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tartagliove · 4 years ago

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I Spy Love ✧ Takami Keigo

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader ✧ 9.9k words

Synopsis ✧ You’ve never gotten along with Keigo. He makes it his job to get under your skin, and the competition you have with him at work doesn’t help either. But when you get assigned on a mission together, you may find that there’s more to your fellow agent than just jokes, pranks, and sarcasm.

Tags and Warnings ✧ Spy au, action romcom vibes, rivals to lovers, fake marriage, cursing, mentions of alcohol, violence, fluff, happy ending.

Note ✧ This is written as part of bnharem’s workplace collab! It was a lot of fun, and I especially enjoyed sprinting with my fellow writers. Check out their amazing works here. A huge thank you to @cellotonin @ererokii @meliorist-midoriya for being my wonderful beta readers, I love you three so much!!

–

Takami "Hawks" Keigo is one of the worst agents you've ever had the non-privilege of working with. He's at least competent, thank goodness, otherwise he'd be at the complete bottom of your list. But he has a talent for getting under your skin like no other.

And surprise, surprise, that's exactly what he's doing now.

Keigo walks into the room, a manilla folder in his hands. You look up briefly at the movement, and are about to return to your work, when his eyes lock onto yours and a smug smile spreads across his face. You groan, eyes rolling. Looks like you won’t be getting work done anytime soon.

“What do you want, Takami?” you ask, frowning as he approaches your desk.

“Nothing,” he replies, voice light, “except to show you this.” He slaps the folder onto your desk, and leans in toward you, pointing a finger down at the folder. “Mission accomplished.”

You raise a brow. “Congrats. You’ve done exactly what you’re paid to do.”

“Sure, sure.” He snickers, unaffected by the disinterest in your tone. He walks toward one of the whiteboards mounted on the wall, picking up a bright red marker and uncapping it. “The best part about completing my mission is…” he pauses to erase a 72 on the board and write in a 73. The marker squeaks as it rubs across the white surface, and you have to hold yourself back from wincing.

“The best part is, I’m in the lead. Seventy-three to seventy-two, looks like you’re slacking off this year! And there’s not much time left, let’s see how you plan on beating me now. C’mon, why don’t you save yourself the trouble and admit defeat already, hm?” His golden eyes are bright, trained on you to catch the slightest change in expression.

But he doesn’t receive the glare he usually gets from you. Instead, an equally smug smile curls your lips as an alert pops onto your computer screen.

“Excuse me,” you say, getting up from your desk. “I have to meet with the Director now. After all–” You raise a hand, fingers pinching a manilla folder. “–I have to file this completed mission.”

Satisfaction fills you as the smile on Keigo’s face turns into a look of sheer astonishment. You walk past him, pausing to pat him lightly on the chest. “Since you’re at the board, why don’t you help change my score? I appreciate it, little birdie.”

All he can do is watch as you strut away, the manilla folder taunting him from within your grasp.

“Ooh, Keigo,” Usagiyama Rumi calls from her desk, having paused in her work to watch the exchange. “I think you’ll need some ice for those burns!”

Keigo flushes and growls, wiping away the 72 on your side of the scoreboard and writing in a 73. “Nobody asked, Rumi.”

–

Both of you spend the next few days filing paperwork for the cases you completed this past year. There’s no shortage of snarky comments in the office, and your other coworkers sit back to enjoy the free entertainment.

One afternoon, you get an email from the Director to go to her office. You brighten up, knowing that this likely means you’ll be assigned a new case. The fact that you’ll be pulling ahead in this little contest you have with Keigo is the cherry on top.

But when you step into the Director’s office, shutting the door behind you, a certain coworker greets you with a cheeky two-fingered salute.

“What is he doing here?” The question spills out of your mouth before you can swallow it down, and your lips press together at being unprofessional right in front of your boss.

Keigo holds back a snicker, though the dancing light in his eyes tells you that he’s laughing at you.

“He,” the Director starts, “is going to be your partner on this new assignment.”

Your eyes and Keigo’s eyes grow comically wide.

