#she realizes oh so his whole gentlemanly thing is fake

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

drawing your ocs interacting with canon characters is something that can be so personal.

[babbysquid]

Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 2

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness thank you all for the positive feedback on NAWD! I’m really enjoying writing this and living out my own fantasy. The DRAMA begins in the part after this so prepare yourself for that!

Warnings: mild cursing

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

Sunday had passed by quickly and it was now Monday at 8am. Your interview was at 9. You studied your reflection in the mirror. You were wearing the outfit that Parker had helped you pick out but had the shirt buttoned all the way up. Grabbing your bag you and throwing on your shoes you looked at yourself one more time. Chewing the inside of your cheek you took a deep breath.

“Fuck it.” you whispered to and you unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt, just as Parker had done previously.

You stood outside a tall office building and looked up. It looked modern and new, but not imposing. Swallowing hard you pushed your shoulders back, raised your head up, and strutted through the front door. Fake it til you make it as they say.

“Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” you said to the receptionist at the front desk. “I have an interview with Mr. Daniels.”

“Ah yes Mr. Daniels has been expecting you. Give me one second and I’ll take you to his office.” said the receptionist.

“Ah it’s okay Sara, I got it.” said a voice from behind you.

Turning around you saw a gorgeous woman. She wore a white button down and black slacks. Her short haircut was modern and cute. It suited her face really well. Thick glasses sat on the edge of her nose. She gave you a kind smile. Looking at her outfit and her appearance in general you suddenly felt self conscious. Maybe you should’ve stuck with the fully buttoned up shirt.

“I’m Ginger.” she said, extending her hand.

You took her hand in yours as you introduced yourself and the two of you walked to the elevators.

“So you have an interview with Jack?”

You nodded.

She laughed a little and it almost seemed like she was taking pity on you.

“He’s a good guy, but he’s definitely a character. He means well though.”

You smiled back. New York City was definitely filled with interesting and strange people. Your mind quickly thought back to the cowboy you met on Friday.

The elevator dinged and stirred you from your thoughts. Ginger guided you to a pair of mahogany doors.

“Well. This is where I leave you. Good luck Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a deep breath you knocked on the door and waited. A second later you heard some footsteps and you mentally prepared yourself for whoever was inside. The door swung open and your jaw dropped. You couldn’t help it.

Before you stood the same cowboy that had prevented your fall. Quickly you snapped your jaw shut. He was just as handsome as you remember, if not more handsome. He was still wearing his black stetson. Instead of the long camel coat he wore when he was in the park he was wearing a blazer with matching slacks. The blazer had a classic cowboy look but was still somehow modern. You flicked your eyes down to confirm your guess, he was wearing cowboy boots. He was wearing a pair of simple wire glasses and they looked good on him.

“Well isn’t this a coincidence?” said the man, “Come in, please.”

He stepped aside allowing you to enter the office.

For as modern as the building appeared, Mr. Daniels’ office felt lived in and warm. It was covered in mahogany and leather. An old globe sat on a shelf and other bits and bobs decorated the office, including what appeared to be a cow skull. You didn’t realize you were staring until Mr. Daniels’ honeyed voice made you blink.

“It’s real if that’s what you’re thinking.” he said.

You turned and realized he was much closer than you thought, practically close enough to touch you. You swallowed hard. He smelled good.

“Well let’s get started, shall we?” he said, stepping back and motioning to a chair that sat in front of his desk.

Wordlessly you moved to the chair and sat down. The whole act of confidence you had suddenly vanished. Mr. Daniels was slightly intimidating and holy hell was he attractive.

“Now Y/N — you don’t mind if I call you that?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“Y/N is fine yes.” you said, slightly unsure about the familiarity. Your previous job you were never addressed by your first name, it was always Ms. Y/L/N.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, swiveling in his chair to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from behind him.

You smiled, appreciating the offer but politely declined.

“I’m actually not a whiskey drinker.” you said. Mr. Daniels laughed loudly as if he knew something you didn’t.

“I know it’s odd that I’m here interviewing for a whiskey company Mr. Daniels—

“Please, call me Jack.” he interrupted.

“…Jack,” you said slowly “but I promise I’ll be dedicated even if it’s not my drink of choice.”

Jack smiled and poured himself a glass of the amber liquid. Leaning back in his chair he studied you. Feeling his gaze on you, you gave him a small smile, trying to convince him that you really would work hard.

“Well Y/N,” he said after a second, “you got the job!”

Your brows furrowed. There was absolutely no way he was serious. He only asked if you wanted a drink, the company’s drink no less, and you said no. No interview questions, no asking for documents or recommendations. Nothing.

“I know you might be surprised but here at Statesmen we like to do things a little differently. And don’t worry about not liking whiskey. Who knows though, you may warm up to it.” he said, giving you a wink.

“This certainly was the easiest interview I’ve ever done.” you whispered under your breath. But according to the booming laugh that came out of the man sitting in front of you, your whisper wasn’t quiet enough.

“I assure you Y/N that you’ve already gone through an extensive interview process. The company has contacted past employers of yours and done copious amount of research and background checks into your resume. It may have been easy on your end, but not on ours.”

‘Certainly the weirdest interview I’ve ever done too.’ you thought.

“Well!” said Jack, clasping his hands together and standing up from his chair. “You start tomorrow. Let me give you a quick tour so you can settle in easy tomorrow.” In a flash he was around the desk and holding his hand out to you, a million dollar smile on his face.

Letting out a short breath you pushed away your anxiety and trepidation. If this was gonna be your new job you may as well start acting like your normal self. You grabbed his hand with assurance and stood up from your seat.

Neither one of you moved.

Standing there your eyes were glued to the sight of your hand being dwarfed by his. Slowly your eyes moved up to meet Jack’s. They were the most gorgeous shade of brown. Dark but still with a warmth and spark that drew you in. The glasses he wore framed them perfectly. Subconsciously you lightly bit your bottom lip. You blinked and the trance was broken. Slowly you removed your hand from his, but your palm was still tingling from the skin to skin contact.

“Thank you by the way.” you said breaking the silence.

Jack gave you that smile again and it felt like your internal organs had been turned to soup.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’. I’m quick on my feet and happened to see a beautiful young woman in need so I helped.”

You almost choked at the words he spoke.

“Let me show you to your space.” said Jack, his hand moving to lightly sit on the middle of your back.

In any other professional circumstance if someone did this to you you’d immediately call HR. In this instance however Jack’s gesture felt comforting and gentlemanly, not creepy and an intrusion of personal space. To summarize, you enjoyed his touch.

The two of you strode out the doors and walked a short distance down the hall to a door. Leading you inside Jack explained how this would be your personal office. You had never had a private space just for yourself in your workplace. You laughed softly.

“Something funny?” said Jack, looking down at you, hand still on your back.

“Never had my own space before. This place is almost bigger than my apartment.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Jack swallowed thickly. Your big eyes were something else and certainly affecting him.

“Hah. Well I just hope you don’t move in here! Gotta have a separation between work and play.” said Jack, winking at you.

You could feel your face heating up at the comment as Jack led you out of the room and your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. Unbeknownst to you, so was Jack’s. He wasn’t expecting his new PA to be the gorgeous girl from the park. Admittedly he had thought about you a couple times since, beating himself up for not inviting you to coffee or something.

Outside of your new office stood Ginger.

“Ah sweet Ginger!” said Jack, removing his hand from your back. You silently mourned the loss of contact.

“This is my new peach of an assistant Y/N.”

“I know Jack.” said Ginger, rolling her eyes. “How do you think she found your office?”

“Always one step ahead Miss Ginger.” said Jack, flashing his smile again.

“Come with me Y/N and we’ll get you put in the system.”

“Pleasure meeting you darlin’ and I cannot wait til tomorrow.” said Jack, winking one last time before turning on his heel and sauntering back into his office.

“Is he always like that?”

“He’s always been a ladies man. You may be his assistant but make sure he knows who’s in charge. Keep him on a short leash.”

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

“So how was it?” Parker asked, taking a bite out of her pizza. She had come over to eat dinner with you and get all the juicy details about the job interview.

“Weird. I mean I got the job, but it was still weird.”

“First off yay! Secondly, what do you mean weird?”

“Well the building was way more high tech than I expected but the thing that was the weirdest was the interview itself. The only thing he asked me was if I wanted a glass of whiskey.”

“To which you said no.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off.

“I know that look Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

“Jack Daniels is the cowboy from the park.”

Thankfully Parker had swallowed her bite of pizza before hearing this, otherwise there’d be a chewed up wad of cheese on your floor.

“WHAT?”

“He was acting kind of flirty too.”

“So you did unbutton the shirt!” Parker said, a look of pride on her face.

“Parker that’s not the point. Afterwards when I was talking to the head of networking and media she explained that Jack is like this with every woman. The hat I need to show him who’s in charge, even if he is my boss.”

“That’s hot.” said Parker taking another bite.

“Shut up he’s my boss.” you said, pushing her shoulder. “I get what she’s saying though. I’ve dealt with guys like that before. Admittedly they were in their 20s and went to the same college as me and weren’t actually adults who I worked with.”

“How old does this guy look anyways?” Clearly Parker had a different agenda than you.

“Parker…” you gave her a glare.

“Okay okay message received.” she put up her hands in mock defense.

You looked down at your pizza slice and picked at the bit of cheese that had slid off of it.

“So how’re you gonna fend him off while still creating a good relationship?”

“Guess I gotta use that stubbornness you were talking about earlier.” you said giving her a small grin.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence

[random-mha-thoughts]

Mama’s Boy/Lover’s Boy (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Inspo: “Down for You” by Cosmo’s Midnight/Ruel

Summary: Bakugou hates being dragged to fancy parties for many reasons, but only one thing makes it all worth it.

Word Count: 2,322

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n:  I absolutely adore this picture, ngl that was the whole inspo for this.

It's not fair that a whole Katsuki exists while I'm bleeding out and my hormones are out of whack.  I'M A LOYAL SHOUTO HO, STAY IN YOUR LANE KATSUKI!  DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY INSTABILITY LIKE THIS!

When I was at the last few paragraphs, I realized I would've loved to let Baku lose his shit and almost crash the entire thing like in Murphy's Law (man I loved writing that), but that wouldn't be good.  We love a good chaotic fluff monster.

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, but I really like how it turned out!  Definitely more fluff than I expected, but who's mad at that?  I'm bleeding out of my uterus and my mom and dad got me feverish and sick and I definitely needed this, so I KNOW you Baku stans are gushing at this too.  Thanks to @rubyred-imagines​ for one of the story beats here!

Spice might be incoming in the next day or two ;3  Not sure which character yet, but it's gonna happen!

"Babe, your face."

"What about it?!"

"Stop looking like you want to kill everyone."

"But I do!"

"I know you do, but don't look it."

Katsuki walks into the grand hall, muscular arm linked through his dazzling girlfriend's slender one.  He really doesn't want to be here; he hates these high-class, uptight gatherings, he hates this constricting tuxedo he has to wear, he hates how he barely knows anyone here, and he especially hates that he could've been on a date with her alone instead of being surrounded by these suffocating faces.

His lovely girlfriend announced this unfortunate outing a few weeks ago right before Katsuki was going to suggest the idea of having a date night, since they haven't had any quality alone time together in a while.  Her eyes lit up when she reported that she RSVP-ed for both of them to attend her company's fancy dinner.  And his plans were crushed like that.  He wanted to grumble and refuse, but she'd yell right back at him anyway, being the stubborn person she is.

She reminds him of his mother.

"You're just like my mom," Katsuki rolls his eyes.  "She used to drag me to her company dinners all the time, too."

"We won't stay for long, I promise," she pats his arm with her perfectly manicured fingernails.

"She used to say that too, and then we'd be out for hours," he mumbles to himself.

The girl looks up at him sweetly.  "And you'll be a good boyfriend and stay here with me the whole time, right?"

The blond growls low in his throat.  "I don't even belong here, you were invited, not me."

"Katsuki, you're my guest, of course you belong here."  She leans up to whisper in his ear, "Besides, you're more handsome than any of the guys here, show them all up."

That makes Katsuki smirk.  "Damn right I am, babe."

The couple find their table after an irritating amount of time.  Every few steps, some other pretentious stranger from his girlfriend's company sweeps over to exchange empty kisses and the same empty conversation.  Katsuki thinks it's some kind of script everyone practiced from, no one deviating from the script or else the entire simulation might fall apart.  Actually, he would like to say something inappropriate just to relish their horrified or disgusted faces, but he for the sake of his precious girlfriend, he keeps his mouth shut, teeth grit, and smile plastered each time he's introduced to a new face.

"Do you really know everyone here, babe?" Katsuki mutters in her ear as they finally approach the table.

"Not everyone," she hums in response, "I don't know most of the employees from the other two companies here, but I know the higher-ups through my boss."

He briefly remembers her saying this dinner was for a big merger deal between these three companies.  His girlfriend works tirelessly for her boss, usually taking on more than she can handle and coming home late most nights.  She'd been promoted from just being a regular company worker to being in a near-the-top position right under the main board managers.  He admires her dedication, but he's always worried about her health and energy level.  He may be a Pro Hero, but she's the real superhuman in the relationship.

Katsuki does the gentlemanly thing of pulling the chair out for his lady and pushing her back in before settling in his seat next to her, purposely shifting closer to her than the person on his other side.

"What manners your boyfriend has," one of the older ladies at the table coos at the couple.

"Thank you, I'm very grateful to have him," the girl smiles politely in response.

Katsuki's heart melts at the pride dripping from her voice as she compliments him.  "And I'm very lucky to have her."  It felt like the right thing to say as he squeezes her hand under the table and briefly glances into her eyes.

The two don't tear away from each other until someone else approaches his girlfriend and she stands to greet him briefly.  Katsuki surveys him in case he would do something ballsy to his girlfriend.

She turns and places a hand on Katsuki's shoulder.  "This is my boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou."

Hell yeah, I am, you better not pull anything, dumbass.  He stands and shakes the other man's hand, polite but stiff.

"Nice to meet you.  Your girlfriend is honestly a powerhouse, she's amazing," the man gushes.

"Yes, I'm aware," the blond replies tersely.  He's on guard because he doesn't get a good vibe from this man.

Sure enough, he goes on a little too animatedly about how much his girlfriend does for the company and the rest of the company.  It comes off to Katsuki as fake and kiss-ass.  Nonetheless, his girlfriend accepts all the compliments like the graceful goddess she is.  He realizes this boy is one of his girlfriend's juniors as they descend into a conversation surrounding work and future projects.

After dismissing him, another group of his girlfriend's underlings rushes over with compliments and "Oh my gosh, senpai!  You look amazing!" and the like.  Each time, she would accept the praise, introduce him, before launching into more work-related subject matter that Katsuki learned to tune out eventually.

Honestly, he's annoyed at how everyone here is overwhelmingly toxic.  All the subordinates or peers are kiss-ups and her superiors are pretentious stick-up-their-asses that look down on his girlfriend.  He can't stand that his lover is surrounded by this atmosphere all day.  They don't know the genuine type of person she is, other than that she's kind and easy to walk all over.  No one seems like they care enough to carry genuine conversation, and he'd rather not tune into that energy.

Instead, Katsuki directs his attention to his lovely girlfriend.  Staring at her face, he recalls how painstakingly long it took for her to paint her face with makeup to look this flawless.  He's sure she would've had a mental breakdown while doing her eyes, especially putting on her eyeliner.  She was chanting to herself cutely to get them even, almost coaxing her shaky hands in front of the mirror to perform some kind of magic.  If he had done the wrong thing and hurried her or teased her habits, she would've unleashed all her anger on him.  He's learned that the hard way.  In the end, she was able to achieve this masterpiece on her face without making herself look like a completely different person, highlighting her natural beauty.

Scanning downward to her dress, he remembers fondly going shopping with her last weekend.  Her hair was in a topknot as she fumbled through the racks for a dress to wear.  She had dragged him along because she trusted his opinion on fashion choices.  While he would've liked for her to choose a scarlet red gown, Katsuki knew she'd look infinitely better in the sapphire blue number she's wearing now.  The skinny straps holding the dress up leads down to a not-too-plunging neckline that suits her shoulders, collarbone, and chest perfectly.  The dress cinches in at the waist to emphasize the figure he knows she has before falling straight down from her hips, and the mid-thigh slit on one side is subtly sexy without having her risk overexposure.  Finishing the entire outfit is a classic pair of nude pumps, a dainty gold necklace, matching dangling earrings, and a clutch matching her shoes.  Her hair is curled in waves cascading down her back with some stands hanging over one shoulder.

Katsuki can't help but smile unconsciously.  He can't wait to someday place the finishing touch she deserves: a simple but elegant ring on her left hand.

After all the formalities, the two finally sit down and start eating the dinner courses that have started gracing their place settings.

"I know you wanted to go out for date night today," his girlfriend begins gently, "But we can imagine this is a fancy restaurant with just us two, and everything else is just a backdrop."

"Shouldn't you be paying attention to what's going on?" Katsuki quirks an eyebrow.

She waves her hand and takes a refined sip of her wine.  "I've already heard them practice this speech too many times."

The devilish blond smirks and slinks closer to her.  "That's not something a good employee would do, is it?"

"I'm not working right now," she smoothly responds back, replicating his energy.

The organizer of the dinner finally takes the stage and starts his speech.  Katsuki keeps his gaze on his beautiful girlfriend, admiring her delicately picking and eating at her plate.  She's so precious to him, he doesn't care if he's making heart eyes and everyone can see.

When the speech finishes, his girlfriend's glass also empties and she indicates that she's going to get another.  It leaves him on edge, he hates being alone with all these strangers even for a few minutes.  He doesn't want to tell you this, but if one of these people try to small talk him without you here, he might actually break something.

"So, Bakugou, what do you do?" the same lady from earlier chirps at him.

He whips his head up.  For fuck's sake.  "I'm a...public safety worker of sorts."  He tries so hard to sound polite for his girlfriend's sake.  He also can't resist scanning the room for her as a safety reflex.  With all the shady people around, he doesn't trust that something bad won't happen.  And he also wants your comfort in these uncomfortable situations, but he'll never admit that either.

"Oh, I see."  The old lady seems satisfied with his tone, barely noticing his fidgeting as she launches into a whole story about her grandson wanting to do something like that, and all the tangents related to that.

Katsuki is relieved that he doesn't have to talk for the rest of the time, just nodding along  and humming to prove he's passively listening.  He finally spots his angel a few tables away, groaning internally that she was stopped by someone, keeping her from coming back to him.  It seems they were having a deep conversation at first, but suddenly the man cracks a smile and a joke that makes her cover her mouth in respectful laughter.

Katsuki's annoyance is cut through at her wholehearted display of emotions.  The entire night, he's been complaining about how much he hates everyone here, but it's only now he realizes how relaxed she looks in the entire situation.  She's completely in her element; he'd get easily drained by all the suffocating small talk, but her?  She thrives off this, she gains energy from it.  Although she comes home late, overworked and tired, she still faces every day with a smile on her face.  She makes it look so easy to talk to people, striking up and following conversations with everyone in the most endearing and poised way possible.

Katsuki smiles to himself, warmth washing over him.  Yes, just like his mom, but it makes his girlfriend all the more stunning and admirable in his eyes.

His girlfriend finally returns to the table, her recently-acquired glass already half empty.  "What did I miss?" she asks, buzzing with both energy and alcohol.

Katsuki leans his head on his palm.  "Nothing much."  He's still basking in the glow of his wonderful girlfriend, casually sipping his own wine absently.

She turns towards the clearing in the center of the room and takes his free hand.  "Let's go dance, babe!"

