.

As he steps out into the street, he breathes deep, confusion clouding his brain. Now that’s he’s nowhere near y/n, he realizes how wrong and purely evil this all is. He rips the necklace off of his neck and places his hands on his head. He should immediately go to his supervisors, but what can they do. Heaven and Hell would wage a mighty war of angels killed Satans daughter. He shakes his head, going back and forth through different scenarios the whole way home.

He gets inside his apartment and locks the door, though he decides to skip the protection protocols. He grabs a water and drinks it down quickly. He crawls into bed and the second before he falls asleep, he imagines y/n laying next to him, wishing him a goodnight.

-

Toms nose crinkles in his sleep, he’s lightly awaken by the smell of, pancakes? He squints his eyes trying to figure out what was going on. He stands and slowly creeps down the hall and into his kitchen. His breath stops when he’s greeted with the sight of y/n dressed in leggings and a red bleach stained t-shirt. She’s quietly humming as she flips pancakes and stirs eggs.

“Morning tommy,” She sings without turning around.

“Uh, what’re you doing here?” He mumbles looking around to see if anyone else is present.

“think that’s pretty obvious angel, i’m cooking breakfast” She finally turns around, a glowing smile on her face and of Tom didn’t know any better, he’d think she was an Angel herself, except for the horns slightly peeking out of her bouncy curls, they look messier than last night but beautiful nonetheless.

“I didn’t know you were serious, uh last night” He gives in, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

“Course I was, don’t worry, I made sure none of your superiors were here before I showed up.” She winked at him, placing a plate of food in front of him.

Tom has to admit it looks and smells delicious. He’s not one for eating a lot, he has no real reason but he enjoys it every now and then again. She sits across from him and begins eating her plate.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” She asks so casually, it almost tricks Tom to believe they’re a completely domestic and mortal couple.

“I have to go to a mission report meeting, about the uh succubus” He gulps down his food and struggles through the sentence.

“Can I go with you?” She asks and tom almost chuckles before he sees her face and realizes she’s serious.

“I can’t, how would I explain you?” He says eyes wide, he knows that you’re not gonna back down to going.

“I’m an angel, i’m on a long term mission to prove that there’s demons in the NYC government.” She says matter of factly. It’s obvious she put thought into this.

“They’d never believe that, they’ll want to see your records and-“

“You already know I can be very persuasive. As long as they look into my eyes I can be whatever I want and they’ll believe, all under the assumption that they’ve come up with the info themselves. Angels are egotistical and very easy to convince.” She shrugs and stands to clean her plate. “Also, i’m not asking you, i’m coming either way. Gotta make sure my club stays out from under your radar.” She winks at Tom.

He puts his head in his hands and sighs deeply,

“Fine but you have to” He looks up at her and sees her now dressed in white jeans and a light blue sweater. Her horns have completely sunk into her hair and her nails are now short and bare.

“Change? Way ahead of ya angel” She smiles walking out of the kitchen and moves towards his room. He quickly stands and follows her, grumbling about how much trouble he’s going to be in of her plan doesn’t work.

[artificialqueens]

(treat me nice) never let me go [branjie] 2/15 - pinkgrapefruit

chapter 2. first things first imma say all the words inside my head

previous chapter 1.

A/N - Hi! Welcome back to Pretty Woman branjie style - in chapter one we saw our leading ladies meet each other - who knows what they’ll get up to this time. Special thanks to Frey and Linda (Qtip) for always being my heros/betas/favourite people and Meggie for being my grammar hero Let me know what you think and Enjoy!

*

Vanessa is lying on the floor, eyes transfixed on the show on the screen, when Brooke’s phone goes off. She shoots the Canadian a glare, far too comfortable in the penthouse now to take anyone interrupting ‘The Office’, and to be honest, Brooke almost understands - almost. She’d put on the series to try and smooth over any tension from the bathroom incident and for the most part, it seems to be working, the Latina sprawled over the expensive rug, head propped up on her hands, and mini-bar snacks left forgotten as she laughs and awws at every movement on-screen. It’s Brookes favourite show and it makes her a little fluffy inside to know that Vanessa likes it too (not that anyone needs to know that, she is an ice queen, she cannot let that façade drop).

She has to pull her eyes away from the girl, as the man on the other end of the phone demand for her to read a case file that’s about sixty cases away from being important right now. She sighs, pulls herself into a more upright position and tries to mediate the call with snippets of information she’s sure any idiot could find if they read the file instead of asking her to do the work for them. 

“You okay?” Vanessa mouths, a difficult feat as she tries to chew a chocolate strawberry. Brooke finds it endearing and she nods tiredly, rolling her eyes as the man on the other end of the line yells about business numbers in Japan - she knows exactly what he’s talking about, but finds more joy in being a little bit difficult.

“You?” she mouths back, an eyebrow raised at how at home Vanessa has made herself. 

The girl smirks, “Carpet picnic,” she replies as if that answered the question. It didn’t.

The sigh of relief Brooke lets out when the call ends is audible, and it makes Vanessa giggle a little bit. She visibly relaxes into the armchair, lets the cushions absorb the leftover stress. 

“You want a drink?” the brunette chuckles as she watches the other woman rake a hand through her hair, flipping the parting until the blonde strands cascade over her left shoulder.

“I’m high on life, can’t you tell?”

*

Vanessa’s laughing and, god, if it isn’t the sweetest damn noise Brooke has heard in a while. She moves chairs to be a little closer, a soft smile on her face, as she watches the girl. Vanessa must feel her eyes and mutes the audio, looking at her with a tilted head. Brooke makes the mistake of poking her tongue out, letting it wet her lips, because suddenly they’re dry as a bone. 

The shorter girl pushes herself up from the carpet and crawls slowly towards the chair, holding onto the arms when the reaches it. She gently runs a hand up one of Brooke’s legs, the woman tensing at the feeling of cold hands on her warm flesh. She allows Vanessa to manoeuvre her, wonders where this is going, although she has a vague idea by the girl’s heavy-lidded eyes and quiet smile. The girl removes her skirt and bodysuit slowly, teasingly - allows Brooke to focus on every inch of skin for a second or two before another is unveiled. She’s good at her job, there’s no question about it. She’s wearing a matching red lace bra and panty set, and the way it hides a little too much, but still absolutely nothing starts to drive Brooke wild. 

Vanessa leans forward, breath warm and heavy on Brooke’s neck as she unbuttons the silk work shirt that the Canadian is oh so fond of. She feels the lace of the bra grazing her lower abdomen as the girl pauses.

“What do you want?”

“What do you do?”

“Everything.” She smiles seductively, places a small kiss on Brooke’s left breast before moving, so her face is an inch away from Brooke’s. “But I don’t kiss on the mouth.”

Brooke smiles - confident, not cocky. “Neither do I.”

As Vanessa leaves a trail of hot, lip-gloss kisses down her torso, Brooke leans back on the chair, relaxing into the feeling. She is good at her job.

*

Brooke showers to wash off the feeling of dread that encompassed her the second she realised that she’d paid for sex. She’s not ashamed, she doesn’t have anything against sex workers, not at all, she just hates that she paid for something with someone she actually likes. Maybe. She’s trying not to think too hard about the girl asleep in her bed - knows that this is a hole she really can’t afford to dig herself into right now.

After being pummeled with scalding water for twenty minutes, she decides she’s clean of her various sins and wraps herself in a fluffy hotel towel, letting her long, wet hair fall down her back. She’s just checking her phones when she notices a mop of blonde hair on a lamp. Brooke smiles to herself, clocking what’s happened with a quiet laugh. She paces around the corner to the bed, and her heart grows in size when she sees the short girl, curled up topless, surrounded by a halo of dark chocolate hair. The blonde suited her, the angled bob giving her face a more chiselled look, but this - it looks right. She looks younger and more innocent - gone is any power she may have held in the thigh highs and the wig - this is the real Vanessa.

Brooke clambers into bed as smoothly as she can, trying not to disturb the sleeping woman beside her. She flips, so she’s not facing her, and tries to fall asleep (definitely ignoring the way the smell of girl’s coconut shampoo fills her with a heavenly feeling).