“Partner?!” both of you squawk, and your boss coughs to cover a laugh.

“I work better alone!” you cry out. Your voice trembles slightly and you have to force your next words to come out steady as you shoot to your feet, pointing at Keigo. “How am I supposed to work with someone who never takes things seriously?”

“Well,” Keigo retorts, hand gesturing at you as he jumps up too, “how am I supposed to work with someone who never loosens up?”

The Director sighs. “Sit. Down.” The two of you obey, and sit silently as she shuffles some papers before speaking again. She first addresses you. “I know your reservations about working with a partner, and I wouldn’t assign you to this case if I didn’t have to.” Once you nod, she now talks to both of you. “It’s unfortunate that you feel this way about each other. But I need you two on this case. We have reason to believe one of Japan’s high-level government officials is distributing sensitive information about our country to the highest paying foreign government.”

She slides a picture across her desk. You exchange looks with Keigo before leaning in to study the man printed on the page. Greying hair, brown eyes, wrinkles around thin lips turned down in a frown.

“Kiyoshi Suguru, the Minister of Defense?” Keigo asks, surprise in his voice.

“Yes. He booked a room in one of the best hotels in Japan, at the same time a few visiting diplomats are supposed to be staying. The information exchange will take place here, and we’ll need you to catch Kiyoshi in the act for us to arrest him. We’ve booked you a room as close to Kiyoshi’s as possible. You need to depart tomorrow, and be prepared for his arrival for the day after.”

“Director,” you interrupt, “did you say a room? As in one singular room for the two of us?”

Keigo makes a noise of disgust, and you wrinkle your nose at him.

You don’t like the way the Director’s lips twitch, as if she’s holding back a smile. “Apologies, agents, did I forget to tell you? You’ll be going in as a newlywed couple, pretending to be on your honeymoon at the hotel.”

“We’re what?!”

–

You stalk back into the office with a thunderous expression on your face. Quiet footsteps follow you, but you’d much rather ignore your soon-to-be-roommate until you have to face him for the case.

Of all people, why Keigo? You’d much rather be partnered with Rumi, Shouta, Hizashi, or even Touya. But Keigo? It makes you shudder to think about being so close to him for multiple days on end.

He’ll be lucky if he makes it through one night without you strangling him in his sleep.

–

“Put your stuff in the back and get in.” You yawn and rub at your eyes as Keigo pops open the trunk to place his suitcase in.

“How come you get to drive?” he complains, getting into the car.

You glance at him briefly, before turning your attention to the road as you pull out of the parking lot. “Because we all know how you drive, Hawks. ‘Too fast for your own good’ or something. I’d like to make it to the hotel in one piece, thanks.”

Keigo’s eyes roll and he groans at your response. “And this is exactly why I don’t want to work with you. You’re so… uptight all the time. Loosen up a little! Have some fun, especially when it isn’t necessary to be serious! Don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

It stings a little to hear that your coworker thinks of you like this. But his comments only remind you of why you don’t want to work with him. “I’m serious when I’m on the job, even more so when it comes to people’s safety. There’s plenty of time to have fun outside of work, and even in the office, but I don’t turn every moment into a joke, unlike some people,” you spit. “I don’t hate fun, I just don’t agree with your work ethic.”

Your words make Keigo scoff. He doesn’t believe you, and he doesn’t get your distaste for how he works. He completes just as many cases done as you do, and he does them just as well—if not better. But as a spy, he’s sometimes tasked with doing things most people would shy away from, so he chooses to put up a carefree and teasing front while his mind whirls away behind his sharp, golden eyes.

“Disagree all you want, but I’m not the one that’ll put our cover at risk. How are you supposed to be a newlywed with an attitude like that?”

“My attitude will be a million times nicer if you become a million times less annoying. And don’t worry. I won’t be the one to jeopardize our disguise.”

“If you say so,” Keigo replies, though his tone tells you he has no confidence in you at all. “What about our backstory, then? We have tons of interesting options to choose from; take your pick.”