Any other time, Katsuki would have sternly declined, but he can't resist her today.  Without a single complaint, he rises and lets her drag him by their entwined hands to the dance floor.  Guiding his large hand around her waist as her one hand plants to his shoulder, she raises their joined hands and starts swaying them to the classic orchestral ensemble's upbeat performance.

The man doesn't know if it's the overwhelming feeling of pride he recently uncovered, or the way their bodies press together gently as he inhales her floral perfume, but he can't find the words to describe everything he wants to say. He settles on simply smiling warmly down at her as he whispers, "You're amazing, you know that?"

His girlfriend's cheeks flush and she erupts into giggles.  "What's with the sudden compliment?"

He shakes his head.  "I just realized it, that's all.  Just like my mom."

"You sure are a Mama's boy, aren't you?"

He scoffs at the idea.  "I love the old hag, but I'll never tell her that.  Besides, I'd say I'm whipped for a different woman in my life."  He brushes hair behind her ear, her earring glinting against the light, and places a kiss on her perfect temple.  "You look stunning tonight."

His girlfriend's eyes close in half-lidded affection.  "I'm sorry this isn't the perfect date night you wanted."

The blond leans his forehead on her's, slowing their pace to allow time to pass much more leisurely around them.  "I get to dance with you, I think that's a definite win."

"I guess so."

Katsuki comes to realize that he can be forced to come to all of these events.  All that matters is his enchanting lover and her smile.  When the night is over, he can't wait to let her take her heels off and carry her bridal style to their car as everyone watches in envy and awe.  He'd let her recline and rest her weary feet, telling her stories of his adventures of night outings with his mom to lull her to sleep in his passenger seat.  And then he'd carry her sleeping figure up to their bedroom and wake her gently so she can clean herself up and change into her cute pajamas, just so they can cuddle in each other's warmth until they fall asleep.

Maybe he's not a Mama's boy anymore.  More like he's a Lover's boy.

[docholligay]

SM rewrite: any of haruka's first times meeting the inners

EPisode 92! 1960 words, I hope you enjoy, I AM HAVING FUN TODAY

“He’s SO HOT, Mina.” 

Usagi was off on yet another one of her larks, talking about some guy she’d seen at the arcade. She’d thought, at first, that she was talking about Motoki, who Mina took to be her current obsession who was not Mamoru of the moment, but maybe that had been several moments ago. It was hard to tell with Usagi. 

People always took her and Usagi to be alike, and if that gave Mina the benefit of being underestimated, that was fine with her. And it was true, that they both liked attractive people, in a way, but Mina was more of a freelancer, moving from this flower to that like a brilliant butterfly with no particular link to any one person, while Usagi fell in love with every man she ever met. 

That too. Usagi was still under the impression that she was straight, and the delusion might yet follow her all the way to the wedding altar. That, in particular, was none of Mina’s business, who had realized since the age of 12 that attractive was attractive in her eyes, which became the fact that a bedroom was a bedroom, as she got older, and what it might say on someone’s driver’s license or facebook held little notice for her when it was time to go home. 

Dating, on the other hand--well, she wasn’t bold enough to tell Usagi to never date a man, if she had other options, not while she was still enamored of Mamoru, but she certainly thought it hard enough. Mina had learned that lesson quickly. Men were like riding a roller coaster, exhilarating and fun, for a quick ride, but eventually you just get sick. 

Usagi had not yet learned this, and it was in this that Minako allowed her to keep your youthful naivete. She had time yet to learn. 

“His name is HARUKA,” she swung her bag around, “I heard the cashier say it. Isn’t that dreamy?” 

Mina chuckled, “It’s one of the most popular names in Japan, Usagi. I go to school with like, 4 Harukas.” 

“Well, it seems different on him!” She gave a little scowl and a stomp of her foot, but then smiled brightly and whipped around, “Come to the arcade with me and see him!” She narrowed her eyes playfully, “We can compete to see who he’ll fall in love with.” 

This was the point at which Rei would have chimed in that Usaig had a boyfriend, if she had denied to leave off from her shrine duties and hang out with them after school, but she hadn’t, and Mina didn’t see why something like a boyfriend should get in the way of a good time. 

“Amazing. I hope you like losing.” Mina cackled as she swanned toward The Crown. She hadn’t been in a while, not for any particular reason, other than she was doing a bunch of back work for a hostess club, which she hoped would hire her as a hostess the absolute second she turned 18. Unfortunately, they were too above-board to hire her for anything at the front right now. It was less than a year. She’d live. 

Usagi rushed into the Crown, ever with the perfect idea of how to act casual, and gazed immediately over to the racing game in the corner, hand under her chin as she leaned against an old copy of Pacman. 

“There he is!!!” she stage whispered, hissing as she grabbed Mina’s hand. 

She sighed and turned to tell Usagi that he was going to hear them, but he didn’t look over even at all, and Mina’s brow twitched as she noticed it. His hearing must not be anything to write home about. He was wearing a blazer over the top of a sweater, over the top of a collared shirt, which seemed a bit like overkill to Mina, but hey, maybe he was cold. 

MIna walked over to him, Usagi half-tiptoeing behind in a way that Haruka would find either cute or incredibly unsettling, and based on that, Mina would change her strategy. It was all a sort of chess game, flirting and seduction, and with men maybe it wasn’t even chess. Checkers, or something.

“Hi!” Usagi popped up, “Good afternoon! We saw that you were playing alone here, and were wondering, you know!” 

Mina looped her arm across the back of the car seat, and leaned against it. “Care for a friendly game?” 

Haruka ruffled his hair, and looked up at her, and Mina nearly burst out laughing. She hadn’t noticed, with the bulkiness of the blazer and other entrappings, and she hadn’t looked hard enough when she’d been standing with Usagi, but looking now, there was no mistake. Haruka wasn’t a man at all. Oh, she was tall, and gangly, and even given the sweater probably fairly flat-chested, but there was the unmistakable fullness of her lip, the softness of her brow, the way she looked at Usagi and Mina. Mina was a bit of an expert, in these matters. 

She looked over to Usagi. No reason not to let this play out. Why not, she’d earned some fun. Maybe Usagi would have a moment of realization--Mina doubted she’d ever seen a butch lesbian outside of Takarazuka, and those women were made up to the high heavens, more drag than the genuine article. 

So she smiled. 

“Just a race or two.” 

Usagi started to stammer, and step in front of her, but Mina dodged it effortlessly. Why have one bit of fun, when she could have two? Besides, Usagi may have been wrong about Haruka being a boy, but she wasn’t wrong about a certain quality of rough handsomeness that she carried, that sort of young, gentlemanly way, with a touch of insecurity, that Mina sometimes found very winning about the younger butch set. She could have a worse time. 

“Sure,” Haruka smiled, and nodded, then added, “I always like to play with a pretty girl.” 

Her voice was deep, but not overly so, and Mina found the feminine lilt at the end of her sentences quite charming. She rather liked butches, when it came down to it. They had a habit of picking up the charming parts of masculinity while letting the rest rot where it belonged. 

MIna slid in next to her. She smelled good, like sandalwood and maybe a touch of motor oil, which Mina wouldn’t have thought would be charming. Usagi was salivating as they put their coins into the slot, but she stood and watched Mina. She’d played this game plenty of times, and beaten Usagi at it nearly every time, save when Motoki accidentally spilled a drink on her in the middle of a race. This wouldn’t be too hard, but she would be careful not to humiliate Haruka, and maybe even let her win in the last stretch--

She looked over to the map. Haruka was already out in front, her car on full manual and effortlessly gliding through it, swinging the wheel and tapping on the brake and gas at perfect intervals. 

Minako, for a moment, became just a little enraged. She hadn’t even wanted to win before this moment, but for her to be beaten so easily, by whatever putz of a nerd was too old to be hanging out in an arcade but clearly WAS hanging out in an arcade, on an afternoon, and didn’t she have a job or college or something to go to? 

She slammed down on the gas, trying desperately to catch up, to make a better showin, but Haruka just kept going and going, hitting checkpoints without a second thought, not even the slightest amount of wrinkle to her forehead. 

Besides all that, Usagi was laughing and clapping her hands like the damn fool she was. 

Mina tried to weave around the fake traffic in her way, but ended up broadsiding a bus full of fake schoolchildren, and she imagined their fake screams echoing her own as the Game Over flashed across the screen. She quite forgot her seduction, in the moment, as she slapped the middle of the steering wheel and laid her head down on it. 

“I can’t believe I lost that bad!” 

Haruka chuckled, “No, you actually did pretty good.” 

Mina straightened up, smoothed her hair, and tried to regain herself. 

“Sorry, it’s just,” she giggled, “I get so competitive. The uh….heat of the moment, you know what I mean?” 

Haruka looked at her with a slightly confused sideways grin. “Sure.” 

“Oh but I am sorry, Haruka, mother was forever at lunch, sometimes I swear she asks for things only to see the human limit of what a waiter will bear before smoke begins to run from his ears. It was never my intention to keep you waiting.” 

“Oh, that’s okay.” 

Mina saw Game Over flash across the screen a second time as Haruka looked at the woman who had just entered. 

She was unquestionably beautiful, with a delicately rounded face that suggested a touch of foreignness at the eyes, eyes in green or blue but also somehow both, shifting a bit as the tides. Her hair was elegantly curled to her shoulders, and her carriage was straight and practiced, a show dog out for the afternoon with all the regular mutts. She wore a finely tailored blouse of silk with a demurely pleated skirt, round toe leather on that fit her perfectly on her feet, a bag at her side that was the sort of designer you wore if you were too polished for garishness of advertising that you wore designer. The whole of her felt wrong in the crown, like placing Italian marble in a kid’s playplace, and she smelled of rose and jasmine. 

But none of that was what stopped Mina in her tracks, no, wealth and polish was not enough to frighten her off. It was the look Haruka gave her, that wide-eyed gaze like a tourist standing in front of some great masterwork, and the softness with which she had responded. Mina didn’t know if they were together, or if they weren’t but she knew one thing for sure: 

Haruka was desperately smitten. She could have competed with Usagi for stupid in love, at that point. She and Usagi were getting nowhere with this one. 

Haruka rose to her feet, taking her bag and tossing it over her shoulder in one motion. MIchiru turned to leave the arcade, and Haruka gave a nod back to Usagi. 

“Hey, uh, you with the buns,” She smiled and tossed her hair, “We should play next time.” 

Usagi’s eyes damn near became hearts, but Mina just gave a half-hearted wave and a nod. There were fights you could win, and fights you couldn’t win, and Minako Aino didn’t ever throw effort straight into a fire. She had more of a sense of self-preservation than that. 

Haruka turned to walk next to her companion, who gave her the smallest closed-mouth smile. 

“Well, aren’t we making friends so quickly today?” 

Haruka chuckled. “You jealous or something?” She looked at the woman with what Mina noted was a mix of hope and fear. 

“Oh, terribly.” she answered. This woman knew exactly what Mina knew.

Haruka shook her head, unable to keep up the ruse. “They’re high school girls,” she shrugged, “ They seem like such little kids. But they’re cute, right?” 

“As kittens.” Noted the elegant woman, as they breezed out the door. 

There was a pause for a moment as even Motoki stood beside them to watch them leave, the perfume still hanging in the air as if the entire place were surrounded by petals. Usagi put her hands on her hips. 

“Is it just me, or were they both ridiculously good-looking?”

[whenimaunicorn]

The Heart of Admiration - Part 5

Charles Vane x Original Female Character

The slow burn just might be heating up as these two disaster pirates find themselves in a Fake Marriage situation... with maybe a There Was Only One Bed thrown in for good measure. What can I say I write what I love.

Catch up on the start of the story with the links here

A/N: yes, you may find the opening scene feeling familiar. I did decide to include “Charles, Darling” as a part of Hope’s story. I hope you enjoy revisiting that that little moment and seeing what it turns into next.

“Watch your hands. She’s mine.” Captain Vane’s arm wraps tight around Hope’s waist, pulling her in snug against his body.

She bites her tongue, trying not to display either surprise or displeasure, and forces her furrowing brow to smooth. Is he really doing this right now? She hadn’t even known he was in this tavern. Although, while she fervently resents being rescued from a man’s advances in in such a demeaning fashion, it is also true that she had no idea how she was going to handle her current predicament without ruining everything by resorting to violence.

The man crowding Hope at the bar, a Mr. Fellows, takes half a step back. Vane is a bared saber all on his own, his very presence and dark look just as threatening as a pistol in one’s hand. Hope supposes this is one of those times that he is worth wielding, and she wraps her hand over his thick wrist at her waist. Sinking into him the way a relieved wife ought to, she pats the back of his hand. “There you are, Charles darling.” His breath catches at her term of endearment, and she figures he is trying not to laugh at her. “Calm yourself, I’ve barely been out of your sight for ten minutes! I know how you fret, but please, don’t take it out on this poor man.”

The less rational part of her would like nothing more than to watch Vane smash Mr. Fellows’ face in, after the things he’d been saying to her, but she could not set loose his wrath for the same reason she hadn’t been reaching for her own belt-knife: Fellows had turned out to be the contact that the Ranger’s officers had been scouring the whole of Port Royal for. Without his cooperation, this entire voyage will have turned out to be for nothing. She couldn’t let the secret fortune he had reportedly stumbled upon slip away jut because she felt offended.

Fellows clears his throat with a nervous noise.

Vane’s still staring down at Hope in his arms. She knows the mark in front of them is more important, can’t be allowed to slip away now that the game has been changed, but she also can’t quite tear her gaze away from Captain Vane’s face either. He’s never held her like this before; she’s never let him get so close. She becomes aware of how fast her heart is beating, and she’s not certain she can attribute the entirety of its pace to anger at Mr. Fellows’ bad behavior.

“N-newlyweds?” the man stutters, offering up a handy excuse. Oh, how quickly a man’s attitude can change, when a bigger dick walks into the room.

“Yes,” Vane smiles to him. It’s a false smile, wide and too cheerful, something Hope’s never seen spread across his face, but Fellows wouldn’t know that. Certainly the lopsided grin is fitting for the ruse. He hugs her even closer, his big hand spreading up the side of her bodice, and even leans in to press a kiss to the side of her forehead.

Shameless. His affection would be positively bawdy in the more respectable circles she once walked in, but it fits the dirty alehouse just fine.

She watches Fellows stiffen; Vane must have resumed his usual scowl abruptly above her head. “And I don’t take kindly to anyone bothering my wife. If—”

She cut him off before moods can sour any further. “Darling, it’s just a misunderstanding.” She turns her face up, willing him with the force of her eyes to pay attention. “This is Mr. Fellows. And he has some very interesting stories to tell.”

Vane’s brows crease; from the flash of annoyance in his face it’s apparent that at first he thinks she’s just trying to confound him. His embrace tightens, and then she sees it click. He gives the man another look. “Is that so. Well then. I’m Charles Vane, captain of the Ranger.” He extends his right hand for a friendly shake. “How about I buy us a round, and we’ll all sit and talk a while.” Even when he tries to sound gentlemanly, that scraping growl of a voice he has still sounds like a threat.

Fellows’ eyes shift back and forth in rapid thought, and Hope can see that he’s got an idea now what’s going on, that she had not started chatting him up by accident. His face starts to glower, but he’s not looking at the door so she doesn’t think she’s lost the chance at making a deal with him. She just has to change the stratagem, now, to incorporate Vane’s looming presence.

Vane signals the barmaid, and draws Hope toward an open table. His arm stays decidedly around her waist. While she doesn’t think it’s quite necessary to keep selling the marriage ruse this hard, she’s not going to ruin it by pushing him away.

It’s only after he plops down in a seat that she realizes the table he’s chosen only has two chairs. Fellows assumes the other, and to Hope’s surprise Vane tries to pull her down into his lap. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and she realizes that all this is not just for Fellows’ benefit; Vane is having fun with her.

She decides not to make a scene by resisting physically. But as soon as she’s seated across his thighs, she looks down at him crossly. “Charles. Darling. Get me a chair.”

A boyish grin is tugging at the edges of his lips. “I thought you said my lap was the best seat in the house.”

Oh, how she wants to smack him. And yet she finds herself wanting to smile too. “Just because when we met, I was acting like an alehouse strumpet, does not mean you get the show every night.” His scarred brow raises, and she feels a thrill she doesn’t quite understand. “I am a wife now. And a ranking member of your crew. And I will comport myself as such.” She comes back to her feet imperiously, ignoring the feeling of Vane’s fingers trailing reluctantly off her body. She grabs a chair from another table and turns it around, seating herself between the two men. She doesn’t miss the knowing look that passes from Fellows to Vane. If Fellows thinks she’s a veritable ball-buster, all the better.

“You still owe me the rest of that story,” Hope says with a broad smile. She turns the charm back on, even though that’s what had gotten her a little in over her head in the first place.  She feels Vane looming over her shoulder. And ignores him. “Where was the galleon going?”

“What galleon?” Vane’s rumble rips into the conversation, and his palm slides to rest upon her thigh, just above her knee.

Fellows’s pockmarked cheek twitches, but Hope brightens her smile, and he focuses back on her. With Vane here, she realizes, posing as her husband, it’s actually safer to keep pushing that edge, to continue to use Mr. Fellows’s attraction to her to captivate him. “Be a dear and start the story over?” The barmaid slaps three mugs on the table and Hope lifts one to hand it directly to him herself. “Otherwise he’ll never catch up.” She jerks her shoulder at Vane without looking, still holding Fellows’ eyes with a grin and a mischievous quirk to her brow.

Vane’s fingers tighten on her thigh.

It’s damned distracting, that hand. Hope does her best to just let it lie there, using it, an incongruous little reminder that however much Fellows might be enjoying her saucy remarks, her ‘husband’ is still in the room. Any possibility of dalliance that her eyes might be suggesting over the rim of her cup will have to wait for another time to be made plain. But the weight of Vane’s palm never quite leaves her awareness, nor its warmth, especially not when his thumb starts stroking a line up and down the surprisingly sensitive edge of her knee.

Fellows is cautious, but Hope is ever tenacious. Vane plays his part by leaning back, oblivious at the times when he needs to be, listening to Fellows’ tale of mysterious supply ships headed toward an unknown location. His stony face brings just enough skepticism to the table that Fellows works harder to impress, divulges more details than he meant to as he brags about his lead. And Hope is right there at his elbow, encouraging his tale, imploring Vane to take it seriously until it seems that her and Fellows are a team together, attempting to convince the captain of the Ranger to believe the man’s story, and consider taking him on. Now that she’d found her angle on him, Fellows is proving to be an easy mark.

After all, they’d come to Port Royal because Fellows was not as coy as he thought he was. Rumors had spread that there was a fisherman who might have stumbled upon the location of a new British supply dump, some island so unknown and un-frequented that the Navy felt confident they could use it to stockpile munitions and other valuable sundries. This fisherman was supposedly a less-than-staunch loyalist to the Crown, and might possibly be open to leading a crew of privateers or pirates to plunder this secret location. But up to this date, no decent crew had managed to convince him, and no indecent crew had managed to find him.

“The Ranger,” Fellows says over the rim of his fourth ale, “is that a gunship?”

Hope tries not to smile too wide. Captain Vane nods.

“Forgive me, but I don’t recognize the name.”

Vane’s eyes flash, like he’s only barely forgiving that slight. “We’re not Navy. Not privateers, either.”

Hope leans closer to the fisherman, blocking her captain just a little bit from view. “We used to sail out of Nassau.” This is it, time to lay all the cards on the table, and she can’t trust Vane not to botch it.

“Used to?”

She leans her elbow on the table, settling her cheek into her hand. “For a ‘free city,’ that place was accumulating quite a bit of overhead. Quite stifling, really, in the hands of the Guthries. We prefer to live truly free; to be accountable to no one but ourselves.” She leaves just enough pause between her words to imply there might be all kinds of ways she likes to be free. “It leaves us open to all sorts of amenable relationships. Partnerships, even.”