*

Brooke’s taking a call when Vanessa wakes up. The blonde is sat at the table, body covered in a black silk robe, and hair cascading down her back. She’s got a coffee in one hand, a phone in the other, and her half of the table is covered in books, files, and the remnants of salmon, avocado and egg on toast left unfinished on a plate in front of her. 

“I’ll meet Shuga for dinner tonight, it’s fine,” she says, low and full of conviction.

“Brooke, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to meet her alone. It could go really wrong,” comes the voice down the line, he sounds vaguely worried, although anyone could tell that he’s not worried for Brooke. 

The Canadian makes a humming noise, sips her coffee and pauses for a second, a mock consideration.

“Well, you know, there’s always a possibility things are gonna go wrong. That’s why I enjoy this so much.” She purses her lips and waits for a response, which doesn’t seem to be coming.

“Oh, by the way, Ru, about your car.”

“Oh, god. What?” She chuckles at the reaction she gets, can imagine Ru’s fear over his precious car.

“It corners like it’s on rails.”

Ru promises to make the dinner plans as soon as Brooke promises not to go alone - it’s a deal that will benefit them both and they both know it.

Brooke’s call finishes just as the shorter girl walks around the corner, and she watches as the Canadian visibly changes from ’work Brooke’ to ‘relaxed Brooke.’ She watches the way her shoulders loosen up and she clings to her coffee with a little less aggression.

The blonde looks up, smiles a warm, comforting smile and gestures for her to sit down. 

“Brown?” she asks in reference to her hair, eyebrow raised comically.

Vanessa nods uncomfortably but is quickly put at ease by how soft the taller woman is acting. There’s something quietly powerful about this Brooke, and she feels privileged to be able to witness it.

Brooke once again gestures to the spread of food taking up the not-case-covered side of the table.

“Are you hungry? You must be. Why don’t you sit and have something to eat? I, uh, took the liberty of ordering everything on the menu. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

Brooke rambles uncontrollably and Vanessa finds it endearing as she sits down, grabbing a danish pastry. She takes a bite before emptying six sugar packets and a tub of creamer into the black coffee waiting for her. When she sips it, she looks up to see the taller woman with a slightly disgusted look and almost snorts into the drink. 

“Oh, she’s a black coffee girl?” teases Vanessa and Brooke just laughs, feels the bitter taste on her tongue melt into something sweeter.

“So, did you sleep well last night then, Brooke Lynn?” the girl questions, mouth half-full of dough and eyes full of mirth.

She smiles, wipes a drop of coffee from the edge of her cup, before making a face indicative of a little sleep - not enough to feel rested.

“You don’t sleep, you don’t do drugs, you don’t drink, you hardly eat.” Vanessa reels off - still with a joking tone. “What do you do, Brooke? ‘Cause I still ain’t sure.”

Brooke swivels in her seat to face the girl, eyes a little harder than they were a second ago and coffee left on the table. “I’m a corporate lawyer,” she answers, an air of finality in her words. Vanessa tilts her head quizzically.

“Which means…”

“I help companies buy other companies, mergers, finances, stocks - that shit.”

Whatever cloud took over the Canadian, it appears to leave when a cocky grin spreads across the Latina’s face. “I was right!” she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat, and Brooke is inclined to attribute it to the ridiculous amount of sugar she’s piled into the coffee. 

“What kind of companies?” she asks after a short pause - choosing to pile more pastry into her mouth as Brooke sips on a protein shake the waiter brought in.

“Uh, I buy companies that are in financial difficulties.”

“If they have problems, you must get ‘em for a bargain, huh?”

Brooke didn’t expect her to be so interested - even her mother won’t listen to her talk about work at family dinners - speaking of, she should really call her. She adds it to her list of things to do, below ‘find this protein shake recipe’, but above ‘learn how to use twitter’. She almost feels bad, but she doesn’t.

“Well, the company I’m helping someone buy this week, I’m trying to get it for the bargain price of about one billion.”

Vanessa looks a little starstruck., “A billion dollars?” she asks, mouth opened in a mix of excitement and shock. She doesn’t quite understand how anything can be worth so much, never mind how the woman in front of her - looking awfully disarming at this point in time - could do that.

“Wow. You must be really smart, huh?”

Brooke chuckles in response, it’s warm and melodic, and reminds Vanessa of a Tampa beach. They both stand up, moving away from the table and Brooke walks into the bedroom. She half closes the door, and so Vanessa just waits outside - she doesn’t want to intrude.

“I only got through the eleventh grade,” she says, wistfully. “How far did you go in school?”

“All the way through, law school and everything.” It’s muffled, and then Brooke walks back out - wearing burgundy slacks, a crisp white button-down and a matching blazer. She has a tie dangling around her neck and curses lightly as she tries to fasten all the buttons.

“Your folks must be really proud, huh?” She watches as Brooke clamps up again, feels like she hit a nerve - knows she did. Brooke sighs and Vanessa moves on.

“So what do you do with the companies once you buy them?”

“I sell them.” She struggles with the tie and after redoing it twice, Vanessa beckons to her.

“Let me do it,” she requests, although they both know she’s not asking. “So you sell them,” she leads on, tries to distract herself from how close they are, how she can feel Brooke’s hot breath on the top of her head.

“Well, I - I don’t help sell the whole company; I break it up into pieces, and then sell that off - it’s worth more that way.”

“So it’s sort of like, um, stealing cars and selling ‘em for the parts, right?” She sticks her tongue out in concentration - remembers tying ties on her brothers back in Florida.

Brooke exhales a laugh, but it comes out a little more breathy than she would have liked. “Uhuh, but more legal,” she replies.

She pats the tie when it’s done, a strange look of adoration in her eyes. Brooke smiles - she wants to ask where Vanessa learned to do that - it’s fascinating to her how multifaceted this girl is. 

“Mind if I take a swim in your tub before I go?” she asks, hopeful - and who’s Brooke to deny that?

“Stay in the shallow end,” she banters back before slipping on her heels and running to her now ringing phone. Ru’s on the other end and she curses herself for getting so caught up in, in - she catches herself before she can think of an end to that thought. She answers the phone.

“Hello? Look, Ru, I’m just running out the door.”

“I just wanted to let you know, Shuga is all set for tonight.” Brooke lets out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding, but immediately regrets it.

“She’s bringing her protegee, the one she’s grooming to take over.”

“Ah, yes,” She knows who Ru is talking about - can’t tell if she’s happy or scared by the information. “Very intense young woman named Yvie. She plays polo.”

“Look, I gotta say this again. I don’t like you goin’ alone,” reminds Ru, the tone is a warning, but the sentiment is more concern. Brooke would be grateful if she really cared what he thought, if his words didn’t feel a little like paper cuts rather than constructive notes.

Brooke ponders this for a second, unsure of the path to take. She wants to tell him she’ll be fine on her own - because she would be, her mama didn’t raise someone who was scared of a woman who plays polo - but she understands that strategy dictates she take backup. You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, and Yvie is a gun ready to go off. 

In the midst of this, she hears a woman’s voice, softly (but very enthusiastically) singing. It’s coming from the bathroom, and whilst conceding to Ru over the phone, she moves to stand in the doorway. Vanessa is having the time of her life in the bath - eyes closed like she’s in a spa or on a beach somewhere - Brooke assumes she probably thinks she is. The song becomes more obvious as she reaches the chorus and begins to sing (if you can call that singing) Janelle Monae at the top of her lungs. 

It’s like I’m powerful with a little bit of tender

An emotional, sexual bender

Brooke has to stop herself from bursting into laughter down the phone, as her boss witters on about procedures and other things that she’s memorised way before now. She’s too focused on the brunette in her bath to really give a damn.

“Who is that?” asks Ru down the line, and it takes Brooke a heck of a lot of restraint not to say anything incriminating. 

“My waiter is singing,” she replies, hopes he can’t tell how she’s smiling.

That’s just the way you make me feel

“Look, Ru - I know a lot of nice girls,” she says, looking straight at Vanessa, who still hasn’t noticed she’s not alone.

“No, you don’t.”

She sighs, runs a hand through her hair that she’d left out of a restrictive bun today.