“They already gave us fake profiles with a story and everything. You haven’t memorized it?”

“I looked it over, but it’s bland. Nobody is going to believe us if there’s only two pages of personal history between us, especially since we’re married. C’mon, you must have an imagination in that pretty head of yours, use it!”

“My pretty what?”

Keigo winces.

“First of all, if you say one more thing like that while we’re in the car, I’ll make sure we go too fast for your own good. Have you ever wanted to see what the bottom of a bridge looks like?” You ask the question lightly, keeping a tight rein on your anger.

The quick change of your demeanor is almost unsettling to Keigo, but he pretends to be unfazed. “Nope! Can’t say I have.”

“Hmm, disappointing. Let’s make sure it remains that way, then. And second of all, if you really want a backstory, how about this: office romance. Close enough to the truth that it’s easy to remember, mundane enough that it shouldn’t be too interesting. You were the insufferable coworker that fell in love with me, and somehow wormed your way into my heart.”

“I don’t–”

“Bridge. Remember?”

Keigo sighs and stares out the window. “Fine. Sounds fantastic, prince- uh, partner.”

You smile, all teeth and glinting eyes. “Perfect.”

Silence falls, and lasts all the way to the hotel. You steel yourself for the days ahead, where you and your infuriating coworker will have to get this case done. Keigo muses about your attitude toward him while in the office and in the car, and wonders if it’ll be possible for both of you to play a married couple.

If the two of you can’t manage to settle and focus on the case, this might be the first major mission you fail this year. And regardless of how you feel about Keigo, failure would be unacceptable.

–

You get into the hotel with no issues, except for an ache in Keigo’s foot as a result of him calling you “my sweet songbird” in front of the receptionist. Even he had to admit the stomp he received from you was well deserved.

The hotel room is spacious and well decorated, as expected of a five star hotel in Japan. The only problem is the large bed that’s pushed against one wall of the room.

“I am not sharing a bed with you,” you hiss, jabbing a finger into Keigo’s side as soon as the door shuts behind you.

He swats your hand away. “Then don’t! The couch is right there.”

“Wonderful. Why don’t you take it then?”

“Mmm, no thanks.”

You wrinkle your nose at Keigo. “We’ll discuss this later. For now, we have a few rooms we need to bug.”

Setting your bags on the floor, you pull out a suitcase and unzip it, feeling along the inside until your fingers pass over a few bumps. Moments later, a couple of tiny listening chips rest in your hand.

Keigo takes two from you, leaving two for yourself. His other hand holds the key card for Kiyoshi’s room, given to him by the tech support in the office. “Room 403, two down the hall from us. Ready to go?”

At your nod, he opens the door to your hotel room, holding it for you to exit first. You smile slightly in thanks, and he gives a cheeky wink back.

“See, I’m not a completely terrible person,” he says as you walk down the hall. The coast is clear, so you don’t have to hold hands with Keigo and pretend to be a married couple right now.

“I never said you were terrible,” you protest. “I just… can’t see myself getting along with you.”

“Because I’m someone who ‘never takes things seriously.’”

“Yeah. You’re always joking around. I get that because of our job, it helps to find amusement when you can, but I can’t work with someone who’s like that all the time.” You breathe deeply and look into Keigo’s eyes. “I need to know that my partner has my back, and will take care of what needs to be done, especially when it matters the most. I don’t feel that from you.”

Golden eyes narrow. “It’s because of your former partner.”

“H-hiro.” The name is glass on your tongue as you force it out.

“He hurt you.”

Your eyes are dark with sorrow, and your smile only tells of pain. “Doesn’t everyone hurt others, sometimes?”

He opens his mouth to try and comfort you, or to make a joke, anything to wipe the sadness away–

There’s a ding of the elevator and faint voices tickle at your ears. You’re snapped out of the weird atmosphere, and kicked into action.

Keigo slides the key card into Kiyoshi’s hotel room. The light flicks green, the door swings open, and you rush in after him, taking care to shut the door quietly behind you.

He whistles, low and long. “Damn.”