What man could resist twin appeals to both his greed and lust? And yet she had said nothing that would bind her to fulfilment of the latter, and Vane’s presence precluded any chance for Fellows to press her into a more concrete promise. He would be enticed by hope alone, that she might be planning to meet him for a more secret dalliance, and it would be too late by the time he realized that his dream was never going to come to pass.

Fellows grins back at her. “It almost sounds too good to be true.” Then his gaze floats over her shoulder. To Captain Vane.

Of course he’d need the man to confirm.

“Seems to me,” Vane says, leaning forward, putting more of his weight on Hope’s thigh, “that you’ve been sitting on this information for quite some time. Any of the pirate crews in the Caribbean would love to know the location of this cache. There must be a reason you haven’t already sold it.”

Fellows’ eyes shine with guile. “Just waiting for the right offer.” He nods his head, indicating a table under the window on the other side of the room. “Captain Black over there’s interested too.” He leans in conspiratorially. “But I think I deserve more than just a finder’s fee.”

Hope assesses the competition swiftly: two men in threadbare coats, with shifty eyes that betray a certain lack of confidence in their demeanor. One of their mugs lies on its side on the table, unrefilled; their coin might already be running out.

Vane spares only a glance in the direction of his rivals. They’re not even in his class. He summons an agreeable smile to his face for Fellows. “Seems only fair that the man whose careful eye caught the lead should get a larger share of the take.”

Hope smiles at him. He’s picked up on the need for flattery with this one, good.

“But have you ever gone a-pirating, Fellows?” He’s leaning in, looking at him from under heavy brows. “Faced down armed men, trained ones, try to take from them what they’re willing to give their lives to defend?” His face is only a hand’s breadth away from Hope’s, leaning over her the way he is, and she finds herself fascinated by a little muscle flexing in his jaw as he growls out his challenge. “Do you know that you have the stones not to run, not to sink to your knees when your back’s against the wall?”

Fellows licks his lips, but keeps his eyes on Vane’s hard stare. “I won’t run.”

Vane inclines his head, just a fraction. “On my ship, a man earns his share. If you fight alongside us, no matter how hairy it gets when we go in there, I can convince my crew you deserve a lion’s share.” He sits back, his hand traveling just an inch higher on Hope’s thigh. “Or you can stay on board and get your finder’s fee, let us be the ones that get our hands dirty. Your choice.”

Masterful, really. Now they aren’t talking about if Fellows will hire them, but what the terms of his own participation will be. Hope’s first impression of Captain Vane was not one of any formidable wit, but she can see in moments like this how he came to be a leader of men.

Fellows seems to have taken the bait. “Is your crew ready now?”

A long rumble of thunder, too loud to be very distant, interrupts everyone’s thoughts. A glance at the wide double doorway of the tavern shows nothing but roiling clouds, and Hope wonders how she could have missed the sudden darkening of the evening sky. She and Vane step to the door; a massive sheet of rain is sweeping across the bay, the wall of clouds stretching too far for this storm to be brief.

“Don’t think you’ll make it back to your ship before this hits,” Fellows remarks, coming up behind them. “Better to pass the night comfortably here. There’s rooms to let upstairs; I’m in one of ‘em. You two might as well see if there’s another still available. I can show you the island in the morning.”

 Hours later, they thump through the narrow upstairs hallway, arm-in-arm and singing one last sea shanty as they see Fellows off to bed. Negotiations complete, there had been nothing else to do but keep drinking, and entertain their cash cow well enough to ensure he didn’t develop second thoughts. They couldn’t have him wandering over to that other table and seeking a counteroffer.

As Fellows pulls the door closed to his room he catches Hope’s eye, head cocked and an inviting smile on his face. Does he think she might sneak out after her “husband” has fallen asleep? Hope barely suppresses a shudder. Good thing they had bought the man so many rounds that he was certain to pass out as soon as his cheek hit the pillow in there. She waves him a bland, friendly goodnight as Vane’s arm about her shoulders drags her on down the hall.

Last door on the right. Hope and Vane had indeed acquired the only room that the inn had left to let for this night. And with the rain continuing unabated, they’re lucky to have it. “Here we are,” Vane announces as he fumbles with the key given to them by the innkeeper while still trying to keep a hold on both her and the lantern, “time for our honeymoon, my sweet.”

Hope grins and slaps him on the chest. She takes the lantern from his hand so he can properly work the door. “I hope the bed is big, Charles, darling, because…” she trails off as her cheeks flush hot, simply unable to finish that line even in jest.

“Would it be too much if I carried you inside?”

Hope laughs and steps over the threshold before he can try it. She doesn’t want to have to face the way all his little physical affections have been making her feel. And yet, she can’t seem to make herself ask him to stop, either.

The door closes behind them and his arm is still around her. They’re leaning against each other more heavily than they would if they were sober, Hope is at least aware of that. And Vane most definitely outweighs her. “Get your legs under you before you topple us over,” she chides.

Instead of leaning away from her, Vane wraps his other arm around her body. “I’ll keep us steady, love.”

Hope tries to ignore the escalation of pet names, holding up the lantern to get a look at their abode for the night. It’s terribly small; there’s barely space for a chair beyond the foot of the modest-sized bed underneath a single window. It seems to be no more than a glorified closet, an alcove where they probably stick stumbling patrons to sleep off their overindulgences. If they’d taken one more step into the room they would have barked their shins on the edge of the furniture.

“Mmmm,” Vane murmurs into her neck, “What is this smell?” He inhales right against her skin, and Hope wonders how much the drink has actually gone to his head. Or hers, for that matter, as she finds herself melting just a little into his arms.

“Rosewater,” she answers, her voice coming out a bit thin, “from that cargo a few weeks ago.”

She can feel the rumbling sound of recognition he makes. A sudden throb between her legs makes Hope certain she’s had too much to drink herself. Her hands want to grasp the lapels of his jacket and pull him closer, but she pushes him away instead.

“What’s the matter?” His eyes look almost sleepy; more relaxed and cheerful than she’s ever seen from the man. A genuine smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he gazes down at her across the small distance her half-hearted shove had put between their bodies. “We are husband and wife, after all.”

She wants to meet his gaze levelly, to give him the sort of plain, no-nonsense stare that usually keeps the men in line around her. As soon as she looks into his eyes, though, something catches at her, and she cannot summon her frown. How had she never noticed the sweet, boyish softness of Captain Vane’s eyes before? She swallows, and awkwardly realizes she should have said something by now, as his face looms almost imperceptibly closer. She side-steps him, spying a nail beside the door to hang the lantern on. “Oh yes. You’ve yet to apologize to me for that.”

He pulls back. She wanted him to, didn’t she? And yet her heart dips a little as she watches him readjust his expectations. “For saving you?”

Hope just raises her brow and glares.

“He had a look about him,” Vane says defensively. “You wouldn’t like where that look was leading.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the door, which gives Hope just barely enough room to step between the bedframe and him to inspect the state of the linens the bed had been made up with.

“I had him handled.” The blanket is old, but appears unstained, and when Hope turns down the sheets they smell clean. At least there’s that.

“That you did. I was impressed, really, at the way you were able to work the man. It was a real pleasure to watch.”

She risks another glance at his face, checking for sarcasm, but his admiration seems sincere.

“I had no idea you could flirt like that.” He takes a step toward her, but it’s only so he can sit down at the foot of the bed and start working his boots off. “As good as any whore I’ve ever seen.”

Her breath sucks into her chest sharply. She doesn’t have anything against the women who make their living that way, really she doesn’t, but there’s a certain involuntary reaction that comes when that comparison is made.

Vane realizes his mistake almost immediately. “I didn’t mean—” he starts, penitent face turning up to her.

“Of course you didn’t,” Hope cuts him off matter-of-factly.

“I only meant to—”

“I know what you meant.”

Vane drops his head with a pained look and focuses intently on the laces of his boots.

And that’s about the moment when she realizes that not only is there only one bed in this room, there’s barely enough space between it and the walls for someone to sleep comfortably on the floor. A claim over the best sleeping spot would have to be made quickly, and right now it’s Vane’s butt that’s planted firmly on the mattress.

In a moment of almost childish intensity, Hope rushes to sit down next to him. Can’t have his claim appear uncontested.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him turn toward her in silent question, but she focuses firmly on unlacing her own boots. Vane finishes with his and places them carefully underneath the rickety wooden chair past the foot of the bed. His jacket goes next, shrugged off and laid over the chair’s seat.

When she gets her first boot off, he places it next to his own.

“I don’t normally prefer to act like that,” she admits, now feeling a bit embarrassed about her performance with Fellows.

“I know. It’s why I was so surprised.”

“To play that card…” she sucks in a deep breath. “It’s simultaneously the most easy and the most difficult option for a lady. I generally prefer to keep a hand full of better plays. Fellows, unfortunately… I must be his type. He set the terms of the game rather early, and would not be distracted.”

“Is this going to be a problem going forward? The poor chap seems intent on coming along tomorrow, playing pirate with us.” It was in fact all he had wanted to talk about, through five more rounds before they called it a night.

Hope shakes her head. “I don’t expect it to be. So long as he doesn’t find out we lied to him for hours about our marriage.”

Vane leans back, grinning. “It would break his little heart to know that we didn’t force a voyaging missionary to marry us at gunpoint, while the men plundered his ship?”

Hope can’t help but smile at that particular yarn they’d spun. “Honestly, I don’t think he even wants to sleep with me anymore. I think he just wants to be you.”

His eyes flash with glee. “Don’t sell yourself short now, love. If he does, it’s only because being me is the only way to get into your bed.”

She can barely handle hearing him say such things, in the dim light of a single lantern, and close enough that she could reach out and stroke her finger against the stubble along his jaw. She smooths her palm across the sheets between them and changes the subject to a much more important one. “Yes, it is my bed, isn’t it.”

Vane frowns down at her hand, then the floor. He lifts his face with a cool look. “That’s a bit presumptuous.”

Hope cocks an eyebrow.

“I do outrank you. Unless you want to play one of those ‘lady’ cards you’re not very fond of, the bed by rights goes to me.”

“Any gentleman would—”

“I don't believe I have ever been accused of being a gentleman.”

Hope can barely stand to keep meeting his eyes, not with the fire brewing behind those particular words, the way they’re kindling an answering flame in her own core. But she also can’t show him even the least sign of submission on this matter.

Vane interrupts their staring match by shrugging his shirt up over his head.

Hope responds by turning down the sheet and blanket, swiveling on her hip, and shoving both her legs underneath as fast as she can. She fixes her gaze on his climbing eyebrows, not his bared chest, and tucks herself into bed, burrowing her feet behind him and pulling the blanket firmly up to her chin. “You might want to put that shirt back on; the floor’s likely to be cold and none too clean.”

For a moment, he looks like a great beast about to tear out her throat. Then his snarl cracks open into a peal of laughter. Hope giggles a bit too as Vane leans forward and inspects the floor a second time. “You really think my shoulders will even fit into that space down there?”

Hope tries not to blush as she appraises the breadth of her captain’s impressive back. “It will be cozy.”

Vane huffs, tosses his hair—and throws his body down onto the bed beside her. “Cozier here,” he intones, settling his cheek on the pillow right beside hers.

She makes her face show as much affront as she can muster.

“Would you look at that,” he continues, “there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

Vane settles in on his back and closes his eyes. “Suit yourself. I’ll be asleep in about two minutes.”

Playfulness aside, Hope knows that if she kept up her insistence Vane would respect her limits. She also knows that the heaviness in her limbs means she’ll fall asleep soon too, and what does it matter if he’s right beside her or down on the floor as she sleeps off all this ale, anyway. She can even admit that the heat of his body, the grounding presence of his weight in the bed, are somewhat comforting. Distracting, vexing even if she were to think too hard about things like that, but she’s too drunk to think that hard, isn’t she. “Put out the lantern before you pass out.”

She holds up the covers for him when he climbs back into the bed. Their shoulders come to rest softly against each other’s, and Hope falls asleep pondering what might be making Vane’s hair smell vaguely of lemon and cedar.

Sorry, ending on a cliffhanger is not usual for this story, but I already have half of the next chapter written and it picks up directly from here! In fact, yesterday’s teaser technically comes from Part 6.

Taglist is open:  @ladyhubris @summertimesadness101 @acebreathesfire​@kind-wolf  @pleasemelafook-outta-ere​

[honeyjxsung]

It’s You

Member: Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k oof this was longer than expected

Genre: Fluff

Request:  I was wondering if you could do one where felix's crush needs a fake date for a family event and she ask him plz😊

A/N: Here it is love! I’m sorry this took a while, so please forgive me, but 

Enjoy! <33

******

You were freaking out. 

Not because you were going to a family reunion, no. You were pretty excited to go, it’s been so long since you’ve seen your relatives. You haven’t kept in touch with the cousins you used to be so close with, so meeting them would bring back some nostalgia. You were freaking out because you said you were bringing your boyfriend with you. And the problem is, you don’t have a boyfriend in the first place. 

It only started because you were fed up with your second cousin bragging about her fiancé coming to visit. She rubbed the fact that she got a man before everyone else in your face, and you got quite annoyed, causing you to blurt out stuff you didn’t think through, like how you would bring your lover to the gathering. 

Oh, how you fucked up.

Now you had to find a boyfriend in less than 24 hours.

You grew extremely anxious at first. You didn’t know where or how to find a guy who was willing to be your pretend boyfriend. You didn’t even know how to properly talk to guys! Groaning, you rolled around on your bed as you scrolled through your contacts list, finding someone, anyone, who could be up for the job. 

Then you came across the name that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

-

Felix was freaking out.

He didn’t expect his crush to show up at his doorstep so early in the morning. He didn’t have time to prepare what to say or what he looked like, so he was a stuttering mess. 

“O-oh! Hey, Y/n...uh what are you doing here?” He rubbed the nape of his neck nervously. You shifted the weight on your right leg to your left,

biting your lip. 

“Hey, Felix! Sorry for disturbing, are you busy?” 

God, you hoped you put enough foundation to cover your crimson red cheeks. 

You didn’t even know why you chose your crush to be the one. It was a terrible mistake and you were certainly going to make a fool out of yourself if you act all intimate with him. You mentally cursed at yourself, thinking that you could’ve chosen your best friend’s brother. Or maybe one of Felix’s members. Anyone but the boy who had such an effect on you.

Ugh so stupid.

The boy in front of you shook his head, “No it’s totally fine, and I’m not busy. Come in.” He stepped aside and motioned for you to enter his dormitory. Luckily his members were either gone for work or completely out cold. 

You entered timidly and kicked off your shoes, lining them to the wall and made your way to the couch where he was sitting. 

“So what’s up?” 

“Ok um..” You began. You didn’t know how to bring up the whole boyfriend scheme without seeming weird. Felix cocked his head to the side, and if you weren’t panicking you would’ve found it cute. 

You couldn’t take it back anymore, you were already in his place, probably wasting his precious time that he could’ve spent on something more productive. 

“I need you to be my fake boyfriend for a family reunion!” You blurted out. You were scared of how he would react so you expected the worst, but he only seemed confused, hinting at how his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

He blinked, trying to process what you said. Was he hearing things? 

“Wh-what?” 

“Just for today, my cousins think I have a boyfriend when I actually don’t. It’s fine if you don’t want to.” 

Felix was quite taken aback, and he was beginning to blush. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he often fantasized about you being his girlfriend. And although it was going to last one day and it was completely fake, he was willing to do it. Mostly for your sake, but partially for his too. 

“No-no It’s alright, I was just a bit shocked...when do we start?” 

“Well it starts at 5 so we have plenty of time to get ready and such. By the way, you can wear something nice, it doesn’t have to be so formal though.”

Felix nodded and gave you a soft smile. He could tell how tense you were, you must be really anxious. “Would you like anything to drink?” He offered, standing up from his spot. 

“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water please.” 

He nodded and escorted himself to the kitchen. He still had a good view of you from the kitchen since it was out in the open, and he could see how you were sitting up straight and fiddled with your fingers. You were wondering why Felix seemed so fine about it. Asking to be your fake boyfriend was so out of the blue, and it calmed you that he wasn't judging you. You looked at his direction and he gave you a playful grin to calm your nerves

“Make yourself comfortable, Y/n. I don’t want my girlfriend to feel so tense.” 

He froze, Felix didn’t know where that burst of confidence came from. Gosh, that was so embarrassing. He attempted to hide behind the counter, scared to see your face, but he heard your adorable giggle and his smile resurfaced. “Alright, whatever you say, babe.” You retorted, and you instantly regretted it. Was that too much? Your heart was pounding and you were afraid that he would be able to hear it from across the room. 

He came back with two glasses of water, passing one to you, and you thanked him. That was when you realized how quiet the place was. Felix was in Stray Kids, and the members were known to be very loud. It was odd that you never heard a single scream yet. 

“Where are the rest of the boys?” You asked, looking around. Felix followed your actions, taking a sip. “Well, Chan, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jisung are at the Jyp Building. The rest are asleep. They stayed up pretty late last night.” He chuckled, remembering how rowdy they were the other day. Felix loved his 8 members dearly as if they were his brothers. They were all pretty close, so knowing personal things about each other wasn't new. That means they know all about Felix’s huge crush on you, and he quietly praised the fact that none of them were present to expose him. 

“That’s typical of you guys. Partying like there’s no tomorrow.”

There was that laugh again. The one that set sparks flying inside of his chest. Felix tried to ignore it because he didn’t want to ruin a simple conversation, but you were just too damn cute to ignore. 

“Well, that is their motto. But I’m not saying that it’s a good saying to follow.” He sighed. 

“But they’re really fun to be around, not gonna lie.” 

“What, are you saying that they are more fun than me?” Felix put a hand to his chest, mocking a hurt expression.

“I never said that!” 

“That’s what you implied!” 

“There was no implication in that statement!” 

“That hurts Y/n. You wound me.” He faked a cry and you scoffed while shoving his shoulder lightly. The two of you continued to talk to each other, and your original plans of leaving the dorm to ready your stuff were out the window. Somehow, the gap between the both of you on the couch was nonexistent anymore, as you were shoulder to shoulder. Time flew by before you even knew it, and the only thing that snapped you out of it was Minho sleepily walking to the kitchen without noticing the two people on the couch. You and Felix sat in silence, watching the boy shuffle to the fridge, and tried not to burst out laughing. 

“Good Morning Minho.” You said as calmly as you could. It was normal for the members to wake up extremely late, and both of you found it amusing seeing how confused they end up once they found out that others just finished lunch.

Minho, not sparing a glance responded, “Hey Y/n-“ and continued to down his food. 

It was only when Felix burst into a fit of laughter when Lee know realized you were in their dorm. He nearly choked on his brunch. “Y/n-when did you get here?” 

After you calmed yourself and Felix down, you proceeded to answer the boy’s question by checking the time. “I got here at like 11-holy shit, Lix it’s Three!” 

It took an hour and a half to get to the family reunion, and you weren’t even changed yet. You swiftly got up and Felix followed with a nod. He let you in his room and began to look through his closet with you sitting on his bed. 

-

Several minutes passed, and Felix looked incredible. He wore a loose button-down that outlined his muscles and blue jeans. He swept his hair to the side which revealed his forehead. It was so simple, yet it was able to blow you away. You gave a look of approval and went to your car to your place. Felix came with you while Minho was left without an explanation.

You rushed to your wardrobe while Felix patiently waited in the living room. You cleaned yourself up and rushed outside. Felix couldn't move, you were breathtaking. In a cute off-the-shoulder blouse with black jeans, you looked stunning. 

“Ready?” You asked. 

He gulped.

