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pendarling · 7 months

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Just Faking It

Hero fixed their hair again; the attire was uncomfortable, but the food tasted good. The jovial spirits of the other customers were found unmatched here in their booth, which felt tense and awkward. At least for Hero, they felt that way.

Villain seemed more relaxed than them.

Nothing was more annoying than being forced to attend a mission as a fake couple. It was humiliating to be seen like this; Hero had better things to do. Although they had to admit, Villain was… well… a little above average in terms of looks. Their personality could draw a crowd; something about having a flare bright enough to cause a disruption in town.

They've been trying to get their attention forever, but it just looked like they were too oblivious. It was always the stunning people with the worst sense of awareness. Sometimes, Villain did come off as selfish, but it wasn't anything Hero didn't expect; with Villain's head so focused on themselves, they should've known it would result in their lack of engagement for others. It's probably the core reason why they weren't interested in them.

They watched as the other right across them flagged down yet another server and insisted they pour their glass of wine again. Villain's face was already beginning to light up with drunken happiness. Personally, they didn't take Villain to be a wine person, yet here they were.

"You gonna eat?" They smiled lopsidedly while gesturing with their cup at their plate.

Hero let out a huff of disapproval and wrapped their arms around themselves. Under Villain's gaze, it was impossible not to feel like they were actively trying to intimidate them.

These clothes were so out of their usual style.

Hero looked around the dim-lit restaurant and tried to focus on the target, sitting just a few booths down. The damn CEO was why Villain and Hero were forced to investigate. Their only downside was Villain's lack of concern for the mission. Instead, they seemed to be distracted by the variety of desserts available.

"Can't you stop indulging and restrain yourself for a minute?" They harshly whispered while keeping track of the target.

"But I am restraining myself." Hero turned briefly to throw a questioning stare only to catch Villain's eyes travelling along their neck.

"Cut it out."

They hummed lowly and pushed the pasta around on their plate. "Whatever you say."

This dragged on too long, and Hero was ready to send the attack immediately. The CEO stood, leaving their damsels cooing as they finally walked toward the bathrooms.

"Now! "They whispered. Hero double-checked that their blade was secured on their hips and slipped out of their seat to discreetly follow the other. Villain coughed slightly as they tried to chug down the remaining wine and join their companion.

The booth the CEO was just in had been filled with all types of escorts hired by Hero's Agency to go undercover for this project. It was amazing how they all agreed, most admitting that the CEO was just another cash cow who loved to throw around their money in the hopes that their plans would come true. Hero opened the curtains and closed them right behind them just as Villain made it in.

"What're you two doing in here? We're not supposed to interact." The woman in the centre was a blonde worker. It wasn't a lie to say that she and her entire team were all equally stunning. It almost left Hero at a loss for words.

"Did you put the poison in?" Hero asked as they looked around the seat and table for the device tagged underneath.

Hero's hand grasped what they were looking for and pulled it out. "A bomb?!" Another woman spoke with her eyes flung open.

The secret worker jolted from her spot and inspected it. "How'd you see that?" It was a small portable device in Hero's hand. But easily recognizable. "The CEO's onto us?"

"Yes."

Villain sat beside the brunette on the red leather seat with an arm wrapped around her. "Relax, we'll handle this."

"I saw them plant it just before they left to go to the bathroom. Luckily, it isn't turned on." Hero pocketed the small device and glanced at Villain, now surrounded by the other workers. They couldn't believe they could be thinking about that at a time so constraining.

"Villain!" They moved over to the other side and glared down at them; Villain was still in high spirits from the rush of alcohol. "We need to go!"

"Just a minute…" They sighed before facing another woman who entertained the advancements, but it had gone beyond them. Hero scowled and moved out of the booth, fuming.

What was Villain thinking anyway? They would finish this project with or without them by the night's end.

The CEO's laughter was caught in the air as several footsteps made their way to the booth.

"Fuck!"

Villain sprang out of the chair and attempted to dash out, but the tall figure of their target blocked the way.

"Oh, hahaha," Hero nervously fidgeted. How could they let themselves get caught like this?

The centre worker stood from their seat and rushed over to the target's side, "These people were just about to leave. They were just asking a few questions."

"Were they?" CEO questioningly looked to the side; next to them were several of their personal bodyguards who stared down at the two. "And what questions were that?"

"About you, of course!" Hero chimed in, "We noticed that someone as powerful as you was attending this same restauraunt, we just wanted to know how we could admire you."

Villain nodded in agreement, "Yeah- there's nothing more profound than a strong figure like yourself here."

It seemed to work, and the blonde worker sighed with relief. The target's eyes lightened up at that, "Well, there's plenty of ways to show your respect for me, although I've never had anyone personally show such interest openly. "

"Well, I guess we should be on our way then. Don't want to waste your time." Villain grabbed Hero as they made their exit. It seemed they would be safe for now, but they've interacted with them; they needed to be more careful.

"Now, just hold on a second."

Hero felt their arm tugged back slightly. They paused in their tracks, and Villain looked behind them. The worker stood confused.

"We've only just met. Why don't we get a little accustomed to each other?"

