#No pockets made me switch to Men's jeans so lose-lose for the company

[thatradfailure]

Guess what, clothing companies?

IF A NEAR COMPLETE AMATEUR CAN SEW IN FUNCTIONAL POCKETS ON A DRESS MADE FOR A BUILD-A-BEAR STUFFED ANIMAL, YOU CAN PUT FUNCTIONAL, TO SCALE POCKETS ON YOUR JEANS AND CRAP

LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THIS CUTE DRESS!

AND THE POCKETS BLEND RIGHT IN!!! I CAN PUT SMALL ROCKS IN THAT RIGHT THERE! YOU KNOW HOW EASY THIS WAS? SUPER! WHAT'S YOUR EXCUSE, CLOTHING COMPANIES???

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Regular (part 3): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: for Geto, there’s no one but you. And he wants that to be the same for you, too. Why would you even want anyone else? 

wc: 2.4K

tw: nsfw, nsfw, nsfw, please for the love of god dni if you’re minor. smut and more smut follows

a/n: There will be one last part for. wrap-up, but I literally have not written a single thing since before yesterday, so I’m writing today! Hope you all enjoy! 

part 1 part 1.5 part 2

Your finger fidgeted with the edge of your skirt as you sat in Mrs. Lampton’s office, waiting for her freckled face to appear in your line of vision. The office is a direct reflection of who Mrs. Lampton is: dimly lit with orange lighting and vintage movie posters hang on the right side of the wall above a mini zen garden; on the left side, there are various pictures of her as a dancer, the newspaper headline announcing that she had bought the club, and then a picture that featured her and all of the dancers from years ago. On her desk, the club manager had collected various crystals, each one a different color than the rest, and finally, on the wall behind her desk, a sign that read “Complaints will be heard from the hours of 6 am to 3 pm”, which, coincidentally, were hours when the club wasn’t open. 

She had called you in early to discuss something with you, but hadn’t shown her face at all since you walked in and plopped down on the cheap, orange vinyl seat. A moment later, the door to the office creaks open and Mrs. Lampton shuffles in, pushing her short red bangs away from her face. “Hey, y/n, thanks for coming in early for me. Just wanted to speak to you face to face before tonight.” She sounded exhausted, as if she had been dealing with other problems before she got to you.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask, lacing your fingers together nervously. 

“Huh?” The woman looks over at you as she slides the chair out from behind her desk. She shrugs her denim jacket off, revealing the multi colored striped shirt beneath paired with light wash mom jeans. “Why would you think you’re in trouble? Have you done anything to be in trouble for?” She leans forward, placing her pale elbows on the desk and looking into your eyes. 

“No, I--”

“Good. You’ve made yourself practically invaluable here and I wanted to make sure everything was going okay with you and Mr. Geto.” You think about the morning you spent with Suguru and the subsequent night you danced for him in the VIP room, which ended up being a makeout session towards the end. 

“E-everything’s fine.” 

“He’s treating you fairly?” 

“Yes.”

“Not getting too ahead of himself is he?” 

“Ahead of himself?” 

“You know, trying to play savior or--” 

“No, not at all.” In fact, he had insisted that you go back to the club that night and dance, even if it meant it was just you and him. He knew you liked the club; he was just there to make your experience happier.

“Great! Oh, also --” A drawer opens and Mrs. Lampton rummages around in it for a moment before pulling out a magazine. “Thought you would like to see this.” She slaps it down on the desk before turning to her computer and clicking around on it while you pick up the magazine. And there Suguru was, on page twenty-six, strolling alongside his blue-eyed friend - what was his name? Godo? Todo? Gego? Oh, Gogo. Right. 

The headline reads: “Their Companies are Merging, but They’re Total Opposites”. Suguru is dressed for a business meeting in a pair of black slacks and black shirt, complimented by a silver tie. Gogo, on the other hand, is wearing a grey turtleneck sweater and black skinny jeans, also in mid-conversation about something. The caption reads: Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru have a lot in common: they’re handsome, inherited their wealth, and are very eligible bachelors. But what you don’t know is that they couldn’t be more -

“Why are you showing me this?” The magazine plops down on the desk again and Mrs. Lampton looks over from her screen. 

“You need to know exactly who you’re entertaining. Geto’s family owns an international medical equipment giant, and his friend is literally the heir to the technology company Gautama.” 

You bite your lip at this news, suddenly remembering the magnitude of the situation at hand. Again, Suguru wasn’t just rich, and people didn’t just get into his personal business because he was handsome. One day, he would be the heir to a massive fortune and a company that relied on the public’s approval to maintain its efficacy. One wrong move, and Suguru could lose it all. You need to handle this predicament with care, not with some kind of illusionary idea that he could be--

“I see. Thank you, Mrs. Lampton.” The club manager shifts in her seat, giving you a tender smile before sliding an envelope your way. 

“And this came for you yesterday after you left.” Curious, you open the envelope, and look back up at Mrs. Lampton warily. “Do with it what you will.” 

“I can’t accept this; this is-” 

“Not my problem anymore. I’ll see you later, y/n.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

“I can’t accept this.” You hand the envelope and it’s contents back to Suguru, and he frowns deeply, hand slowly reaching out to take the paper. 

“What’s this?” He opens the envelope and takes out the check nestled inside, examining it carefully. “Oh, no.” 

“I can’t accept money from your friend.” 

“No, this isn’t right. Satoru would never…” Suguru shifts forward, trying to examine the check under the dim lighting of the room. “He would never do something like this. He’s an idiot, but he’s not a dumbass.” 

“Why would he send me a check for twenty thousand dollars?” 

“He wouldn’t.” Suguru folds the envelope in half, placing it in his pocket with finality. “I’ll deal with this, princess, don’t worry.” He places a tender kiss to your forehead, peppering your face with pecks until his lips reach yours. You moan into his mouth and slide your hands up to his, which are holding your face, and open your mouth to deepen the kiss automatically. Your tongues tangle between each other, dancing in the space made by your interlocked lips. When Suguru pulls away, you groan, leaning your head back with displeasure. 

“I want you tonight,” you whisper, and Suguru laughs, nipping at your lower lip. 

“You needn’t say another word.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

A long-sleeved kimono. 

A pair of men’s pants. 

A silk camisole and matching shorts. 

A grey shirt. 

All of them have been scattered across the room leading up to the four poster bed you’ve been politely deposited on. And the man between your legs is starving. 

He’s putting his hair up in a bun with a hair band, shirtless, while his muscles move methodically. And you’re lying before him, a spread of deliciousness waiting to be devoured by someone who has been deprived of your taste for too long. 

Once Suguru’s hair is no longer an issue, he slides his fingers between your legs, catching the slim digits on your core. You suck in a sharp breath as he begins rubbing your clit, relishing in the gentle touches he lavishes upon you. “Talk to me.” 

“That feels good,” you immediately respond to his command, fluttering your eyes closed. Suguru hums, the answer satisfying him enough that he slips a finger inside of you. You arch your back, pushing your cunt into his palm eagerly and mewling just a little.

“That’s it…” His free hand comes up to snake around the back of your neck and his lips come down to latch onto your right nipple. The hand on your neck slides down to tweak your other nipple as he pulls and sucks with his mouth eagerly, and you buck into his hand again as he tucks another finger inside of you, fully tethering you to his movements. 

“S-Suguru,” you breathe, and his eyes lift to meet yours, focusing on your blissed-out expression. The wine you tossed back before you both began your little tryst wasn’t doing you any favors, and your head swam at the lust-filled expression Suguru wore. Your nipple pops free from his lips and he blinks slowly, tilting his head like he always does when he’s about to ask you a question. 

“Has anyone else made you feel like this?” he wonders above you, and you look up to him, eyes half-lidded. 

“No.”

“Can anyone else make you feel like this?” 

“No… no one else can.” Your response to his stance of absolute ownership obviously pleases him as he snakes kisses down your stomach and flicks your clit with his tongue, fingers still nestled deep inside of you. “Su!” Instinctively you grab his hair, lacing your fingers through the strands as you push his face closer to your core. Suguru grains with pleasure, removing his fingers and diving head first into you without another word; his slick-covered hand pushes your right leg up, and the other hand rests on your hip lazily. 

But his tongue is anything but lazy as he eagerly attacks your slit, reminding you just how hungry he really is. When his other hand moves off of your hip and to the outline of his cock in his boxers, you want to help him palm his erection, wind your fingers around his length and tug, but you’re too far away. The solution comes moments later. 

“Su,” you begin, huffing as he continues to eat you out, but looks up to meet your eyes. “I want… I want to sit on your face.” His eyebrows shoot up at the request, and the black haired man pulls away from your core and kisses up your right leg before sitting up on his knees. 

“Then switch with me.” 

The command is yet again met with no resistance, and once Suguru settles in on his back, you carefully swing your leg over his shoulders, lowering yourself onto his face. Large hands rest on your ass cheeks as he resumes his feast, and your tiny hands find his cock, snaking beneath the waistband of his boxers with ease. 

When you first touch his member, he jolts a little then moans directly into your pussy. You never really noticed just how thick he was until that moment, sliding the offending fabric down until his cock is right in front of your face. You stroke it - fingers not even close to meeting around his thickness - and lick the tip with care then lower your whole mouth down his length.

“Oh, my god,” Suguru moans, the sound muffled by your thighs so it sounds more like a breathy “uhhmahgah” than anything else. You begin to bob your head and build a rhythm to your sucking, rarely stopping for air. You know you’re doing a good job when Suguru’s fingers on your ass tighten and his tongue stutters as you slowly build his orgasm. In the dim lighting of your usual, beautiful hotel room, you hope that no one can see you or Suguru pleasuring each other with abandon. That would make a very interesting headline. 

“Ah!” Suguru flips you over with a push which lands you on your back, head facing the footboard. He climbs over top of you, eyes still focused on your face, and lifts your legs back up, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“You were doing your job a little too well down there,” he hisses, lining himself up with your dripping core. You laugh for a second before he anchors himself with the backs of your knees and slowly sinks into you, hissing as he sheaths himself completely within your walls. Missionary… he loves it, and you do too, especially when he leans forward and presses his chest against your weak thighs. He can watch your face as he moves within you, and it’s the very fact that he’s the cause of your immense pleasure that spurs him on to a mind-bending orgasm. But you want something different… something new. 