“As I’ll ever be.”

-

“Y/n! Hey!” A high pitched voice rang through your ears once you entered the doors. It was your cousin, with a smirk on her face. She extended her arms out to your and her hot pink claw nails grazed your skin as she patted your back. There was a tall man by her side, which you assumed was her fiancé she bragged about so much. “This is Rowoon, my fiancé. He’s a doctor.” Your assumptions were proven when she said the last part with a proud grin. You tried not to scoff at her obvious intentions and put on a smile as you greeted her soon to be husband. He seemed very gentlemanly, with soft eyes and a fit body. He had a good fashion sense and his kind personality was what reeled you in. You couldn’t believe he was to marry your bratty cousin. Poor guy.

“So, where's the boyfriend? Is he not coming? Or is he just not existent?” 

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret later and half-heartedly laughed. Felix told you to go ahead because the parking was hard to find. “No no, he’s here, he’s just parking the car.” 

And as if it was on cue, you heard his familiar voice behind you. “Babe!” 

The act had begun.

The smile on your face turned genuine once he met eyes with you. Your cousin’s attention wasn’t on you anymore, but on the handsome boy who claimed to be your boyfriend. She batted her eyelashes towards him and giggled. 

“Yuna, this is Felix, my boyfriend.” Instinctively, Felix interlaced his fingers with yours, and you were taken by surprise. His hands were soft and fit with yours as if they were meant to be held together. It was an unfamiliar feeling that you felt, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Though you were sure about one thing.

It felt so right.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Felix reached his hand out to the couple while his left hand remained wrapped around yours. He gave Rowoon a firm handshake and Yuna hugged him. 

You wanted to get out of Yuna’s sight, so you squeezed Felix’s hand and he immediately responded. 

“It was nice meeting you, but we’ll go ahead and get some food.” Felix bowed dismissively and you mustered up a wave before heading to the tables. Felix led you to a chair and pulled it out for you to sit it. Then he left you and your thoughts alone to get food. You were grateful that Felix was willing to pose as someone he’s not and go through your hectic family just to spare your pride, you knew it’ll take a lot in order to pay him back, but he deserved it. 

You viewed him from the corner of your eye filling two cups with some punch, and along the way, he made small talk with your aunt and first cousin. Judging by them laughing, you could tell their conversation was going well. 

It was a nice sight to see, seeing your family members get along with someone very special to you. If only he could see it too; if only you were just as precious to him as he was to you. If only this could last for more than one day. 

If only it could be real. 

Little did you know he felt the same way too.

-

“Your family is so nice, they’re really easy to get along with.” Felix comments, resting a hand on top of yours. He could get used to the feeling of your hands on his. You produced a different type of warmth whenever he touched you. It was comforting and relaxing.

It felt like home.

“They can be rowdy at times, but they’re really loving.” You said, looking off to the side. You avoided his stare. 

“Thank you, Felix, for coming. It means a lot.” You said softly. “I know acting like my fake boyfriend is odd of me, I wouldn’t be surprised if after this you would think of me as a weirdo.”

Felix swirled his drink a lifted his lips upward. “It’s not a problem. And I don’t think you’re a weirdo Y/n, I told you, it’s ok.” 

He reassured you one last time before taking a sip of the drink. You shared a comfortable silence between the both of you, the only noise was the loud chatting of your family and the clinking of silverware as they ate. You decided to look at him and his brows were furrowed as if he was in deep thought. And indeed he was.

You were about to speak up until he cleared his throat and mumbled a “fuck it” under his breath.

“Although, Y/n.” He began again, which caught your attention. The tone of his voice shifted and you were beginning to get scared as you didn’t know where it was going. 

“I want to make this relationship a reality.” 

Pause.

The white noise suddenly canceled out, the only sound was the thumping of your heart getting faster and faster. You didn’t hear wrong right? 

“What..?” your lips parted as you stared at him in awe, waiting for him to clarify what exactly he said, and luckily he did.

“I like you, Y/n. Well, I have been for a while… I’m really glad that you chose me to be your date for today, even if this is fake. I get it if you don’t want to, but would you like to make us real?” 

He internally cringed at his speech, and he was sure you were going to reject him. But to his relief, you felt a bit bold and decided to move forward and place a kiss on his lips. 

You pulled away, a light shade of red tinted on your cheeks as you processed what you just did, and Felix couldn’t move as he was just as speechless. 

“I like you too, Lix. And I would love to be your girlfriend.” 

-

The night continued, and your energy began to drain. You had a lot of fun talking to your relatives and catching up, but it was beginning to get darker and your feet were in pain. Saying farewell, you laced your hands with the blonde’s and walked out with a bright smile on your face. 

Thinking back, it was kind of funny; Felix walked in the building as your fake boyfriend and walked out as your real one. You chuckled at the thought, but you snapped out of it when the one who was on your mind sat right next to you, giving you a peck on the cheek before resting his head on your lap. On instinct, your fingers played with his bleached locks as he lulled himself to sleep.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

[mind-writing0]

~Chapter 8~

Virgil Singer was overwhelmed.

When his eyes shot open, his throat nearly closed and he shoved the bed covers off of himself.

Virgil carefully checked under the door. The maid wasn’t there; maybe she was doing some other task. Virgil tried to breathe as he opened the door, but all this air felt like liquid plastic. He ran down the hall, feeling nauseous.

I have to get outside, he thought, I have to breathe. He stumbled down the stairs, to some extravagant-looking double doors. There stood two strong-looking guards. Virgil tried to get past and to the garden outside, but one of the guards stopped him.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you go, sir.” He said, his voice stern. “You need to go back to your room.”

“P-please…” Virgil choked out, pushing against the guard’s arm. “I…can’t breathe. Let me…outside, please.” He fell over in exhaustion, not even caring about impressions anymore.

“Let him go,” a new voice called out. Virgil’s head was held at the side, but he looked over and saw someone who looked like a prince, suit and all. “He needs to get out, and you will let him.” He paused, and when the guards didn’t relent, he became frustrated. “Now!”

The guard let go of Virgil, and with what sounded like a choked sob, he threw open the doors and ran out of the castle. He ran until the doors looked smaller, until he couldn’t bother with them. The black-haired teen found an odd type of bench-swing to sit on, and he rocked himself back and forth as his breathing evened out.

“Are you alright, my dear?” It was the same voice from earlier, with the same fancy outfit still looking blurry as Virgil’s eyes were filled with tears. Virgil wiped his eyes and looked in front of him. There, kneeling down and holding his hand in a gentlemanly gesture, was Prince Roman himself.

Virgil jerked his hand away, not thinking and overthinking all at once. “I am not your dear.”

Prince Roman looked taken aback. “What’s wrong? Did I not just give you the very thing you asked for?”

Virgil didn’t know what to say. He did do that, but even this seemed fake and staged. “Just go away and talk to another one of your dears.”

Roman smiled thinly and sat next to Virgil on the swing. “Technically, I’m not supposed to meet you all until tomorrow morning, so I’m afraid you are all I have for now.”

Virgil clenched his fists. “Don’t you realize how stupid this is?!” He burst out, his emotions getting the best of him. Virgil immediately felt regret seeping in, but he tried to ignore it. “I mean, you come out to the entire country, which is not personal at all by the way. Then you change the Selection to males, which is fine until you round us up like like cattle into your stupid little pick-fest, where you judge us on a lot more than princeliness, I’m sure. All while you keep us in this cage where we have to fight to go outside! Is this really how you want to choose a husband?”

Prince Roman was silent as angry tears continued to fall down Virgil’s cheeks. He twiddled his thumbs and pushed his short bangs to the side. “It’s a tradition in my family, the Selection. I have no choice. I see it completely differently than you, and I am sorry that you see it in such a negative light, my dear. I used to see this place as a cage myself, but it really is a beautiful cage, do you not agree?”

“I’m not your dear.” Virgil replied, but he softened a little. Even if he had chosen not to go through the Selection, Prince Roman had no choice. He did get to pick, but only within the twenty five of what could be considered arranged marriages. “But yeah…I didn’t really know…”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to get used to that. I’m not entirely sure how to talk with the young men who are in this Section. It’s all quite new, but you’re all my dear. This is simply the matter of deciding who shall be the dearest.” Prince Roman replied, smiling a little at the flowers.

Virgil glanced at Roman incredulously, “Did you just say shall?”

Prince Roman chuckled, “Forgive me, it’s a product of my education.” He paused, then looked over at Virgil. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is your name? I can understand if you wouldn’t want me to know your identity, but if it helps, I do find you rather interesting.”

“Virgil,” the dark-haired teen replied quietly, “and I don’t mind, really. I’m not here to win your heart. No offense, Your Majesty, but I don’t consider this real love.”

“Well, of course it isn’t yet! I haven’t even met the Selected.” He paused, looking at Virgil as though he were fascinating. “I do wonder, have you ever been in love?”

“Yes,” Virgil said, and he could almost feel his heart sinking.

“Then you are very lucky. Would you like me to send you home to your love tomorrow?” Prince Roman asked, a hint of sadness in his voice, and yet he seemed compassionate.

“No. There are…certain people…I can’t stand to see at the moment.” Virgil’s eyes began to water, and before he knew it, he was quietly crying.

Prince Roman nodded in understanding, but he still looked lost. He looked over at Virgil, immediately startled at the sight. “Oh, no! Please don’t cry! It hurts to see someone so beautiful in pain.”

Virgil wiped his eyes on his silk, palace-provided pajamas. He laughed around a sob, “You really don’t know how to talk to people, do you?”

“I don’t, but I shouldn’t have to worry if you’re so uninterested in the competition. So, besides my charm and good looks,” —Roman paused as Virgil snorted at that, which made Roman playfully glare at him—"why else would you stay?“

"Hmm, you really want me to like you, don’t you? I can hear how much you want someone to compliment you. I mean, yes, you’re good-looking and charming and whatever, but…I’m only in it for the food.” Virgil whispered the last part, causing Prince Roman to lean in and cling to every word.

Prince Roman paused, grinning a little. Then he was laughing, full on hand-slapping-knee laughing. It was nothing like the stiff chuckles Virgil had heard on TV. He realized just then that this was real. He was talking to the prince, who could have him caned for talking the way he did. Maybe he just wanted a show first.

“What are you?” Roman asked, “A Three? Four?”

“Five,” Virgil responded. He felt an odd sense of giddiness in the whole situation. He just realized he was shaking.

“I see why food would be a motivator. Well, I really must be going. If you change your mind when it comes to me and the Selection, feel free to let me know. After seeing how passionate you are, I cannot deny how fascinating it would be to see you try.” Prince Roman stood from the bench, straightening out his suit. “There’s a guard out here to wait for you, if you don’t mind. I do hope you find something to fight for, Sir Virgil. There are some magical things in this cage.” He nodded, almost in a bow, but his eyes sparkled in a way that suggested they had an inside joke. He plucked a nearby rose and gave it to Virgil. The black haired boy looked down at it to see it was a swirl of purple and black, something seen in a fantasy. Then Roman walked off, leaving Virgil to immediately regret everything he said.

Next Masterlist Previous

[mysamcedesmadness]

So, We’re On a Date...

“So I Had a Dream” continued to show what I imagine a date might be like with these two awkward cuties.

Henry and Charlotte were still arm in arm whenever they approached the podium at the Picnic Cafe that Charlotte had suggested. Henry was glad that she hadn’t offered to hold hands, because he was actually pretty nervous, so his were sweatier than usual. The hostess asked them, “Would you like an inside or outside seat?” 

They looked at each other and Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, “I’m thinking outside. The weather’s nice and we’ve been walking around and stuff already. Might as well keep the mood outdoorsy.”

“Outside,” Henry answered.

“And do you want a patio table or booth, or would you like to take a blanket to the yard?”

Henry immediately said, “I say we go full corny on this thing and do one of those picnics on the grass!” 

Charlotte giggled a little, but abruptly stopped when she realized that she was doing so and Henry was giving her eyes. “Uh, yeah. Let’s be ridiculous like that. Sounds like stupid fun.”

“The full corny picnic on the grass experience, please,” Henry ordered. 

The hostess grabbed a blanket and a basket from a wall sized shelf to her right and said, “Feel free to take any place on the grass that isn’t occupied by other guests. There are menus and a number stand in the basket for when you’re ready to order.”

.

Charlotte was unsure of how she was supposed to sit in that short dress, but Henry offered her his shirt to cover herself, since he had on an undershirt. She felt a little bit better about her outfit now that he was in a smedium tee, studying the menu pretty seriously. “I don’t even know what a benedict is,” he said.

“Usually means poached eggs, an English muffin and probably hollandaise sauce. Which one are you looking at?”

“Turkey, bacon and avocado,” he told her, still looking at the menu, and now, she wondered if he was avoiding looking at her. This was go time. They were ON the date now. It wasn’t the time for him to become shy or elusive! Then again, he could just be really interested in making the right food choice. 

She shrugged her shoulders at herself and decided pretty quickly on chicken salad with avocado toast and vanilla chai. She glanced around the yard and saw many people sharing a milkshake, or cuddled up, and a few wrapped in the blanket. Someone had candles. Everyone here looked super lovey-dovey and instead of it being corny, like it usually was whenever she passed the place, she was a little bit jealous. She and Henry were on a date, but neither of them had actually talked about their feelings, or if there even WERE any. They’d had some stupid dreams and he asked her out, seemingly on a whim. She was really feeling like she probably actually liked him and this whole time, he’d still been on the mindset that this date was corny. It was, but she wanted a corny night with a cute guy like the chicks in the sitcoms. She wanted it to actually be a thing, not something to laugh about and if not, she was already over it and ready to go. “Are you almost ready to order?” She wondered.

He glanced at her and shook his head, “How are you already ready? This menu is huge! I just got out of the benedicts.”

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “I just picked the thing that was the cheapest that still looked good. Splurged a little on the drink, but the description sounded divine.”

“You don’t have to pick the cheapest thing. Get whatever you want, Char.”

“I know we just got paid, but I’m not made of money.”

Now, for the first time since they sat on the blanket, he actually looked at her, “Wait, are you... Trying to pay for your own meal... At a date?That’s not how this works. I asked you on a date, so I’m already prepared to pay for you... for it! For the date. Not pay for you, but for your food, at least. If we were just going somewhere and paying for our own food, that’d be what we do all of the time. This is supposed to be different. It’s special. So... Order whatever you want. I’m paying.” She nodded and reached for the menu again. This was too weird. Henry had treated her to things before, plenty of times, but for some reason this was different. He noticed her staring at him and wondered, with a smile, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just... I guess I’m seeing you in a different light today, and I didn’t expect that, not when I started having dreams, and not even when I said yes to this date.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and shut the menu, “Is it a problem?”

She shook her head, “Just new and kinda confusing. You and me, we like each other right? We're not like, you know, just going through the motions because we had some stupid dreams?”

He blushed a little, but admitted, “Yeah, I like you.”

“So now that we've got that out in the open we're going to probably have to discuss how things are going to go down.”

Now Henry snickered and repeated, “Go down?”

She pointed a finger at him, “Stop. I'm being serious. I personally know how your love life usually goes.”

“Right and you also know it's because of” (he leaned forward and whispered) “You know Junk N’ Stuff.”

She leaned forward and whispered too, “Yeah I know. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to let it just ruin the chances of what could be something pretty sweet. I didn't want things to change, but it's obvious that they have.So what we do now with this change is up to the two of us. Are we just having fun testing something out? Or are we trying to make something real happen?”

“Personally I'd like to have fun trying to make something real happen.” he suggested. She smiled at that thought and he reached for the number and the stand, “So, are you ready to order, now?” She was.

.

The walk home was nice. They didn’t do the arm in arm thing nor hold hands, but Charlotte had taken pretty much the entire container of heart shaped mints, so they were eating them on their way to her house while they talked about whether they were going to act normal when they got to work to just make everyone have to stew in the mystery or if they’d be one of those lovey doveys that they were surrounded by on their picnic. Charlotte definitely was not about bringing their romance into the work space, but agreed to let Henry show affection, if that was what felt natural for him at the moment. 

Let’s face it, he’s the more affectionate one. He usually initiated hugs and kisses. He was the one who might want to cuddle for a moment while she was at the control panel. And, she wasn’t going to tear him down for it, but wanted to make it clear that she would not be regularly hugging or anything else. Certainly not straddling him anywhere in the Man Cave. 

As her home came into view, the end of the date did as well. Now, they had discussed everything from whether or not they’d change their socmed statuses or share lockers - no to both, at the moment, whether or not they were about PDA - him yes, her no, a compromise on minimal affection when nobody was around and only hands or arms contact in crowded areas, and if they were going to talk to anybody about their personal business - each other before anybody else and others limited to Jasper, Piper, Ray and Schwoz, and with both of their approval to share info... But, now it was time to consider if they were going to do the thing that even got these wheels set in motion from their dreams...

“It's a first date but it's not like it's our first meeting. So, really if we're going to do a kiss thing we should go for it, and not really make a big deal out of it. On the other hand, we've both had dreams so now we both have expectations. and it your dreams apparently I'm some kind of vixen. And in my dreams apparently you're some kind of gentlemanly knight or something. So, we've kind of thought about the kiss part but not really in a realistic way, and yet we both have ideas in her head that may not necessarily meet our expectations. It could possibly be an “Expectations VS Reality” of meme-like proportions…” 

Henry silenced her anxious babbling with a kiss. Then, he pulled her closer and kissed her deeper and a little harder. His hands traced her body, collected her is close to himself as he could, and his kiss lingered as he savored the reality. Charlotte was stunned, at first. She stood there with widened eyes wondering if this was really happening and when Henry got more involved in the kiss realized, Oh, Chiz! It actually is! And that she probably had to counter-kiss him or something. He’d done this a few times. More than a few, probably. She honestly hadn’t. But, she had seen it happen enough on TV when ships were forced down her throat, whether or not they made sense or added to the story! She had watched enough things that she could sort of fake it until she figured it out for real. But, by the time she decided how she might respond, Henry pulled back. “You okay?” He asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You were kinda non-responsive. I didn’t know if maybe I had totally crossed a boundary or something.”

“I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. You seemed like you had it all under control, so I didn’t do the whole you know, Y.A. fanfiction trope of battling your tongue for dominance,” she giggled and looked at her hands, wringing her fingers together.

“Well... Did you like it?” He asked, nervously considering that she very well may not have. She furrowed her eyebrows for a brief second and that was enough to unsettle him. “Oh, God. You didn’t. There I was, thinking that this surpassed even my wildest dreams and you were probably just I don’t know wondering how long before I stopped sucking on your lip!”

“Wait wait wait, you’re getting a little in over your head. I never suggested any of that. I was just wondering what your question meant. Because, I didn’t really get a chance between the shock of the kiss starting and me realizing that I was in the middle of it to really register the feeling, and I  have never kissed anybody, so I was already nervous and the fact that it’s my best friend made it even more tense. Then, I didn’t know what to do, so I was stressed about that to, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t know if I liked the kiss because I was so focused on the outer details that I didn’t really get into the moment of it.” Henry laughed. “It’s not funny, that was a very apprehensive minute and a half!”

He smiled and collected her to him again, gently and rested his body onto hers. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be stressful. It’s supposed to be a release. I’ve had this tension built up in me and for me, I just had to get that out. I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you. Can I try again, and you promise to try not to overthink it this time?”

“I guess...” She was frozen in place as he leaned towards her.

He noticed, and stopped short of her lips to take his hands and wiggle her a little bit. “Try to relax. It’s nothing painful or even really uncomfortable.” She took a deep breath and nodded, trying to relax. Her hands were stiff on his arm and chest, so he took them and wrapped her arms around his neck, with his face still lined up with hers for the kiss, but taking his time to get there, until she seemed more at ease. “Let your hands rest,” he told her. She rested them and did feel better, with her arms around his neck, her body pressed comfortably against him, his hands on her waist, his eyes looking into hers...”Are you ready?” He asked softly. She nodded and Henry leaned down again to kiss her.