“You just concentrate on finding out what Cain is up to. I’m on my way.” She hangs up.

Moving back over towards the shorter girl, she taps on her shoulder (the one not submerged in enough bubbles to entertain an entire kindergarten).

“That’s just the way - “ Vanessa stops with a start, slowly removes the headphones from her ears and tries to regain any of the dignity she’s just lost. “Don’t you just love Monae,” she quips.

“More than life itself,” Brooke deadpans back, pulling over a chair, so she doesn’t have to kneel in the trousers she’s wearing.

“Don’t you knock?”

“Vanessa,” Brooke starts - calm and coolly confident. “I have a business proposition for you.”

The girl sits up in her bath, bubbles barely conserving her modesty, and Brooke feels like she’s invading some sort of privacy, even though the girl made her forget her own name with just her mouth last night.

“I’m going to be in town until Sunday, and I’d like you to spend the week with me.” 

There is no wobble in her voice that suggests uncertainty, she is collected and knows what she’s doing - this is Lawyer Brooke, there is no doubt.

“Really?” The other girl squeals in excitement and the blonde laughs with her.

“Yes, I’d like to hire you as an employee, would you - would you consider spending the week with me?” She laughs again to try and hide some of the awkwardness she is feeling. “I will pay you to be at my beck and call.”

“Look, I’d love to be your ‘beck and call girl’.” Vanessa smirks as she teases. “But you’re a rich, good-lookin’ gal, I’m sure you could get a million girls free.”

“I want a professional,” she replies simply. “I don’t need any romantic hassles this week.”

“If you’re talkin’ 24 hours a day, it’s gonna cost you,” the brunette bites back (there’s no sharpness behind it).

“Oh, yes, of course!”

“All right, here we go.”

“Give me a ballpark figure. How much?” Brooke would pay anything - money isn’t an issue here, but she likes the dynamic they have going. 

 “Six full nights, days too. - Four thousand.”

The Canadian raises an eyebrow at her boldness, she’s impressed, but she’d rather not show it. “Three hundred times six is eighteen hundred.”

“Well, you want days too.”

“Two thousand,” she raises.

“Three thousand.” Brooke gives in there, they could continue all day, but there’s no real point.

“Done.”

“Holy shit!” Vanessa exclaims, smiling at her like she hung the stars in the sky - she lets out a loud whoop before sinking under the bubbles. The other woman just laughs.

[santoteez]

The Dormant Beast - Jongho (4)

Read Part 3 HERE

Part: 4 of ?

Idol: Jongho of ATEEZ

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 4,028 (I was on a ROLL, baby)

Warnings: Slight prejudice and bullying (non-racial and it’s not body shame either), swearing and shit, Mild name-calling,  MC is a Black Female

A/N: I use certain names in this fic that are meant to be similar to real people. It’s just to add to the whole “post-human race.” For example, if this story takes place AFTER the human race expired, it wouldn’t make sense that someone like Lizzo to exist, right? Also, I wanted to change it up bc it’s fun lol. Anyways, Enjoy!

Jongho stood outside the restaurant, annoyed and tapping his foot rapidly against the pavement.

“Crescent would never be this late.” He huffed, glancing at his watch. How did he wind up in a date with Desire? Glad you asked.

The afternoon of Crescent’s attack on Rory, Jongho walked up to his locker to put his books away for the day. The minute he opened it, a letter slipped out. Opening it, he smiled, noticing Crescent’s loopy handwriting.

Can’t walk home together today.  Decided to skip town for a while. Please, don’t look for me. Don’t stop by the house either. I asked my parents to keep my whereabouts a secret. I’m sorry, Jongie. It’ll only be a few days max. I just need to clear my head on things. Shit’s getting too crazy. I won’t be alone, Clips is coming with.

P.S. à You should go on the date with Desire. It’ll do you some good to be around someone that isn’t me. Plus, I need something funny to look forward to when I get back.

Love,

Crescent

Jongho’s smile dropped, furrowing his eyebrows. What did she mean don’t look for her? Where was she going? Why couldn’t he come?

Against her wishes, Jongho sped to her house. The door swung open before he even got a chance to knock.

“Crescent owes me five bucks.” Lunar said, stepping out onto the porch. “She had faith that you wouldn’t come looking for her at least until tomorrow. I knew better.” He sat on the porch swing.

“Of course I’d come. She’s my-”

“Your best friend, which is code for the love of your life?” Lunar glanced up, amused by Jongho’s frozen expression. “I was your age once too, you know.” He said, patting the porch swing.

“I met Solar in high school. A little late compared to you and Crescent, but that didn’t make the feelings any less real.” He said as Jongho sat down. “And when you look at Crescent, you know what I see? I see the same way I looked at Solar all those years ago. That look of longing, wanting what you couldn’t have.”

“What was wrong that you couldn’t be with Mrs. Moon?”

“…She was already married.”

“What? But you said you were in high school?”

Lunar shrugged. “It was a different time back then. When it came to marriage, it was aura over age. This guy with a super-strong aura, an elephant or something, came to her house one day. Asked for her hand in marriage, he had seen her walking to and from school and wanted her for his wife.”

“And her parents just accepted some random guy who had seen her on the street leaving a high school?” Jongho asked incredulously.

“Yes, but please remember it was a different time. Beliefs were different, and because of it, people got away with a lot of things. Of course, he had to prove he was the aura he said he was, as well as proof he could care for her and other things.”

Jongho nodded. “So, if she was married, how did you end up together?”

Lunar smiled. “We started as friends. We didn’t realize when it became more. One minute it was innocent study dates, and the next we were sneaking around behind the bookcases. Word got out that I was getting too close for comfort, and her husband wasn’t pleased. He challenged me to battle, confident that a hyena had no chance against an elephant. Well, he was right. I was beaten to a pulp. He told Solar to follow him; they were going home.”

“And then?” Jongho asked, fully engrossed in the story.

“She told him no. She didn’t want to go with him. He said she had to; those were the rules, after all. She asked him what would be the point if everyone knew she wasn’t happy. She was clearly not in love with him. She stated that he should fight for someone that cared about him. Which is what I had done. So, though it took some time, they divorced and parted ways. Divorces weren’t as accepted back then, so her family shunned her, closing her out. Embarrassed that she would divorce an elephant for a measly hyena. My parents received backlash for the whole situation as well, so they wanted nothing to do with me. We did odd jobs on the weekends, sometimes living out of motels to make ends meet. To the outside world, it seemed we had nothing. But to us, we had everything. We had each other. We graduated high school, moved here to Strongville. We had a small wedding, only inviting what few friends we had. We got steady jobs, putting ourselves through college. Months after graduation, we had Eclipse. Then came Crescent. The whole point of telling you this, Choi, is that when you want something, no matter how unattainable it may seem, you’ve gotta try. There will be obstacles. There might be consequences. Even times when it seems like you’ll never come out on top. But love will always prevail.”

Jongho sat in silence, absorbing the information. “So, that’s why Crescent never mentions her grandparents. But, Lunar, Mrs. Moon and you were on the same page back then. What do I do if Crescent and I don’t see eye to eye? I’ve tried expressing my feelings before, and she shuts me down before I even get a word out. She’s always giving me excuses for why I can’t like her, whether it’s my parents, or her aura, or the stupid hierarchy. What if she doesn’t like me back?”

Lunar chuckled. “Trust me. You don’t have to worry about that.” He said, remembering the constant teasing from Eclipse. “Crescent’s her father’s daughter. Stubborn and stuck in her ways and opinions. But if anyone can get through to her, it’s you. Don’t give up on her just yet.”

Jongho shook his head. “I wouldn’t give up on her for the world.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Lunar smiled. “So, get outta here. She’ll be okay. She has two auras, and that’s two more than she’s had all her life. Let her sort things out. She’ll be back. She can’t go too long without ‘Jongie’.” He said, repeating the nickname in a mocking tone.

“Oh, and Jongho,” Lunar called out before heading inside.

“Yeah?” Jongho responded from the walkway.

“Have fun on your date.” Lunar winked, closing the door swiftly.

Just when Jongho registered what Lunar had said, his phone rang. The contact was listed as “Don’t Answer.”

