Javier/Stella just because. Annnd paranormal au 8D
((oops this was 5 instead of 3 XD))
Stella sat wrapped in golden sunlight; the perfect accessory to her beatific smile and upturned palms. Against her breast laid the sun charm, ‘gem’ she called it, soaking up the rays like a sponge in water. Legs crisscrossed Indian style and head thrown back to reverently worship the noonday sun… Javier paused on the threshold of the French double doors, unsure if he should walk out and disturb the scene at hand. He had resisted for so long, mesmerized by the shape of her body, the curve of her hips, the plumpness of her lips, the shape of her lashes, and the way her stomach rose and fell with each soft breath. At peace and safe, a feeling that was rare for her and anyone trapped inside the agency. A soft breeze fluttered her long hair and the wind chimes hanging by the door before reaching his nose, causing him to shiver not from the cold, or heat, but hunger that was growing ever the more ravenous in the pit of his stomach.
Swallowing down primal urges he walked across the green, green grass to where she sat still as a statue. Stella lowered her head and beamed a smile at him that warmed him from tip to toe. “Hey Javi! What’s up? We got a mission?” Guilt gnawed avariciously at his fragile conviction. Red to yellow hues were prized for their special abilities, and Stella was no exception. From the first moment she started to float or bend door knobs she had been scooped up from her home by the institute and trained to help with the paranormal. ‘Family’ was what they called each other, with all the officials being ‘Parents’, but it was more like ‘Blood Brothers’ and ‘Tyrants’. Despite years of being cooped inside, forced to battle god knows what at any hour of the day or night, when everyone else her age was jaded, battle hardened, and upset, Stella was still sparkled with youthful enthusiasm.
“Yeah, looks like another nest of vampires that ditched the blood bank and moved on to live donors…” Stella nodded and stood up, unfurling cramped limbs to the sun like a flower opening its petals. Then, before Javier could blink, the yellow hue moved over to him and gave him a tight hug. It felt like heaven. Encasing her in his arms he sighed, “Stell… You know if we… We weren’t like this and we were out and about in the real world, would you… Would you think about dating people or…”
As abruptly as the hug started it ended. Her giggling laughter trailed behind her as she walked to the double doors, “Javi, you’re silly… I’m already dating someone.” A brief moment of fear clenched his stomach until she looked over her shoulder and winked at him, “C’mon, we’re gonna be late for our date.”
Maybe things weren’t so half bad after all.
1.) Give me a pairing.
2.) Give me an AU setting.
3.) I will write you a three-paragraph fic.
Javier eyed the bike, never having ridden one, but always associating their image with ‘freedom’. Smiling, he looked back at Rufus, a small twinkle in his eye, “You mean it? We could double? I walked here, actually, so…” Though it felt wrong to be so eager to take advantage of Rufus’ awesome ride, seeing as he was getting treated out to icecream and not driven there.
“If you don’t mind, ‘cause if you do then… I could always meet you there.”
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Another day, another successful sale. With a more practiced than genuine smile, Brixton placed the neatly folded expensive charcoal suit into its new home. It was a rather flat rectangular white box with gold trim around the edges, and in the center in small, clear deep green lettering was the store’s name. After placing on the lid and securing it with a bit of tape, he slid it into a plastic bag, all the while awaiting for his customer to finish signing their signature for their credit card payment. “Thank you for shopping with us, sir. Have a pleasant evening.” He gave a slight tilt of his head, passing off the bag with a recite before his smile dimmed every so slightly.
Another day, just the same as the others.
Well, almost. Lightly tapping the fingers of his upper set of hands on the counter top, being sure to keep his other set folded and out of sight, the man allowed his eyes to wander around the store. If his ears had been correct, there was someone new in the store. That, or someone had just left after his client had. Typically, Brixton would help to advise men on what would suit them best after doing a fitting, but for now the cashier was on lunch break, so he had to fill in both rolls until their return. This didn’t mean he had to be stuck behind the counter the entire time; the other employees could ring out their own sales by themselves.
Just as the man was about to mark off the day as typical, his eyes landed upon the biggest out-of-place sight he had seen in quite a while. There, several feet away at the opposite end of the store, crouched a man in a dark orange shirt and jeans. For a moment Brixton wondered if it was another person coming in to waste his time, but as he walked around the counter and headed his way with brisk, graceful steps, something told him that he should recognize this individual. That was enough to keep him interested, and as he rounded over to the man’s left side, his eyes widened ever so slightly at the familiar profile.
The man from The Candy Cane.
Though his initial reaction from their first brief encounter had been disgust, this time he was able to take a moment to think as the man examined a pair of shoes. That night Brixton had been flustered and confused, as well as horrified, but now with a clear head, all he saw was another being. Who was he to judge the dark skinned man on his clothing choice or profession? Everyone had their own reasons for doing things, just as he did. After all, Brixton, of all people, had no place to judge others. For now all this fellow was to him was another customer, and would be treated as such. Placing on his best business smile— a warm, friendly, personal one he had perfected over the years, he lightly cleared his throat in hopes to catch his attention.
He stood with his back straight and legs together, lower arms folded behind his back, one hand holding the other’s wrist while his upper set rested in the same fashion in front of him. The smile was used to tone down the threat of his sharp teeth; a particularly annoying set of four that always seemed to poke out form his upper lip. It took a few tries, but after lots of practice and experience, Brixton learned to go from horrifying to strangely enticing with his attire and expressions. It helped reel in more costumers, he found.
“Good evening, sir. Can I be of assistance to you?”