YEAHHHHHHHHHHP! Charlotte definitely enjoyed it this time around. She wasn’t thinking about if her body was doing the right thing, if she should be “kissing him back” or holding onto his shoulders or whatever else. She was just in his arms, being kissed, with their arms around each other and feeling safe, because Henry made sure that she was ready for it this time. (She wasn’t a huge fan of surprises.) But this kissing thing... Yeahp. She was a new fan of this. Henry almost didn’t want to let her go, but he knew that they were nearing her curfew and if one of her parents looked outside and saw them, he didn’t think he knew how to be smooth enough to handle that. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Better?” He asked.

“That was,” she just smiled and nodded her head. “You know, I’ve judged you for kissing strangers, but it seems like that paid off.”

“I haven’t kissed a stranger in a while, and the doctor says I’m totally clean!” He defended. She hugged him tightly and laid her head on his chest. “Between you and me, the reality was WAY better than the expectation. Like, even though my dreams were more exciting, the kiss definitely felt better against my lips,” he confessed.

“Well, that’s probably because whenever you’re dreaming about a kiss, your mind is trying to reconcile physical feelings with the mental image in your head. So, whatever kiss you dream about is either an imagined feeling, a mixture of feeling composed from all of the different kisses that you’ve had trying to fill in the blanks, or the memory of a certain kiss that you’re applying to the mental picture. So, maybe your vision showed you kissing me, but your mind filled in that feeling with other kisses, since you didn’t have mine to catalog...”

He kissed her again and she melted against him, falling into it more naturally this time around, and honestly, probably from now on.. for however long this was gonna go on, at least. She wasn’t unsettled about it, anymore. That much was sure. He smiled against her lips and said, “Sorry. Just trying to catalog the right feeling for my dreams tonight.” She nodded her head, grabbed him and gently pushed him into her front door, how he’d described her dream version to be take charge and sultry. His eyes widened in excitement and she laughed at herself. This wasn’t her, but he appreciated that she was willing to give it a shot. She had to tiptoe to kiss him this time, because she wanted to initiate one, herself. Henry gladly accepted, then hesitantly let go of her. 

They had reached her curfew. She chewed the gum he’d given her earlier to change back into her clothes, so that she didn’t have to explain a dress that they knew that they hadn’t bought and had never seen to her folks. She gave Henry’s hand one last squeeze and they simultaneously said, “Sweet dreams,” then both laughed as she went inside and he leaned against the door, smiling. That went well.

[war-of-the-words]

The Missing Thread

Here is my @dcmkkaishinexchange fic, just so happens, for my partner in crime @hiddentruths50136820! A soulmate/ fake dating thing just for you <3 Two

           Kudou Shinichi has a dumb crush. It is completely illogical, that was the only way to describe love at first sight, but it is impossible to ignore. Ran had somehow become friends with one Nakamori Aoko, and when Ran had forced Shinichi to go with her to meet Aoko and her friend, Shinichi had become a stuttering mess at the sight of Kuroba Kaito. Ran hadn't helped, she didn't point it out, but she had made fun of him for months afterword. Despite what must have been a terrible first impression, Shinichi really couldn't remember-he had blocked it from his memory- Kaito had decided to be his friend. It was amazing how well they managed to get along, which didn't help Shinichi's crush, so it wasn't a huge shock when Kaito asked him for a favor.

           "I need you to be my date to a thing." Shinichi nearly choked on his coffee, and several of the cafe patrons around him gave him concerned looks. "Shinichi?" Kaito looked concerned as well, he looked pretty when he was concerned, "Are you okay?"

           "Yeah, I'm fine," Shinichi waved off his friend's worry, avoiding eye contact, "You just surprised me was all. You should really be more careful about what you say when someone is drinking."

           "I'll keep that in mind," Kaito replied and dammit Shinichi do NOT think about how absolutely stunning he is when he smiles like that. Shinichi cleared his throat, begging himself to keep it together.

           "So, why do you need a date?"

           "I practically have to attend this classy event thing a friend of my mom's is hosting, but it is an event for Pairs only, hence, a date is needed."

           "And why couldn't you bring Aoko?" Shinichi asked, feeling himself becoming flustered at the mention of Pairs. Kaito let at a sigh, an annoyed look crossing his face.

           "Aoko already found her Pair, and she isn't exactly fond of the idea of pretending she's mine." He looked at Shinichi like Can you believe it? "Any way, I couldn't think of anyone else I would want to be my fake soulmate, so I'm asking you. If you're uncomfortable with it, I completely understand, I know it's weird."

           "No!" Shinichi said, "No," he said again, feeling like his first response was a bit too enthusiastic, "I don't mind, but why are you even invited to a Pair only event? I mean, I get that your mom is making you, but why were you even sent an invitation in the first place?"

           "Because I've already been paired." Kaito held up his left hand, a thin red band visible around his little finger, and, despite the gravity of what it meant, Kaito seemed completely disinterested. Shinichi was completely taken aback; here he was, pining over a guy that already had a soulmate.

           "Congrats, wait, no, Kaito, if you're already paired, why not go to the Pair event with them?" Kaito groaned, as if he had already been asked this question many times before.

           "Because I don't know who they are." For a moment, Kaito's face was crestfallen, and Shinichi regretted asking, but the magician quickly replaced the emotion with one of his signature mischievous smiles. "So there is absolutely no need to be jealous Shi~ni~chi~." Shinichi would usually allow himself to be flustered after Kaito's teasing, but the expression on the magician's face was etched into his mind.

           "I'll go," Shinichi said, taking a sip of his quickly cooling coffee, "but don't expect me to be a fantastic actor." Kaito's face lit up in genuine joy, and that was enough for Shinichi, despite the burning questions that were begging to be asked.

           It's not unusual for people to lose the chance to meet their soulmate if they only quickly make eye-contact in a crowd, which wouldn't be that unusual for Kaito, considering all of the time he spent in and around them. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to indulge in those thoughts, but Shinichi couldn't help himself, he was a romantic at heart. He was still thinking about it as he was walking home, butterflies filling his stomach as he kept remembering the warm smile the magician had given him.

           He spent the entire day of the event getting ready. He was used to dress parties, his mother would drag him to one at least once a month when he was younger, but he was pretending to be Kaito's soulmate. He had to make sure he didn't tarnish the magician's reputation. Shinichi was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, desperately trying to get his hair look less like a dead animal than usual.

           Shinichi was still uncertain as to why Kaito was invitied to this party. He was Paired, sure, but it seemed unlikely that Kaito would hide the fact that he hadn't actually met his soulmate, it was nothing to be ashamed of. Shinichi breathed out a sigh and rubbed the small ring of red around his pinkie finger.

           He had met several Paired-but-not people in his time, and everytime he fantacized about how fantastic it would be if one of them had actually been his soulmate, he had received the ring when he was too young to remember and his parents said they didn't notice when it happened. Now he finds out that Kaito was in the same boat, but he couldn't allow himself to get his hopes up, Kaito had plenty of opportunities to make eye contact with people, it would be irrational to assume that Shinichi had somehow met Kaito when he was younger and neither of their parents realized.

           Shinichi was pulled from his thoughts when the doorbell rang. Checking the time, Shinichi swore quietly and quickly made another feudal attempt at taming his hair before rushing downstairs to open the door. Kaito was on the other side, smiling in a way that made Shinichi's heart skip a beat. He was dressed in a charcoal-gray suit and a deep scarlet shirt to add a pop of color. Shinichi was fairly certain his face matched the color.

           "You look great!" Kaito said, which did not help Shinichi's situation, "Are you ready?" Shinichi searched his pocket for his wallet and keys and nodded. Kaito offered Shinichi his arm in a classical gentlemanly fashion causing Shinichi to let out a small laugh, but took the others arm anyway.

             The party was being held in the ballroom of one of the fanciest hotels in Beika, the hosts had rented out the largest ballroom and had decorated it in a strange fashion. All of the windows in the room had large black drapes completely cutting out any light from the outside. Instead, the light was provided by small lanterns and fairy lights covering the walls of the room. The soft glow made it a little difficult to see, but Shinichi could understand the appeal of the ambiance. Another source of light was a large skylight. The large domed ceiling of the ballroom was capped off with a circle of glass, allowing the patrons to see the few stars overhead.

           When they arrived, Kaito quickly excused himself in order to greet the host, promising Shinichi that he would only take a couple minutes. Feeling a little dejected, Shinichi wandering over to the snack table, grazing on tiny appetizers and mini-cakes, watching the crowd. The people who passed them were all smiling, holding hands, Shinichi couldn't see, but he knew that thin red bands wrapped around their little fingers. Shinichi gave a sigh and worried the finger in question; it had become a terrible habit.

           "Shinichi!" Kaito called, rushing over to the snack table, "I'm so sorry, they talked longer than I expected, I really didn't want to leave you by yourself."

           "It's fine," Shinichi replied, Kaito's regretful expression twisting his stomach into knots. "It wasn't all that long, besides, I had food to keep me company." Kaito laughed, pulling even harder on Shinichi's heartstrings. "So," Shinichi offered, "what's the plan for tonight? I wouldn't mind spending the whole evening by the snacks, but I'm up for some options."

           "Well," Kaito began, "The hostess was very enthusiastic about tonight's 'main event', but she wouldn't tell me anything about it. All she said was that it would begin 'soon'."

           "Cryptic."

           "Very," Kaito laughed, "I'm hoping my mother didn't send me to some weird cult event. It wouldn't surprise me, considering the decor."

           "Well, there is a blue moon tonight, that certainly doesn't help their case." They could only hold a straight face for a couple seconds before both burst into laughter, cut short by the sound of someone tapping on a microphone.

           "Attention, everyone!" The hostess called, "The moon should be passing overhead shortly, we will be dimming the lights momentarily, so please find your Pair."

           "Oh my God," Kaito breathed, "This is actually a cult event." Shinichi was stopped from retorting, the sudden darkness causing a moment of slight panic.

           The dark room was filled with hushed whispers and giggles from within the crowd, the light from the skylight to meager to illuminate the room. Slowly, the whispers were silenced as moon light creeped into the room, and Shinichi caught his breath.

           As the moonlight entered the room, it revealed something that was normally invisible to the naked eye. Red threads appeared around all of the Pairs little fingers, glowing softly, tied to their soulmate. Couples eagerly watched as the thread was revealed, looking toward their partners hand, a tangible representation of the connection they share. It was pure magic.

           Coming to a sudden realization, Shinichi whipped his hand in front of his face, anticipating the string to lead out of the door, toward his mysterious soulmate he had crossed paths with so long ago. It didn't. Shinichi held his breath as he followed the string from its place on his finger, as it dipped down from the lack of tension, as it made a loop on the floor, as it climbed back up, as it tied itself around someone else's finger. Kaito's finger. Shinichi's eyes shot up to the magician's face. The magician wasn't looking at him, his eyes were trained on Shinichi's hand, a look of wonder and awe on his face. Shinichi reached out with the same hand that held Kaito's attention and slowly tilted the magician's face up. Kaito locked eyes with him and the smile that followed stole Shinichi's breath away.

           "Wow," Kaito said, wonder in his voice.

           "Yeah," Shinichi replied.

           "I mean, I knew I had a stupid huge crush on you, but to learn that your my actual soulmate?"

           "Wait, stop. You had a stupid huge crush on me?" Shinichi was bewildered; he never could have imagined that Kaito would fall for him.

           "Yeah," Kaito laughed, looking a little embarrassed, "Since the first time I saw you."

           "Oh God," Shinichi buried his face in his hands, "Do you mean to tell me we both had a case of love at first sight?"

           "Wait, really? You had a crush on me?"

           "Duh. I'm not exactly the best at being subtle. I thought you knew, just didn't say anything for my sake." Kaito laughed.

           "So, soulmates, huh?" Kaito grabbed his hands, admiring the red that tied them together.

           "Yeah," Shinichi said, gazing into Kaito's wonder-filled eyes, "Soulmates." Wordlessly, Shinichi leaned forward, and Kaito, without further prompting, matched his movements. For the first time, with many more to follow, Shinichi kissed his soulmate.

[cinnaminja]

stripped (2) ; kim jongdae

Words: +1.5k

Genre: Angst

Rating: T

Warning(s): Language, Mentions of abduction

{ part one | part two }

[ A/N.- this was long overdue... this was only supposed to be a sequel but I think this turned into an accidental series. they will be a part three to this because I hate cliffhangers just like the rest of you probably do. 

“Don’t cry again… I don’t like it when you cry. You’ll be fine with me! I’m a good person. I’ll be good to you. All you need to is—“ he leaned across toward me — “listen to me.”

The glint from our first meeting was now apparent in his eyes. You could see every bit of threat and emotion sparking intimidatingly. The warmth was gone. The friendliness was forgotten. The happy-go-lucky façade was stripped away to bare the core of sin.

This was Kim Jongdae.

It was strange seeing fear in a man that invoked fear. This was a sign of weakness and I wasn't sure if he knew it but if he did, he wasn't ashamed of showing it.

We had been standing in front of the door leading to his house for awhile now. His eyes were transfixed on the doorknob but he made no move to open it. He appeared to be pondering something extremely crucial as if whether he opened the door or not would alter his whole life. The hopeful side of me wished he was having an internal battle with his subconscious that guilt-tripped him for taking me against my will.

After what seemed like forever, Jongdae finally made up his mind and unlocked the door by punching in the passcode. I guessed he was back to his ironically cheerful self since he had gestured for me to go in first in a mock gentlemanly fashion; even so, I preferred this side of him over the raw and uncut version I witnessed earlier.

The inside was surprisingly well-kept. I wasn't sure what I was expecting from someone with a personality like a two-sided coin but it definitely wasn't a modern, warm looking environment full of pictures and souvenirs from different places. Two things I learned from Jongdae by surveying the interior was that he had money and that he had a solid social circle.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said after he let me look around his living room. "I think we should go upstairs to my room because they might --"

"Jongdae, is that you?" A voice called from atop of the stairs.

An upbeat man with pink hair thundered down the steps with a visible frown that jutted out his bottom lip childishly. He wasn't aware of my presence yet judging at how he focused his attention onto Jongdae, who was now trying not to express how anxious he was feeling.

"Kim Jongdae, do you have any idea what I had to go through to cover your ass because that place you 'worked' at was hounding me over your sudden resignation?!" The pouty man exclaimed while throwing his hands up. "I had to make up the dumbest shit on the spot!! How they believed me I have no idea but for fuck's sake, at least warn me when you're gonna do something stupid!!"

My mouth was agape the entire time he spoke. Jongdae resigned from the place my dad worked at? I knew he was lying to me when he said that they let him out early for working hard but I had no idea he actually resigned.

"I'm sorry, Baek, I forgot," he side-eyed me as he replied to his friend's outburst.

'Baek' scoffed. "You better be. I could've thrown you under the bus and told them all about your creepy habits. You owe me BIG."

He turned on his heel, ready to walk away from him smugly, but he froze when he finally laid his eyes on me. He pointed straight at me and looked back and fort between me and Jongdae with shock evident on his face

"Who is... Is she... Did you -- oh my god," he stuttered. "It's her!"

"Yes now please tell me Minseok isn't here right now because if he is, you might want to lower your fucking voice so he doesn't find out."

He stared at me but directed his voice back at him. "He isn't here right now but you're so lucky he isn't"

I took a step back out of instinct when he approached me. Jongdae's friend assessed me from all angles and gave an approving nod.

"Keep your distance, Byun Baekhyun,"  Jongdae warned.

Baekhyun gave me a wide grin and stuck out his hand as if I was a guest in his home.

"Nice to meet you, Dae's lady, I'm one of Jongdae's best friends, Byun Baekhyun!" He leaned forward slightly, "Not to scare you or anything but you're screwed when Minseok gets here but don't worry! I got you and that loser's ass over there covered."

"Baekhyun"

I stared at his outstretched hand in thought. This guy was an accomplice to Jongdae's crime. He lacked common sense and a subconscious just like him and for some reason, I expected him to be as creepy as he was seeing that they lived together. The curling smirk, the shining eyes glinting with fake promises... it's no wonder that they got along so well. They were alike.

Suddenly I was afraid of the third person they mentioned. Would he be like them too?

"I'm not touching you," I hissed out.

Baekhyun retrieved his hand, placing it over his heart instead in faux hurt.

"Ouch! The queen bee stings! Dae didn't tell me you were a feisty one."

"You think I'd sit back and let you two fuck me over?" I glared at him. "I'm not like those girls in the movies. I refuse to throw myself at your feet."

Jongdae's gaze on me hardened. There was an unspoken threat swimming in his eyes and I was reminded of how he told me to 'behave' before he shoved me in his car.

Baekhyun on the other hand let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh man, this is amazing!" He wiped away his nonexistent tears. "You're definitely better than I was hoping for, I like you."

He held up two thumbs. "Welcome, new housemate"

Just as he said this, the beeping sound of the lock pad outside was heard from inside the house. Panic erased Baekhyun's grin and fear settled on Jongdae's face.

"Fun's over, we need to go upstairs," Jongdae rushed as he went to me and steered me to the staircase.

The pink fluffed man stopped him. "Wait, it's better if he knows now because I can't be there for you when he bursts in your room to clean sees the ladybug over there trying to climb out the window"

"Baek, please not now! Maybe in a few hours when he isn't so --"

"Isn't so what?"

All three of us turned to find a blond man dressed in a black-suited business outfit. His sharp eyes glanced between Jongdae and Baekhyun who was trying to shield me away from his view.

"Tired!" Baekhyun blurted out. "We know how tired you get from work so we wanted to get out of the way and let you relax."

The one called Minseok clutched his jacket in his hand. "That doesn't matter because I clearly see the woman cowering behind you two.

"I don't know what I was expecting to see when I got Baekhyun's text about how Jongdae resigned from his mediocre job, maybe Baekhyun half-dead with Jongdae trying to kill him but it sure wasn't another mouth to feed" -- he sighed -- "The two better explain why Jongdae's weird obsession is here before I make sure both of you are half-dead"

Baekhyun shoved the brunet forward, urging him to explain.

Jongdae cleared his throat. "You know that job was only a source to get more information about her. I found a chance to get this whole thing over with so I decided I didn't need to be there anymore."

Minseok crossed his arms. "Still doesn't answer what I asked you"

"I'm getting there," he said. "This is the result from that chance I took. You know how impatient I can get so I quit, followed her and then kidnapped her"

The intimidating blond took in his words as he focused his eyes on me. He did a mini assessment like Baekhyun did but how he raked his gaze over my figure made me feel minuscule and beneath him.

"I see"

"There are no bruises, I checked," Baekhyun spoke up. "Well um, except for her wrist..."

I held up my wrists and saw a ring of purple going around my right wrist. A deep sinking feeling pitted my stomach when I realized it was from when Jongdae dragged me out of the mall in his iron grip. The mark of his hand was imprinted on my skin.

"That's careless, Jongdae"

"She was fighting me," he mumbled.

Minseok rubbed his temples. "You don't hurt things you like, especially not people"

"...I know"

"Okay. Why don't we have dinner first and then we can talk about this mess?"

Baekhyun already made a bee line to the kitchen so he could avoid having to witness Minseok's silent rage. His voice was called, "What does the lady like?"

I stayed silent.

"I'm making whatever we have, okay? If she doesn't like it, don't kill me."

I grumbled. "What makes you think I'll eat?"