“Hello?”

“Jongho! Honey, is everything alright? I got a frantic call from Crescent. She didn’t say much but told me to call you. Did you have to talk to me?”

Jongho sighed. Of course Crescent would call Desire, knowing he wouldn’t do it himself.

“Yeah, actually. Are you doing anything Friday?”

-

-

-

Now here he was, dressed uncomfortably in a dress shirt and pants with his ash-colored hair gelled back, standing outside a restaurant where the prices were bigger than the portions, waiting for Desire, who was 20 minutes late.

Just when Jongho had lost all hope, Rory’s Lamborghini Veneno pull up to the curb. Desire’s Giuseppe heels clicked onto the pavement, her emerald green dress contrasting with her fire-red hair. Her smile didn’t match up with Jongho’s grimace.

“Have fun, you two!” Rory called out, raising his eyebrows in amusement at Jongho’s expression before speeding down the avenue.

“I told you to be here at 4:30 because the reservation was for 6:00. It’s 6:45.” He deadpanned.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie! I was going to make it on time, I swear but, then I couldn’t decide between the red clutch or the black clutch. The red goes with my hair, but the black goes with my shoes. So, I brought both!” She said. She squeezed Jongho’s hand when he didn’t react. “C’mon, I’m here now! Let’s go in.”

They entered and were immediately recognized and seated despite the reservation having passed. The waiter sped to their table.

“Good evening, may I start you both off with some drinks?” He asked, flipping open his notepad. “Our special of the night is the Moet & Chandon Nectar Rose, which has been chilled on ice.”

“Ooou, that sounds good, let’s have that!” Desire said, opening the food menu.

The waiter nodded, turning to Jongho. “And for you, sir? The same?”

Jongho gave the man a baffled look. “You realize we’re like 16, right?”

“Oh, Jongho honey, age restrictions don’t apply to us! We’re the future Duke and Duchess!” Desire laughed, shaking her head. “If it’s your first time drinking, I’d suggest not ordering tequila. I made that mistake last year and between you and me, I can’t remember much about that night.” She shrugged.

“So, just because we’re a little stronger than others, rules and law don’t apply to us? Then what’s the point?” Jongho sighed. “Sprite, please.”

“Are you sure, Sir? If not the Moet, we have other options that might better satisfy your palette. A Chateau, perhaps? Maybe even our prized possession, the Dom Perignon? I can guarantee our batch is the most aged, dating back to human times.” The waiter pressed, surprised at the fact that Jongho wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to drink the way Desire was.

Jongho gave him a tight smile. “Sprite.”

“Very well, then. I’ll be back with your drinks and will take your course orders when I return.”

“I can give you some of my glass to try if you’d like? That way you don’t have to order something you’re not sure you’ll like?” Desire offered.

“No thanks, I’ll wait till 21 like everyone else.” Jongho said, opening the menu. “What are you having?”

“A garden salad.”

Jongho looked up at her. “Is that it?”

“Oh, you’re right. It’s my cheat day. I’ll order some shrimp on the side.”

“Cheat day? You work out?”

“Oh no, I’m on a diet because I bought this dress and they didn’t have it in my size so I’m gonna lose weight to wear it.”

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows. “Aren’t you already pretty slim? How much smaller can the dress be? Why couldn’t you just get the dress in your size from the portal?”

“Ugh, no! Only lower auras use the portal. High auras like us should use storefronts. Plus, I’m a 4 and the dress is a 2, so it should fit pretty soon.”

In midst of the technological advances that caused auras to become a thing, the internet evolved into the Portal. The Portal allowed for a more intimate internet experience. For instance, one who may be shopping for clothes or shoes could choose to have their order shipped to their home or a storefront like in human times, or they could choose the Portal, which opens up a large egress on location. This allowed the person to then reach in and grab their item from inside the threshold. It was popular amongst the lower auras who were intimidated from the possibility of running into higher auras and to avoid higher auras from snatching things right out of their carts, which was a common occurrence. Being friends with Crescent, Jongho knew the ins and outs of the Portal and even frequented it himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with the Portal. You can shop right from home, in your pajamas or the middle of the street and get your things right then and there.”

“Exactly, but higher auras are to be seen. Not hidden away at home.” Desire said, as the waiter came back.

“Still better than starving yourself into oblivion,” Jongho said, shrugging. “Are we ready to order?” he asked her.

“Yes! I’ll have a garden salad, hold the dressing, croutons and cheese. And an order of steamed shrimp, hold the cocktail sauce.”

The waiter nodded, turning to Jongho.

“I’ll have the top sirloin steak with roasted potatoes.”

“Will that be medium-rare?” The waiter asked, writing everything down.

“Uh no, well done, please.”

Desire scrunched up her face. “Well done? You’re killing the animal all over again, Jongho.”

“Well…it’s gonna be on my plate so, I hope it’s dead.”

“Where’s the flavor in that, Jongho?”

“The seasoning? Anyways, sirloin, well done, end of discussion. We were already late so I’m pretty hungry. Can we move this along?”

“Yes, right away, sir! Your orders will be expedited.” The waiter said, rushing off to the kitchen.

“Did you learn to eat well-done steak with Crescent? Even your parents don’t eat it like that.” Desire asked.

“How’s that store you opened last year doing, Desire? Is it seeing profit?”

“You’re changing the subject. You don’t wanna talk about her?”

“I finally took you out on a date, which is what you’ve wanted me to do for the past three years, so I’m confused as to why you would,” Jongho said, twirling his salad fork coolly. “So, about that store…”

Desire sighed, sitting up in her seat. “It’s going well, a lot of sales in-store and online, we received a purchase from Teyoncé. You know, the singer with the eagle aura?”

Jongho nodded, impressed. “I’m sure you’ll have members of the Teapot flooding in from all over to buy your products now. They idolize her so much, they follow every trend she portrays.”

“I’m excited. If we continue selling at this rate, we can open up another storefront.”

“Do you offer Portal?” Jongho asked as their food was placed in front of them. He thanked the waiter, cutting into his steak.

“Why would I do that?” Desire asked, annoyed that they were once again discussing Portal.

“Well, you’re targeting the Teapot. You know how many fans Teyoncé has? She comes from a long line of performers, starting from her great-great-great-grandmother. She has fans everywhere, from Strongville to Freehold to Cherrynight Valley. Surely, you can’t expect everyone to come to one store in the middle of Strongville?”

“Anybody who’s somebody will make it. Those who can’t will miss out.” Desire said.

“And the one missing out on money will be you. Exclusivity is for companies with seniority, like the brand on your feet. People are gonna see what it takes to even buy from your store and give up when you can easily offer Portal and have your brand all over the world. Or is Portal beneath you?”

“I just don’t think someone of my caliber should have to settle or beg for sales by lowering my standards.” She retaliated.

“What if Crescent was a fan? She can’t just walk into your store, especially with the way you’ve treated her and her reputation amongst your friends, also your fault by the way. Someone like her would need Portal. Imagine what would happen if word were to get out that you don’t even accommodate for people right here in your town? That’s the thing, though. When you become an entrepreneur, you have to be money hungry. Imagine all the sales you could be making this very minute if you activated Portal.”

The conversation died down, the pair eating in silence. Jongho set his utensils down, finishing his plate rather quickly. He sighed. He’d definitely need to stop at Patty Queen on his way home. The portion was nowhere near enough; he would need at least a burger to be full.

“What do you see in her?” Desire asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Jongho asked. He had heard her but wanted to buy himself some time before having to answer.

“Do you know how much I’ve done to catch your attention? I wear the best outfits, watch my figure, always have my hair done. I’ve wanted to dye my hair so many times, you know why I never did? When we were younger, and I was getting picked on for how bright red my hair is, you defended me. Told me that it suited me, and that I didn’t have to change it. So now, even when I want to change it, I don’t. Because you liked it the way it is.”