Hero blinked idly at Villain with a questioning face. It looked like there would be a change of plans, "Well," Hero nervously began, "I would love to; however, you see, I'm already here with someone." They gestured to Villain.

"Please, I'm sure if you really had such great admiration, you wouldn't pass up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." They laughed as the guards pushed Villain out of the way, and Hero was locked tightly into the CEO's firm grip. From behind, they saw the escorts look at each other skeptically. "A pretty thing like you has better things to do anyways."

Hero faked a laugh, "You're really… too kind."

It infuriated Villain, not because the plans were ruined so quickly but because who did they think they were to take their date!? Who does that?! Villain forcibly pushed the standing guards and spoke louder, "Hey, jerk, that's my date you're stealing!" Their arms were pulled behind them.

The blonde escort placed a hand on Hero's shoulder, "Please, reconsider your decision, we don't have to take this kind guest with us."

They huffed at the escort's words, "Sit down, I'll make the decisions, you're just hired for my entertainment."

They couldn't hear Villain anymore; comforting hands from the escort told them to not look behind them and to follow through. "Of course, sorry for stepping out of line."

They couldn't believe it. Were they really going to end up as some kind of hostage? They knew Sidekick should've followed them in case something like this happened.

Another person in a suit pulled back the curtains, "Your ride has arrived."

"Excellent," They pulled out a cigar, and one of the guards lit it for them, "You'll come with me." Hero was pushed outside and into the cold night. Their eyes still searching for Villain. Hopefully, nothing bad happened with them. This was all so unfamiliar. They still had the dagger attached to their thigh, hidden away. Maybe they could find an opportunity to escape.

A dark car pulled into against the curb. Hero sat on the dark red leather chair, fabricating a contempt expression. They were flexible. They'd come up with something.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#writing prompt #enemies to lovers #cute prompts #fake dating #imagine your otp #pining prompts #villain x hero #hero x villain #writing #fake #scenarios #undercover #heroxvillain #villainxhero #unrequited romance #romance #unrequited pining #unreciprocated love

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lavenoon · 1 year

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What do you say, @zelda7999? <3

Just a little idea of how Eclipse could propose one day in New Horizons <3

#post let luce #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #fnaf eclipse #accidentally undercover #new horizons #zelda7999 #my art #hehe I told you I'd affectionately murder you #you're gonna wake up to this and I am not sorry #left the ending vague bc I want you to be able to imagine aaaallll your screaming into the reaction #go enjoy hehehe #got the full combo #your boy hands and a proposal <3 #eclipse lovers come get your juice #here's the boyyy

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psychicskulldamage · 2 years

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Sweethearts

based on this artwork by Joseph Bowler

#thank you to everyone who's been liking reblogging and leaving awesome amazing messages on my posts 😭😭#I really appreciate it 🥺#I almost posted this as sweathearts lmao #as I was drawing this I was thinking of Mickey being a spy and Ian being a hitman #They're long time enemies but eventually Ian is hired to work with Mickey #on an undercover project where they have to pretend to be a very in love married couple #enemies to friends to lovers AU :3 #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #shameless fanart #gallavich fanart #ian x mickey #my art #fanart #digital art

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comebackali · 3 months

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Undercover in a band?? I love this book.

#allie reads jedi quest #jedi quest #jedi quest the shadow trap #the shadow trap #star wars #pt #wizard #undercover #sw novels #otp: more intimate than lovers #obikin

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userfayne · 1 year

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as tradition (it only happened once) here are my favorite book couples i read/discovered in 2022 and live in my head rent free (no particular order)

naomi and nicholas - you deserve each other

liv and mack - undercover bromance

elena and vlad - isn’t it bromantic

rin and nezha - the poppy war

hannah and fox - hook line and sinker

kate and anthony - the viscount who loved me

charlie and nick - heartstopper

liz and wes - better than the movies

nora and charlie - book lovers

percy and sam - every summer after

grey and ethan - how to fake it in hollywood

rosalind and orion - foul lady fortune

celia and oliver - foul lady fortune

rowan and neil - today tonight tomorrow

florence and ben - the dead romantics

robin and ramy - babel

libby and nico - the atlas six

larynn and deacon - the co-op

emilie and nick - the do-over

mika and jamie - the very secret society of irregular witches

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another-miracle · 24 days

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the thing about hands (4/?)

When Hisame tells Obi of the plan, the first thing Obi wants to do is to laugh.

Because, conniving snake that he is, this is the best he could come up with?

Obi slides his gaze over to the wretched slime of a man, hoping to project just how incredulous his suggestion is. In turn, Hisame raises an infuriating eyebrow and smirks. Obi’s blood boils.

A scan across the ballroom; Little Ryuu, who, inexperienced as he is, has his hands clutching his little glass of punch for dear life; Shuu, smiling with daggers behind his glazed eyes; Miss Kiki, with one brow raised, mirroring her- ugh, really?- fiancé. The murmurs around them only increase in volume as Miss and Lord Eisetsu make their way to the gardens.

Obi realizes he does not have the luxury of time.

Plastering on a smile, he excuses himself with a short bow to Hisame. Passing on his wine glass to Little Ryuu, he ruffles his hair and shoots him what Obi hopes is a reassuring look.

Obi then makes his way toward what can only be his doom.