This hotel room is even larger than the one you and Keigo share. There’s an actual office, a kitchen and bar, and a bathroom with a bathtub big enough for two people. Tall glass windows span from the floor to the ceiling, and a glass door leads out to a balcony that overlooks pale sandy beaches and bright blue waves.

“Bathroom and office,” you call out, moving to those rooms to plant your listening devices.

The cabinet under the sink is the perfect place for your first one. It’s dark and shadowed even with both doors open, so you stick the bug in the back corner. And a few seconds after you stick it down, the device turns into a deep brown that matches the cabinet. You can’t tell it apart from the wood anymore.

You pass Keigo as you move into the office. He’s installing a bug behind the TV, and a small smile makes its way on your face. You would have planted one there too.

After you place your second bug under the desk in the office, you meet Keigo back in the main room.

“All good?” you ask him.

“They’ll never see a thing.” Keigo pockets the key card to this room, and tilts his head to the door. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Right when his hand is about to push down the handle, gruff voices speak right outside the door.

You both freeze. Your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“Boss wants us to do a sweep of the room before he comes up. Get it over with quickly, he has important people to meet.”

Before the person even finishes speaking, you and Keigo are running across the room to the balcony door, unlocking it and sliding it open as quickly and as quietly as possible. You slip out first, head turning, trying to find a place to hide.

There’s two metal chairs and a table—both of which offer no protection. And glass windows stretch from floor to ceiling, so as soon as anyone enters the hotel room, they’ll spot you outside right away.

There’s only one option left.

You look at Keigo, then your eyes flicker to the railing on the balcony.

He groans, rolls his shoulders, and wipes his palms down his pants. “If you don’t know how to fly, sweetheart, hold on tight.” With that, he strides to the side and swings his legs over the rails. Turning to face you, he winks, smirks, and steps off the edge.

Your heart skips a beat, but his hands wrap around the railing at the very bottom, and you can breathe again.

Now it’s your turn.

The cloth of your pants is rough against your hands when you rub your palms against them once, then twice to make sure they’re dry. Your motions are stiff as you step over the balcony railing. You wish you could take your time making sure your hold is secure, but the door to the hotel room is opening up inward, and you know you can’t be seen.

So you step off the ledge. Painted metal scrapes against your palms as your hands slide down the railings. Your body jolts when your hands reach the bottom, shoulders aching from the weight of carrying yourself.

Both of you stay quiet as voices fill Kiyoshi’s hotel room. They’re doing a quick search by the sounds of it, just looking for obvious signs of things being out of place. And thank goodness it’s a quick search, because the longer you hang here, the more your arms start to ache, and the more your palms start to sweat.

“How’re you hanging, partner?”

The whisper makes you snap your head to the side, eyes narrowed at Keigo. “If you make me laugh I’m actually going to fall and you’ll have a big problem on your hands.”

“Okay, okay, no jokes. For now.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “I’ll be full of suspense waiting for your next one.”

You love the way Keigo’s eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. “I- What- Did you just make a joke?”

You actually snicker, and try to hide your face in your arm so the sound doesn’t travel. “I told you, I’m not entirely against fun.”

“Well, I definitely had to see it to believe it.” Keigo grins at you. It’s a bright and amused smile that makes him look even more handsome and–

You blink hard. Where on earth was your mind trying to wander? “By the way,” you muse, “why on earth are we hanging here when there’s a balcony below us?”

Before Keigo can even completely register the question, you let go of the railing and fall for a few seconds, wincing at the impact. There’s not enough space for you to roll out the momentum, so a slight pain tingles at your ankles, but it’s not bad.

A soft thump signals Keigo’s landing. “The answer to that question is: because I didn’t look down.”

“You’ve never heard of ‘look before you leap?’”

“I’m Hawks, sweetheart. I don’t have to look if I can fly.”

You roll your eyes and swat at his arm. “I still have no clue how you got that nickname.”

“First it was the speedy driving. That’s why people started calling me ‘a man too fast for his own good.’ The nickname itself comes from a drunken dare–”

“As most weird nicknames come from,” you add.