Javier blinked from his amazement and looked up from where he squatted, a sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his lips. Caught red handed, it seemed, acting more like a kid in the candy store than a potential buyer of fine suits. Standing up, he brushed himself off and for a moment was stunned at the man before him. While Brixton could forget Javier, for whatever reason he might have, it was nigh impossible for the orange shade to forget the other. With four arms, four sets of razor sharp teeth, an air of disdain, and the horrendous first encounter that was also his first day at work, Javier doubted he could ever forget Brixton.
Though, thankfully, the gent acted as if this was business as usual, letting no sign of unease or familiarity come through the polish exterior of elegance. That was a relief, at the very least, “It’s you! So you work here? It’s nice to see you again.” Of course, Javier could not be so courteous as to feign not knowing the other.
“Yeah, my boss wants me to get measured and then to buy a suit.” Javier’s grin seemed to grow wider at the thought of being measured up and buying one of these elegant peices of work, “Oh uh, but the suit has gotta be a specific price or cheaper.”
When the boss had handed over the check, Javier’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the number. $500 for a three piece suit, tie, and gloves. He’d never spent $500 on… Anything, really. Temptation had slithered into his heart when he touched the little check, to just take the money and run, but he had resisted with some pain.
Thrusting a hand into his pocket, he fished out the check and presented it to Brixton. It was crumpled and folded in half, but still clearly legible. “I’ve never been to a place like this before, with all the suits and it’s so clean and nice… I feel like royalty.” Javier chuckled softly, eyes flicking back and forth, never wanting to settle too long on a specific place in case he missed out on something else.
“Oh! Right, where’s my manners?” Javier abruptly returned his attention to Brixton as he thrust out a hand to be shook, “I’m Javier Vasquez… We didn’t really uhm.. I guess… Then we couldn’t really… Give formalities and stuff, but it’s nice to meet you! Again.”
(Source: spanish-orange, via purpleisforgentlemen-deactivate)
supersunglowy replied to your post: Um! Hi! I was. Uh. Woooow, this is awkward, yeah? Hehhe. But I was told by some kook inna cop outfit ta give ya a kiss? Um. Yeah. *kisses his cheek* Sorry ‘bout this, betcha it’s totes awkward, huh? Hehhe…heh….
Oh! Um, well, it’s nice ta meetcha, too! I’m Stella. Um. Sorry about the totes random kiss though, hehhe. I mean. If ya minded.
Oh! Not I didn’t mind at all. *He grins a little before chuckling* Actually it was pretty nice. I mean, getting a nice peck on the cheek by a sweet girl. Who would complain? So you’re Stella? Cool!
Javier double checked the address written on the crumpled notebook paper. This had to be the place. He felt awkward, in his jeans with torn out knees and dark orange top, standing before what was the classiest store he had ever seen. Greenwich Tailoring. He’d never owned a suit before, and now he was going to wear one just to strip out of it. Suit kinks… Who knew there were such things?
Walking through the front door, Javier was greeted with a light tinkle of bells. He smiled, eyeing the place in clear awe. It looked nice and smelled fresh, no dust or mold, or even clutter. Neat and proper and prim. He felt like a square peg in this round world shop. Such a shop was created for catering to a set of individuals cut from a different cloth.
“Wooooooooooooooooooaaaahhhhh….” Method one for becoming comfortable: Be yourself. Sure he fit in this place like an elephant in a tree, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be comfortable. People were already mingling in the store, talking in hushed voices over the tinkle of classic music that floated in the air. The soft scent of something expensive added to the dapper couture displayed on models. No one paid heed to the ruffian who meandered off the street. When it became apparent he was to be ignored, he started to explore, drawn like a moth to a flame to the displays. Gingerly he touched the fine silks of the suits, admiring the patterns and beauty. It felt like heaven to his rough fingers that were so used to cheap cotton and wool. Silk was something too marvelous to behold. Shyly he smiled and squatted down, admiring the polished black leather shoes that glinted in the store lights.
“Que rico…” He muttered, partially bemused, partially still in awe of this place.
My answer: darkredrufus
*It's during a strip dance, and Rufus doesn't even hesitate - just grabs Javier by the lapels of whatever shirt he's wearing tonight and GOES for it. It's hot and heavy and hell yes is Rufus in control of it. And then he pulls away amongst wolf whistles, and smacks Javier's ass - half just for the hell of it, and half to just drag his co-worker that much closer* Hey there~
The kiss is a shock, like an eletric finger digging into his skin. Every inch of his skin was aware of Rufus’ lips and hands and fuck, whatever else is near to those things. For a long moment his mind melts and the lips move to words unspoken, begging for more, to not end. Panting at the end of the kiss, Javier can’t help but bark a hoarse laughter out when Rufus spanks his ass. All part of the plan, all part of the play. Couples on stage to reel in cash, people loving to see two dudes making out.
For the first time a trickle of doubt runs down his mind, his resolution that this was an act. “Hey babe, need some citrus in your life.” With a wink he kisses him again, taking the upper hand to make it his kiss. It’s strong, it’s needy, and passionate. He ends it with a butt squeeze and an impish grin, the crowd practically in a jovial uproar at the treat.
My answer: supersunglowy
Um! Hi! I was. Uh. Woooow, this is awkward, yeah? Hehhe. But I was told by some kook inna cop outfit ta give ya a kiss? Um. Yeah. *kisses his cheek* Sorry 'bout this, betcha it's totes awkward, huh? Hehhe...heh....
Oh uh… /// W-wow well that was surprising. *grins* Nice to meet you? I’m Javier. <3