Approaching the pair, he begins to unbuckle the official cloak draped over his uniform blacks. From where he stands, Miss is stiff and evidently uncomfortable. Obi puts that at the forefront of his mind, instead of paying heed to his heart threatening to claw its way out of his chest.

“Young Miss,” he calls, schooling his face into something neutral- he hopes- and tries his best to appear nonchalant as he passes on the cloak over Miss’ shoulders. Obi thanks whatever deity there is out there that he has his gloves on. There is no need for him to be familiar in any way, with the softness of Miss’ skin around her collarbones.

Obi’s eyes shift towards Miss, silently confirming the plan. Obi’s right hand then tightens, ever so slightly, around her upper arm. He steps into her space, directs his face towards hers, and begins the count.

Miss’ frame is slight, or perhaps Obi is just larger now. He remembers her weight slumped on him when she was drunk, what seems like a millenia ago. How different she was- they both were- back then.

Her breath passes over his neck, warm and short. As if realizing this, Miss clamps her mouth shut, a blush forming on her cheeks. Obi’s fingers twitch around the cloth, entrapping them further.

Miss gazes up at him, her eyes shifting left and right. Obi wants to tell her to look at his nose, or the space between his eyebrows - an amateur move, really. But he finds the way the firelight reflects off her eyes, revealing a different shade of green with every movement, entrancing. He catalogues each one in his mind.

At this distance, Obi can see the light freckles splashed across Miss’ nose, a testament to the much-needed sunlight she’s been exposed to ever since leaving Lilias. His chest hurts from the need to kiss every single one.

Miss breathes, and her chest expands, contracts, brushes against the hand Obi perches politely over his cloak. Obi tries to avoid combusting on the spot.

A breeze unlatches a lock of hair from behind Miss’ ear. Again, Obi locks his fingers further into the cloak, willing ice into his veins to keep up the facade of a man colder than he currently is. Instead, he burns.

Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips. Obi’s gaze flickers down, snaps back up, refusing to pay any heed to that any more than necessary.

This is torture of the highest order, he thinks.

-this is something I want every day of my life.

10.

Obi closes his eyes, tattooing Miss’ face behind his eyelids. He smiles, releases his hand from its supposed death grip around Miss’ arm. The traitor hovers around Miss’ back, though, as Miss thanks him and he bids his regards to Lord Eisetsu.

As the pair walk away, Obi holds his arms behind his back, fingers digging into his sleeves. He releases a breath, and wills the pounding his ears to stop.

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, startling him. Obi turns. Miss Kiki’s face is unreadable as she returns her hand to her side. Little Ryuu comes up next to him and passes back his wine glass. Obi accepts it, takes a large swig from it, and exhales once more.

His fingers continue to twitch around the stem of the cup, Miss’ warmth a phantom ghost searing the skin beneath his gloves.

#obiyukimadness24 #undercover as lovers #obiyuki #yixin's fic #LOOK #THIS WAS THE BEST I COULD DO IN AN HOUR

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whatsomalfoy · 2 months

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I may have forgotten to let you know that Staring Without Seeing finally updated a few weeks ago with chapter 17, but fear not, because I haven’t forgotten this time!

Chapter 18 has just gone live and I’m super excited to share this one with you. The plot is really starting to thicken now and it won’t be long until things ✨heat✨ up.

In the meantime, you can find chapter 18 on AO3 here.

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kirayaykimura · 18 days

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a day late and a keycard short

Obi had the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen on his arm, unfortunately.

He was supposed to have a tall blonde in a distractingly low-cut gown as his date to the tedious silent auction he found himself trapped in for the evening. She would get their mark, Mr. Ernst Blofeld, for the evening to strike up a conversation with her using this eye contact trick she developed years ago (that only worked about forty percent of the time), float the idea that she and Obi were very open to a more private party, would he like to show them his hotel room?, and then drug him to the gills, steal the weapons he was about to sell, intercept the buyer later, and vanish into the night. Instead, his date was a short red-head in a collared gown and heels she clearly wasn’t confident walking in. The opposite of Blofeld’s type. The way his eyes traveled down her body and away without a second glance confirmed it. This would be-

“Oh, dear. I am so sorry!” Shirayuki said to Blofeld. Who she just stumbled into.

-challenging.

“You would do well to better control your woman,” Blofeld said to Obi, ignoring Shirayuki’s apology completely.

And the old money flaunted its old-fashioned politics as well. Charming.

Blofeld’s look of distaste morphed into a pained grimace when Shirayuki accidentally drove her stiletto into his toes. With soft leather like that, she was bound to leave a mark.

“Forgive me, I must have had one too many drinks tonight,” Shirayuki said. Yuzuri would’ve sold the clumsy drunk act better, but Shirayuki’s lack of commitment to the bit by not even attempting to slur her words was funnier.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Obi said. Maybe, if Obi was lucky, he might be able to strike up a conversation with Blofeld later without the woman who had bodily harmed him twice and get a different plan rolling. Otherwise he’d have to get creative, and no one liked when he got creative in the field.