“–a drunken dare from Touya and Rumi. I don’t remember getting to the tattoo parlor, but I definitely remember sobering up in the chair as I’m getting red hawk wings tattooed on my back. So, hawk wings and speed gets you the nickname ‘Hawks.’”

Your eyes widen, then you laugh. “You got a huge tattoo while drunk? I can’t say I’m surprised.”

A smile spreads across Keigo’s face, pleased to have gotten this reaction out of you. “If you don’t believe me, I can show you the evidence anytime. Just say the word.”

“No thanks,” you scoff, though a traitorous part of you whispers maybe a peek. “If you want to get shirtless that badly, you can do that in your free time when we’re not on a case and when we’re not stuck on a balcony. Speaking of which, I think they’re gone now.”

Both of you stay silent for a few moments, ears straining to listen for footsteps or voices from above.

“Let me check,” Keigo says. He steps onto one of the balcony chairs, then moves onto the table. Then he jumps, incredibly high for a man of his height, and his hands wrap around the railing up above.

He looks a little strange from this angle as he wiggles to pull himself up and peek inside the hotel room. You definitely don’t notice the strip of honeyed skin and a smattering of dark blonde hair that is revealed as his shirt lifts a bit higher than his pants.

No, you don’t notice it at all.

“All clear!” He peers down at you. “You coming up or what? Let’s go before the man himself shows up.”

You shake your head to clear away thoughts about him, and get onto the table. With a leap, your hands grasp the railing of the balcony above. Your body swings back and forth as you pull yourself up little by little, before you finally can get your feet on the ledge. Glancing up, Keigo is standing with his back to you as he slides the door open.

You step one leg over the railing onto the safe side. Thankful that the whole ordeal is almost over, you start to relax. But as you’re bringing the other leg over, your shoe catches on the top of the railing and you lose your balance on the one leg you’re standing on.

You’re falling, you’re falling–

A noise of alarm escapes you, and Keigo whirls around, eyes wide. He’s at your side in an instant.

“I got you, sweetheart.”

Warm hands catch you by the shoulders, steading you while you free your foot from the railing. Once you’re no longer in danger of tripping, you look into Keigo’s eyes.

You really mean it when you say, “Thank you.” Not just for him catching you, but for his ‘I got you.’ In this moment, you truly believe that he has your back, and some part of you is growing softer, hopeful that he’ll be there for the rest of the mission.

Keigo nods, seeming to know that you mean more. A moment later, he withdraws his hands, leaving your shoulders cold.

“Let’s go,” he says, walking across the hotel room.

You watch him for a moment, with gentle eyes and a soft smile, then move to follow. He holds the door open for you as you both slip out, and another part of your walls crumble even more.

–

The two of you spend a few hours in the hotel room, checking to make sure the bugs are connected to the laptop, and making sure all your other gear is ready. You also call in to headquarters, where they tell you that Kiyoshi arrived earlier because one of the diplomats has to leave tomorrow.

“No wonder his bodyguards are already here,” you say to Keigo, who sits to your right as both of you stare at the computer screen.

He nods. “So that means we should be able to wrap this up in three days at most. Figure out who Kiyoshi is going to sell the information to, catch him in the act, and arrest him.”

“Exactly.”

“Now that it’s all settled, let’s get some food. I’m hungry.” Keigo stands up from his chair and stretches, reaching toward the ceiling until something in his back pops.

You wrinkle your nose at the sound and stay seated, eyes glued to the computer.

“What?” he asks.

He peers at the screen, resting his hands on the back of your chair and leaning forward, his chest just a breath away from your back. There’s a slightly musky scent in the air—Keigo’s cologne, you realize. The warmth of his body makes you stiffen, knowing just how close he is. And yet he brings himself even closer, one arm stretching out before you, a finger tapping lightly on the screen.