“That’s the problem, Desire. You’re always doing things to impress me. Impress others. Haven’t you ever thought I’d like you much more if you were just yourself? That’s what I like about Crescent, to answer your question. Someone living without an aura for that long, especially being scrutinized by the likes of you, would’ve broken down at some point. Not Crescent. She stood her ground, even when she knew you could crush her. She’s seen as weird for liking things like true crime and poetry, but that doesn’t stop her from watching documentaries or geeking over underground poets. She’s unapologetically herself, always. Doesn’t mean she’s perfect, but she’s real.”

Desire laughed humorlessly. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. Pathetic.”

“Now I’m pathetic?”

“YES. You’re pathetic! You could have this entire town eating out of the palm of your hand. You could be getting bottle service, Ferragamo shoes, thousand-dollar threads, the best of the best! But you walk around in Converse and Levi’s just like that inferiority! You’re sitting here drinking a Sprite when you were offered Dom Perignon. You’re eating burnt meat and running the school passively when you can easily be treated like a King with me by your side. But instead, you treat everyone kindly like they were your equal.  All because of that chick. What’s she got that I don’t? It’s certainly not money or strength. I’m tired of being overlooked by her. I’m so sick of it. Grow up, Jongho.”

Jongho stared her in the eye, silent at first. Then, what started as a chuckle turned into a full-on cackle.

“What’s so funny?” Desire asked.

“You know, it’s so fitting that you’re a wolf aura.  I don’t think I’ve ever met a bigger bitch.” He said, taking out $200 from his wallet and throwing it onto the table. “Tell the waiter he can keep the change. I’ll see my pathetic ass out.” He said, getting up.

“Oh, before I go.” He turned back around. “I already wasn’t interested in you romantically, but after today, you can forget about this whole Duke and Duchess narrative. I wouldn’t marry you even if there was a gun to my head. And all that whining you just did? The one that has growing up to do is you.” He said, walking out of the restaurant to his car.

“Crescent, Crescent, Crescent.” He sighed, unlocking his car door. “You owe me big time.”

-

-

-

-

Meanwhile, Crescent panted, leaning against a tree. She’d been training with Eclipse all day long, same as she’d been doing since Wednesday.

“Come on, Crescent. Again.” Eclipse said, sweat dripping down her neck and into her sports bra.

“I told you, Clips. I can’t activate the tiger aura on command.”

“And I told you, AGAIN. In order to activate your aura, you must become one with the animal. You have to feel it. You can’t just clap or jump and become a tiger or a seal. It has to stimulate your senses.”

Crescent sighed, momentarily regretting bringing Eclipse along. The older girl had done nothing but boss her around day in and day out, attempting to train the younger girl aurally.

Crescent closed her eyes, envisioning a seal in the middle of the ocean. She felt a rush of warmth against the frigid breeze.

Lunar and Solar owned a log cabin on the outskirts of town, at the beginning of the woods. It was far away enough that Jongho couldn’t sniff them out, but close enough to rush back home in case of an emergency.

Crescent opened her eyes, the usual dark brown replaced by a dark abyss, similar to that of a seal.

“Good,” Eclipse said. “Now, the tiger.”

Crescent took a deep breath, envisioning a tiger in a vast grassland. But, just like all the times before, the tiger was laying down in the grass, fast asleep. Nothing Crescent did woke it up.

She shouted in frustration. She envisioned it perfectly. What was she doing wrong?

“Okay, let’s take a break. Maybe it’s having an off day. Could it be the climate?” Eclipse asked, taking a seat next to Crescent. “But, tigers and cheetahs are kind of similar, and I can activate my aura out here just fine. But it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Together.” Eclipse pulled Crescent in for a hug.

Just then, Eclipse’s phone rang. Crescent rolled her eyes. Her phone had been going off nearly every hour since they had reached the cabin.

“Can you stop answering your booty calls? Just for ONE night?” Crescent sighed.

Eclipse smirked. “Why? Am I making you miss Jongho? Maybe he can come over after that date you forced him to go on. I heard from Rory he took her out after all. Still don’t know why you made him take another girl out.” She said, typing something into her phone.

Crescent huffed, looking away at the mention of Jongho. The truth is, she wanted to be sure Desire didn’t stand a chance. She felt that Jongho never gave much thought to the idea of him and Desire because Crescent was always around. So, she decided that isolating herself and putting them both in a situation without her would be the only way to know for sure where Jongho stood. It was a weird, convoluted plan, but Crescent wanted to be positive her feelings wouldn’t be met with heartbreak. If she returned and they were together and in love, she’d keep her feelings to herself and move on. If not, she’d confess once and for all.

“Okay…don't be mad.” Eclipse said, pulling Crescent out of her thoughts.

“No. You’re NOT leaving me here alone again tonight.” Crescent glared at her sister.

“It won’t be the whole night! Jared is a jackrabbit aura, I’ll be back in like an hour tops! And that’s if I stroll!”

“Eclipse, gross! And still, no!” Ever since Eclipse turned 18, Crescent was plagued with hearing about her sexual endeavors with nearly half the graduating class. And, being the blunt person she was, Eclipse held nothing back. There are people Crescent couldn’t even look in the eye anymore after hearing her sister’s stories.

There was an awkward silence between the two, until Crescent saw the amber glint in Eclipse’s eyes.

“Eclipse, I swear to everything I love-”

Crescent couldn’t even finish her sentence before a gust of wind ran through Crescent’s curly, auburn locks.

“ECLIPSE!” Crescent shouted, smacking her hand against the bench in frustration.

And that’s when she felt it. The tiger suddenly jumped up in her envisioning, running rampant. Crescent took off too, her eyes turning a bright amber. But something was different this time. A cheetah appeared next to the tiger. The two cats ran in unison, their astral projections blooming from Crescent’s chest like sun rays. She had the speed she needed to reach Eclipse, and that she did.

Once she was close enough, she pounced at the older girl, the strength of her tiger aura allowing her to overpower the cheetah aura of her sister.

“Why. Do. You. Keep. Leaving.” Crescent gritted through her teeth.

“Crescent. Your aura activated!” Eclipse exclaimed, completely disregarding her sister’s death mission. “But, how did you catch up to me? Tigers are fast but no way are they fast enough to reach cheetahs.”

Crescent sighed, falling back onto the dirt. “Because I’m using both.”

“Woah, wait, what?” Eclipse asked, puzzled.

“The tiger is awake, and the cheetah is right next to it. They ran together, and that’s how I was able to catch you.” Crescent said, describing the envisioning.

“Crescent, did you just hear yourself? Not only do you have THREE auras, TWO of them work TOGETHER. I’ve heard of multiple aura holders, but never have I ever seen anything like what you just did. Double aura? Dual aura?” Eclipse shook her head. Her phone rang again. She fished it out of her pocket, silencing it.

“So, if not even you know what’s going on with me, what happens next?”

“That’s the scariest part, Cres. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Stephie here! Don’t wanna make this longer than it already is, but just checking in. Jongho finally told Desire off, is anyone relieved? Anyways, please look forward to the next chapter. Happy Reading!

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Sex Contract - Chapter 25 [Final]

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Thank you to everyone who has been reading along with this story. I’ve grown so much as a writer from this story, but I’m glad so many were still able to appreciate it along with me! It’s been a very cliche and dramatic journey, but a fun one all the same! Xxx

Chapter 25 – Changmin’s POV.

“No way!”

“Come on Changmin, it makes sense to!”

He shook his head, reaching out for the pen within Kaia’s hand and taking it from her. “No way are we doing this!”

“Why not? It worked in the past.” She pouted for a moment and then grinned, darting under his arm and racing over to her desk. Changmin chased after the British woman, trying to grab the new pen within her grasp.

“And how well did it work out for us huh?”

Kaia smiled. “Look at us now, we’re together, doesn’t that mean something?”

“It means we got lucky this time around.” Changmin eyed the pen and tried to get it again. “Besides for a while there we were both miserable because of the contract. Why on earth should we create another?”

“We were miserable because we both fell in love and didn’t confront the issue, not because of the contract itself,” Kaia corrected pointedly and dashed back to the pad of paper on the kitchen bench. Changmin followed her, resigning to her point momentarily.

“Fair call, but it caused a huge mess. I’m not going to sign another contract with you.”

“Not even in marriage?”

Changmin’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “That’s a bit of a leap forward. We’ve been dating two months, not two years, Kai.”