Jongdae glanced behind me. "You'll eat"

'...I guess I'll eat'

[vetivrr]

Mafia au Willdip

AN: my excuse is I’m bored and haven’t slept in twenty seven hrs. ok

Will had refused, as soon as he’d grown old enough, to be a part of the Mafia.

He’d known he wasn’t cut out for it, and his family had known too, despite the blood of so many murderers running through his veins the younger of the Cipher twins had never ever claimed to be anything other than peaceable, a quality that wasn’t welcome in the not-so-subtle underworld of the huge city he called home.

At some point it had been decided that Will was untrainable and needed to be removed from the equation, and yet the natural ties of affection that might run through even the bloodiest of families had spared his life, and he’d been given a small business in a nice section of the city and told to make do.

And he did, and not only that but thrived. William loved the little flower shop he headed, doted over each and every aspect of the job with a tender devotedness that he never would have found in the morally questionable life of a mafioso.

Baby’s breath and roses were far less likely to kill him, after all.

Oh, it wasn’t to say he wasn’t touched by the whole organization, nobody in the city and probably elsewhere was, but he’d been lucky enough to witness only one or two of the gruesome things that resulted from the greed of his species, the rumors and names that flew about in hushed tones in side-rooms and speakeasies- names of some who’d died and some who’d killed, and he’d heard, more often than not, the name Cipher listed among the latter two…and in later years, another, the Gleefuls.

He’d heard his brother speak once or twice of the family as they’d risen to power from seemingly nowhere, and it had never been good. Cowards, he’d called them, a bunch of fake-ritzy bluenoses hiding behind silver gilt gates of the east end. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Bill had quite a high social status himself- at least on papers.

Bill tended to exaggerate his stories a little, but his brother had learned to watch out for the name anyway, though he was lucky enough not to run into anyone of the powerful family himself.

It hadn’t ever really been something he’d concerned himself with, though. Will was perfectly content to work his little flower shop, and while he loved seeing his brother, he could never really seem to relax when Bill showed up with his odd looking packages and stacks of sealed papers and talk of underground war, often only needing a place to lay low for a while until he could get back to ‘work’.

And for at least a few days after every visit, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous, watching the street-sides as he walked and carefully scrutinizing the faces of each new customer that opened the shop’s front door to look for any trace of ill-will or worse, recognition. He tried, hard, to be careful.

So it really shouldn’t have come as such a surprise when he finally was confronted– but then, Will was never on his alert this early in the morning, still busy tending the rows of bright, cheery blossoms and humming a little tune to himself as he worked, still a little sleepy from post-wake up haze, and he didn’t turn around immediately when the door opened behind him.

That was a mistake, because if he had he might have had a chance to realize what was going on before there was a gun pointed into his face.

“Good morning! I’m gonna need you to stick 'em up, sweetheart,” He heard the almost sickly sweet voice, turning his head slightly with a soft smile already in place- that froze when he saw the bright silver revolver, and the intimidating bunch who had crowded into his store with frighteningly silent rapidity.

Will let out an ungainly, high pitched squeak in response, stumbling backwards a bit, flinching as he knocked over a pot and it crashed to the floor behind him- to say he was surprised would have been a gross understatement, he was positively petrified.

But the owner of the voice, a finely dressed young lady, only laughed. The weapon in her hand was unwavering as she advanced on him, “Why so startled, darling? You really should have seen this coming, ya know,” She chirped out, “Now do what I said 'less you want some daylight through the skull. Now be a dear and get behind the counter.”

Will was hardly able to hear the order through the rushing in his ears, but he took the cue and did as told, slipping behind the shop’s little service counter and keeping his trembling hands raised a little.

There were five of them, he counted, his assailant and three other obviously armed men in pinstripe and bowlers, and a respectable looking young man who seemed almost out of place in the bunch, though it was made less so by the resemblance and similar navy blue garb he shared with the female ne'er do well. Cyan eyes seemed to follow every move Will made, though nothing else in his appearance would suggest hostility as he simply watched.

The Cipher had other things to worry about at the moment, however, and his eyes snapped back to the woman as she spoke smilingly, at a terrifying ease with one finger tightening against the trigger, “I won’t waste your time. You know what we want. Where is it.”

Will shook his head quickly, besides very much not knowing what she was talking about, he was just beginning to gain his voice back, “What are you doing–!?” He managed, the soft, panicked whisper only to elicit another laugh.

“You really wanna play this game with me, sweetie? Look, I don’t got a lot of patience to go round, so unless you really want me to pull the trigger…”

Will hardly dared move, hardly dared breathe, through his hands were already trembling violently as he tore his gaze away from the glinting metal barrel of the gun, up to its smug looking owner. He shook his head mutely, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now where’s the back door? I think we’ll just take a look around here.”

He felt as if he was going to faint, numb with shock, mind barely processing the question until the girl leaned forwards with a suddenly dangerous expression, “Hey! Patience ain’t my strong suit, mister. I asked you a question.”

Will’s whimper was barely audible, feeling the cold steel muzzle to his forehead and the faint, harsh smell of gunpowder clouding his senses. He just barely remembered not to flinch away and pointed a shaking finger in the direction of his apartment door, sucking in a gasp of relief when the gun was removed from his line of sight.

“Swell,” The young woman purred, giving a few signals, and turning away. “I’ll be back in a few, then!”

Will watched helplessly as she disappeared down the aisle, followed by one or two of the group’s men, but he forced himself to calm at least a little, sucking in a few deep breaths.

He glanced back to the other ones, who had been left to watch him, no doubt. Or more specifically, the gentlemanly one, the woman’s brother, he assumed if appearance was anything to go by. The man was still staring at him.

He couldn’t think too much of that, though, preoccupied with worrying over what might be going on upstairs. Were they going to ruin his cozy little apartment? What did they want, what could he possibly have that they would want??

What if Bill had hidden something here without telling him, Will almost felt sick to wonder? He wouldn’t doubt for a second it was something his hot-blooded twin would pull.

“You would do well to keep your hands where I can see them.”

Will startled at the glint of silver that showed as the man’s caplet parted for a few seconds, realizing he’d let his hands drop to his sides. He raised them again quickly, “S-sorry,” He muttered, noticing immediately the cultured accent to his words, and watching wide eyed as the other moved forwards, until he was stopped by the wooden barrier.

“You can rest them on the counter,” The brunette added flatly, and Will was quick to comply, something in the tone and glint in bright blue eyes telling him it was not a suggestion or a relent.

He was too frightened to speak and so he didn’t, eyes locked with the other’s until he couldn’t bear it anymore and looked away.

“Apologies for my sister- I told her it would be best to take a more subtle approach. You have a nice shop.”

“What?” Will glanced up with a disbelieving look. Had this mafioso just apologized for robbing him? And then given him a compliment??

“You’re welcome. Quite a lovely assortment of flowers, especially for this time of year,” The man continued, gesturing around him with a tiny smile. “What’s your name?”

Will was silent, at a loss for how to respond, brain stuttering from stress and everything he had to process, and he finally managed out, “Ph..philip. Garcia…a-and you are?”

It was what Bill had told him to say, the pseudonym that would keep him safe from getting caught up in the danger of the Mafia- the name he ran his shop under, though he’d ever enjoyed that.

A flash of amusement ran through the other’s features, “Hmm…call me Dipper.”

He let it fall into silence, staring at the shorter male until Will seemed inclined to speak again, “Why are you introducing yourself??”

Will waited for an answer, growing more uneasy the longer he didn’t get one, “Wh-hy are you here? What are you trying to do…you c-can’t get away with this- you won’t.”

Dipper chuckled, “Are you really sure of that? I wouldn’t be, were I you.”

Will gulped slightly, “Th-the police-”

“Are conveniently busy elsewhere and will not be at your disposal for some time,” The criminal interjected smoothly, but through the lighthearted tone, the first signs of hostility showed. “Do you really think they’ll be any help to you at all? You don’t recognize us, then?”

Will swallowed thickly, glancing out the store windows as if searching for help that wasn’t there. “No, why would I…” He muttered quietly, scrambling for words that wouldn’t betray his fear, “B-but others will help me. I-I have friends-”

“Really? That’s quite interesting to hear. Friends in the mafia, no doubt,” Dipper finally glanced away, eyes sweeping over the lovingly arranged displays and briefly to the windows, “Where you you get your stock from, I must wonder? They must have been grown indoors to even be in bloom.”

“I…I-I don’t…” He trailed off, brows knitting together in utter confusion, resisting the urge to reach out and protest as the man took a single sprig of coltsfoot from a larger bouquet, the tiny yellow petals gleaming gold against the silk navy vest, twirling the stem gently between his fingers as he glanced back at the other.

The mirth dropped out of the man’s face and he stepped off to the side as if about to come behind the counter, adding out of the blue, “You’re not used to lying, are you, Mr. Cipher?”

Will blanched, forgetting to try and look brave as he took a tiny step back, “I-I’m not—how-”

“Deduction,” Dipper said simply, “I know what I see and I know what I know. And I know that you look very much like someone I’ve had the displeasure of meeting already.”

Will found he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing aloud- what had Bill done?

“I’m not him,” Will blurted out, “I’m not wh-who you’re looking for…”

“Wrong. You’re exactly who I’m looking for.”

“Wh-what?”

But he had little time to puzzle, jumping as the unnamed girl reappeared, looking, if it were at all possible, even more smug than she had before.

“It was in his bathroom. Quite cleverly hidden, actually,” She grinned, sending a malicious giggle his way as she addressed the other brunet.

And suddenly it seemed to Will that he wasn’t in as much danger, as they appeared to be preparing to leave. A hand gesture had the rest of the men filing out of his door, and he watched, expression still mildly stunned.

Dipper nodded, “Very good- I thought you would be able…” The mafioso’s voice was neutral, even as he lauded his sister, “I’ve spoken with him. He’s a bystander, as I suspected. No need for extra measures.”

“Good. He won’t be a problem, then?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed at the neutral response she gained, and she turned of the other again, filling Will with dread again as she pointed her pistol, “You. Tell the cops if ya want, but don’t you go and be surprised if it doesn’t help. And if anyone else comes asking questions, we didn’t take anything. Understand?”

“Y-yes…” Will nodded quickly, well aware that he wasn’t really in a position to argue, and relaxed a little when she seemed satisfied, turning away to the door.

“Good, cause we’d know either way, bet on it,” The girl chuckled grimly, door creaking as she opened it- but didn’t pass through. She was waiting for Dipper, the man having reached into his trouser pocket.

A small card emerged along with his hand, and Will watched with a cautious curiosity as it was slipped onto the counter.

“Be careful with that. If anyone does come poking around, it would be in both our best interests for you to ring. Trust me.”

No further explanation was given, only the same lingering stare, before Dipper turned away, letting his sister slip her arm into his and pull him out the door without a backwards glance, the two briefly visible in the display windows before they disappeared from sight.

Will was still for a full minute after that, staring after them and glancing around his little store once or twice as if he wanted to make sure everyone was really gone. He pulled in a huge breath of relief and reached for the card, grabbing it and sliding to the floor to calm his frayed nerves.

The back of the card was what he saw first, and it was a telephone address, a single line of numbers written in small, neat hand. He turned it over and let his eyes grow round.

'Gleeful Enterprises’, embossed with silver into the rich blue paper, with the family’s crest stamped into it, off to one side.

Will bit his lip and stood back up, then stumbled out from behind the counter to race upstairs.

He had a horrible feeling that this wasn’t nearly the end of the matter.