Obi led her out of the hotel ballroom and towards the elevators across the lobby with a hand on the small of her back. If anyone asked, he would say he was only thinking about alternative plans to secure the drug later. He simply didn’t have the brain space to note the way the lace of her dress felt beneath the tips of his fingers or the heat of her body through the cloth. That would also be weird to note about a coworker so he absolutely did not do that, stop asking.

He was so distracted, both thinking and not thinking, that he nearly stumbled over his own feet when Shirayuki pulled him into a corner of the area in front of the elevators. She was lucky he was naturally graceful, otherwise she’d be smushed against the wall right about now.

Obi raised an eyebrow to silently ask what she was trying to do. Shirayuki pointed at the ceiling and mouthed, Dead spot.

No cameras. Got it.

Then, she slipped a key card out of her sleeve and flashed it at him triumphantly.

“Damn, sticky fingers. Impressive,” Obi whispered, catching on to the fact that she had clearly pickpocketed Blofeld during her run-in.

“I gave him mine, so that should buy us some time,” she whispered.

He wouldn’t notice it was missing, and wouldn’t be able to burst in on them rummaging through his room with the key he did have. Not a bad plan at all. One day he’d stop being impressed by Shirayuki, maybe, but not today.

“Let’s do it,” Obi said.

#undercover as lovers #obiyuki #obiyukimadness24 #listen. have i done nearly exactly this same plot with yuzuri dropping out of being obi's fake girlfriend and making shirayuki stand in?#yes #i refuse to apologize for who i am #and who i am is unoriginal #my fic

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eridanidreams · 2 months

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Fiction Friday!

This has been a fucked-up week for me; I missed WIP Wednesday (well, actually I posted a new kiss-related chapter of my Starfield fic instead), but I had intended to do more for ockissweek24.

And in honor of the Deus Ex prequels--YES, Eidos, I will keep talking about it--(and a hearty screw you to Embracer group), I give you this snippet from Odysseus Gambit...

Context: Adam and Sloane are undercover in an augmented MMA death-match competition; their cover is that of long-time partners... and lovers, and Adam has just rather dramatically won a tag-team fight after Sloane went down under an EMP...

Adam stood in the middle of the ring for a long moment, his opponent unconscious at his feet, blood oozing down his face, breath hurling itself into and out of his lungs in harsh gasps, the crowd’s ecstatic screams mingling with the adrenaline pounding through his veins to leave him light-headed. Another breath. Another. Sloane— she was struggling to pick herself back up, arms and legs still refusing to work quite right after the EMP; at the sight, something broke inside of him. Without thinking, he strode forward, reaching down to pull her to her feet; either she was taken by surprise or he was more forceful than he’d meant, because she lurched forward, off-balance and awkward with it. He caught her instinctively, wrapping his arm around her waist to brace her. She stared up at him, eyes wide, looking as dizzy and shocked as he felt, that ridiculous pink ponytail streaming down her back, her chest heaving against his. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Pure need roared up inside him. Couldn’t fight it. Didn’t think he wanted to. Even the annoying voice in the back of his brain was silent for once.

Adam’s mouth closed on Sloane’s with the desperation of a drowning man who’d just found air. There was nothing gentle about it—he breathed in her gasp, his fingers sliding up her spine to entangle themselves in her hair, half-caress, half-restraint. It was good, so good—and when, after a moment of surprised stillness, she threw herself into it, it went from good to fucking amazing. Her mouth was alive under him, tongue dueling with his, teeth nipping at his lips, his beard. Her hand wrapped around the nape of his neck to hold him at least as fiercely as he was holding her. The other wandered down his back to clamp on his ass, pulling him hard against her. Her body molded itself to his, the bare skin of her stomach scorching through his torn t-shirt. She tasted like blood and sweat and hot, ferocious woman, and all he could think of was drawing this out as long as he possibly could, all too aware that the moment that had allowed it might never come again. He wanted to devour her, to brand her touch into his skin, her taste onto his tongue; to drown out the screams in his head with the sound of her pleasure, to drown out the screams in hers with his voice crying out her name. Wanted to shatter her armor of winter stone, to fuel her hidden fire with his breath on her skin.

Distantly, he could hear the referee’s voice over the gleeful cheers of the crowd. “The princess and the monster, the beauty and the beast! The winners, Tatiana Zhernakova and Dominic Bishop!”

The world oozed in around them, along with the reminder that here and now, they weren’t—couldn’t be—Adam Jensen and Sloane Delacourt. Here and now, they were Dominic and Tatiana, fighting partners and… Adam suppressed a groan… off-again, on-again lovers, and he’d just proclaimed to the crowd that they were ‘on’ again.

Sloane was going to kill him.

Adam broke the kiss off, taking a bare moment to appreciate the sight: Sloane, cheeks rosy with arousal, lips reddened and kiss-swollen, eyes flashing mingled anger and desire intermixed. Didn’t need a CASIE to see that every line of her body was screaming that she wanted more—and she could damn well feel him pressed hard and hot into her and know the same was true for him. Belatedly, he realized the ref was addressing him. “Dominic… your fans—” fuck, they had fans? “—are thrilled with your victory, but I think they’re even more excited about that kiss. Anything you want to tell them?”