“Wait,” you breathe, and Suguru looks up at you with curiosity. “We should… try something new.” Your mind flips through the endless pages of the Cosmopolitan rags in the dressing room, and you settle on something you’d seen just before your second day at the club. You lift one leg up precariously, and Suguru instantly catches on to your imagined position, turning you on your side. While snatching a pillow from behind him, he tucks your lifted leg over his shoulder and places the pillow under your back, where it supports you from falling over. 

“Fuck yes, that’s amazing,” you whine. He slides back into you with ease, holding your leg as he fucks you senseless. 

“Oh, yeah…” His groans mixed with your mewls of ecstasy fill the room, making a sweet symphony of noise for the neighbors (or someone above you) to hear. Skin slapping, grunts, rough touches and tender caresses -  everything you’ve grown to anticipate and desire from this man who has absolutely bewitched and been bewitched by you - are present right now. Nothing could take you out of this dream turned reality. “Y/n… this is heaven.” 

The admission from the man is accompanied by a stare that reaches down to your soul, and your hand flies to your clit. You want to make yourself cum and fast. He’s saying all the right things… doing all of the right moves, and you --

“I can’t let anyone else have you.” 

“Su--” you choke out, hoping that he would hear your pleas beyond his pleasure. “Su, I--” 

“Don’t need… t’say... a word,” he grunts. “I already... know.” He gets faster and deeper, stretching you past what you thought you could take and bringing you even closer to orgasm than you thought possible. “Just cum... Cum for me... That’s all I want.” 

Your fingers are working just like Suguru is, not pausing for even a second to give you any sense of reprieve. He litters kisses along your ankle and down your calf, all the while fucking your brains out. His hands knock your fingers away and do what only he can do, rubbing your clit better and faster than you can.

“Please… cum for me, princess.” Hot air drags into your throat and you exhale in what sounds like a dying woman’s groan, clutching at the sheets with all of your strength. Your walls spasm around his cock, and a wetness drenches your lower legs, sliding down onto the red fabric beneath you. 

“You’re so perfect,” Suguru whispers, closing his eyes. “You’re such a good girl… cumming all over me like that; god, I’m gonna--” His breath hitches in his throat as he unloads in you, his cock throbbing angrily as it deposits loads of cum inside of you. He shudders long and hard, practically hunched over your figure while you recover, panting deeply. 

A haze settles nicely over you while Suguru adjusts himself carefully and softly smooths a hand over your sweaty face. 

“Do you want to go again or should we call for new sheets?” 

“Again,” you answer definitively, and he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek and murmuring, 

“I love it when you say that.” 

[satonthelotuspier]

My Soulmate’s Regret Part 3

Yep it’s been a while since I wrote for this AU. This is pretty much setting up for the finale, or at least the run to the finale, of the xicheng arc.

You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

CW for blood, minor injury, possessive behaviour.

He was at a convenience store buying cheap instant noodles to take back to the station, when Jiang Cheng got the oddest feeling he was being watched.

He wasn’t a man to ignore his instincts, cops who did that more often that not ended up dead, so he carefully wandered through the aisles of the small shop, scanning for anyone who looked like they might be not quite what they seemed, fully utilising the mirrors and angles to his best advantage and disguising his regard.

Despite his extremely careful supermarket sweep, nobody seemed out of place. There was a mother with her young son shopping for that night’s dinner ingredients, two men in business suits, both with company ID badges on show, looking for a quick lunch to take back to the office, and a gaggle of high school girls shopping for cute candy. They kept throwing him looks, and giggling amongst themselves, but a quick once over showed them to likely be what they seemed, school bags, uniforms, all of them huddled close so they knew each other well, no possibility of one being a new member of the clique.

He shoved a hand in his jacket pocket and made his way to the till, blocking out their excited tittering as he joined the queue behind the mother and son, and waited for his turn to pay.

Despite the fact he’d visually cleared everyone here he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and it wasn’t just by the young girls. At least he was pretty sure it wasn’t.

All he could do was keep his guard up, however.

His phone buzzed in his pocket; signalling the arrival of a text; he took it out and checked the message, expecting it to be Wei Wuxian, asking Jiang Cheng to grab him some lunch as well, but it was Lan Xichen.

A-Cheng should have dinner with me tonight.

Can’t. A-Cheng is busy.

Too busy to see your husband? What plans do you have?

Ex-husband. I’m having dinner with my boss and his brother.

Our marriage certificate is still valid, A-Cheng. Like it or not, I am still your husband.

Having this argument at least twice a week helped neither of them, of course. And technically Lan Xichen was correct. He really should get around to fighting for the divorce. He was a very busy man, however, and it wasn’t like either of them were in a hurry to marry again.

Not that Lan Xichen would give Jiang Cheng the chance, of course.

Does that mean you’re having dinner with Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang?

That had been a slip up, it was only going to cause Lan Xichen to try to be controlling. But no point lying now, he’d already said it.

Yes.

Invite me.

He almost dropped his phone at the shock of that text. Was Lan Xichen insane?

He was just about to reply something of the kind when he realised it would be his turn to be served very shortly, and put his phone away to wait.

Once outside the store, however, he pulled it out of his pocket again, and hit dial as he wandered back in the direction of the station.

“No, I won’t be inviting you. Because it’s not my dinner party, and because how do you think it would look for my boss, a policeman, to be having dinner with you, a suspected crime lord.” He didn’t even give Lan Xichen a chance to greet him, he just leapt straight into the attack.

“Suspected, Sweeting. And your soulmate.” Why was Lan Xichen so damn unflappable about this kind of thing? “I do not like the idea of you having dinner with Nie Huaisang, A-Cheng.”

Not this again.

“I’m not having an affair with Huaisang-xiong, Xichen.”

“I know. That’s why he’s still alive.” It was always so matter of fact with Lan Xichen.

It was impossible for their little bickering sessions to develop into something more satisfying for Jiang Cheng, where he got to argue and yell and get everything off of his chest, because trying to argue with Lan Xichen was a losing battle. The man never lost his temper, always spoke calmly and evenly, and let Jiang Cheng’s jibes and comments roll off of his back, except where he had a calm response to make to refute them, like this time.

“Tomorrow then?” Lan Xichen suggested. “I’ll pick you up from the garage near the station at about six.” Lan Xichen hung up without waiting for his answer. It never mattered much what his response was, after all.

He pushed his mobile back into his jeans pocket and went to the department kitchen to boil water for his makeshift lunch, cursing the fate that had made Lan Xichen his soulmate.

*******

The meal the previous evening with the Nie brothers had been uneventful, and he had arrived home around ten, to fall straight into bed.

His workload that day was relatively light. He had some reports to read through on feelers he had put out, further into the Wen clan’s dealings.

It was what had gotten him kidnapped the previous month, but he wasn’t going to stop, especially now he had a solid suspicion the Wens were planning to move against his husband.

It wasn’t clan politics, he didn’t give a fuck about that, let them screw each other over into the ground, but he cared about his soulmate’s safety. As much as he hated Lan Xichen, he did still love him.

Of course he wouldn’t act on anything that could be considered a conflict of interest, Lao-Nie trusted him enough to manage his workload ethically; and he wouldn’t pass information on to Lan Xichen; it was a matter of professional pride with him that he always separated his private life and his professional role, much as some people mocked, thought he didn’t, thought he was a sleeper for Lan Xichen. Thought leaving his husband was a front and not the most difficult, heart-wrenching decision he had ever made in his life.

Unfortunately that wasn’t helped by the fact Lan Xichen made it impossible to leave him. He refused to agree to a divorce. He still inserted himself into almost every aspect of Jiang Cheng’s private life. And heaven help him but they still fucked regularly.

He forced his mind back onto the folders of paperwork in front of him; he wasn’t getting paid to psychoanalyse his own relationships.

He spent an hour in the gym and training room to finish off his day, then grabbed a quick shower, before changing into something a little more dressy than his usual jeans, t-shirt and jacket. He didn’t know whether they’d be eating out or eating back at the Lan mansion, and if the latter, Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen’s uncle, may very well join them.

He had always gotten on very well with his soulmate’s uncle, and he deserved the respect of Jiang Cheng making an effort with his appearance.

It was a little after six by the time he was ready to leave, and he was in a rush to ensure Lan Xichen wasn’t waiting for him too long, so he ran for the underground garage Lan Xichen had mentioned in their telephone call yesterday. He had occasionally picked Jiang Cheng up from the street, especially when Jiang Cheng hadn’t been expecting him, but he also knew it was better for Jiang Cheng to not be seen too often getting into the car of his suspected mafia don estranged husband.

He rushed to the level which Lan Xichen normally parked on, but a quick scan showed no familiar dark saloon. The hairs at the back of his neck stuck up with the sudden realisation it was actually much quieter generally than it should have been at this time of the evening, in fact, it was scarily deserted.

He scanned again, aiming to back towards one of the walls while he reached for his police issue weapon.

He pulled it out, and could have thrown it away in frustration to notice it didn’t have a magazine in it. Which was bullshit, because he knew for a fact it had had one when he locked it away at the station to go into the gym. Someone had had access to his locker.

Fuck.

He wasn’t entirely surprised to see figures dressed in dark clothes moving out of the shadows between cars and making their way towards him, all carrying an assortment of weapons.

“Just like he said. Lan Xichen’s bitch on a platter.”

The comment, whether it had been meant to rile him up or not, told him that he had been given up by someone, and that the reason they came for him specifically was because of his relationship to the Lans.

He didn’t consider himself a stupid man; at least not professionally. And he knew that without a gun, he was as good as defenceless against so many, so he did the most sensible thing possible, and took to his heels.

Luckily he was quick, and he knew this particular garage quite well; let them catch his university track team ass.

He ran, and weaved, and switched levels.

He managed to put a bit of distance between him and his pursuers, apparently they hadn’t expected him to scamper. He took the opportunity to hide himself behind a car and pull his phone out.

He dialled Wei Wuxian; if the thugs were interested in him as Lan Xichen’s ‘bitch’ and not as Jiang Cheng, organised crime cop, then Wei Wuxian might be targetted too. And who could he trust at the station?

While his phone rang he checked his messages. Someone had been into his phone too, and replied to a text message from Lan Xichen telling Jiang Cheng he was going to be late.