“So in two years I should expect a proposal?” she teased and Changmin shook his head rapidly, her infectious laughter filling the room. “Teasing you is just too easy these days! And everyone calls you the witty, sarcastic one!”

“Guess I’ve met my match then,” Changmin stated, moving closer to the caramel haired woman and yanking the pad away. “Let’s allow our relationship to just travel its own course yeah?”

“You were the one so keen for a contract last time. Besides, I’m not just dating any guy but Shim Changmin of TVXQ. Give me back that pad!” She yanked it from his hand and began writing furiously, intriguing Changmin.

He leaned over her shoulder and gaped. “No spending time with female celebrities? How is that fair? It’s part of my job to be around them!”

“Should I remind you of Kaori Kimura or have you forgotten her?”

“Kaia, that was one incident and she and I have no connection anymore!”

“Fine, no accepting fake relationships for the purpose of career opportunities then!” she corrected the first stipulation on the paper and Changmin decided to add his own, smiling as he wrote it down. “I’m not allowed to hang out with male celebrities? I still have my part-time job at SME Min; surely I’m allowed to have interaction with them.”

Changmin shook his head. “Strictly teacher-student only.”

“Fine, but there are other men out there other than SM idols.” Changmin groaned at her confidence and took the word celebrity away from her clause. Kaia rolled her eyes.

They continued to add more and more ridiculous stipulations onto the piece of paper, all outdoing the previous one. Eventually, they were laughing too hard to continue, Kaia resting against him as she tried to settle her laughter. Changmin pulled her into his arms, lifting her up onto the bench so they were closer in height. She smiled, leaning down to capture his lips and Changmin savoured the taste of her, knowing he would never get sick of kissing his girlfriend. Even though it was early days into their actual official relationship, they already were too accustomed with each other to have issues that would make him think this was going to be a short term arrangement. He needed no contract to tell him to avoid the other female species in the world. As cheesy as he had become, the only woman that Changmin was interested in was already in his arms. Though he decided there was no harm in keeping Han Ye Seul as a fantasy interest.

Kaia moved away from him and turned back to the paper, ripping the top sheet off and then picked up the pen again. She began to intently write once more and for a few minutes, Changmin waited to see what she had put down. Handing it to him and hopping off the bench, Kaia waited for his response.

“To always be honest, to talk out our issues, to not get jealous of the people within our lives, to continue doing everything we did as friends, to enjoy the physical elements of our relationship, to always love each other and eventually get married and start a family.” Changmin looked up from the list at the expectant woman. He smiled. “Is this our new contract?”

Kaia nodded. “If you can handle it.”

Changmin placed the pad back on the bench and shook his head. “You forgot something.”

“I did?”

“Yup, but don’t worry I’ll add it on.” He then scribbled it down, stepping aside so Kaia could see.

“To tell the world we’re dating?” Kaia blinked a couple of times. “I thought we decided to keep it a secret for now, because of my new job at Vogue Magazine. People might see my position gained as a result of being with you.”

“That was won on your own hard merit working at Korea Star. Minah was right to get you writing under your real name, it opened the doors into real editorials for you.”

Kaia nodded weakly. “Do, do you really think we should do it?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever proclaimed to my fans that I want them to love me forever.” Changmin grinned. “In fact, you’ve always pointed out to me that I need to treat my fans better, how better than telling them the truth?”

“You still don’t get what I mean by that!”

“Don’t you want to be like Abby?” Changmin asked, and Kaia’s eyes flashed in recognition. “She was dating Junsu for six months and now it’s out. Do you want to wait until then? That’s another four months of trying to schedule things in private places and not get caught in the same car. People have been following me more since Kaori too.”

“You bring up Junsu so easily,” she observed and Changmin smiled. “It is tempting to get it out in the open I guess. Your management will have a field day though.”

“Manager hyung will smooth it over, he has a thing for you, remember?”

“Speaking of SM, I need to get to the office for class.” Kaia stepped away but Changmin grabbed her wrist. “What?”

“We haven’t signed and dated it yet.”

Kaia laughed. “I thought you didn’t want another contract?”

“I like this one. It’ll be easy to keep to.”

“We thought the last one was too in the beginning.” Kaia laughed and signed it all the same. Changmin took the pen and scrawled his signature, chuckling as Kaia slapped his arm. “Not again Changmin! I told you last time to stop signing it like an autograph! Now we won’t have enough room for additional clauses!”

“I don’t plan on making any more,” Changmin told her and kissed her forehead. “Come on, I’ll take you into work.”

“You’re not wasting any time with the last stipulation,” she replied and they headed out to his car, driving to the SME building in comfortable silence. They continued together to the classroom, Changmin’s eyes darting towards a door on the opposite wall. A smile grew on his lips and he yanked Kaia back to it, pushing her inside before locking the door behind them.

“Really Min?”

Changmin pressed her up against the wall and kissed her briefly. “Maybe we could try and keep it on the low a little longer.”

“You like this room a little too much,” she mentioned, though her hands were already unbuttoning his shirt. Changmin grinned before kissing her again; feeling excitement in the room where everything had truly begun. If he had read all the signs back then, Changmin would have realised he was already falling in love with Kaia the first time they had sex in here. It was funny just how blind he had been to everything back then. With his newfound clarity on everything, Changmin was certain that whether they kept their relationship under wraps for much longer or not, this room would always be one of creating memories.

Strangely enough, Changmin was also anticipating meeting all the clauses of the new contract with Kaia. It held its own challenges, but he was certain keeping to it would be easier than other aspects in his life. He liked that he now had a different future ahead of him to share with the woman he wanted to protect.

He wasn’t just Shim Changmin, one half of TVXQ anymore. He was a man in love with the best type of woman - his best friend.

The End.

_________________

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[mininky]

Tainted Souls (Jin)

Summary: Vampires were no longer a myth, the world knew that they were very very real. The world wasn’t ready for it, and they really weren’t ready to find out that all those whacky conspiracy theorists finally got something right. A lot of celebrities were, in fact, undead. Including BTS. Touring constantly, always on the move it was painfully difficult to ensure that they received their meals. Until their manager learned of a business that specialized in vampire fine dining.

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), biting, multiple orgasms, swallowing of bodily fluids, mentions of sex for pay, no condoms (don’t do that!)