But for now, he needed to find Bill.

~~~~~

The twins were silent as they headed back to their car, eyes sharp and on the watch for enemies until they were safely inside, and the vehicle was pulling away from the curb.

“Well, that went absolutely wonderful.”

Mabel was, as usual, the one to strike up conversation as they settled down into the leather-lined cab. Dipper only glanced at her, eyes mostly still fastened onto the shop’s front door until it was far behind them.

“You were marvellous, sister dear,” He praised, with an approving smile as his sister produced a small parcel of letters tied with a string, “Mm-hm,” Mabel grinned triumphantly, handing it over the Gleeful boy, who slipped it into his pocket without looking through it.

“Now I get the rest of the day off- celebrate with me?” Her question was halfway a taunt, because she already knew the answer, and smirked as it was spoken,

“I don’t think I’ll have time,” Dipper’s nose wrinkled at the thought of spending a night in one of the speakeasy’s his sister was fond of attending, “Uncle asked me to take care of an employee who’s been asking questions.”

Mabel gave a light huff, “When do you, gotta ask? You’re telling me you’ll spend the entire night working on that? Pull the trigger and they’re out, problem solved.”

“I’ll have a bit of research to conduct as well. You should know I’ll be setting a few boys on the florist’s place.”

Mabel turned in her seat, regarding her brother with inquisitive skepticism, “Why?”

“Did you think I would have suspected that shop without a reason? Think back to his features and tell me who he reminds you o-”

“Golly,” Mabel breathed, eyes widening for a moment before a smooth smirk slid into her expression, “Now that you mention it…”

“I want to watch him. Closely,” Dipper explained, with an air of industrial indifference.

He didn’t think he would have minded telling her there were other reasons, he’d learned to bear Mabel’s merciless teasing after so long, and she no doubt would have been thrilled to know that she wasn’t the only alone in her legally questionable romantic tendencies…

But he wanted Will to himself for a while, wanted to see what the little florist was made of and what made him special.

“He could be useful to us.”

“I’ll bet. What a patsy,” Mabel snickered a little, “Big brother probably doesn’t tell him a whole lot about the family business, though.”

Dipper hummed, and turned his eyes to the road ahead, sharp eyes flicking over the crowds of people on the street sides, in the cars, bustling in and out of shops or enjoying midday coffee and the editorials- ever alert for the enemy.

“We’ll see.”

[necrowriter]

Caffeine Challenge 23

Dialogue Prompt: “Their job wasn’t to save you.”

Alright, I confess-this ran a little bit over an hour (I started early). I...got a little carried away. 

“Oh, sir, thank you, thank you for saving me from those awful men!”

Lillie very nearly winced to hear the words even as they came out of her mouth. That had to be laying it on too thick. If she'd done any acting that bad back in her brief sojourn into college theatre, her own classmates would have dragged her off the stage. But the man in the mask and goggles didn't seem to notice. Supervillains generally didn't, she'd found; it was like you weren't speaking their language if you didn't ham it up as much as possible.

“Save you? My dear, I'm afraid you misunderstand the situation.” The man in the mask chuckled darkly. His smug declarations could have benefited from a deeper voice and probably a British accent, but he actually wasn't doing too badly with a slight Midwestern drawl, and Lillie had to admit, he did have a pretty good dark chuckle. Not the best she'd heard, but better than she would have expected for essentially an amateur.  

“You've mistaken the intentions of my Robo-Raptors,” the man went on, reaching out a gloved hand and fondly stroking the exposed metal cheek of the nearest raptor. “Their job wasn't to save you. Their job was to capture you. And they've done it admirably well, if I do say so myself.”

Inside, Lillie sighed. Oh my goodness, the giant red-eyed dinosaur deathbots weren't on an errand of mercy? Who could have guessed??

But she had a job to do, even if it was getting to be a highly irritating one lately, so instead of saying that, she pulled a look of utter shock and gasped, “What-what do you mean?”

The masked man clapped his hands, and one of the raptors reached out and lifted her up by the back of her coat. There were going to be some impressive tooth-marks in that later, Lillie mused; fortunately she'd long since learned to not wear any clothes she especially cared about on missions like this.

“I understand you're a person of some importance to Captain Comet,” the man said, gesturing casually at the raptor, which obligingly swung her up onto the back of another raptor. Lillie stifled a faint sigh of relief at this. She had not been looking forward to being dragged all the way back to wherever they were going. The neck pain alone was a terrible prospect. “He'll come looking for you, no? And then we shall have...a talk. Oh, yes.”

That dialogue could use some polishing, Lillie thought absently while she gasped in horror. It's just not quite his style, but a few tweaks could really make it work for him. A better way to control the raptors would probably help, too. Hand clapping just isn't in vogue.

Of course, no one ever asked her about these things.

“Oh, no!” she wailed, as the raptors took off at a run.

It had all started so sensibly.

Alright, so she was, essentially, a secretary. But there was nothing wrong with that, and she was a good secretary. She kept things in order for the entire Sanctum Tower, home base for the League and waystation for a good twenty superheroes coming in and out on an average day-sometimes more. That was no small task. And she'd didn't blink at any of the weird stuff: not when Feral had one of his rampages and needed new pants and a quiet cool-down room afterward, not when one of Cold Steel's many volatile devices malfunctioned and filled most of a floor with some noxious chemical, not when Fusion casually called up and mentioned that he needed a new shipment of uranium by this afternoon, not even when the nefarious Doctor Lobo had somehow managed to fill the entire tower full of sheep.

So when someone-she didn't remember who-had come up with the brilliant idea of luring out Starshooter's adversary by having her pose as the superhero's hapless girlfriend, well...it didn't seem that bad at the time. Starshooter and Subterfuge had been stuck in a deadlock for months, getting nowhere, and the pressure was mounting every day; Subterfuge, as befitted his name, was a little too good at infiltration and hacking and various other things that made the government very antsy about him being loose for too long. But he was also something of an old-school nostalgic, the sort that probably wouldn't be able to resist a good kidnapping and ransom-holding. So what was she supposed to do? Say no? There didn't seem to be anyone else to do it; all the female heroes were far too well known for the ploy to work. (And the fact that, for total realism in Starshooter's instance, it wouldn't be a female hero at all wasn't well known enough to work.) And, oh, everyone said, Lillie was so brave and tough and capable, she'd be excellent at it. She didn't even flinch when the Crusader broke in and had her at raygun-point the other week. And she'd be perfectly safe, they all assured her; the minute Subterfuge tried anything, the entire League would be on top of him.

So she'd agreed. She hadn't realized she was setting a precedent.

The problem was that it had worked. It had worked really well. A few mutually uncomfortable just-public-enough dates, and then one clear afternoon while she and Starshooter were enjoying a nice walk down Valentine Bridge, Subterfuge's drones had snatched her up and were flying her downtown while she screamed helplessly and Starshooter shook his fist and raged. That time she hadn't really had to act too much on the whole screaming-in-terror thing; truth to be told, she'd never had much of a head for heights, and those drones had enjoyed showboating a little too much.

The tracking device she wore in one earring led the League straight to Subterfuge's lair. He was in custody inside of an hour, and somehow, in the ensuing press avalanche, no one quite got around to mentioning that the whole thing had been a ruse. Which was alright with Lillie; she didn't much want the publicity.

And because it had worked so well, it made sense to try it again. It was another desperate situation: Nightfang had escaped from prison again, and he had a particular habit of going after civilians. Especially young women, so didn't the whole scheme make even more sense this time? And didn't it make sense to do it soon, before someone could really get hurt? After all, she'd done so well last time. We can count on Lillie, everyone said. She's dependable.

At least that time she didn't have to pretend to be anyone's girlfriend. She just had to wear more revealing clothing than she was used to, and hang around in the area where they were pretty sure Nightfang had gone to ground. By the time he showed up she was actually rather relieved. Alright, so he was a vampire, and pretty creepy in his own way, but he was still more gentlemanly than most of the other encounters she'd had that evening.

The problem wasn't doing it once or twice. The problem was that they kept asking, and the more times she did it, the harder it got to say no. After all, she'd done it all those other times, how could she object now? And it still made sense. In a way.

But it was frustrating.

They could at least give me a raise for this, she thought, wincing as one of the raptors hit a pothole hard; there was no padding on those things. Overtime. Hazard pay. Something. But then, what kind of selfish jerk would demand to be paid to save the city?

She wondered how long this was going to take. She really wanted to go home and take a long hot bath.

The especially annoying part, if she was being totally honest with herself, was that it got less and less, well, important. Helping Starshooter take down a national threat was one thing, but Captain Comet? He was barely anybody. She wasn't trying to be a snob, really, she wasn't, it was just-she did have other things to do, and quite frankly the kid could have used the practice winning a few battles on his own. He hadn't even tried to have a good showdown with his newfound nemesis, just jumped straight to the fake-girlfriend gambit. Wanted to really get the jump on this new villain, apparently, put him down before he could become a real threat at all-and before he had any chance of making Captain Comet look less than captainly.

Of course, the way he'd posed his so-called request in the first place hadn't exactly helped matters. “Hey, can I use Lillie?” Like she was the company car. Honestly.

[crystall1z3d]

Wanna Hear You Calling My Name Part 2

Based On a TaeTae FMV by AV1United

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Slight Smut, (Might add more)

Pairing : Taehyung x Reader

Words : 1690~

Part 1 | Part 2 |

                                   _____________________________

Y/N laughed as she waved back to Joshua. She had fun today, they had talked for a long, and he was someone who actually had things to talk about. He wasn't only interested in her body, but rather it seemed as though he liked conversing better, he was just someone who was tired and came to Aria to relax in the atmosphere. For Y/N this was the best time she had had in a long time. Someone who didn't want to just have sex, or just talk about work. Someone who didn't care so much but did at the same time. 

Contradicting? Sometimes all she wanted to do was tell her whole life to a stranger. She didn't care if the stranger judged her. But after knowing her whole life was he just a stranger anymore? 

Anyways, they made plans to meet again the next week for a date, and also met each other every other day at the bar. It was nice, she felt nice. She felt like someone, and not just another one. It wasn't because Taehyung had made her feel that way... but burying her feelings in her heart watching him love Mari through everything killed her. She wondered why that wasn't her. In fact even when he was V, she wondered why he never seemed to look at her that way. It was like he never considered her as someone he could love. Sure she didn't want to be just another fling, but it still pricked her that he never considered her a woman. But with Joshua it was different. He actually was looking at her, and talking to her, and not because she was beautiful or pretty, she didn't care about that, and it seemed neither did he. He wanted to know her, know her personality, and she liked that. So slowly they started talking more and in a week, on the date, they were just walking around doing random things. Y/N looked at the glass window shopping as she went by. A certain dress caught her eye, it was a red one piece, and was pretty short, but very pretty. Joshua noticed this and smiling he pulled her into the store. "A-ah! Joshua! It's okay." "No come on, just have a look at it." 

"Well if it's just a look..." Spotting the dress from the model on a rack kept nearby she took it in her hand to take look at it. It had quite an exposing back almost reaching the small of her back, but the front was a draped boat neck and it had very short sleeves. She looked at him curiously, and he motioned towards the Trail room with a smile. "You should try it on." "You think so? Maybe I should." She laughs as she walks into the trail room and starts changing. Back in the store Joshua looks at his phone screen which had been vibrating very often. His expression turned into a frown as he ignored the messages. He knew what he had to do... But somehow after spending time with her it seemed wrong, almost. So he decided to just do it when the time came, till then he would stay true to her. She came out soon and the dress was very body hugging wrapping around her figure comfortably. It wasn't tight, but it was a very body fitting. It suited her very well, and looked very flattering. Almost too flattering honestly, for someone who had only seen her in office wear, which was a mystery almost, since she didn't even go to work. Joshua's eyes widened slightly, and although this was very out of character Y/N blushed a bit. He gave her approving nod. She didn't need it, but she humored him. "It suits you very well." "Thank you!~" He seemed to think for a moment and then card the sales lady over and asked her to bill the dress, telling her that Y/N would be wearing it for today. "Wha-no I can't do that! I can't make you pay for it! It's fine I'll pay." "Of course not Y/N, didn't you know it makes a guy feel better when you let him pay for things on a date." He gives you a smile before walking over to the counter. Both of them walked around a bit more, and then finally to end the day they went to Aria.

POV Change 

Today was almost a special day, Yoongi was there as the music mixer and the whole place livelier than ever. I smiled and hugged Yoongi when I saw him. "It's been a long time! How's music making going?" He smiles at me warmly, "It's going good. How about you?" "Mhmm, I'm writing everyday, should definitely get the draft done on time~" "That's good, but I was talking about another aspect." He says gesturing with eyes. I slap him lightly on the shoulder. "Geez! Yeah it's going good." I say laughing and blushing slightly. For some reason Yoongi always seemed to know when something was up. In this case, something good was up. He ruffles my hair and smiles at me. "That's good kid. You need to smile like that more often. Taehyung treating you alright?" I frown slightly. "Well I haven't met him much the last few days, but really being around Joshua is really nice. He makes me feel happy." I smile lightly happy, but I don't notice Yoongi's expression changing. "Joshua?"

 "Yep! I met him recently right here! He's working as a Forex Trader. I didn't tell you about him?" I tilt my head a bit just realizing that I hadn't told Yoongi anything yet. 

"Ah right I haven't told you anything yet.." 

He raises an eyebrow as if to say, 'you think?'.

"I would love to tell you but you have to DJ, If I keep you distracted you might just decide not to do it, so..." "Yeah well I've done enough for tonight, I need to sit, so I just decided not to do it~" I sigh and shake my head at him.He jumps down from the podium and plops himself down on a couch immediately. "Yah Yoongi!" I am about to tell him how lethargic he was being when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. When I turn around I see Joshua standing there with two glasses in his hand. I giggle slightly, completely not like me, "An appletini!" 

"You remembered?" 

"Of course!" He says, handing me the drink. Then he glances at Yoongi and then looks at me. "Ah! That's right, Joshua this is Yoongi? Yoongi this is Mr. Joshua Wren, the one I was talking about?"  

Yoongi nods in acknowledgement. Joshua put his hand forward to shake, and Yoongi takes it. 

"Nice to meet you." 

Yoongi stares for a second and then nods giving him a small smile. Joshua turns to me immediately. 

"Miss Y/N I unfortunately got called to work-"

 "Awh... Is everything okay?" I said scrunching my eyebrows together. 

"Yes yes, it's the usual. Nothing is stable in the exchange market." He says moving his hand in the air as if to say it wasn't anything at all. "But I would love to have a dance with you, before I have to leave. I would hate to let this opportunity go." 

"Oh! Sure, I would love to!" I smile at him, he was so courteous and gentlemanly. He smiles slightly and pulls out his hand, holding it out to me. "Ah..." I blush slightly and put my hand into his and he pulls me onto the dance floor. POV change V came up to Yoongi just in time to hear him say, "Wren..." 

He tilted his head to the side.

"Wren?" Yoongi looks towards him not even surprised at his sudden appearance. 

He motions towards the dance floor and He sees Y/N and another guy I had seen somewhere. Infact he was quite familiar to him. "Joshua Wren. He's the one who's got Y/N so happy. I'm glad for her but I can't help but think I've heard the name Wren somewhere..." V narrowed his eyes at Joshua. "I'm sure you have." 

"Do you know him?" 

Without answering V moves forward and stands just in the front of the crowd that had formed around Y/N and Joshua.  He folded his hands in front of him. There were many emotions swelling up inside him right now. One was distinctively anger. And the other he couldn't quite recognize. It was something he had felt before, but the first time for Y/N or at this magnitude. These were the gnawings of jealousy. He watched as Joshua bent Y/N down and as his hand brushed over her naked back. He couldn't seem to look away. As his hands seem to touch her lightly. As he danced with her. And the worst thing, was her. She looked happy. That just made it worse than anything. Joshua's eyes met V's. He didn't look surprised in the least, but he raised an eyebrow as his hands seemed to tighten on her. 

He tsk-ed. The dress was more revealing than anything else she had ever worn. V clenched his fist, trying to gain control of himself. Just then someone passed by him. Someone with a very familiar perfume. Seeing whom the dance stopped. Mari smiled venomously at Y/N. 

"Dancing Y/N? It doesn't suit people your age." 

"...some people need to start using glue sticks instead of chapsticks honestly."  

"Well anyways! A thought crossed my mind." 

"Must have been a long lonely journey..." I say looking at her wearily, as she babbled on ignoring me. 

"We should have a dancing competition tomorrow." 

"You want to dance against someone you think doesn't suit dancing? Mari, you need to have more confidence in yourself. If you keep your confidence so low you'll lose out on opportunities~" 

Y/N said, smiling and patting her shoulder. Mari swatted her hand away and Y/N adopted an expression of fake innocence, looking distressed. 

"You'd better come tomorrow. Don't run away." 

"Never been a sports person." 

With that last sentence Y/N patted her shoulder lightly and walked straight out of the conversation.

So! Let me know what you guys think? ^^

Part 2 finally after so long!!

[whenimaunicorn]

Charles. Darling.

Black Sails Fanfic

Charles Vane x female Reader

I got prompted for the fake marriage trope, gathering intel about a prize. The Reader is a member of the Ranger crew.

“Watch your hands. She’s mine.”

Captain Vane’s arm snakes tight around your waist, pulling you in snug against his body. You bite your tongue, trying not to display either surprise or displeasure, and force your furrowing brow to smooth. You hadn’t even known he was in this tavern. And while you resent being rescued in in such a predictable, demeaning manner, it is also true that you had no idea how you were going to handle your current predicament without resorting to violence yourself.

The man crowding you at the bar, a Mr. Fellows, takes half a step back. Vane is a bared saber all on his own, his very presence and dark look just as threatening as a pistol in one’s hand. You suppose this is one of those times that he is worth wielding, and you wrap your hand over his thick wrist at your waist. Sinking into him the way you imagine a relieved wife ought to, you pat the back of his hand. “There you are, Charles darling.” His breath catches at your term of endearment, and you figure he is trying not to laugh at you. “Calm yourself, I’ve barely been out of your sight for ten minutes! I know how you fret, but please, don’t take it out on this poor man.”

In actuality, you’d like nothing more than to watch Vane smash Mr. Fellows’ face in, after the things he’d been saying to you, but you could not set loose his wrath for the same reason you hadn’t been reaching for your own belt-knife: Fellows had turned out to be the contact the Ranger’s crew had been scouring the whole of Port Royal for. Without his cooperation, this entire voyage will have turned out to be for nothing. And the men on your crew would never forgive you for ruining it over an offense to your feminine sensibilities. Most of them would probably even want you to fuck the information out of the man. At least Vane had taken that option off the table, with his clumsy, possessive rescue...

Fellows clears his throat with a nervous noise. Vane’s not done staring down at you in his arms, however, and you can’t quite tear your gaze away from him either. He’s never held you like this before; you’ve never let him get so close. You become aware of how fast your heart is beating, and you’re not certain you can attribute the entirety of its pace to anger at Mr. Fellows’ bad behavior. “N-newlyweds?” the man stutters, offering up a handy excuse. Oh, how quickly a man’s attitude can change, when a bigger dick walks into the room.

“Yes,” Vane smiles to him. It’s a false smile, wide and too cheerful, something you’ve never seen spread across his face, but Fellows wouldn’t know that. Certainly the lopsided grin is fitting for the ruse. He hugs you even closer, his big hand spreading up the side of your bodice, and even leans in to press a kiss to the side of your forehead.

Shameless. His affection would be positively bawdy in the more respectable circles you once walked in, but it fits the dirty alehouse just fine.

You watch Fellows stiffen; Vane must have resumed his usual scowl abruptly above your head. “And I don’t take kindly to anyone bothering my wife. If—”

You cut him off before moods can sour any further. “Darling, it’s just a misunderstanding.” You turn your face up, willing him with the force of your eyes to pay attention. “This is Mr. Fellows. And he has some very interesting stories to tell.”

Vane’s brows crease; from the flash of annoyance in his face you can see that at first he thinks you’re just trying to confound him. His embrace tightens on you, and then you see it click. He gives the man another look. “Is that so. Well then. I’m Charles Vane, captain of the Ranger.” He extends his right hand for a friendly shake. “How about I buy us a round, and we’ll all sit and talk a while.” Even when he tries to sound gentlemanly, that scraping growl of a voice he has still sounds like a threat.

Fellows’ eyes shift back and forth in rapid thought, and you can see that he’s got an idea now what’s going on, that you had not started chatting him up by accident. His face starts to glower, but he’s not looking at the door so you don’t think you’ve lost the chance at making a deal with him. You just have to change your strategy now, to incorporate Vane’s looming presence.

Vane signals the barmaid, and draws you toward an open table. His arm stays decidedly around your waist. You don’t think it’s quite necessary to keep selling the marriage ruse, but you’re not going to ruin it by pushing him away.

It’s only after he plops down in a seat that you realize the table he’s chosen only has two chairs. Fellows assumes the other, while Vane tries to pull you down into his lap. You look down at him crossly, not making a scene by resisting physically, but letting your displeasure be known as soon as you are seated across his thighs. “Charles. Darling. Get me a chair.”

A boyish grin is tugging at the edges of his lips. “I thought you said my lap was the best seat in the house.” Oh, you want to smack him. He is having entirely too much fun with this now.

“Just because when we met, I was acting like an alehouse strumpet, does not mean you get the show every night.” His scarred brow raises, and you feel a thrill that you don’t quite understand. “I am a wife now. And a ranking member of your crew. And I will comport myself as such.” As you rise, you ignore the feeling of Vane’s fingers trailing off your body only reluctantly. You grab a chair from another table and turn it around, seating yourself between Vane and Fellows.

Soon, the negotiations turn more serious, but Vane’s hand never leaves your thigh.

More Vane here

[seriouslyhooked]

False Alarms (A CS AU) Part 1/?

Modern AU where Emma is a Boston police detective and Killian is firefighter. They both get called to a fire in progress but it ends up being a false alarm, however there can be no denying the sparks between them. Includes fluff and my usual attempts at humor as well as a touch of fake-dating and meddling friends. Inspired by the song ‘False Alarm’ by Motoma and Becky Hill. Rated M for future chapters.

Also on Fanfiction Here.

A/N: Hey all! So today has not been a great day for me and as such I figured it was as good a time as any to get started on a new story that can distract me with fluff. Since way back when in the sweet summertime I’ve had a few people ask me for stories with Killian as a firefighter and I think I’ve finally stumbled on the exact story I want to write with that element. I hope you’ll all enjoy and thanks for reading!

“Are you going to finish that?” Emma looked up from the slice of pizza that was inches from her mouth to her best friend and partner Ruby.

From anyone else a question like this would be unexpected, but Emma and Ruby went way back and Emma was hardly surprised by Ruby’s quirks anymore. They’d met years ago in the academy training to be good police, and since day one Ruby had made two things very clear. The first was that she would take no shit from anyone ever. Superior, peer, friendly neighborhood witness, or perp, it did not matter. Ruby Lucas would not stand to be disrespected. And the second thing was that she never wasted food and she was never too full to pass up a meal or try and scrounge from someone else.

“You mean the pizza I’m currently in the middle of eating? Yeah I was thinking about it.” Ruby sighed dramatically.

“Fine. I’ll go order another slice from Tiny, but you owe me.”

Emma laughed and shook her head at the statement. Obviously she owed Ruby nothing but it was still funny that Ruby would say so, and if her slightly delusional friend wanted to pretend that there was some injustice in Emma’s finishing her own pizza, she wouldn’t stand in her way. Besides, it should make a more interesting rest of their shift, which had been quiet so far and was over in a few more hours.

“Just be quick about it. We’re back on in ten,” Emma reminded and Ruby scoffed.

“Oh please. I’ve got this.”

Emma knew that Ruby did beyond the shadow of a doubt, but this was their thing. They bantered back and forth like this in downtime and then shifted into a different gear when the chips were actually down. It helped combat the stresses of their job and this system was what kept them working as well as they did as both friends and partners.

Ruby and Emma had been assigned together officially for two years now (ever since they both passed the detective’s exam), and they worked to be the best of the best in their precinct and beyond. They’re number of solved cases was higher than nearly everyone else, and their records were impressive for any member of the force, never mind two cops as young as the two of them. They put in more overtime than anyone, helped out in any case they could, but they both knew when to walk away and how to tell when their partner was getting in too deep. More than anything Emma and Ruby had each other’s backs and that was what made their partnership so successful.