This all stunk of careful organisation.

Wei Wuxian answered, and began chirping something at Jiang Cheng, but he cut him off immediately, and there must have been something in Jiang Cheng’s tone that notified Wei Wuxian the other was deadly serious.

“Wei Wuxian, where are you?”

“I’m just about to leave the station, Jiang Cheng, why?”

“Go back inside, don’t leave. Go and find Lao-Nie in his office, and get him to call Wangji for you. Do not leave with anyone other than your husband. Do not leave Lao-Nie’s side unless it’s with Wangji, and hand over your phone and weapon for him to take a look at. I’ll explain later.” I hope.

“OK, I’m going back now, but Jiang Cheng, are you OK, where are you? Shall I send you backup?” He wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that; if he told Wei Wuxian where he was the stupid fool would be just as likely to tear over here to help rather than keep himself safe like Jiang Cheng had told him to. Wanted him to.

He hung up, and stared at the phone. There was a good chance they had something tracking him through his mobile. It was relatively easy to do for anyone with a little tech savvy, and these guys had been too organised not to have access to that kind of tech. But he also wanted to preserve it as evidence.

In the end he knew he had to leave it behind, however, and take the chance it would be destroyed, otherwise he had no hope of avoiding capture. He dropped it down a nearby grate, and was just about to take off again when he realised he’d waited too long, and a few of the faster running thugs had caught up with him and located his hiding place.

He had better chance against a few than them all, so he didn’t give them chance to wait for backup, and came out fighting.

His Sanda training against their hand weapons wasn’t the fairest fight, but it was the only chance he had, and he was a stubborn fucker and wouldn’t go down without leaving his own mark.

He acquitted himself reasonably well, and did end up flooring three of them, but took a shallow knife slash across the ribs for his trouble. He ran again. This time, knowing his brother was safe, he didn’t stop. He daren’t go back to the station, or to a local hospital because they’d have to report his knife wound. And while he had a perfectly valid reason he didn’t want anyone but Nie Mingjue to know where he was yet, considering there was definitely someone on the inside willing to give Jiang Cheng up to an enemy. The only place he knew of which was a safe haven for him was the Lan mansion. Lan Xichen would be able to arrange a doctor to tend his wounds, and he could safely contact Nie Mingjue.

*******

It took him a little while to make it there. He had to keep out of public view as much as possible, as it was impossible to hide the blood on his clothes. The guards on the gate seemed to be on high alert, and as soon as he made himself known to them they ushered him into the compound and up to the house.

They must have called ahead because Lan Xichen met them halfway up the drive, accompanied by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, and moved forward.

Lan Xichen was faster, however.

He had paused at first sight of Jiang Cheng, had actually looked like he blanched a little, then stepped forward and swept Jiang Cheng up into a princess carry.

“Please call Xiao-yisheng, Wangji” he said shortly.

Jiang Cheng didn’t really feel like complaining about being carried at the moment, and let Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen fuss around him.

“It looks much worse than it is, I think. I’m pretty sure it’s only a shallow cut,” he said, as Lan Xichen placed him down on the couch in his bedroom.

Lan Xichen didn’t answer; and Jiang Cheng glanced up. His mouth was set in a tight line of rage. Jiang Cheng reached out and took his hand.

“I’m alright, Xichen.” His voice was soft, soothing.

Lan Xichen was probably going to be out for blood after this, and there likely wasn’t much he could do to mitigate it. He had to just hope that Nie Mingjue and he could get to the bottom of what had happened and get them off the streets before Lan Xichen fathomed it and took matters into his own hands.

His words of comfort caused the other to shake his rage off, and kneel down next to Jiang Cheng. He clutched both of Jiang Cheng’s hands between his, and lifted them to his mouth, to place soothing kisses on them.

Jiang Cheng was of course uncomfortable under the tender regard.

He didn’t try to break free though; the comfort was for Lan Xichen, not himself, as ironic as that was. Lan Xichen was a control freak, and that he had allowed his husband to remain free of that control, and he had then been wounded, would hurt him, would gnaw at him and make him question whether he had been wrong to allow Jiang Cheng that freedom.

When the time came to leave, Jiang Cheng was expecting to have to fight him on the subject all over again.

But he would; he wasn’t some pretty bird to be kept in a cage, and taken out at Lan Xichen’s fancy.

That was for another time though.

He allowed Lan Xichen to help him out of his slashed shirt, and Wei Wuxian joined them.

“I let Lao-Nie know you were here and safe. You need to speak to him and tell him what happened, Jiang Cheng.”

“I’ll do it now.”

Lan Xichen held him down, “No, you won’t, A-Cheng. You may call Lao-Nie after Xiao-yisheng has tended to that wound, and examined you.”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but there was little point at the moment.

******

That was why it was a while later before Jiang Cheng was given the handset of one of the household extensions and allowed to telephone his boss.

He would have ideally preferred to do it on a line that didn’t belong to the Lans, but at least he knew the line would be secure from outside influence. And there was nothing else he could do; his phone was who knew where and Wei Wuxian’s had been handed over as evidence.

There was a part of Jiang Cheng that trusted Lan Xichen to not invade his privacy to that extent. And he knew he’d likely have to give his husband some of the basic information of what had happened; he just hadn’t judged how much was sensible yet.

Lan Xichen had left him with Wei Wuxian, and, once the door had closed behind him, Jiang Cheng dialled.

Xiao-yisheng had cleaned and placed a few stitches into the wound on his chest under a local anaesthetic. A wider examination had proved, as he claimed, that he was perfectly fine beyond that one cut.

Nie Mingjue answered in short order and Jiang Cheng put the phone on speaker, allowing both he and Wei Wuxian to be part of the discussion. He quickly related what had happened, and asked Nie Mingjue to try and retrieve his phone from the drain.

“I should be fine to come back into the station tomorrow to give you my official statement…”

“Are you insane, Jiang Cheng?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Two attempts like this in the space of a month – one possibly aided from within the department. There was a reason you judged it wasn’t safe to return here, or to a hospital, when you got away from those thugs. Don’t start being a simpleton now. You need to sit back for a while, let the heat simmer, maybe go into protective custody. At least you need to stay by Lan Xichen’s side; only a fucking idiot would try to go through your soulmate to get to you.”

Jiang Cheng bit his lip in frustration. A part of him accepted the sense in Nie Mingjue’s words, but he wasn’t someone who was happy taking a passive role. And he was eager to make progress on this investigation; he didn’t want to give Lan Xichen any chance to get to the answer before they did. His husband was cold, clinical, and obsessively methodical in his business life; how else was it that, despite what the police knew went on under their very noses, they were still no nearer to having anything at all on the Lans than they had ever been.

But with this, with Jiang Cheng’s safety, and revenge for hurting him, he didn’t trust Lan Xichen to be so dispassionate; and the last thing he wanted was for the idiot to get hurt. And it had been obvious from what the thugs had said that Lan Xichen had been the ultimate target, with Jiang Cheng merely just a potential tool.

Perhaps it was best for him to be beside Lan Xichen for now, if only to offer him the same protection he was trying to foist on Jiang Cheng.

[heartfulofsighs]

Baggage Claim Pt. 5

Description: Seunghoon back from a business trip only has a mind for growing his company. You are in the middle of running from the by the book life that was drowning you. When a minor inconvenience sets you in his path will you be the reason he eases up? And could he be what you need to get serious again? 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

Hey guys. Sorry I’m so late on this I lost Inspo for a bit but thankfully I had @negrowhat and @bbnightengale to bounce ideas off of even if they didn’t realize I was doing it. Thanks every one for their patience. I appreciate it and don’t worry we are nearing an end...more or less lol. 

He had woken up early. He always woke up early and even despite being out late he still felt mostly rested. He replayed your quick conversation as he got dressed, brushing his teeth and going through the words over and over again. He stared at the picture on his fridge. While he ate his cereal. Bright smile. Somehow he seemed closer to seeing that expression, something that he thought wouldn’t happen. He had assumed that after switching bags he would never see you again. The city was vast and he didn’t have any idea how long you were staying. The party and what you had said made your smile seem more in reach. Now all he needed was a place to take you. He dropped his bowl in the sink and headed out. 

“Squeeze wants out.” The sentence was destroying his good mood. Mino looked very serious. Hoon’s friend and the agency’s lawyer Jinwoo was perched on the edge of his desk shaking his head. “Such a shame.” He said without much feeling. He had no idea. Hoon had spent untold amounts of time going back and forth with them on their campaign. “Did they say why?” Hoon asked. He was trying to keep his anger in check. He hated wasted time. “They got bought.” Mino began. “By a very big beverage company that has its own internal marketing department.” Jinwoo explained, “they’re cancelling our contract.” “But our fee?” Hoon questioned. “They’re willing to pay 30%.” Mino offered. Hoon nearly knocked the small light from his desk. “30%?” He echoed. Jinwoo stood up straight and pulled his cellphone out, “don’t sweat it too much, I’ve already got a meeting set up with their CEO and lawyers.” He tapped away at his phone screen, “I’m gonna try for at least 70%.” “You’re going by yourself?” Hoon questioned. “Shouldn’t we go with you? I don’t want you to be...bullied or-” Jinwoo looked up at him from his phone. The atmosphere in the room changed. His wide doe eyes visibly sharpened, “you really think they can bully me?” He asked pleasantly. “It just doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” Mino said. “Nothing in life is fair. All you guys have to do is send me good vibes...I’ll work it out and then give a call of course.” He said. “I appreciate it...we appreciate it.” Hoon said. It wasn’t often that Jinwoo came in on jobs for them. He was one of their best friends but he was heading up a budding firm. He had his own problems to handle not to mention that he usually wouldn’t take his full payment for any of his work. It drove Mino and Hoon crazy. They solved that problem though. Now they direct deposited his fees instead of giving him checks that he never cashed. “Is the meeting today?” Mino asked. Jinwoo nodded, “yep. I’m gonna get some coffee downstairs and then go. Leave it to me.” His nonchalance was typical but also terrifying. He was going to bring all his persuasive powers against these men. He wondered if he would stop at 70%. He just might push for the whole fee. Seunghoon rubbed his face in annoyance. “What about Seungyoon?” He asked. Though he was afraid to hear the answer. “Haven’t heard anything from him yet.” Mino whispered. He slammed his fist on the desk before leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “It isn’t the end of the world.” Jinwoo said lightly. “He’s just considering all his options...don’t worry so much.” Hoon heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Mino must be standing, “you know how he is.” He said softly. When he opened his eyes they were getting ready to leave. “Good luck.” He said to Jinwoo. The older man waved before walking out. “I’m gonna work on some stuff. Don’t sit here and fume all day.” Mino warned. Funny he should say that because that’s all Hoon could think to do. Mino closed his door as he left and he was alone. This was suppose to be a good day. Things felt like they were going his way. He closed his eyes again and tried to bring that feeling back. He began to envision your picture hanging on his fridge smiling brightly. He took a huge breath in then out. He thought of you laughing at the event. That was a good smile too. Before he could talk himself out of the phone call he found your number and hit the call button. His mind felt like it was rolling. Everything was so mixed up. But the sound of your voice stopped it. “Hi?” He soaked up the single syllable and smiled when he responded. The conversation had gone by in a blaze. When he hung out one thing was concrete. He was going to pick you up. He looked down at his desk and then at his computer screen. Where was he going to take you?