Adam—Dominic—cleared his throat. “I’d say,” he said, in the smooth, slightly higher voice he’d adopted for Dom, “that’s for me to know and them to imagine.” Sloane—Tatiana—had folded her arms across her chest and was scowling out at the crowd, which only inspired them to more enthusiastic heights. He put on a cheerful smirk, adding, “A gentleman never tells a lady’s secrets.”

“You’re no gentleman!” someone shouted, to scattered laughter. “Tati likes bad boys!” came another comment. And a third, “She’s no lady!”

Adam didn’t know if the flush on her face was still from the kiss, or anger at the way he’d inadvertently put her on the spot, or just plain embarrassment, but he’d never admired Sloane more than he did right in that moment when she pulled on the mask of Tatiana and gave the crowd a sultry smile. “Nyet,” she said, planting a fist on one out-thrust hip, “I like bad men.” She shot Adam a look from beneath lowered eyelashes, eyeing him up and down, and fuck he wanted to throw her up against the nearest wall. Or floor. Or whatever would goddamned hold them while they screwed each other senseless. “Perhaps we should… discuss,” she added, toying with the ponytail. “In… private.”

The ref addressed her next. “Didn’t you say earlier you wanted to fight without distractions?”

Tatiana gave a throaty laugh. “Darling,” she flicked him playfully with her ponytail, “if he can kiss like that after that fight? Then he can probably still fight after what I have planned for him.” Adam damn well knew what she had planned wasn’t what she was implying, but try to tell his dick that. “But first,” she nudged the unconscious Kaczka, “a bath to wash the stink off.” She gave Tatiana’s trademark twirl, ending with her elbow bent just in the right place for him to take it.

“You heard it from her,” Adam managed to say, taking her arm on cue and giving the crowd a two-fingered little wave of acknowledgment. A bath? No. Even that little bit of touch was sending everything into overdrive. He needed a cold shower. Two of them. Or—not a cold shower. A hot shower. With her. Hands, slipping on each other, the water somehow cool against the fevered heat of their bodies—

The elevator doors closed between them and the rest of the world.

#adam jensen #fanfic #deus ex mankind divided #eridani writes #forced proximity #slow burn #idiots to lovers #odysseus gambit #deus ex #undercover as a couple #the coemancer crew #deus ex fanfic #sloane delacourt

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morgansunflower · 8 months

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My London Lover 1/2

Bruce Wayne X Reader

Warnings:gun violence, suggestive content, murder, violence, explicit language and angst

Words:1658

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V. Part 1&2 listed in tags!

Alfred receives a letter that shakes him to his core as an old enemy has returned to hurt her.

Alfred sorted through the mail junk..Junk.. Not junk. His blood pressure nearly made him curse. One was written by her. He hasn't seen the young girl since she visited for Christmas. She usually would call him. He wondered why she wrote to him? He worried it was out of fear someone may be listening in on her phone calls

He quickly departs to the study for privacy. Alfred couldn't waist time sitting. He takes a deep breath as he opens the letter impatiently.

~Dear Uncle Alfred.

I wish my letter was to tell you I am well. However I do not have good news to write of. Some odd things have been happening. Just the other day... I know I was being followed by a black motorcycle. The drivers face was of course concealed by his helmet and the tag was removed. Then the next morning I received some unfriendly letters with blood from a bird. An old enemy of yours I fear. Some nights I feel as though I'm being watched through my window. I was attacked this night but don't fret I'm ok. Just a bullet that grazed me. I fear you're the only one I can trust. Please hurry.. I don't wish to be buried.

Love your niece Y/N~

Alfred's heart sinks. He quickly pushed the button in his closet to show his old trusted uniform. He remembers the night he met her so vividly.

Alfred was only twenty. Thomas Wayne had visited London for business. After Thomas accidentally became witness to a assassination and had gained evidence of the occurrence. Things became more grim.

He hired the young Bodyguard. Alfred's well known reputation in London had made him trustworthy among those who needed protection and a target from those who wished to harm the ones he protected. The criminal gangs of London were relentless. Especially to those who had money.

Somehow as Alfred was trying to get Thomas out of London back to US soil he found a abandoned infant girl. She had been left in the cold. The two men had stumbled upon her whilst trying to evade gunfire.

Thomas feared for his baby boy and his wife once he returned to Gotham. He wrote to the only Bodyguard he ever felt he could truly trust offering him a heap of money. Alfred struggled to let the baby girl out of his arms and into the arms of another. Though he trusted these people.

Alfred leaves the plane. Keeping a low profile he made his way to her apartment. He knocks twice paused and then 4 times. The door locks become unlocked one by one. Y/N opens the door to see him. She quickly let's him in and locks the door-locks one by one.

"were you followed? R-Right forgot.. Sorry I'm so.. I.. I'm ok as you can see. Thank you so much for coming. I know it seems like I may overreacting a, bit"

"not in the slightest" he replied

Alfred puts his hat and coat on the coat rack. He approached the window looking outward down the to the sidewalk. He saw no one.. Alfred turned to see the young woman nervously folding her arms with her face clenched looking at the ground

"alright enough lettin' your thoughts fester into madness. It's not a nice look for my lass"

"I missed you" she sincerely said, she had indeed ever since her mother died 5 years ago and father died when she was 3... Alfred was her Savior. In her heart he was indeed her father.