“You know, staring at the screen all day won’t make the bugs pick up anything faster.” His voice is light and teasing, at complete odds with the rigid wall of your back. “Kiyoshi hasn’t even gotten to his room yet; he’s probably been meeting with some of the diplomats. Which means we should be out of this room, and be a happy couple on our honeymoon. Besides,” he adds, more calmly, “you need to eat.”

There’s a few moments of silence, before you nod. “Okay, fine. Let’s go eat.”

“Great!” Keigo steps away, moving to put on his shoes.

Shutting the laptop with a shake of your head, you take a deep breath to clear away your thoughts. Lunch. Right. You can do it.

After slipping on a pair of shoes, you grab your wallet and join Keigo by the door. He looks through the peephole and holds up a finger, signaling that one person is in the hallway.

“Time to put on a show,” he murmurs. “In three, two, one- After you, sweetheart.” He pulls open the door and gestures with his hand, letting you exit first.

You walk backwards through the doorway, facing him as you giggle and pull on his arm. “You’re so sweet. Why did I wait so long to marry you?”

He chuckles. The warm and husky sound sends tingles down your spine. “You tell me. I knew you already captured my heart on week one. Even though– Watch out!”

A tug on your hands sends you stumbling into Keigo’s side, and he’s quick to wrap a protective arm around you. You blink at him in shock, then look at whoever he was saving you from running into.

Your heart skips a beat. But you’re a trained agent, and a good one at that, so you keep up your act and gasp in delighted surprise—instead of in horror.

“You’re the Minister of Defense! I’m so sorry for nearly running into you; my husband was distracting me and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and I–”

“No need to worry,” Kiyoshi says smoothly, cutting off your rambling. He’s smiling slightly, but his brown eyes are unsettling. “Although I have to admit, I’m surprised that you recognized me.”

“My husband is really into politics. The TV is often on whatever channel is reporting about the latest updates, and he talks about it a lot when we have dinner together!”

“I’m always afraid that I might be boring, but I’m lucky enough to be with someone that can put up with me.” Keigo smiles and laughs, and Kiyoshi chuckles along too. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Minister.”

The two men shake hands, and Kiyoshi nods at you both. “Nice to meet you both, but unfortunately, I have to depart. I have some business to attend to.”

“Oh, of course!” you say. “You must have lots of important things to do. We don’t want to hold you back from that!”

Keigo nods and drops his arm from your shoulders. He bends it and offers it out to you; ever the gentleman. “Shall we, darling?”

You smile at him and rest your hand on his arm. With a small wave to Kiyoshi, both of you continue down the hall to the elevators, where you get in and press the floor for the dining areas. Once the doors shut in front of you, both of you sigh and step away from each other.

“What a coincidence,” you say.

“Sure was! Thank goodness for my fast reflexes, or else you would have run over the Minister, and our trip would be over.”

You roll your eyes. You can’t outright talk about your mission in public, but you know what he’s trying to say. “Hey, you should be thanking me. You got to meet the Minister of Defense, and I know you’re such a big fan.”

He pretends to gag, and you laugh. Then the elevator doors open with a ding, and the two of you step out onto the new floor, hand in hand with adoring looks in your eyes.

It’s time for lunch, and you must continue playing your parts.

–

Lunch is delicious, as expected of a restaurant in a five star hotel. Having a full stomach makes you feel better and ready to return to work, so you return to your room and open up the computer.

Since Kiyoshi has been in his room, the listening devices have picked up audio, so you and Keigo sit down to listen through it. Kiyoshi has made multiple phone calls over the past hour to different diplomats, as they organize a dinner where all of them will discuss their offers.

You look at Keigo. “We need to know what happens at that dinner table.”

He nods, pacing across the room as he thinks out loud. “We need to plant a bug at the table, but there hasn’t been any mention of where they’ll sit. There’s definitely a limited number of tables that will seat so many people, but it’ll be suspicious if we poke around, especially if any of his bodyguards or the other diplomats see. It’ll have to be during the meal—we can be down there earlier to see them come in.” He trails off, before spinning around to face you, face bright as he has an idea.

“How good are you at playing drunk?”