Cherry made you try on combination after combination. It felt like you had put on every single piece of clothing you had brought with you. “I think that sort of flouncy shirt is nice, with the shorts.” Cherry sniffed as she talked. You picked up the shirt in question and put it back on. It was off the shoulder with flouncy sleeves that hid a bit of your arm jiggle. Not that you minded it but you only wanted to have one area to be concerned over. The shorts weren’t overly short but it was more thigh then you were planning on. “You don’t think this is too much skin?” You asked slowly. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Cherry sneezed then shook her head. “I think you look perfect, wear your white converse, take that jean jacket and we have an outfit!” She declared. She sneezed again and you made a note in your mind to carefully, quietly, spray the room down with Lyesol.     You coaxed all of your hair into a high ponytail before you figured you were done.  It felt like he took a long time. The waiting killed you. Cherry drank her tea and managed to make herself a little oatmeal. You watched her eat because there wasn’t much else to do. Maybe you were too excited? Watching Cherry felt more sane then watching your phone and hoping for the screen to light up. “Maybe he figured out what was wrong at his job?” You said softly to yourself. “It’s been barely 30 minutes...he’s probably leaving to come get you now…” She said as she swirled her spoon through her oatmeal. “Don’t think too hard about this.” She teased. It didn’t take too much longer before your phone lit up. It slid across the table before you picked it up. “Hello?” You listened to some shuffling and then his voice came over the line. “I’m downstairs.” He said quietly. You stood up gathering your bag. Cherry watched you her spoon in her mouth. “Have fun!” She called as you rushed to the door. Seunghoon had a tight look on his face. His features were pulled into worry and you figured whatever it was that happened at his job was pretty bad.    “Where are we going?” You asked quietly. He turned to you his eyes lingering on your outfit before he cleared his throat.    “You look really pretty.” He began.    “Thanks.”    “I’m gonna take you to the boardwalk amusement park. It’s real dumb and there are always a lot of tourist.” He sounded triumphant by the time he finished his sentence. His features eased a bit and the worry you had seen when you got in the car faded. “Perfect.” You said.  

The drive to the pier was a quiet one. You hummed along to whatever played on the radio. All the tension that he had left the office with melted as soon as you got into the car. He had been right to ditch work. To make an excuse and just disappear. Mino hadn’t been suspicious at all. He had looked up from his computer and waved. “Everything is going to work out. Don’t worry too much.” He had said. He had given Hoon a reassuring smile. He peeked at you. The window was open and the wind was blowing your hair around. You didn’t seem to mind, you kept your eyes watching the scenary. It wasn’t far to the boardwalk and he enjoyed watching your hair and your smile out of the corner of his eye. He pulled into the parking lot which was fuller then he thought it would be. You didn’t give him a chance to open your door. You were pulling on the handle, bouncing out with a huge smile on your face. He got out and walked to your side. You had your phone out to snap a picture of the rides.    “You haven’t come here yet right?” He asked. You turned and shook your head. The park was picturesque. You could see the rollercoaster rising up from the boardwalk, the sky and ocean a backdrop of blue. There was a ferris wheel and one of those swinging dragon ship rides.      “It’s on my list though.” You confessed. He watched as you took a moment to look him over. A confused look on your face.    “What?” He asked. He looked down at his slacks to see if he had spilled something on himself. Satisfied, he then gave his arms a glance. His clothes were immaculate. The idea of changing hadn’t occurred to him. He figured he wouldn’t stand out too much especially since there wouldn’t be many people there on a weekday.    “I’m guessing you came straight from your office?” You asked as you looked his outfit over more.    “Yes.” He answered.  You put your phone away in your pocket a determined look on your face. He liked it, your nose scrunched and he imagined if you had sleeves that could be pulled up, you would.      “May I?” You asked quietly. He nodded and you stepped closer, “ok, lose the jacket.” You said. He pulled his jacket off immediately and held it awkwardly.    “Your shirt, do you have an undershirt on?” You asked. He nodded again and you smiled, “good, take this fancy one off then.” He did. You were nice enough to hold his jacket while he fiddled through with the buttons. He could feel you watching him shrug it off but he decided not to think too hard about it. Once it was off, he put both the shirt and jacket into the trunk of his car. When he came back he made sure to stand the same distance away from you. You didn’t seem bothered by him being that close. In fact it helped because the finishing touch was you lifting your arms and ruffling his hair. You were so close. He could smell vanilla from your body wash, and felt your breath before you pulled away to look at him again. His heart was going a million miles an hour. All he could think about was leaning forward and kissing you. But you were gone too soon, a new big smile on your face.    “Better.” You pronounced. Your hands wrapped around his arm and you began to pull, “now let’s get this forget about work day started!”

You had to treat it as frivolous. If you let your mind dwell on things then you wouldn’t be able to led him happily. You would be too nervous. You pulled him to the swinging dragon ship first The line wasn’t too long and before you knew it the two of you were being directed by a very disinterested teenager.    “No running.” He drawled. As he waved back and forth indicating the ramp.  Hoon followed you to the back row. You shuffled in all the way to the end and plopped down next to you.    “It feels like a million years since I’ve been on one of these.” He said as he fixed his belt. You watched his long fingers and lamented the fact that you hadn’t even thought about a manicure since you landed. For a moment you found yourself annoyed about how grubby you imagined your nails looked next to his perfect ones. You were so caught up in the sudden thought, that he fixed your seatbelt for you. His perfect hands snapping the safety belt at your waist and tightening it quickly. He sat up straight and sighed. He seemed the slightest bit excited. His tiny hint of a smile made you forget about everything. You wanted to see what that smile could grow into.    “Don’t forget to hold your arms up.” You said. He nodded at you very seriously, as if you were giving him very intricate instructions.   The swinging ship loosened him up. He laughed, he held his arms up and screamed with everyone else. At the highest point he grabbed your arm as the ship swung forward. You closed your eyes and leaned into him screaming as your stomach dropped. You could hear his shouting throw his chest as you hung on.   You couldn’t stop giggling as you got off and he reflected your energy. His hand was still in yours, he was leading you back down the ramp looking back every so often. It was almost as if he thought you wouldn’t be there from one step to the next. You gripped his hand with more strength laughing still. His hair was even more ruffled and he was projecting calm and contentment.    “Where to next?” You asked. He surveyed the park and you got a chance to study his profile. His face was helped by the soft smile on his lips. You hoped he would keep it, you hoped that you would get to see it all day.      “You wanna try the bumper cars?” He asked as he turned to you again. You nodded, you didn’t mind him leading you around after all it was his day to relax. Everything was a laugh, the bumper cars, the merry-go-round, the rollercoaster. He bought you both the typical boardwalk snacks. Hotdogs and french fries, cotton candy that he playfully broke off the stick to feed you. The act was just silly enough to not get your imagination going too hot. His frown was long gone. He followed behind you, snacking on popcorn when you spotted what you had been looking for all day. The photo booth. You stopped dead, “a photo booth.” You said excitedly.  He stopped next you his chewing loud. He threw a piece into the air and managed to catch it in his mouth. He looked triumphant and his goofy face made you laugh even more.   “You wanna take pictures?” He asked. The booth looked tiny but you could imagine the pictures looking so cute. You wanted something to remember today. Something to remind you of the time you got him to fully smile, just in case you didn’t happen to see him again. Of course you would want pictures. You could put the strip of photos up in your room and even take them with you when you had to go….     The booth was a little indeed smaller on the inside then you had anticipated. He sat on the bench finishing off the last of his popcorn. When you hesitated he patted the spot next to him expectantly. You sat trying your best to not crowd him. Hoon didn’t seem to mind at all. He edged closer to you and set his paper popcorn bag under the bench. His arms were long enough that he didn’t have to stand back up to feed the machine money. “So silly faces first?” He asked. There was a beeping sound, you turned just in time to stick your tongue out at the camera. Then you gave him bunny ears, crossed your eyes, blew the camera a kiss, every time the camera snapped you giggled. The pictures printed on a photo strip that he swiped from the slot. “How do we look?” You asked as you tried to see them. He was studying them so intently you thought maybe they hadn’t developed well. “Cute.” He finally said. Then he leaned forward again, “but let’s do one more set…” He fed the machine more money then leaned back. “What should we do for this one?” You asked. He looked at you while the machine beeped away in warning. “Smile really big.” He directed. You had just a moment to do it. To pull your lips into a big smile and actually mean it. It had been such a long while since you had meant it. You felt for the first time in a long while like yourself. You hadn’t taken this trip to become a better version of you. What you wanted was to just feel normal. Happy.   The camera snapped, then the warning beep sound started again. You felt his arm around your shoulders, he pulled you even closer laying a kiss on your cheek right at the second snap. The beep again and you looked up at him. He was leaning in. “Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered. “Can I?” He asked. The camera snapped. The beeping started again. You answered with an affirmative hum pushing your lips against his right as the camera snapped again. His hand cupped your cheek and you felt yourself melt into him.  It was probably a bad idea for you to be kissing a man you barely knew. If you were home this wouldn’t be happening, if you were home you wouldn’t be out at all. But you liked him. You couldn’t deny the very obvious pull and what was the point of waiting? Didn’t everyone say time was fleeting? You wanted to kiss him, to keep kissing him. There was no harm in having things that you wanted. For a moment you forgot where you were. Your mind had begun to glaze over a bit. He pulled away, his thumb tracing back and forth on your cheek. You tried your best to not give away your disappointment. “Ummm excuse me?” A small voice drifted into the booth. For a moment neither of you moved until there was a knock. You pulled away from him, sticking your head through the dark curtain. There was a little girl standing outside expectantly. Her mother was holding her hand but it was very obvious that she was the spokesperson. “Are you done? Can me and my mommy use the booth now?” She asked loudly. You could hear Seunghoon chuckling. “We’re done.” You said to her. He was right behind you as you cleared the curtain. “Sorry we took so long.” He said down to her as you passed.