"and I you Lass. Would you care for some tea? Then you can tell me all of about the trouble you've been having"

As the two enjoyed their tea. She explained in detail showing Alfred the letter, the pictures she took.. He knew his old enemy was behind this...

That following day Y/N and Alfred drove to interpol. The former bodyguard hoped his past life would encourage interpol to give him the evidence he needs.

He glances to the side mirror seeing the car behind him with blackened windows. He speeds further to avoid the second car about to pull out from the side. Y/N remained still and silent recognizing what was happening.

The other car began to follow them right behind the other car. Alfred took a sharp turn to the right. The two cars follow suit. Alfred notices the bat-plane above. Of course he's here.

Alfred speeded faster changing to a faster gear. He skid the car around speeding between the two vehicles. The two cars quickly tried to follow. Alfred tried to go faster but unfortunately the cars were faster than his. One hits the rear of their car causing Y/N and Alfred to lightly jolt from the blow.

One driver takes his machine gun to shoot at them. Batman lands onto the car jerking the gun away from the assailant. He then leaned on the side of the car and punches him. The passenger reaches for his pistol but Batman quickly threw his batarang to his wrist. Batman takes the wheel making it swerve out onto dirt.

Alfred was forced down a abandoned dirt rode that ended to the side of a cliff... The driver was looking for them. Alfred then came up with a plan

.....

Bruce rushes to find them, only to see the car they were in pushed over the cliff by the driver. Terror came to his face.

"No!!"

He ran denying the inevitable that no one could survive that.

Bruce runs looking down the cliff to the car that was beyond destroyed. He uses his spy-contacts to zoom in on the wreck... They weren't there.

Batman sees the driver escaping. As he gets to the drivers side he gripped onto the side of the car. He breaks the window pulling the driver out and threw him to the ground. He gripped his collar.

"who do you work for?!" he yells at him but stopped seeing the foam seep through his mouth

He was gone.

Y/N and Alfred had escaped the vehicle and used it as a decoy to trick the driver. Alfred and Y/N start a fire. Why was Batman here? She wondered.

"what the hell is going on?!" Batman asked approaching the two.

"I told you I was to be home by the end of the week. I'm only a day late" Alfred defended

"you are avoiding my question!" Bruce shouts

"Bruce?!" Y/N shouted taken aback realizing quickly by not only the similar built in structure that she constantly thought about.. But the obvious worry for Alfred. She didn't have to question his worry for her.

Batman takes his cowl off "I need answers Alfred with or without your help"

Alfred looked down gently sighing "you both deserve the truth... It was over 20 years ago. Your father came to London for business. He had seen somethin' he shouldn't have... Shortly thereafter he hired me for protection. It was during that time" he looks to Y/N "I stumbled upon a baby left all alone... I was not fit to be a parent"

"all this time I knew I was adopted but I didn't.. They never told me" Y/N was speechless now knowing how much Alfred had done for her.

"it was for your protection but unfortunately I did not do a fit enough job. You're no longer safe and that is my bloody fault.." Alfred scolded himself. He should have been more thorough

"when my father came to Gotham?.." Bruce asked

"he feared for your mother and you. I was offered payment and I left the life I knew"

"what did he see?" Bruce asked

Alfred takes a deep breath "London crime gang, known as Aves. They originated after the second war. Money laundering, con-men... Then overtime they became ruthless. More hungry for power, more money... There was never enough evidence until your father was able to identify one of the masked gang members, he had photographic evidence of murder. Taking place on a, revenge kill... It was shortly after that I was hired. I managed to get a confession and with the evidence your father provided it was enough. As far as I knew all those accused were rightly behind bars... But now I fear somehow their leader, has escaped and has formed a new gang.. He knows of dear Ms Y/N and is trying to hurt her, to hurt me... "

"why didn't you tell me?" Bruce asked bitterly

"I was trying to leave the past behind me and honoring your father's wishes to never speak of the incident"

As the three fell asleep two awaken as one was gone. Bruce and Y/N tried desperately to find Alfred.

The hood is lifted from Alfred's head. He feels his hands restrained to the back of the chair he sat on. He was inside the mansion of the former mafia bosses home. He knew Carmine well enough to know he killed the new owners to regain his fortress.

"Carmine Falcone" Alfred bitterly greeted

"Alfred Pennyworth.. So nice of you to join.. Over two decades. I spent day and night, imagining the suffering I would cause you"

"seems a little bit extreme, don't you think?"

Carmine clenched his fist taking out his pistol and cocked the hammer. He placed the barrel of the gun into Alfred's mouth. Though Alfred's expression remained unmoved.

"so tempting to end you right here, right now" he takes the gun out "but before I do I would so love to see you suffer.."

Two men bring the young boy in. Alfred's expression did change but only to anger. What was he doing here?! He's in so much bloody trouble.

"I'm fine Alfred. I have this under contr--" Jason stammered as a punch came to his gut

"this little pest belong to you?" Carmine asked gripping Jason's face

He is damn well going to be grounded...