You consider the question for a second, then roll your head back and let out a groan. “I can do it if we absolutely need me to.”

Keigo smirks. “Oh, we absolutely need you to.”

–

And that is why you find yourself stumbling down the hallway after dinner, supporting yourself against the wall with one hand, while the other clutches your wallet.

“H-honey?” you mumble, words slurring. “Where’s the elevator?” There’s no response, but you keep walking forward, until your hand no longer meets the wall and you wobble through a doorway. “Oh!”

The heads of five diplomats, seven bodyguards, and the Minister of Defense snap toward you as all conversation stops abruptly.

You smile and wave, though your eyes cross slightly. “I’m s-sorry–” you hiccup, “–this isn’t the elevator. Oh look! It’s the Minister!”

A thunderous look passes over Kiyoshi’s face, but it’s gone in an instant as he gets out of his seat, offering placating smiles and apologetic looks to the diplomats as he makes his way to you.

“What are you doing here? Where is your husband?” he asks. He places his hands on your shoulders to steady you—much like what Keigo did on the balcony—but his grip is tight and digs into your skin.

“He’s, uh, paying for dinner! I told him- I told him I’d get the elevator, but I found you instead!” you giggle and place your hands on Kiyoshi’s wrist, trying to keep your balance as you sway on your feet.

Some of the other diplomats snicker at you, but you don’t care. After all, you’re doing exactly what you need to do.

“There you are!” Keigo’s voice comes from behind you. “I was looking for you, sweetheart, where have you been?”

You let go of Kiyoshi’s wrists, reaching behind you for Keigo’s hand. His skin is warm and slightly calloused under yours. You tap a finger twice on his palm, and he squeezes twice back. “Hi! I found the Minister instead of the elevator.”

“I can see that,” he says, with amusement and embarrassment in his voice. He focuses his attention on Kiyoshi. “I apologize, we might have had a bit too much to drink during dinner. We’re on our honeymoon, you see.”

Kiyoshi nods briskly and lets go of your shoulders. You sway backward into Keigo’s chest, and his grip on you is so much more safe.

“Enjoy your honeymoon. I must get back to my own dinner, but please return to your hotel room safely.”

“Ah, yes!” Keigo dips his head to the other people in the room. “I apologize for the interruption; I’m sure you all know how lightweights can get. Thank you for your time, Minister.”

He offers his hand for the Minister to shake. Kiyoshi takes it, and Keigo claps his other hand on the man’s wrist, bowing as low as he can go with you leaning against him. A moment later, Keigo withdraws and places a hand on your back, the other holding your hand to lead you out of the room.

–

Kiyoshi watches your departure, brown eyes cold and hard, even as the other diplomats laugh about how silly you were and what a wonderful husband you have. He fiddles with his sleeves, creasing the folds so his cuffs are the exact width he prefers. Then he returns to his seat, saying, “Let us return to the topic at hand. What do you have to offer in exchange for my information?”

–

You stumble into the elevator with Keigo right beside you, a dazed smile on your face as you nod to the other hotel guests.

As the elevator brings you back down to the fourth floor, you continue to play the part of a lightweight. One hand reaches up behind you to rest at the base of Keigo’s neck, and you gently play with the soft strands of his hair. When your nails lightly scrape against his skin, he can’t stop the shiver that courses through him. You feel it, since you’re pressed against him, so you smile at him and giggle.

He rests a hand on your hip and squeezes gently; a warning.

You blink at him with wide eyes, and this time, intentionally run your nails lightly down his neck.

Golden eyes darken into an amber, and the hand on your hip squeezes once again. This time, you shiver too.

The elevator jolts as it arrives at your floor, breaking the tension between you two. Keigo leads you out, nodding to the others in the elevator as you pass by on wobbly legs. You keep up the act all the way to your hotel room, though both of you pick up the speed.

Once Keigo shuts and locks the door behind you, both of you race to the laptop and open it up. The app that is tracking all the listening devices is recording, and you click on the fifth live recording.

Kiyoshi’s voice comes through loudly and crisply, and Keigo looks at you, impressed.