All he wanted to do was relive the photo booth. He had the picture strips in his hands. He gazed down at them as he followed behind you oblivious to everything else. In his pocket his cellphone buzzed. He ignored it like he had been ignoring it all day. He didn’t want to know about anything involving his job. He wanted to keep thinking about your lips instead.    “Are there any other rides you wanna get on?” You asked. He looked up stopping just in time to not run into you. “Pick something, we can do whatever you want.” He said. “Are you going to let me have one of those?” You asked abruptly. You were looking at the pictures a slow smile creeping across your face. “Which one do you want?” He asked. “The silly faces one.” You answered automatically.  You held your hands out palms up expectantly. So cute. The way you smiled at him expectantly, what was he going to do? He handed over the strip you wanted and you looked your faces over. He stepped even closer his hand reaching for your hair, “thank you.” He said softly. He pushed some of it behind your ear. A gesture he had seen hundreds of times in the movies, it felt so different to do it in real life. “For what?” You asked innocently. For what? For making him feel like he could actually breath. For putting a smile on his face, for making the day about something other than his job. But he didn’t know exactly how to say all that. “This day was really relaxing, thanks for coming with me.” He finally said. You shrugged his thanks off, “it’s no big deal, I know how it is.” You replied. “Can we have more days?” He asked quickly before he lost his nerve, “if we both aren’t busy?” He added. For a second he could see your hesitation but then you nodded. “Sure, I don’t mind.” You said. “It can be sort of like a fling?” You suggested. His heart hammered. No. But he nodded his head because what else could he do? If a fling was all he could have then a fling would be what he took.

[msbelmonttepesbelnades]

A Second Chance: Part 1

Being a speaker magician, in current times is something almost unheard of. Have following traditions since speakers first appeared, you were given a mission.

“You want me to what?” You say, while sitting on the sofa inside of a hotel room in France. You had a 3DS in your hands, gaming away. Your sister, the current leader of the Speakers of your time stood in front of you with her arms crossed.

“Go back in time, and try to reason with Dracula. He needs to speak with his wife one last time.”

“Are you serious?” You question sitting up and switching off your handheld. “What’s done is done, we shouldn’t alter the past.” You lean back on the sofa and put your feet up. Your sister took a seat across from you on the end table.

“_____.” She says, “Dracula wiped out entire cites and villages. Innocent people that didn’t deserve to die. Maybe if he could see what his wife would’ve wanted for him and their son after her death he’d change his ways and end the war.” You listen to your sister, wondering if it could possibly sway him.

“Okay.” You say, “But what if it doesn’t.” Your words linger in the air as a silence fills the air. Your sister sighs deeply and shrugs.

“Then you come home. In the end, just come home. I can’t afford to lose anyone else.” She said quietly, her eyes drift down to the floor and you pout your lips slightly. You get up to wrap your arms around your sister, pulling her into a hug.

“Alright. I’ll do my best, and I promise to come home to you.” You give her a smile and she holds out her hand. In her palm was a clear quartz necklace.

“This will let you travel back and forth a total of four times. The necklace will become clouded and turn black. After that it cannot be used again, not ever...so I’m begging you to use it wisely. You’re the only one that I trust with this other than myself. I would go but our people need a leader.” She finishes and she places the necklace into your hand. She looks up at you with glossy eyes, she was the emotional one out of the two of you. She wipes a tear before it could fall and she pulls you into another hug.

“Okay, Annabella. I’ll be alright. Stop worrying so much. I didn’t even leave yet.” You chuckle and she laughs moving away. “So how do I use this this thing?”

“How else?” She says getting up and walking over to the other side of the room to pick up two black duffle bags she prepared for you. “Your intent, this will take you to Gresit. Find the Belmont, our distant relative Sypha and Alucard before they set out to kill Dracula. Speak with them and tell them where you’re from and let them know of your mission.” You nod taking the duffle bags, you unzip them to see one packed with guns and ammo. You look at your sister with an arched brow and she just laughs a bit. “If the stories are true, you’ll need them. But, other than that I’ve packed you snacks, clean water, a medic kit and clothes. Just come back if you need anything dire.” You nod and she steps to the side as you zip up the duffle bags. You reach over and pick up your phone and ear buds off the end table. “Why are you taking that? Not like you’ll get service, or electricity” You shrug and sort of roll your eyes.

“Music? Plus I’m sure Dracula’s castle can charge this thing, he’s got all sorts of advanced science and technology in there if I’m not mistaken.” You adjust the straps to your bag and take hold of the necklace between your slim fingers. You weave the chain between your fingers whilst having the crystal rest in the triangle opening your fingers made. As you focus your magic into the clear crystal, a hue of blue light began to flow out of the crystal. It engulfs your entire body in it’s warm light. Your sister watched with her arms hugging close to her body hoping that you’d be okay. You look at your sister one last time and smile. “I’ll see later Anna.” As you focused more, you could feel yourself fading away to somewhere far yet somewhere familiar. You close your eyes and in the brief time that it took you to leave the hotel room, you stood on the outskirts of Gresit. The city was just like how it was told to you by your parents. You stood in awe, at the grand buildings and the beautifully designed church that was standing tall. Though, when you looked around more, you could see that the night hordes had ran rapid through the city when the sun was down. There were people scraping God knows what off the sides of buildings and off their vendor stands. You cover your nose with the sleeve of your jumper. The stench didn’t hit you right away but when it did it made you nauseous. You had on modern clothing, a black knitted pull over sweater with the Speaker symbol on the shoulder. Dark blue jeans and combat boots, though the duffle bags were black they still looked out of the norm for even the people of Gresit to not notice. As you walk through the town square, you could hear the whispers of the civilians talking about you. Your hair was up in a messy bun, a few stray strands blew in the wind as you looked around for any signs of the people that have been talked about from generations to come. You stood on the edge of the town, near a few stables. You didn’t have to keep away from people. They were doing their best to stay away from someone who dressed and appeared strangely to them. You turn your head and heard a young woman speaking to a man over by the stables a few feet away from you. She wore a light blue robe with a hood and her hair was cut short like a boy. You eyes went wide, not believing that you found her. She asked him about a carriage and horses then offered to pay. You froze in disbelief, listening to her talk to the man. Before you knew it she was gone, hauling a carriage away in the direction of the somewhat abandoned part of the city. You quickly catch up to her, the duffle bags slowing you down a bit due their heaviness. “W-Wait!” You call out, Sypha turns around and stops walking the horses alongside her.

“Huh?” She says squinting her eyes a bit, they immediately shift down to your clothes and the bags. “W-What?” She said confused, she held onto the reins and waited for you to come up to her. She was at a loss for words, her eyes wandered to your shoulder and she looks at the speaker symbol on it. She looked even more confused as she looked down at the speakers pin that held her cloak together. “Who-“ she began and then stops. You shake your head and wave your hand in the air passively.

“It’s a long story, but to put it simply. I am a Speaker magician. From the future.” You say, with a straight face. Sypha looks at you a little taken aback but when she laughs. You nod knowing it wasn’t believable and fold your hands together. Sypha stepped back, her smile faded as she assumed a defensive stance. However she stops when your aura matches hers. The same warm light blue. You wave your arms in the air in a circular motion and ice shards materialize in the air. Sypha’s brows raise as you clap your hands together and they turn to snow. She didn’t know what to say at first and the silence was a little unnerving for you.

“Okay...how do I know that you’re from the future and not just crazy?” She says as she crosses her arms. You nod seeing that coming and reach into you pocket to pull out your cellphone. Sypha’s blue eyes grow wide and her jaw drops a little as the screen to your phone turns on. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” You say as she takes and inspects it with childlike curiosity. “So...I’m here to let—“

“How did magic advance this far!” She says opening up a gaming app. The music lightly echoing through the air made her brow knit together.

“It didn’t it’s technology but we do have our ways of amplifying our magic with other objects. With things like crystals.” You say not really wanting to give a history lesson.

“Why are you here?” Sypha hands you back your phone and she let her arms rest at her sides. You reach up to rub the back of your neck and pocket your phone.

“I’m here to try and stop Dracula’s war on humanity. I’m able to contact the dead, with doing that I can have him speak with his wife. Maybe if he sees what’s become of himself through her eyes he’ll change.” Sypha takes in what you were saying, nodding slowly. She wasn’t sure if that would work and truthfully everyone who traveled with her would probably want Dracula dead despite what her plans are.

“Okay, I believe you. We should probably go introduce you to Trevor Belmont and Alucard. I’m sure you know of them since you’re a future speaker.” She chuckled lightly and took hold of the reins again. You walk with her adjusting the straps to the duffle bag once again.

“Well that was easy....do you think I can convince the others?” You ask, “To go along with my plan?”

“Maybe, I am not sure you can do that with Trevor but Alucard may listen to you. But even so, we may still have to kill Dracula if it doesn’t work. Are you ready for that?” Sypha asks curiously. You nod and follow along with her.

“Of course. This bloodshed has to be put to and end one way or another.” You look around at the gloomy city, the people were stuck in a sea of grief and melancholy. Sypha kept her eyes forward and followed the path that lead to where the Dhampir and the Belmont were waiting. You both walk in silence, the sun slowly going down with each passing minute. Soon, both men came into view, from the looks of it they weren’t arguing but they did seem to be displeased in each other’s lone company for so long.

“There they are, let’s go, we’re leaving Gresit by sun down.”

Mod Ree— Hey! Here’s part 1 to a requested fic. Inuyasha style, I hope you enjoy! Part 2--(idk) will be posted soon!!!