Part of that drive to be better than the rest was because there weren’t that many other women amongst their peers, but most of it came down to personality. Both Emma and Ruby loved this city and they cared about the people who lived in it. That passion was what kept them going day in and day out, through good times and bad. It wasn’t about keeping spotless reputations and earning good marks from their superiors at the end of the day, but about doing the best that they could with the situations they were given.

But sometimes the situations were less than ideal, like right now when the shrill ringing of Emma’s phone designated for the precinct cut through the pizza shop. Before Emma could so much as answer, Ruby let out a groan from the counter. If they were getting a call on this phone, there was a good chance that their twenty-minute break was about to be cut short.

“This is Emma.” The sigh of relief that came through the phone indicated immediately that the person calling was their desk sergeant Leroy.

“Emma, glad I caught you. We’ve got a situation on the corner of Elm and Washington. I know you’re off, but Reynolds and Bryant-,”

“Have about as much charisma as a wet blanket and as much sense as two frat boys on Greek Week. Yeah I know. We’re on it.” Emma waved Ruby to the door and her friend immediately moved with her, but tossed out a little bit of sass for good measure.

“We are so not on it,” Ruby muttered from beside her and after rolling her eyes, Emma handed her partner the rest of her pizza. “Okay now we’re on it.”

“So what’s going on?” Emma asked Leroy and the man proceeded to fill them in.

Apparently two patrolmen in the area had stumbled upon a hysterical old woman claiming that someone was trying to burn her apartment complex down. They immediately dispatched for Fire Rescue when they saw smoke and station sixty-one was en route. The patrolmen were in pursuit of the offender at that moment, but since Emma and Ruby were off the clock, and their dispatch radio was in their car, they’d missed the call for backup blowing up their feed.

“Great – dealing with some crazy arsonist. That’s exactly how I pictured my Friday going.”

“Ruby!” Emma said, chastising her friend’s laid-back attitude about this. Arson was no joke, and worst of all it was almost impossible to prove unless you caught the person in the act. This was serious and underneath the sarcasm Ruby knew that.

“What? I’m just saying. It’s like the Universe knows we’ve got our first weekend off in months and wants the whole thing sabotaged by paperwork and a citywide manhunt.”

“Now you’re just jumping to conclusions,” Emma replied though she could relate to Ruby’s frustrations on some level.

“I’m imagining possible scenarios. Detective 101 – be prepared for anything.”

“That’s the boy scouts, Ruby.” Her friend considered Emma from across the car and looked doubtful.

“Eh I think that was us first. I’ll ask your Mom next time I see her.”

Emma ignored the comment, trying not to think about her mother as they pulled up to the scene, which despite Leroy’s claims seemed relatively calm. There were two fire trucks out here and a number of firefighters to go with them, but not a one of them was racing into the building at top speed, and the two patrolmen standing outside looked annoyed rather than scared of having let a perp get away.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Ruby said. She was practically giddy at what was coming, and Emma could sense just as Ruby could that this was about to be a huge waste of time.

“Detectives – we’re sorry you got called in on this. It’s a false alarm. An old lady saw smoke on her fire escape but it was just her drunk grandson trying to cook a burger.” Emma put her hands on her hips and shook her head, silently wondering why people thought that was a good idea ever, never mind in the middle of winter.

“Of course it is,” Ruby replied before whispering to Emma. “We’re getting lunch reimbursed for this, you know that right?” Emma smirked but pressed on, trying to be professional.

“Well false alarm or not, we got called in, we have to see for ourselves. Where’s the woman who filed the complaint?”

“She’s inside again, probably throttling her grandson. She’s scrappy that one, when she’s not shrieking at the top of her lungs that is.” Ruby barked out a laugh as the patrolmen gave Emma the rest of the details and signaled for Emma to take the lead.

“After you, partner.”

Emma moved past Ruby through the door and up the stairwell, aiming to get to apartment 3C as fast as she could. The sooner they squared this away, the sooner they could move onto something that mattered again and get to that lovely and long overdue free weekend. Yet as they ascended the stairwell, Emma realized that might not be entirely possible given the firefighters moving down the stairwell at the same time that immediately caught Ruby’s eyes.

“Well hello,” Ruby whispered under her breath low enough so only Emma heard.

“Detective Nolan.” The friendly greeting and gentlemanly tip of a firefighter hat came from Graham Huntsman, a man Emma had known for years. She rolled her eyes at his excessive display. They were friends after all, and she didn’t need the feigned gallantry from her friends.

“Lieutenant. Anything we should know about this on your end?”

“Scarlet made an ass of himself with the ladder. Other than that, just your standard Friday afternoon shenanigans.”

Emma smiled (knowing Will Scarlet well enough to believe Graham’s account) and then noticed Graham’s eyes as they flicked to Ruby. His interest was clear and immediately on display for all to see, Ruby included. Emma had to give him credit though; Graham held back way longer then most guys did and he wasn’t openly ogling her friend, just looking a little longingly at her. Emma decided to throw him a bone for remaining cool when so many others didn’t.

“You remember my partner, Ruby Lucas.”

“We’ve met, yeah.” Ruby tilted her head slightly and pretended to search his features. Emma could read through the ruse immediately, but to anyone else she would appear totally sincere.

“Have we? Huh, go figure. Anyway, Emma, we should go. Don’t want any loose ends on this one.” Ruby offered a polite smile to Graham and then warmer ones to the men beside him as she ushered Emma up the steps with little more than a brief goodbye. When they’d made it to the third floor Emma looked for answers.

“What was that about?” Ruby grinned and immediately looked like the cat that caught the canary and Emma’s suspicions that her best friend was up to something were confirmed.

“Payback. Last time we ‘met’ he didn’t ask for my number.” Emma’s jaw dropped, but she regained her composure fast.

“Ruby we were all working a case.”

“Right, and the second that case was over he should have asked you for those digits.” Emma laughed at the phrasing, knowing that even if it felt ridiculous to her (as someone who never let her professional and personal lives intersect) for Ruby this was totally normal thinking.

“Seriously?” Ruby smirked.

“Just wait. Ten bucks says you get a call by the end of the night and then I get a week’s worth of groveling before I finally let him take me out.”

Emma knew better than to bet against Ruby on something like this, so instead of doing so she knocked on the door to the apartment of the woman who’d thought there was a fire in the first place. There was yelling going on through the doorway but it was too muffled to make out the words. It faded as soon as Emma’s knuckles rapped at the hard wood and seconds later the door opened to reveal a very small old woman. When she made eye contact with Emma and then Ruby her bothered expression immediately looked contrite and apologetic and her voice went up an octave into sweet old-lady territory.

“You must be the detectives. I can’t begin to tell ya how sorry I am. My grandson doesn’t mean to be a nitwit, he just hasn’t got a single brain cell in that thick skull of his.” The kindness she’d extended to Emma and Ruby shifted back to frustration as she turned around and shook her fist in his direction.

“A lot of men have that problem, ma’am. We just have to ask a few questions and make sure everything’s all clear for paper work and such. You understand,” Ruby offered.

“Oh honey, I do. I used to work at the state house as a clerk and I’ve always said that if there’s a God, there will be no paperwork past the pearly gates.”

Emma appreciated that the woman was so amiable to their questions. Sometimes they got saddled with problematic witnesses, but this woman was charming in that typical Boston way. She was brash and she said what she was thinking, but Emma knew deep down she had a good heart and loved her grandson. It was, as expected, a pretty routine false alarm, but as Ruby took notes on the situation, Emma asked to check out the fire escape itself. When she got the all clear to do so she moved to the window and shimmied it open before slipping outside and walking into an unexpected wall.

“Easy there, love.”

Oh shit! That voice was enough to make Emma a little week in the knees, and between the accent and the rumble in his chest that she was still flush against Emma felt this energy and simultaneous comfort she’d never experienced. It was… intriguing, and something she had a hard time moving away from but after a second Emma stepped back and her eyes flicked up to the man who’d uttered those three simple words. When her gaze met his her heart skipped almost painfully.

There were very few moments when Emma felt thrown in the line of duty or in life at all. She prided herself on being strong and stable, unshakeable even in the most trying of times, but right now she was anything but. Her heart was pounding, her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and her mind was racing a mile a minute, talking about how no man had a right to look this good and in a fireman’s outfit to boot.

With dark hair and more than the shadow of a beard, he wasn’t rugged per se, but manly and strong. She felt this kind of magnetic presence being so close to him but it wasn’t threatening to anything except maybe her self-control. She’d met a lot of good looking guys in her life, hell she’d been surrounded by cops and firefighters since she was a little kid, but there was something so different about this guy, this stranger with arresting blue eyes that held hers captive for just a beat too long.

“Apologies, love. I wasn’t expecting you.” Emma blinked and regained her composure, trying her best not to do something stupid like blush as she did.

“You’re new.” The man smiled, with one corner of his mouth tipping up to one side and he shuffled his gear around to extend his hand in greeting.

“Killian Jones at your service.”

Emma glanced at his hand and wondered if this guy was for real. Then she remembered that he was probably too new to realize who she was and why this was a no go. Once he did connect the dots he’d pull back she was sure, but for now Emma had this need she couldn’t quite explain. She wanted to go along with this feeling, even though it went against her M.O. entirely. So she gave him her hand in return and felt a rush of warmth when they made contact. She was shocked and a little overwhelmed, but it was clear that her new acquaintance was right there with her. Killian had no poker face at all, and she watched his wave of shock and then something like hunger before eventually pulling back and trying to put some of her professional walls back up.

“You realize sergeants don’t usually do this part right? No matter how new you are there’s got to be some low man on the ladder to hand this off to.”

Killian (God even his freaking name was hot) grinned and ran a hand through his hair, which was so dark and just a little too long to be strictly appropriate for the firehouse. Emma balled her fingers into a fist to stifle the crazy and ridiculous itch she had to see how it felt under her fingertips.

“Their set up wasn’t up to code. I thought I’d help them out so in case there’s ever an actual emergency, they can get out safely.” Emma looked over to where Killian gestured and saw that there were some newer bolts in the ladder now. She wondered how he’d even had the materials on hand to do this kind deed but decided to deflect from her being impressed at his caring.

“Hero complex?” Emma asked and Killian looked confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“Some guys get one in your line of work. They think they can save everyone and that they’re the only ones who can. They take on too much alone and it messes with their heads.”

Emma didn’t think Killian was that kind of guy (not that she could provide a real reason why past him not looking like a raging narcissist) but she wanted to see how he would handle her in interrogation mode. Most people cowered when she did this, but he stayed calm and didn’t flinch in the slightest. It was an incredible turn on.

“Well those men are fools. Some people can’t be saved… and some people don’t need to be. They’ve got it handled themselves.” Emma couldn’t help but think that last part was meant for her, but before she could ask him about his reasons behind the charged statement, Ruby appeared in the window.

“Emma if you fell down the fire escape I swear -,”

Ruby stopped short when she saw that Emma wasn’t alone and after half a second of surprise she started sporting a familiar grin. Emma tried to harden herself to Killian before it was too late but it was useless; Ruby knew something was up and that guaranteed her being a huge pain in Emma’s ass for a good long time. She was never going to live this down (because for years she’d been stressing no warm, fuzzy feelings on a case no mater what), and now her only hope was to bail and fast before Ruby caused a scene, or worse, flirted on Emma’s behalf.

“I’m all set here. You good Ruby?” Her friend looked from Killian who she was ogling openly to Emma and saw her seriousness. Thankfully Ruby took pity on her and nodded.

“All clear here.”

Ruby threw her one last smirk and then ducked back inside but as Emma turned to go she felt Killian’s hand at her wrist. It wasn’t a harsh hold in any way, and her body reveled in that same spark that had been there before, but she felt a wave of trepidation. Looking at him again was going to be fantastic and terrifying all at once. Still Emma had to be strong and so she faced him head on with what she hoped was a firm gaze.

“Did you need something?” she asked and Killian smiled softly at her. Instantly she felt bad for the edge she’d just had in her voice.

“Just to say thank you.” Emma’s brow furrowed.

“For what?” He let go of her hand and stepped backwards, heading towards the ladder of the fire escape with entirely too much swagger for a mortal, ordinary man.

“Usually a false alarm would be tedious. Today has been anything but.”

Emma ducked her chin in a bit, breaking eye contact and feeling like a freaking teenager under the intensity of his blue gaze. The worst part was he was being totally honest. Killian had game, yes, but he wasn’t a liar and that made the thrill that went through Emma so much harder to regret. There were sirens going off in her head saying that he was trouble and a threat to the way she had always conducted herself on the force, but the attraction between them was somehow stronger and this weird sense of trust was already there between them, muting her internal warning bells enough for her to try and say goodbye.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” She offered casually and he dropped all the cockiness to look at her sincerely.

“I hope so, Emma.”

Before she could make more of a fool out of herself, Emma moved back inside and shut the window, pausing when she did to catch her breath and get herself together. She let herself linger on the feelings that had fluttered through her chest when he said her name like that, and she wished that they could stay because it felt so right. Killian felt so right, but for what Emma couldn’t say, and it definitely was not the time to be having an internal dialogue about hot guys in the workplace. When she turned back around and saw Ruby with a shit-eating grin on her face she jumped, another very unusual thing for Emma.

“Don’t start.” Emma warned as they moved out of the apartment and back through the stairwell.

“I didn’t say anything!” Ruby offered with her hands up.

“You were going to.” Ruby laughed at Emma’s assessment.

“I am going to. I’m just going to wait until we’re not surrounded by dreamy guys who made you blush.” Emma turned to her friend and pointed a finger her way.

“I did not blush!”

“Oh honey, you so totally did. But shh, or Sergeant Sexy is going to hear you.” They were back outside moving to their car and there, just as Ruby expected, was Killian standing by his truck with some of the other guys from the firehouse. Their eyes caught again and he offered her a friendly wave that Emma returned as Ruby chuckled beside her.

“Ooo girl, you’re in trouble,” she whispered and Emma heard the niggling voice in the back of her mind saying that yeah, she very well might be.

……………

Every firehouse Killian had ever belonged to had a local spot – a pub or a bar that the crew frequented after a long shift or in times of celebration. Boston’s sixty-first was no different, but there was something to be said for this hole in the wall they called their home away from home.

It might not be pretty or particularly nice, but the feel inside of JR’s Tavern was perfect in Killian’s mind. There was that necessary combination of mutual respect between his firehouse mates and the rest of the clientele, but there was also a line drawn. Killian could already see that on their worst days (days that were always coming down the pike in this line of work) they’d find some sort of peace here. It wasn’t filled with nosey busy bodies, but people trying to go about their business. This was a welcome relief for Killian, who’d struggled with that in past assignments.

This new position, however, was bound to be different than all his ones before. For one thing he was a sergeant now, and that in itself was an adjustment. New expectations, new procedures, they were all factors in his blending in with a new squad, but Killian was a quick study and more than anything he had the experience both back in London and in New York where he’d been the last few years.

Killian also prided himself on staying up to date on the science in his job, jumping at the chance for any extra training and for any extra classes he could enroll in. The hope for all of that extra work was that he might someday learn something that could keep all the men and women he worked with alive. Every day they all got home safe was a win, and every day that they helped the people they were sworn to serve was one too. That didn’t mean he thought himself a hero, just a man with a code trying to better people’s lives when and how he could.

Killian couldn’t help but smile as the memory of that detective this afternoon bluntly asking him if he had a hero complex ran through his mind. She was a force of nature, and all it took was one second in her company for Killian to feel more alive than he had in years. Not even the rush of being amongst the lick of flames in a five-alarm blaze compared to the sensation he’d had out there on the fire escape, but she – Emma – was anything but predictable. Like an inferno with no clear source, she’d keep him guessing and clawing for answers, he was certain.

For one thing she was all together too beautiful for his sanity. She’d tried to tone it down slightly (no doubt in the hopes of appearing more professional and competent) but anyone who would doubt that woman after meeting her was a fool. She wore her abilities on her sleeve and practically radiated capability. Nothing escaped her notice in the moments that they’d been out there together, and though there were tiny glimpses of something more vulnerable between them, and even a few wondrous moments of could-be flirting, Emma was largely the dominating force between the pair of them.

Killian meanwhile stood there perilously close to openly gaping at her. He’d largely avoided any sort of emotional attachments as of late, hating the effects that the demands of his job had in any relationship. He’d seen the tolls it took on the men and women that his fellow fighters loved and their families and Killian reasoned there was no one he’d ever want to put through that. Still as he looked in those curious and brilliant jade colored eye’s of Emma’s and noticed the fullness of her lips and the silkiness of the hair she’d tied back, he found thoughts he’d long ago discarded rushing to the surface. Thoughts about staking a claim and convincing Emma that he was more than an adrenaline junky with a need to put out fires. For her, honestly, Killian could be anything she damn well wanted.

“Oi, Killian!”

Killian glanced up to see his old friend Will Scarlet, another member of the sixty-first and the man who’d put him up for the job here to begin with. He was a British expat too who’d already assimilated to this city after a few years on the force. Will was also the self-proclaimed funny man on the squad but Killian knew that underneath that excess of humor was a fiercely loyal and determined man. Will had fallen into this field because of personal tragedy, but he didn’t let it define him. He worked hard to live each day like it was his last, doing his best at work and then living each moment outside of that with the fullness it deserved.

“Aye?”

“You gonna say something? We can’t drink until you do, mate.” Killian noticed that the others on the squad were looking at him expectantly with their beers in hand. All of them had been incredibly welcoming so far and he grinned and cleared his throat not wanting to let them down.

“Right. Well I guess I’ll say thank you all for the drink and I doubt it will be the last you all buy me.” Everyone laughed at the jest and Killian sobered some to continue on. “Honestly I appreciate the openness you all have and your quickness to accept someone new like myself. It’s an honor to be among you, and I plan to prove my worth to you all before long. You all have my word that I will do my best by this house and this city. To sixty-one.”

“To sixty-one!” They all chorused back and took their drinks before letting out a cheer.

It was only about half of the house right now, for the others were on shift, but Killian had already made a pact with the bartender that a tab would be started in his name and that every fighter who wasn’t here tonight would still get a drink on him as his new buddies beside him would be getting one. It was customary back home, and felt only right to Killian to bring that tradition over here.

“Rough luck that all you got to see this week was routine drills and a false alarm,” one of the younger fighters on the ladder named Gus said and Killian shook his head offering a small smile and his own thoughts.

“Depends how you look at it. Might have been a false alarm but we all came back home.”

Gus nodded thoughtfully, and Killian knew the headspace that younger firefighters often had. They were hungry for the action, mostly because they’d yet to have any of the real trauma to could go with it. He didn’t fault Gus, however, and Killian honestly hoped Gus never lost that mentality, and that the younger man never lost a person in this job to take away that drive to fight fires every day.

“I’ll take a false alarm every hour of every damn day if we get cops like that responding. That Detective Lucas is something, huh?”

Will whistled in appreciation and then got a punch in the arm from one of the few women in the firehouse who everyone lovingly called Tink. She was small by any standard, but she was tough as nails and a fighter through and through. Killian had instantly taken a liking to her, and her silently but forcefully reprimanding Will for the comments now only solidified that more. Will winced and rubbed his arm after she made contact as Graham growled out a reply that was unexpected.

“In your dreams, Scarlet.” Killian wasn’t used to any sort of dark emotion from Graham. The lieutenant was kind and mostly quiet if a bit more serious than most of the others. This felt hostile though, but Will laughed all the same.

“No Graham, in yours. What are you waiting for on that anyway? You should have locked her down months ago when you had the chance.” Graham stared at his phone and blatantly ignored Will’s jest so Killian took the opportunity to divert attention for Graham’s sake and to get the information he himself had been wanting all day without seeming too suspicious.

“And what of her partner?”

“Oh you mean Emma?”  Killian nodded, trying to give off an air of not really caring even though he was desperate for more information on her. “She’s a looker for sure with brass balls to match and a stubborn streak that knows no end, but she’s off-limits.”

Killian raised a brow at Will’s words but everyone around seemed to agree with him. This was strange to Killian and he felt a need to know why anyone thought that was the case, because the idea of not pursuing Emma weighed on him like a ton of bricks. Then the worst-case scenario flashed into his mind:

“Is she married?” It hurt to even consider that possibility, and there had definitely been no ring on the lady’s finger today when he checked, though Killian knew of some cops who took them off in the line of duty. Firefighters did the same thing, though Killian couldn’t help thinking he wouldn’t want to if he’d finally married a woman he truly loved.

“Ha! That’s rich. No, mate, Emma Nolan is definitely not married. I doubt the woman’s ever dated given her parents. They’re not exactly the most accessible, easy to impress people.”

“Her parents?” Killian asked, confused. Why would a grown woman’s parents play into this in the slightest? And why did that last name sound slightly familiar?

“Yeah her parents. Her Mum’s the police superintendent and her Dad’s the district chief.” Fuck!

“Our district chief?” Killian asked after choking a bit on his beer and Will nodded.

“The very same.”

Bloody hell! Well that was a bit of a problem wasn’t it? Though Killian couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t enough to keep him from wanting her. With another woman he’d have taken the hit and walked away, but the idea of not seeing Emma again or feeling that same rush of warmth that came when he’d taken her hand today cut him to the core. He had never been the kind of man to cut and run when he felt strongly, and there was simply nothing that compared to meeting her today. He had to see her again.

“Before she was made detective people called her the princess. They said her parents were like some sort of Boston bureaucratic royalty and she was just their legacy getting preferential treatment.”

Graham offered the intel like it was nothing at all, but Killian’s fingers clenched around his glass, his anger rising. He hated the thought that Emma was judged for something she couldn’t help. Hell, he barely even knew the woman, but he knew in his heart she hadn’t deserved that kind of response from her peers. She was exceptional. Why couldn’t they see that?

“But something changed?” Killian asked, hoping for some resolution other than Emma’s being maligned unfairly.

“Yeah it did. Emma told every last asshole who said that shit where they could shove it, and then made detective at a younger age than any other person in her district. She’s kind of my hero,” Tink said jovially before waving the bartender over for another drink.

Killian grinned at that, knowing without doubt that Emma could handle herself. It bothered him that people had judged her, but it made him weirdly proud that she’d handled herself. Not that he had anything to do with it, but he liked knowing that Emma was strong enough to speak her mind and push back when other’s wanted to box her in. That wasn’t an easy feat for anyone, but it only proved to Killian what he already suspected – Emma Nolan was special.

“Well Tink, you can be sure to tell her all about it at that bloody gala we’ve all got next week. Remind me again why we’re going to that?” Graham snickered into his beer as Killian replied.

“Because it’s sixty-one’s turn to represent this year… and because there’s an open bar and decent food.” Will looked merrier already.

“Well I’ll drink to that!”

The crew laughed at the frivolity of Will’s wants and wishes, but the night passed pleasantly from there on out, and for Killian there was a new form of hope: because now he knew there was a moment coming when he’d see Emma again, and he had a few days yet to figure out exactly how to show her there was something between them worth exploring no matter what might stand in their way.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I want to thank my lovely readers who asked for this kind of story. It’s different then the other stuff I’m writing, which is always good for my muse. It will also likely be a little shorter than my typical stories, but I promise it will pack the usual smuffy goodness my others always aim for. Anyway let me know what you guys think and thank you all for reading!