Series list: Prologue, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook

   Working for Tainted Souls hadn't been an easy decision for you, but it had turned out to be easy work. You had lost your job and you had far too many bills to pay after moving to Seoul. You needed a job fast, and your roommate introduced you to her job. A strange world that even after Vampires had gone public still held their own secrets. A private fine dining experience that at first, you assumed was synonymous with sex. It wasn't, at least not necessarily. Each person who was employed there had their own menu, and along that list was what was and wasn't up for purchase. Sex was most certainly an option for some, but it wasn't for you. It had never been for you. The only thing listed on your menu was your flavor and that you only allowed to be bitten from the wrist. (It's not that you were ashamed of your job, but wearing scarves constantly to hide obvious bite marks got old fast. And if you didn't hide it unwarranted questions from strangers were sure to happen.) Apparently, you were chocolate sweet with hints of citrus, whatever that means. It could be worse, you could just be 'bitter and salty' but, hey this was a blood description and not how the world sometimes made you feel.    A year after working there the whole job morphed into something else entirely. While before you only went to work about once a week for a filthy rich undead person to drink from your wrist and could then go happily back to your apartment now you were a 'personal assistant.' Meal on wheels. A walking blood bag for just one person. Big Hit needed to figure out a way to ensure that BTS was well fed and up for work, and after a massive infected blood scare and terrible synthetic blood they struck a deal with Tainted Souls. You were one of the seven total girls that now worked for just one client. You were assigned to Jin, and you wouldn't have it any other way.    You could still remember when you interviewed for them. It had been a surreal experience to say the least. You had already been at Tainted Souls for a good amount of time and while you weren't the most popular, probably due to your limited menu, you did have your regulars. So getting this chance sounded interesting, nothing to lose after all, right? If you didn't get the spot you would still be at Tainted Souls. You realized how little you had thought through this when you stepped into the interview room at Tainted Soul and were met with Jin and his manager. It was painfully formal, all polite niceties about your blood type and your home life and if you had availability to travel. Jin didn't speak much, although he did make some comments about working with his 'great beauty.' Admittedly, the two of you weren't off to a good start, a strange line of business had tried to be drawn from the start but it was done so feebly. Somewhere between awkward formalities, terrible dad jokes, excruciating puns, and of course letting him drink your blood, things started to change.    You had tried, longer than most of the other girls, to keep this strictly business. He knew during your interview that you weren't, as some unsavory types call it, a blood whore. Not that you had anything against the girls you worked with who did sleep with their clients (although you would still never ever call them that taboo name that the vast majority of society slung about and threw into their faces) it just wasn't for you. You were there to help feed him, and that was it. Until it wasn't. He became a friend easily. His warm demeanor, megawatt smiles, god-awful dad jokes, and boyish charm made it impossible to not love him. Add his face and broad shoulders into the mix and it's lethal. It took four months, two weeks, and five days before the two of you moved beyond the blurred lines of 'friend who gets paid to feed the other one' into lovers. Not that the two of you were counting anymore. A little over a month later after finally becoming lovers and you couldn't believe that you had waited so long. It was easy being with Jin, as natural as breathing. He was your friend, your confidant, and now your lover. A bond originally stemming from work forging into a deeper, softer, emotional and physical bond.    Aside from being with Jin, and even befriending the rest of Bangtan, there were some serious perks to the job. It wasn't always easy, your life now revolved around their schedule. You were rarely home when they were touring, and while it could be painfully tiring and limited you to a small bubble of people, it was also one of the best perks. You got to see the world with them, experience things that you would never have otherwise. Today was one of those days. Far away from your apartment, nestled deep in plush hotel blankets next to Jin as you look at him sleep.    You've learned a lot about him over the last few months. Even though eating fills no need he still enjoys cooking. It brings people together, it's about giving and joy, but most importantly it's something normal. And with everything else going on in their lives he has to cling to those small moments of normalcy to not go completely insane. You've also learned that he is indeed a 91 liner and that he was turned in his freshman year of university, and that he isn't actually the oldest in the group if you go by birth years. The title of the eldest actually went to Yoongi, Jin was the second oldest although that was still kept secret to the rest of the world. Really most days you were suprised that he was the second eldest, his antics and playful demeanor often made him seem so young in the best of ways. He wasn't some ancient vampire that held the world's secrets. In fact, really you saw him as a human with a lot of food allergies that led to a (very) particular diet and retractable canines. You've learned that beyond his love of pink, and all things cute his heart was just as soft. Sure he was confident, and sure he seemed at first glance to just be quirky fun but he was a big softy. He took things to heart, he tried damn hard to be the best he could be and when he didn't meet his own standards or sometimes even others he took it hard. But he was also one of the first ones to build others back up, one of the first to offer comfort and warmth to those in need. But what you've loved most to learn about Jin is how adorable he looks when he's sleeping. It might sound simple, or silly, but it's a rare sight. One that you are few to have the pleasure of knowing it so well, one of the few people who is blessed to see it so often, and as Jin reminded you often the guys really couldn't care less what he looked like when he was sleeping when you told him one morning how lucky you felt. And then he kind of ruined it by saying something about 'of course his face is a blessing.' Typical. (You wouldn't have it any other way though. After all, he was right. Not that you were about to admit that anytime soon.)    Even though he offers no body warmth you can't help but bury your face into his broad chest and snuggle into him. He smells like fresh laundry and home and it's comforting, even if it is like hugging a popsicle. "Morning." His voice is husky from sleep, a slight raspiness.    "Morning." You glance up to see his plump lips grinning down at you, his eyes still heavy and bleary. There's no better place to be than here, no other way you'd rather start your day.    "You know...we finally have a day off today..." You can tell by the way his eyes flash crimson and the smirk forming the intentions behind his honey laced words.    "Mmm. Do we?" Your lips ghost over his as you shimmy up, your nose brushing his.    "Mhmm. You know what I think we should do?" His hands roam under your shirt, thumb stroking at the soft flesh of your stomach.    "I could think of a few things." You give him a coy smile before finally closing the small distance, lips touching softly as you press your hands onto his chest. It's lazy, languid, and gentle. Just like this lazy Sunday morning. There's no urgency, just small pecks of adoration. You feel his hands rubbing small circles underneath the swell of your breasts and as you let out a small whimper of need he's quick to tangle his tongue with yours. Slowly you open your eyes back up as you break away.    "I don't want to leave the bed today." Jin shifts the two of you, caging your underneath him as he straddles your hips. He peppers small kisses along your jaw before moving to your neck, featherlight touches turn into soft hickies the further down he moves.    "We don't have to leave the bed. I can just get room service and stay here all day." He chuckles before nipping at your ear. It's playful at first, but soon he's rolling the lobe of your ear between his teeth and you can't help but arch into him. You never knew that your spot was your ears before Jin, and it's something he uses on you all too often. It's your kryptonite, and he's been known to shamelessly use this knowledge to bribe you into his doing.    "Today is about you. I've been too busy to play lately, and I've missed you." He pulls his face back up to yours, foreheads touching as he grins at you. God, he's so beautiful. Especially with the way the soft morning light makes his skin glow and the way his eyes flash that subtle red of desire at you.    "Jin, I've been with you every day since the tour started. We've been together more often than when we're back in Seoul."    "Yeah, but I mean I've been working. Plus, when I'm not I'm usually with the cock-block squad." You can't help but giggle at his new nickname for the guys, he's not wrong but it's not their fault that they cock-block you. Work is work after all. But it has been a couple of weeks since the two of you got to spend a decent amount of time away from other people.    "Well, now we have all day together." You grin at him before he presses another kiss on your lips. His tongue runs over your bottom lip and laps into your mouth. You can feel the edge of his canines grazing across your tongue, a fresh wave of arousal at the sensation shoots straight to your core. He's the type to take things slow, but you can feel yourself already falling apart. It's so easy to with him, the way he moves without rush, the way he always leaves every part of you touched by him always leaves you a shaking mess. And you know that even if you try to beg he won't budge.    When he pulls back to pull off your shirt you can't help but watch the silver string of saliva follow him and break away. The feeling of the cool air hitting your skin has goosebumps rising and your nipples perking up, his eyes are glued to them before he slowly wraps his mouth around one bud. He has one hand latched around the other nipple, rolling it and tugging at it between his skilled fingers. The other hand is slowly snaking his way between your panties. Your mind is consumed with how close you are to feeling relief, wetness is pooling to the point of discomfort as he draws small patterns around the band of your underwear. So close, so close. Small whimpers are pouring out from your frustration, and maybe miracles do exist after all because for once he relents to your needs.    