[fhujami]

Do not cross the line | Chapter 3 [Sam Drake x Reader]

AU - Sam and reader works in the marketing communication office

Pairing: Samuel Drake x reader

Tags: @missdictatorme @ruaiori @jaheesvorson @dragonjedihobbit @theoniprince

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - 19 -  Chapter 20 ->

Chapter 3

You walked out of Sam’s office, his huge palm gently on your back while he led you toward the hall to the rooms where were the editing, sound and animation rooms.

“You will work with Harry Flynn, he’s the best animator of the company.” - Sam said while you two walked toward the room, and the closer you got, louder the music beamed from the room.

“Great, he’s having a ‘break’ again.” - Sam chuckled, more to himself than to you, before he knocked on the door and right away opened it.

The bass bested hard and it made your guts vibrate inside you, and you needed to put your hand to cover your other year.

There was a man in a small room, his legs on the table while he was tapping his hands to his thighs on the beat of the music.

“Flynn!” - Sam yelled at the man, but the music was so loud the man couldn’t hear him. So Sam sighed, grabbed the light switch and flickered the lights for few times.

He got man’s attention and he jumped on his chair, turning to look at the door, before shutting the music.

“Boss! Sorry, I didn’t hear you!” - the man laughed while standing up.

“I wonder how you are not deaf yet.” - Sam laughed and put his hand again on your back, pushing you into the room.

“This is Y/N from the Graphics section, you’ll be working with her on the project.”

You offered your hand to the man, who took it, yet not stepping closer to you, but pulling you by your hand and kissing your fingers.

“Harry Flynn.”

You snorted and shook your head.

Harry let go of your hand, smiling.

“You have so soft fingers, the last guy had the hairiest ever!”

You heard how Sam laughed behind you.

“Don’t steal my jokes, Flynn!”

“It was my joke first!”

You looked both men in turns little confused, while they both were laughing.

“Anyway, she starts to work with you next week, so clean your room so she can fit here with you.” - Sam nodded to you to tell you to move on, and you turned to exit from the room.

“There’s nothing wrong in my room!” - Harry spread his hands, looking around his small room.

“Oh, yea? I think I saw a condom package on your table.” - you smiled and nodded toward the table, and both of the men’s heads snapped in that direction, seeing there actually was a condom package in there.

Harry snapped the package in his hand, but it was too late, both you and Sam had already seen it.

“I hope you didn’t use that to a hooker!” - Sam laughed hard while he took a hold of the doorknob.

“Fuck you mate!” - Harry laughed back. - “Don’t forget you owe me a beer for the latest pool game!”

“I won’t, tonight after work? I want a rematch.” - Sam asked while closing the door.

“Better be ready for losing, again!” - you heard Harry yell before the door got closed.

Sam shook his head and you looked at him with confusion. Sam looked at you with a small smile and nodded his head toward the room.

“My best friend. C’mon, let’s see the editing room.”

Sam started to move forward and you followed him while looking around.

You walked to the end of the hall, and Sam opened one of the doors, and behind it revealed a huge room with computers and a huge screen on the wall. On the table, there were sitting a black haired woman, who turned to look at you both when she heard the door got open.

Sam once again put his hand on your back and pushed you inside.

“Y/N, this is Chloe Frazer.”

The woman stood up from her chair, walked to you and grabbed your hand, shaking it firmly.

“You are from the Graphics section?” - she asked and you nodded.

“Welcome to the project. I think it’s your first project here?” - she continued, putting her hand on her hip.

“Yeah it is, I have never been in a part of the project of other sections.” - you said, holding your folder in your hands.

“Well, if you do your job well you might get involved more often.”

“It’s up to my boss who she recommends to the projects.” - you told her, and she nods her head as an understanding.

“We just came by to introduce you two to each other.” - Sam interrupted. “I’ll come later to give the last comments to this one.” - he nodded toward the screen.

Chloe nodded and returned to her desk, as you and Sam walked out of the room.

“You had eaten lunch today?” - he asked while closing the door behind him.

“No,” - you took a quick glance at the clock on the wall. “But soon is time to get some.”

“What about we go lunch together? Let’s talk about the project and I’ll tell you about the ground rules of the house?” - Sam asked while his phone started to ring and he fished his phone out of his jean pocket.

“Only if you pay for it.” - you smiled, while Sam looked at the screen, nodding.

“Of course.” - he smiled and looked past you while raising his hand.

“Charlie!”

You turned around and saw the guard who leaded you to the room coming closer.

“Yes, boss?” - he stopped next to you.

“Can you please take Y/N to Elena’s, and ask her to give her the keycard and some papers?”

“Of course boss.” - Charlie said and started to walk back where he came from.

“I’ll come get you from the Graphics section in fifteen minutes.” - Sam smiled and you nodded, starting to follow the guard as Sam answered his phone and leaned against the wall.

You walked behind Charlie back to the hall where Sam’s office was, there was one door open and Charlie knocked on the doorframe and when you looked inside you saw a blonde woman sitting behind her desk. When she raised her gaze to the door, a huge smile appeared on her face.

“Hey Charlie.” - she greeted and moved her eyes to you. - “New project worker?”

“Yeah, boss asked if you could give her the keycard and some papers?”

The woman got up from her chair and walked to you, offering her hand and shook it when you grabbed it.

“Elena Fisher, welcome.”

“Y/N, Y/L/N.” - you smiled her.

“I’ll take a picture of you and made you an ID card so the guards know you are allowed to be here.” - she grabbed the camera from the table and motioned you to stand front of the wall.

You walked to front of the wall, brushing your fingers through your hair, hoping you didn’t look totally messed, as Elena stepped front of you.

“You look great honey.” - she smiled and without managing to blink your eyes she already took the picture and walked behind her desk again, putting the memory card in the computer and transferring the picture to it.

“You know the ground rules?” - she asked while writing something on her computer and soon grabbing some papers from the desk behind her.

“No, but Mr. Drake take me to lunch and tell me about them.” - you said as Elena signed the papers and gave them to you.

“Read these and sign when you had read these through and bring them back to me.” - then she took a keycard from one of the drawers and put it top of the papers. - “Here’s your keycard to get through the doors.”

Then she made something again on her computer and soon the card printer started humming, printing your ID card, as Elena walked to it and gave it to you.

“And here is your ID card.” - you took it from her hands and grabbed the papers and the keycard from her desk.

“If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to turn to me.” - She smiled gently, and you thanked her, walking to back to Charlie who was still standing on the door.

Charlie started to lead you to the glass door, motioning you to open it with your key card, as you did, making sure it did work.

“I’ll guide you out, even you know where the door is.” - he held the door open for you and you stepped outside of the offices, as the two of you started to walk past the sets.

Once again your clopping heels paid attention of the workers, this time you heard how passing some guys, you heard some whistles behind you, and you heard Charlie laughing softly.

“Don’t worry, they do this to every girl who comes from other sections, there’s so much testosterone in here they turn wild when they see some woman beauty in here.”

You laughed softly as you walked to the door, opening it with your key card and thanking Charlie, heading to the lift and pressing the button to call it.

You made your way back to your desk, putting the papers on your desk and sitting down on your chair.

Soon you saw how someone walked to the other side of your desk, and when you raised your gaze you saw it was Mike.

“I heard you got the project from the media section?” - he smirked.

“Yep.” - you said as you started to read the papers which Elena had given to you.

“Lucky you, I heard it's quite a place they have down there.” - Mike sat down on your desk while crossing his arms over his chest, as you nodded to him, going through the papers.

“What do you say we go to lunch together?”

“Mr. Drake take me to lunch.” - you said quietly while putting the papers down and signing them.

“Mr. Drake? The boss of the media section?” - Mike’s tone was surprised.

“Yeah, he tells me about the ground rules.” - you put the pen down and grabbed your bag from the floor, making sure you had everything you needed in there.

“I heard he’s quite a womanizer.” - Mike’s tone was little irritated and you raised your gaze to him.

“Is just business lunch Mike. And besides, is not none of your business and the workplace romances are not considered good.” - you looked at him, trying to give him - another - point that you were not interested about him.

“Hmh, but only if the romance is between the boss and the employee.” - Mike winked at you and you sighed, shaking your head.

“It was just one date Mike, and we didn’t even kiss.”

“Only because I wanted to be a gentleman.” - he winked again, and you were about to say something but you saw how he quickly stood up from your desk, looking behind you with eyes wide.

“Ready to go Y/N?” - you turned around and saw Sam standing behind you, looking down at you.

“Yeah.” - you smiled at him while standing up, throwing your bag on your shoulder and turned to look at Mike, who looked at Sam little challengingly.

“See you later Mike.” - you said while turned to walk toward the elevator, Sam following you, and Mike looking after you two his brows furrowed.

[valentineheaven]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside (Harry Styles x Reader) Part of “The Book Of Christmas” Series

Christmas is coming, so I decided to write a small series of imagines with each actor from «Dunkirk» movie. "The Book Of Christmas" series – it will be six imagines stories about how you can find love in Christmas eve and also how to preserve this love. I hope that you will like it. This is the first chapter of this Christmas series.

Summary: It seems that in Christmas eve can't happen anything wrong. Everything breathes joy and beauty. But not from her. All the bad things in her life happening on that day: her boyfriend brake up with her, then he's in his car crashes into her car. How can a long Christmas road home bring two strangers together?

Song: Dean Martin – Baby, It’s Cold Outside

It would seem that on Christmas eve can’t happen anything wrong. After all around and breathes magic and comfort, overflowing with bright colors of lights and store signs. After all, everyone go around happy and calm, waiting for twelve hours. But not everyone today feels as it should.

Way beyond the city is actually empty and you understand why. All people have long been sitting at the Christmas tables, talking about plans for next year and sharing interesting life stories and delicious Christmas recipes. And children quietly sitting by a warm fireplace in their red Christmas sweaters, related his beloved grandmother. On their faces shines the purest smile, the one that only children has. Their little hands one by one open the gifts, throwing wrappers all over the living room. They are happy and they aren’t what gets in the car and go somewhere.

The road was deserted, and only your car was rushing for the mute night road. You want to get into the city, to your cozy apartment on the outskirts of London to quickly fall on the bed, wrap yourself in a blanket and forget that damn Tyler.