Requested taglist@too-strong-to-lose @asrainterstellar

#Batmom #batmom x batman #Batfamily #Love confession #Jason Todd is Robin #writing letters #Love #falling in love #Dancing #Undercover #Reader is Alfred's goddaughter #Badass Alfred Pennyworth #London #Love in London #Bruce Wayne X Reader(My London Lover 1&2)

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clarkgriffon · 2 years

Photo

ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGE - [2/3] Undercover as Lovers Situations ↳ “Chuck, I can’t take this. This is something real. Something that you should give to a real girlfriend.” “I know.”

#chuckedit #chuck #chuck bartowski #sarah walker #chuck nbc #chuck x sarah #creations #ultimate ships challenge #i mean you can't get more undercover as lovers than chuck #it's literally the conceit of the show

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sabraeal · 18 days

Text

Minimum Distance, Chapter 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2024, Championship: Undercover as Lovers

Feathers might settle on silk, but Obi’s heart is still taking flight, pounding in triple time as Doc takes her eyes off him, tipping back her chin to show off the spray of freckles beneath her jaw, right where the most delicate part of her skin stretches to cover her pulse. There’s a part of him that knows he should be worried about the man at the door, that he should already be composing a plan to get not only her but Ryuu out of this house, global lockdown or not, but—

But there’s another, louder part that sees an invitation. That got the fucking Save-the-Date from Doc anteing up that whole dance across the carpet and has some real opinions about just how well her skin would hold a mark. Who is really stumping for him to test some hypotheses about how freckles taste.

Telling it to shut up isn’t hard. Just another Tuesday here in paradise.

“Well…” Her neck stretches just a fit further, straining the limits of her voice, but she finally gets the door in her sight. Takes a minute one she’s got it to worry at her lip, leaving the barest, babiest dints behind, the kind he’d love to feel against his— “I guess I should go get that.”

Obi sits back on his knees, staring. She’s real confident for a girl who wanted to switch rooms one shower ago. “Doc, shouldn’t you— hngh?”

She wriggles, hips not just worming but also squirming right beneath him, and it’s doing something both wonderful and terrible to the wiring up and his brain. Real light show right where his lizard ancestors party down.

Doesn’t mean he was born her bodyguard yesterday though. Grandpa Gator might be personally projecting the world’s sexiest powerpoint presentation, but Obi’s already shifting, one of his thighs catching under hers, trapping it up between his knee and elbow. Gets her wrists for good measure too, both of them bound up in one hand, ignoring her surprised little whine when he pins them to the mattress.

That’s Bodyguarding 101 when it comes to Doc: can’t trust any of those little interested noises when he’s got his hands on her. Her interest in manhandling is purely academic; with only two geriatrics to keep an eye on her as a kid, anything more physical than a side hug registers as a novel experience. A real Only Child Problem.

Imagine that, being the only kid in the house. Absolutely buckwild.

“Wasn’t the whole point of swapping rooms so that you wouldn’t be getting any midnight rendezvous from that creep?” he growls, frustration itching just beneath his skin, deep enough he can’t scratch.

“Well, yes,” she allows, back flat against the mattress. She couldn’t be more thoroughly bed-bound if he tied her to it— which, god, he should really not be thinking about right now. Not when he’s got his knee between her legs and all that’s between him and skin is some skimpy teddy. It’s got the same sort of effect on him as a whole bottle of tequila: absolutely devastating for the parts of his brain involving high function, excellent for his circulatory health. “But there’s no problem now, if you’re here.”

There’s actually a bunch of problems— most of which start and end with his body’s sudden interest in showing off what sort of improvements this new three mile jog habit has made on his dick game— but there’s still the overhanging stuck in this dude’s smart house for the foreseeable future and we don’t know what his long game is. Short game, though, seems pretty fucking clear.

“Doc,” he hisses, leaning close enough everything but her eyes blurs, like that guy who painted haystacks for a living. “That doesn’t mean he won’t try to—”

“Um, hello?” There’s another knock, more insistent this time, and god, this guy might be some…pharmaceutical savant or whatever, but it doesn’t seem like anyone ever bothered to teach him how to read a damn room. “Are you there, or…?”

Doc’s mouth thins, her jaw getting that stubborn set it does when she’s about to haul off and jump out a window, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t even squirm under him, just lays there, staring up at the ceiling, brow all furrowed and—

And that’s why he doesn’t even see the pillow coming. He barely has time to register she’s slipped a wrist free— right through the gap between his thumb and fingers, the minx— before a pound of down feathers takes him right out. He keeps his grip, fingers locked around the only wrist he’s got left, but all his air being replaced with eiderdown doesn’t do much for his stability— a fact Doc’s all too ready to exploit, using their momentum to put him right on his back.

Damn. Probably should have seen it coming. Taught her that one himself right after that whole clusterfuck with Umihebi, along with a few of the less brutal takedowns in his repertoire.

Instead he’s left breathless, trying to win a wrestling match with the pillow over his windpipe— a fight he could win, if she wasn’t clambering down him the whole time, rubbing bits of her over parts of him primed to pay attention. A solid toss knocks the thing back— right in time to catch a flash of strawberry-print cotton as she dismounts, scurrying toward the door.