He's slow to peel off your underwear, a smirk is plastered on his face as he looks at your glistening arousal pooling onto the bed sheets. "So wet already? Just from kissing?" It's clear he doesn't expect an answer though with the way he's diving in between your legs like a man starved being presented a five-course meal. In a way, you technically were to him. And he made sure that you knew that with each swipe of his tongue, with the way he flicked your sensitive bundle of nerves that had you arching your back and breathless moans tumbling out of you. The hum of the hotel AC, the rustling of bed sheets, the lewd sounds of his tongue working on your heat, his grunts, your moans all of the noises seemed to be too much for you. It was tipping you over the edge, the way your ears were filled with the sound of sex and your body was taut with tension at the need to cum. "Jin, Jin I'm going to cum." His mouth moved away as he inserted two fingers slowly, curling up at just the right spot. "Please, bite me Jin!" He watched for a moment, his eyes boring into yours and a murky red haze clouding over as his lips pressed down onto your thigh. You're so close to tipping over into bliss and you know he can feel it when his fangs graze over onto the pulsing vein of your thigh before he's sinking them in. It's all you need to tumble headfirst into oblivion, toes curling and neck thrown back as you feel his tongue lapping up your blood greedily.    A mantra of his name falls from your lips. Before you had always associated vampire bites with pain, a tolerable pain akin to a needle prick. But that was before Jin. Now it's unlike anything else, it's just addictive for you as it is to him. It brings the two of you closer than anything else, a mixture of need and pleasure brought to new heights together. You feel your body shaking as your thoughts clear, the sound of Jimin groaning as he finally pulls back and pulls his fingers out of you has you slowly opening your eyes.    "You always taste so sweet. I can never get enough of you." His chin and lips are still glistening with your arousal. You stare intently as his lip runs over the remnants of your blood before sitting up and pulling him into a needy kiss.    You can taste yourself on him, your own release and the slight tinge of iron. Your not as patient as Jin, you're always the more needy one to feel him and when you feel his dick twitch under your palm you can't help but try to speed things up. Your hips buck up as you yank down his sweatpants, his dick slapping up to his navel and leaving a trail of precum in his happy trail.    "It's been too long, I want to treat you too." You try to flip him over but he's far stronger and far more stubborn.    "Another time. Let me just feel you, I want to be inside you. Don't you want that too baby?" You're weak for him when he calls you baby, and you can't help but ease back into the comfort of the pillows as he pulls his sweatpants the rest of the way off. Jin is painfully handsome, and he knows it, but what you love best is seeing him bare. No makeup, hair messy, his softly defined muscles. Him in just his natural state, that's your favorite way to see him. Your thoughts grow fuzzy with need as he kneels back onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hands as he licks his lips. Devilish intent lingers in his eyes, it's at stark odds with the angelic smile of content plastered on his face.    "Jin, please. Please, Jin I need you." You're not above begging for him if it means you'll finally get to feel him. One orgasm is never enough, not with him. It's just the start, and you know he'll spoil you today for many more. If he would just start-"Aahhhhh!" The satisfaction is immediate, the way he fills you up can only be described as exhilarating. He moves slowly, and you can feel every inch and every ridge as he moves. It's dizzying, it's perfect, it's as captivating a feeling as Jin himself. A physical feeling that brings out every intrinsic feeling towards him, simple and complex. Hard, fast, and slow all at the same time. Soft and tender, with hints of darkness nipping at the edges blurring the lines softly. It's just like Jin.    "God, you're so beautiful. I could look at you all day." He snaps his hips into you, burying himself further in as he listens to your moans. You can't help but writhe under him, your hips twitching with need as he stills once more. You feel so full, but you're not content. Not yet, you need to feel him move again. Desperation is quickly clawing at you, the coil of need building up. "Say my name baby."    "Jin, Jin. Please..." Another snap, he pulls himself all the way out this time before sliding back in slowly and burying himself all the way in. His hands slide off your thighs and up to your taught nipples, fingers toying with them gently as he continues his pattern. Slow, deliberate, and just hard enough to have you toying at the edge. It's all too much, and that band inside you is about to snap apart with each thrust. His name is a mantra of need, it's the only thing you can repeat. You can feel him everywhere, reaching deep inside and pushing you closer to the edge before he's almost completely out of you only to repeat it all over again.    "Look at me baby, don't close your eyes." When did you even close your eyes? You open them blurrily, tears clouding your vision as you look up at him. "I want you to watch me. Cum baby, let go." One of his skilled hands is quick to your clit and you feel everything fall apart. Your shaking, the orgasm wracking through you and threatening to tear you apart with its force. It's blinding, it's all consuming, it's fireworks and flashes of something warmer and fuzzy. You can hear you screaming out his name, but it's almost an out of body experience.    It leaves you breathless by the time you're coming back down. The feeling of his hips relentlessly pushing into you, his lips brushing soft kisses over your neck has you panting. It's almost too much, your orgasm has left you even more sensitive. Each time he pulls out and glides back in you can feel your sanity falling back into desire.    "You're so beautiful when you cum baby, you know that? I wish I could wake up to this every day, I wish I could feel your wet pretty pussy every night and every morning. God, you're so perfect." His words have you tightening around him, constricting him and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as his thrusts pick up speed. It's his telltale sign that he's close, his words getting filthier with each push that hurtles him closer to his own completion. The sound of skin on skin, his small moans of satisfaction bring you the greatest of pleasure. "You drive me fucking crazy." He pulls out and slams back into you, a loud moan falling from your lips as his hands fall back on your sensitive clit. "One more time baby, just give into me one more time."    It's almost painful this time, you're swollen and sensitive but god, you want to give him one more. It's captivating, to look into those murky lust filled eyes and see that it's you doing this to him. Relentless circles on your clit and steady snaps of his hips have you crying out his name. Toes curling, fingers scratching into his back, nirvana. "Jin!" You can feel him growing sloppy, his hips jerking into you at a frenzied pace at the feeling of you clamping around him.    "Where do you want me to cum?" His words are breathless, urgent.    "Wherever you want Jin."    "Fuck, fuck. Let me cum in your mouth, please? Oh fuck." He's pulling out quickly, his hands wrapping around his base as he watches you clamber up onto your knees. You respond by opening your mouth, your pink tongue falling open right at his tip. "God your so perfect, so fucking perfect." You gaze up into his eyes as he jerks quickly into his mouth, it's only a matter of seconds before you feel his warm seed start to fall into your mouth. Long strings of white coating your tongue, your lip, and a dribble on your chin. He watches you with glee as you swallow everything down, your finger scooping up the remaining tangy remnants before slowly licking everything off maintaining heated eye contact. You were never comfortable with anything like this before, but with Jin it makes you feel so wanted. So loved, so needed, so right. "God, the things you do to me. You little minx."    "All for you Jin." He gives a wide smile before tackling you back onto the bed. Soft kisses are peppered around your face amidst your giggles. Really you were never sure how this would play out. At first, it was just a job, a very well paying job. And then it became more, Jin became a friend and then your lover. Some days you were anxious about that, about how dating him would play out. But on days like this, when he held you closely your worries melted away. The best thing you ever did was take that job at Tainted Souls. You might be a walking blood bag in some unsavory eyes, but to Jin, you were just you. And really, isn't that all that matters?    "You know I love you, right? You're perfect, you're amazing and I'm the luckiest guy in the world." Jin planted a light kiss on your lips before pulling away to grin at you. You smile up at him, your thumb running over his kiss bitten bottom lip before freezing at the sound of two sharp knocks on the door.    "Hey, can you guys at least try to be quiet. Some of us are trying to sleep. The sex was bad enough, but I don't want to hear you guys getting all mushy. It's gross." You recognize Yoongi's lazy drawl and feel heat tinge your cheeks a bright shade of red as Jin gives a loud, wheezing windshield-wiper laugh.    "You know, maybe if he just got laid he wouldn't be so cranky all the time." Jin tries to say this quietly, but even hotel walls can't stop Yoongi's vampiric hearing from catching this.    "I heard that!" You can hear the muffled noises of others speaking before Yoongi finally gives a loud, exasperated sigh and presumably leaves the hallway to go back to his own room.    "You know, he really does need to get laid. So does that girl that was chosen for him, god I feel for her. You know, I used to think your job sucked...pun intended..." Jin gives another barking laugh before continuing, "but man, she really has it rough. He's as much bite as he is bark. Pun not intended that time, but hey it kind of works huh?"    "Hmm, yeah I really lucked out didn't I?"    "I mean, of course you did, you got me didn't you? This is a worldwide handsome face after all." You mock glared at Jin before breaking off into another fit of giggles.    "Ah yes, the eternally handsome face of the majestic Kim Seokjin. Really, I'm honored, your majesty." He hit you with a pillow before pulling you tightly to his chest.    "Really though, I got lucky with you. I know you said you started working at Tainted Souls for the money, and I know you figured you had nothing to lose with interviewing for this spot and it kind of sucks that it's actually your job to hang out with me but at the same time I'm so glad that I get to hog you all to myself. I'm also glad that you only interviewed for my spot..." You hummed in agreement with Jin. By the time you finally relented to interviewing for the position the only person still looking had been Jin, and much to your surprise you would later find out that he had requested you specifically after hearing about you from the other girls. You weren't sure why or what all he saw in you, but you were so glad he did. He was your home, he was your safe place. Even if at first you were only supposed to be a glorified blood bag. Life has a funny way of things just working out, and you wouldn't have it any other way.