What could be worse than a breakup with a guy right on Christmas Eve? For you, nothing. You were hoping that this would be the best Christmas ever, because you will spend it together in a cute country house. But when all your wonderful plans fell through, you got in the car and drove back home.

You're going to have a half-hour, but now you don’t think about time. You just want to go home. You already forgotten that today is Christmas and only Christmas songs playing on the radio, occasionally reminded you about it.

Not to hear your tears and sobs to forget about what happened earlier today, you turned on full blast the radio and start to sing along with songs. At first it was something from Frank Sinatra about Christmas, then you changed the radio station and got to melodious howls of Selena Gomez about love, but you now don’t care for the damn love. Switch the wave again and get on the super energetic song that immediately made you forget everything.

"It's getting me crazy, I think I'm

Losing it, I think I'm losing it

I think she said "I'm having your

Baby, it's none of your business

I think she said "I'm having your

Baby, it's none of your business"

(Kiwi by Harry Styles)

You moved behind the wheel in time to the song, it just makes you move and sing along. This song could dispel you and your thoughts. As if it was something from the 90s that played in discos in schools and clubs. The voice of the singer was nice and beautiful, and you wanted to hear him perform live and rock out at his concert.

"I think she said "I'm having your

Baby, it's none of your business

I think she said "I'm having your

Baby, it's none of your, it's none of your"

(Kiwi by Harry Styles)

On the screen of your phone displayed "Incoming call - Tyler". You reached to remove the phone from the stand and answer, but your movements were so vigorous that the phone just slipped out of your hands and fell to the floor. As the road was deserted, you turned the volume down and stopped. Right in the middle of the road. You've almost got your phone, but...

Blow. The car rolled a little forward. You quickly jumped, hitting your head on the steering wheel. You were too confident when think that you're alone on the road.

Jumping out of the car, you saw that on your bumper flaunts a decent dent. Near with your car there is a guy examining the front of your car. He was tall and very cute. The cool evening wind played with his tousled hair. He was dressed in all black - black skinny jeans and a black leather jacket, which sported a burgundy shirt, unbuttoned several buttons. He looked like a real biker or a bad boy.

He crouched a little to see the dent in the bumper. He gently ran his hand along the bumper and thoughtfully looked at you, then at his car.

“Did you not see where you're going?!" - you walked up to him, he was still sitting on his haunches, raised his blue eyes on you. "Though sometimes you can wipe your glass?!" - continued you.

The guy stood up, adjusted his jacket, looked at you. "It's your fault" - softly with a smirk he said.

«What?» - you protested and started to pace back and forth. «I didn’t crashed into my car, I didn't leave the dent there, on the restoration which I have not enough money!» - you looked at him, and at the forest surrounding you on the one hand, and into the glade, surrounding you with the other hand.

«You know, at least I didn't stop in the middle of the road to tint my lips!» - he said loudly.

«I'm not tinting my lips! I tried to raise my phone, you idiot!»

«Please don’t call me, young lady» - he grinned.

«Fuck you, asshole» - you turned away from him.

You're not in the mood to respond to his jocks. The guy was still standing around your car, probably not knowing what to expect. You stood with your back to him, removing the hands in the pocket of your bomber jacket, and in your mind, was just thinking about how to get rid of this unknown and in a hurry to go home. From the minute you were silent.

"So we gonna stand in the middle of the road?" – he asked, but you stood silently with your back to him. "We are lucky that there are no cars, but it would already have created a traffic jam" – he smiled and you knew it.

You got into the car to pick up the phone and call someone. Yes, someone. Getting out of the car, you paid attention to the amount of gasoline in the tank; the arrow showed that you can hardly drive to the nearest gas station.

«Damn» - you said, slamming the door and holding your head.

«Wow, what else happened?» – a guy came up to you.

“Gasoline a little, can’t even get to the gas station» – not looking at him, you said.

«How about I take you to the city and the car will send a tow truck?»

«Yeah, so I have and  sat in the car. No...» – you moved away from him, and he grinned. «I'd rather wait for a tow truck and leave with my car»

«Whatever you say, stranger. But I'll also stay here» – he leaned on the hood of his car. «Let them come and record the scene of the accident and damage caused, write checks» – smiling, he continued.

«If they will write a check, then only for you» – you said and went to call a tow truck.

Has passed an hour, but the tow truck had not arrived and was not. The night also enveloped the deserted road, which at this hour drove all three cars. Today’s Christmas night was especially wonderful. On the blue canvas of the festive scattered shining stars, like a thousand fireworks lit up the silent heavens. Today was new moon, so the moon looked like on the big canvas of the night sky made a small incision through which oozed a silvery light.

You looked at the whole night canvas, as a spellbound. You have studied every piece of it, as the creators of art studying painting in the gallery. Though everything was great, the wind was getting colder and colder. You're already wrapped in your bomber, but the warmer you become.

The guy was still sitting on the hood of his car, often looking at you. His amused that you were so passionate about this starry sky. He often checked his phone, reading messages from friends and family with Christmas greetings.

All around it was quiet and peaceful. All this was interrupted only be the sounds of songs from the radio, coming from his car. Now all this cold silence was melting from soft notes of Silence Night, Holly Night by Frank Sinatra.

«It may be enough fooling around» – he said, striking his hand on the hood. «You’re shivering from the cold. Of course, I understand that you like the starry sky, and that dead silence, but one can fall ill» – he grinned.

«What do you suggest? I can't call and hurry the damn tow truck» – you walked up to him.

«Baby, it's cold outside. Drive your car on the roadside, a tow truck will pick it up tomorrow. And get into my car, I'll drive you to town, you'll miss all the Christmas in this wilderness» – he said with a smile and got in the car.

You drive on a dimly lit road, on the right side flicker then the little houses hung with garlands and figurines, then deserted forests, shrouded in the blanket of night. Sitting next to him, you feel a pleasant smell of his perfume that envelops everything in the car. Men's perfume always smells good.

«There must be a reason why you're so sad» – he quickly smiled and looked at you.

«Everyone today sitting at home or in restaurants and happy celebrate Christmas with those they love. But I wasn't so lucky. Tyler, my boyfriend, had planned to celebrate this Christmas together in a country house of his parents, but when I arrived, he found a better company» – with your head down, you said.

«Who is she?»

«Some friend» – you smiled at him. «What are you doing on a day like this on the road? You hasten to someone?»

«I'm never hastening. I was driving from a friend who needed to pick up some document» – he said, rarely taking his eyes from the road and looking at you.

«Oh, you're the business guy» – you both laughed.

«What's your name, beautiful?» – with a gentle smile he asked.

«My name is Y/N. And you?»

«Harry» – not looking up from the road, he said.

Radio continued to delight you with the different range of songs: from the quiet confessions of love by Taylor Swift to the voice of Louis Armstrong. You communicated with each other, shared interesting stories and interests; sometimes he quietly sang his favorite songs that made you smile. On the radio sounded this legendary voice.

"I really can't stay

But baby, it's cold outside

I've got to go away

But baby, it's cold outside»

(Baby, It’s Cold Outside by Dean Martin)

«One of the best Christmas songs» – adding volume, said Harry. «Every Christmas I hear it on the radio and it's like tradition»

«I'm not a big fan of Christmas music»

«Maybe you still don't like Christmas?" – with feigned surprise he said. «How can you not love such songs? You're nuts» – he laughed.

«I'm not nuts. Just don't like these songs. There are a couple good but most of them are the same».

«How could he leave you, Y/N?» – he ask, looking at you. «How this moron could leave you?» – he, not looking up from the road, pointed to you.

«Apparently he found someone better than me. Someone who can better prepares him a cup of coffee; someone who is always ready to respond promptly to his messages; someone who will listen Frank Sinatra with him all week before Christmas» – smiling, you said.

«You're obviously better than the one you described. So he broke up with you. He's just not worthy of you» – he looked at you with such tenderness in his eyes that you sheepishly turned back to the window.

«I don't know...» – you whispered.

The magical voice of Dean Martin and his song came to the end when a warm Christmas melody was replaced by explosive drums. Did you know this song.

"She worked her way through

A cheap pack of cigarettes"

(Kiwi by Harry Styles)

Harry reached for the radio to switch it, but you took his hand, not allowing him to do this.

«Hey, don't touch, this is a good song» – you looked at him, and he smiled pleasantly.

«You're really like this song?» – he asked carefully.

«Yes, this one is nice and energetic, all better than your Dean Martin» – smile fell from your lips.

«I'm glad you liked this kind of music» – with a grin said Harry.

Harry’s song continued to post strong sounds in the car when you are surprised and a kind of contempt in the expression of your face turned to him. Harry looked at you first with incomprehension, and then realized what it was. You recognized the voice. His voice.

«You're a singer» – rolling your eyes, you said. «And I like your song»

«Yeah, babe, exactly. And I’m very glad that you liked it before you knew that I sing it" – he pierced you with his blue eyes and smirk.

«Initially I thought that this song from some school disco in the 1990s» – you laughed.

«Wow, thanks for such an unusual comparison»

Just to drive two hours, till Christmas remained about an hour and a half, so Harry has sped up a bit to quickly get you in the Christmas coziness of your apartment.

The car raced on the snowy road under changing radio tunes. Harry turned on a CD with his favorite Christmas songs, in the hope to inculcate you a love for this music.

«I'll give it to you. This CD» – he said with a smile, stretching you still an empty box from under the CD. "This is my Christmas present to you. I’m confident that you will love these songs»

You drove to London, which began to blow holiday, even long before you arrived. All the way Harry looked at you when you looked out of the window or on the dashboard. He was afraid to meet your eyes, which struck him with its softness even then, on the road. He was unspeakably glad that at Christmas he is not alone. Harry even took your encounter for a sign, explained him that in the coming year, he won’t stay one.

You liked him. Yes, at first he seems rude and arrogant, but, knowing him better, you realized that in the inside he is kind and calm. In his arms want to wrap yourself like in soft blanket, and forget about everything. That's where is confirmed by the phrase "don't judge a person by his outer shell".

«Outside he's all cool and arrogant,» – thought you, looking at him in your compact mirror. «But inside he has unicorns and in his heart blooming violets» - from these thoughts, you even smiled, what attracted his attention.

After breaking up with Tyler, this guy was like a breath of fresh air, which helped to forget you about everything and remember about Christmas.