It shouldn’t do anything. Not when he could write his own dissertation on the classification of every shade and shape of bush. But apparently his dick hasn’t gotten the memo on that one, stretching both his credulity and his waistband before he slams the pillow over his crotch, adding a new shade of blue to his vocabulary.

By the time he’s got any mind to stop her, Doc’s already peeking her head through the door, telling number twelve of the Forbes Fifty Under Fifty, “Excuse me…it’s really late?”

“O-oh, Shirayuki. Yes, of course. It is late. Very late. It’s just, you see…” From this angle he can’t see the guy’s face, just the nervous fluttering of his hands, like two drunk birds trying to fuck their way out of chimney. “I think there may be some…misunderstanding? Are you, er…?”

Alone, that’s what this asshole is trying to say. Because that’s how he wants her: vulnerable. How all these rich jackasses seem to think she should be. And here he is, trapped on this bed as thoroughly as if Doc were holding him down, debating whether she’s in enough trouble to saunter up and risk showing off just what sort of heat he’s packing.

He stifles a groan. This is how it’s always gonna be, isn’t it? Finding some new way to live his life on the edge, no matter how cushy the gig is; as strung out on her as anything that came in a little plastic baggy.

“Am I…?” Doc leans out the door, her weight shifted over her feet-- the perfect way to be snatched off them-- and that’s enough to get him off the bed.

Big Pharma’s prodigal son had seen fit to provide every room with one of those cushy bathrobes, even nicer than the ones he steals from every hotel where the Big Boss sets them up, each one monogrammed with their initials in the nicest, curliest cursive. Obi doesn’t know just how this guy decided which of his aliases to use, but he’s glad to have something on hand that might do a better job of obscuring what gray cotton won’t.

There’s not enough time for him to be strategic about it— he just strings it across his shoulders and knots the belt over his waist, hoping velvet is heavy enough for even his circulatory system to struggle against. By the glance Rugilia gives him when he leans behind Doc in the doorway, all casual menace, before his eyes drop straight to his crotch—

It isn’t. But that guy still looks away first, flushed right past the collar of his stupid robe, so at least his dick’s overactive imagination has gone and paid off for once. Oh boy, just wait until Kiki hears about this one. Princess would put that shit right in the company newsletter.

“Want to explain what you’re doing here?” Obi hardly needs to fake the gravel in his voice. Doc might not have ridden him hard or put him away wet or anything, but it’s the closest he’s come in almost three years. “Standing around Doc’s door at the witching hour?”

“B-but��” Obi’s got a healthy dose of skepticism when it comes to these people with more zeroes in their bank account than brain cells in their head, but when Rugilia’s eyes widen, jaw going so slack he can see all the way back to his tonsils— well, he’s gotta say, it’s convincing. “But it’s supposed to be your room.”

Now it’s Doc’s turn to stare at him, and, well, that throws are few things about this night into perspective. Damn, too bad Master’s not still hanging around in the closet— he could use a reminder that Obi’s still a hot commodity. “So, you’re here for me?”

It’s flattering, even if this stick figure isn’t his type. Certainly the most aggressive come-on he’s had in a while. He might even think about it, if he wasn’t on the job. Sometimes a boy likes to be chased, after all.

“N-no, wait, that’s— that’s not what I meant.” Rugilia might be huffing and puffing now, glaring at the both of them like it’s their fault they found him caterwauling outside their door like a hard-up tom, but Obi doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep drifting south of his equator. “Oh, honestly, if you two want to— to! You could have just said you wanted a room together.”

Doc clears her throat, guilty. “We were, um…trying to, ah…be discreet?”

“Discreet? Whatever for?” He crosses his arms, flushed. “At least then I would have known to check the cameras before I came down to—”

“Cameras?” Obi asks, but it’s too late, Doc’s already barreling ahead with, “We haven’t told the company we’re dating!”

Rugilia blinks, eyebrows bumping blindly over his nose. “Do your departments really work closely enough that you have to?”

Doc’s looking at him, like he’s got his finger on the pulse of these fraternization regs for some reason, but he’s still stuck on— this guy really thinks he’s a lawyer. This guy looks at the scar cutting across his naked chest and the other riding high by his hairline and sees four year college. Sees another three years post-grad at least, internships, sees passing the goddamn bar—

“Anyway, I wasn’t coming here to be a…er…pest,” Rugilia continues, suddenly as confident in his bathrobe as he would be in a three-piece suit. “I had a favor to ask.”

Right, this guy came here for a reason. Even if it wasn’t to take advantage of the California King situation past this door, this guy is up to something. Something that involves Doc. “Listen, Doctor Lyon doesn’t—”

“Oh, ha! I didn’t mean Shirayuki!” Rugilia waves his hand, utterly disarming— until he fixes his stare on Obi. “I’m here for you, Mr Won.”

Well, he didn’t have that on his eccentric billionaire bingo card tonight. “Uh.” He steps back, making space. “Then come in, I guess.”

#obiyukimadness24 #undercover as lovers #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #minimum distance #modern au #ans #listen once i realized there was no way to tell this fic from the beginning i really though i would never come back #but here i am #adding to obi's suffering #maybe one day i will get to write the kiss he can't forget about #OR MAYBE NOT #but i love his voice in this fic and i'm glad i got the chance to write it again 🤣

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