«We came, beauty» – genuinely smiling, he said.

Harry turned to you, the last time to give you his radiant smile with the cute dimples you have ever seen.

«How a man with such a cute smile can be the bad guy?» – you asked yourself.

You didn't want to leave him, wanted to go back to that silent road to get back in his car and go to town.

You already came to the entrance of your house, as something suddenly stopped you. You stood rooted to the spot, holding the handle of the door, still hearing the growl of the motor of his car behind you. He was still here.

Was it a feeling of sympathy or loneliness, is not clear. But you quickly returned to his car.

«We both know that a Christmas spent alone is boring» – you said with a smile.

He immediately realized where this is going. So, with a kiss a smile, Harry turned the engine off and got out of the car to meet you. But your meeting and the truth was a sign to both of you.

At Christmas there is always a place of magic and miracle. Here it is. Here it happened.

[letsplayscrabble-blog]

feels like the first time. [ch. 3]

author's note: hi all, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your continued support of this writing. now that introductions are out of the way we can start in on the story a bit and though i have ideas up my sleeve i'd love to hear what you guys want to see! as always, leave me a review and let me know what you think. enjoy (: [@halsteadpd]

"Just a beer whenever you get a second," she heard the blue-eyed man remark before the door of the kitchen had swung closed behind her and she assumed the kind-hearted old man was back out and bullshitting with the lot of them while the burgers were grilling up, finding much more enjoyment in the company the soldiers brought along with them than her grunts and occasional nod of the head whenever he would attempt to strike up a conversation with her bedraggled self. Truth be told, she couldn't really blame him. The only human interaction she was accustomed to anymore were the drunk screeches of her mother if she ever wandered home or the foul groans of a man she'd just sold and offered her body up to.

Erin Lindsay was now left with a dilemma, however, as the soldiers were seated far too close to the old man for her liking and she silently cursed herself because she'd forgotten to ask where he kept the mop because he was getting old and forgetful and it varied from day to day but there wasn't a chance in hell she was about to let herself be seen by a single one of their prying eyes again. The one in front had caused her to lose her nerve for a fraction of a second, not liking the way his eyes found her face and her eyes and the puffiness and the bags because let's be honest she hadn't had more than a few hours of sleep a night for the past three years because the towels she snatched out of the laundromat from some nearly blind old lady one lazy afternoon didn't really serve as blankets in the winter and the bricks near the dumpster of a deep-dish style pizza joint didn't really serve well as a pillow.

She began to fidget with the string on her sleeve again, resisting the urge to yank on it and to maybe let out a harsh chuckle as it came further apart, a perfect metaphor for her life because it'd been three years out on the streets and all she'd done for herself was find a kind old geezer who probably wouldn't be around for much longer to give her a meal and sometimes she had a wad of cash big enough to buy a warm cup of coffee for a few mornings and if she was lucky a new pair of jeans from the Goodwill for approximately thirty-two cents but she was getting tired and fed up and more than once she'd thought about reaching out to Hank and taking her chances and maybe sending up a quick prayer because that damn prep school had taught her something at least, but she had a sinking and a sick feeling that her luck had run out with him and he could still bust her and put her into prison for years because she'd broken their deal but at this point maybe a cell and her own cot and the putrid smell of a toilet were all she was gonna get in this lifetime and maybe she had to learn to be okay with that.

"Oh, this isn't the bathroom?"

Erin whirled, her fiery hazel eyes landing on those damn beautiful blue ones belonging to the dimwit that had just sauntered in through the kitchen door, knowing without a doubt that this wasn't the bathroom because she was going to believe the best in him for a second and presume he could tell the difference between a stove and a shitter.

"I don't know why you sound so surprised," she shot back, the steadiness of her voice catching her off guard a bit because being alone in the room with a person of the opposite sex had never gone smoothly for her over the course of her twenty-one years of living and even though he didn't strike her as her typical cliental she had learned not to trust men a long time ago and this beautiful one wasn't going to change the sudden sinking of her stomach as he moved a step closer. Her eyes darted off to the right, trying to find even a fucking spatula to use as a weapon because she was well aware of the muscles more than likely rippling underneath that uniform of his but damn it she wasn't going to let him do what he wanted to her without a fight.

"I don't know why you look like you're about to piss yourself," he replied smoothly, holding up his hands to show her he had picked up on her body language and picked up on the fact that him moving closer to her wasn't going to do anything for either one of them. Expect maybe work in her favor because he was fairly certain he'd be walking away from the encounter with fingernail scratches all over his cheeks and probably down his arms if he made another single movement in her direction because she looked that ferocious and deadly and if it weren't for the darting of her eyes and the way she took one, tiny small step backwards with her left foot he wouldn't have even been able to tell that she was afraid in the first place.

"Fuck off," she growled, though she was thankful he'd stopped moving closer because she'd run out ideas and had landed on her best bet of screaming and biting and maybe thrashing until he let her go and she could get the hell out of dodge but he looked too strong and too built for that idea to get her very far so she'd also settled on the fact that she was going to have to let him do whatever it was he needed to do do her before splashing cold water all over herself from the sink to give her the false sense of being clean then slipping out the front door without finishing her french fries.

His perfect eyes widened then, maybe in offense, maybe in shock, but she had a feeling it was the latter. He probably had this idea stuck in his head from his suburban childhood and adolescence and his prim and proper mother that women needed to be gentle and soft and not rough around the edges and downright repugnant like she was. He probably had this idea that women weren't quite this ghastly and hideous and revolting but she wasn't going to apologize for shattering his fantasies because with eyes like that he could've landed about six women down the street at Molly's by now but here he was in the middle of an exchange with her.

She was worse than the villagers back in Afghanistan, he had decided while his eyes discreetly studied her as he could feel her doing the same. She was worse because she showed not an ounce of curiosity or trust or anything really towards another and at least they gave the soldiers a chance when they came around asking questions and at least they didn't look like they were about to pounce and recoil and then strike again and he was also sure she was worse because at least those people had each other to lean on and depend on and stand with when it all went to shit and this girl had absolutely no one except herself and he had a feeling it had been a long and dark path for her to end up at this point.

"Did you need something?" He heard her counter, snapping out of his inappropriate thought process because who the hell really cared about this stranger of a woman he met in a bar back in his hometown who he was more than likely never going to see again. So what if her hazel eyes were the most exquisite he had ever seen? So what if he was desperately lonely and craving the affectionate touch of another and so what if he just wanted to reach out and graze the pad of his finger across her cheekbone just to see what she would do? Nine months of being in a dark hole of death and obscurity could really damage a person and Jay Halstead was certain he was certifiably insane but he wanted to keep talking to her and he was going to take a shot in the dark here and see if he could get her to stick around because he was pretty certain he knew what she did for a living.

"Yeah. Whatever it is you're selling," he shot back and he couldn't stop a corner of his mouth from turning up in a grin at the sight of her bewilderment because she wasn't able to get a handle on it quick enough.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Erin hissed, her eyes blazing in the soldier's direction because he had figured her out in a matter of a mere three minutes. Then again she wasn't going to give him that much credit because she still had her pride and in some other life where she was wearing pearls around her neck and swinging a Kate Spade purse on her wrist if she saw herself from the outside looking in at this very instant with her ripped up jeans and her sopping wet off brand fur boots and her bedraggled Cubs sweatshirt as a winter coat but most importantly the puffiness of her eyes and the sallow look of her cheeks she would've pegged herself as a dealer too. Or at the very least someone who had been using. She watched him raise an eyebrow and she found herself digging into her pocket because hell, she'd already made a decent sized wad today but what was one more customer and maybe she'd get that bottle of red wine after all. "One-fifty. For this baggie and for me giving up a half hour of my day to let you entertain yourself." She'd flipped a switch so she was the version of herself that she absolutely couldn't stomach in a matter of two seconds, the dirty girl who sold drugs on the street to get by and the one who sold her body for money because she may not trust men but they were all hungry for that feeling of power they only found when fucking a woman who didn't protest and who pretended to enjoy herself and she wasn't going to discriminate if this guy was willing to join them.

He watched her dangle the plastic between her thumb and her pointer finger of her right hand, all traces of decency he had found speckled in her hazel orbs as he had been staring at her disappearing because now she was doing what she did best and he hated how angry it made him feel that she had to do this to survive but normally he wouldn't have a problem with taking a woman up on her offer to sleep with him because all he really wanted to do was numb himself and alcohol and another body and a quick lay were the only way he really knew how to do it. But this instance, this tiny and fierce woman standing before him and offering herself up to him at a price pissed him off and he found the eruptive and uncontrollable anger his father had passed down to him rising in his throat and it was then he took a few long strides to cross the room and snatch it from her, silently agreeing to her proposition although he already had an idea formulating in his head and there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to find out about it before he got her exactly where he wanted her.

Her feet remained firmly planted in position as the soldier moved closer to her because she already felt disgusting enough and if he wanted to get the show on the road already she wasn't going to put up much of a fight because in these instances that was never a wise decision. But he simply took the bag of pills and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, handing her the ridiculously overpriced total without so much as a second glance before extending his hand for her to shake.

"Jay Halstead."

She raised an eyebrow without really acknowledging his outstretched fingers before slipping past him towards the restaurant and past his friends who began to hoot and holler as he emerged from the kitchen behind her obviously well into their hard liquor for the night but could she really blame them because she'd never known war but it had to be pretty fucked up and terrifying and it made sense they'd want to forget about what they'd done and what they'd witnessed a lot like she wanted to forget about her sad excuse of a life and what she and Jay were on their way to do.

The cold air hit her harder than she liked and as he let the damn bell ding again and the door close behind him he also caught a glimpse of her shiver but he bit his tongue and kept his comment to himself because this girl was ferocious and he didn't want her bolting because when it came down to it she was probably the most genuine company he'd had in nearly a year and he'd only been speaking to her for six minutes. She cast a questioning glance over her shoulder at him then and he was struck once more at how breathtakingly beautiful she was under the smeared eyeliner and the grey tinge of her skin and he couldn't help but wonder why she kept doing this to herself because he obviously wasn't her first customer.

"Follow me," he commanded and she found herself trailing after Jay Halstead's footsteps in the snow and biting back a few tears because she was already dreading having to ruin the way she felt about his dazzling blue eyes and the slight hope she'd had that he was different from the rest.