“Where the hell did you stick the thing?” he asks when there’s a lull in the dinner negotiations.

Your smile is smug. “In the cuffs of his sleeve, while he was steadying me.”

Keigo’s face darkens, and he leans closer toward you. “He was holding onto you pretty tightly. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. He didn’t do anything that I couldn’t do to him a hundred times worse. Why?” you ask, voice turning light, “Was the pretty birdie worried about me?”

“Yep I was worried, but only if you were calling me pretty.” He winks, then turns serious again. “I’m all for getting close to attractive people, but only with their consent.”

“I know, Takami. You’re not the type of person to do things to someone if they don’t want you to.”

He nods. Keigo is glad that your view of him seems to be getting better and better with every hour that you spend together on this assignment. It probably helps that he’s not purposely trying to annoy you all the time, and focuses on the mission, especially at critical moments.

Both of you spend the next hour by the laptop, listening to the conversation Kiyoshi has with the diplomats. They talk, and negotiate, and some of the diplomats get more aggressive.

Finally, Kiyoshi makes a decision. He sends the other diplomats away except one, and they continue to talk about the deal. But neither you nor Keigo hear anything about the time or location of the exchange, and you grow more and more antsy.

“What if Kiyoshi noticed something is off?” you ask Keigo. Kiyoshi and the diplomat have separated, and he’s probably returning to his hotel room.

He frowns, thinking, then shakes his head. “Don’t think so. He’ll probably talk in his room and we’ll be able to catch the information. I’ll keep listening; you can go use the bathroom and get ready to sleep.”

“Sleep on the bed, right?”

Keigo scoffs. “As if! I still have to fight you for that. And it’s a fight I plan on winning.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” you say with a laugh. You get out a change of clothes and head to the bathroom, and he returns to the laptop with a smile on his face.

–

When you exit the bathroom, Keigo is pacing the room as he’s on his phone. You listen in on his half of the conversation, knowing that something must have come up by the way he’s moving and talking.

“He said seven in the morning, at the abandoned warehouse further down the beach.” A pause as he listens to the other person, before he says, “Yes, it’s an odd place. But that’s what he said on the phone with the diplomat.”

Your eyes widen and you sit in front of the laptop, pulling up a map of the nearby area. A piece of paper rests on the table with scribbles in Keigo’s handwriting—an address—and you type it into the map.

The place is definitely sketchy; a large, concrete building with cracked or missing windows and vines growing up the walls. Nobody would voluntarily go there, unless they were up to something they didn’t want others to see.

That’s definitely what Kiyoshi wants to do.

“We’ll go in tomorrow, before seven. Make a quick loop of the place, put up some cameras to collect proof, and wait until he arrives.

“Fine. We won’t engage unless they see us; we’ll wait for backup for the arrest. Understood, Director. Goodnight.”

He hangs up and looks at you, and you nod. “I got the gist of it, but update me quickly. Looks like it’ll be an early morning for us.”

Keigo tells you everything, and it confirms what you’ve gathered from listening to him on the phone. “Now get some sleep,” he finishes. “I don’t want you to be all cranky in the morning.”

“I’ll be less cranky if I get to sleep on a nice, comfortable bed,” you say. “You’d want that for your partner, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.” His voice is rather fond, and your eyes grow wide. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the couch. Besides, we’re in a five star hotel, how bad can it be?”

–

As it turns out, even in five star hotels, the couches can be pretty uncomfortable to sleep on.

You can’t fall asleep because of the constant creaking of springs. Each time Keigo turns, probably because he can’t find a comfortable spot, the sound is piercing in the quiet of the night. And you know he’s trying to keep still, but even if he just tries to shift just a little, the squeaking fills your ears.

After a solid hour of this, you sit up. You’ve had enough.

“Takami.”

The couch creaks again as he jolts in surprise, before he sits up too. “Uh, sorry, am I being too loud? This couch has more springs than–”

“Come here.” Your words are a bit more hesitant, but Keigo hears them all the same.

“I– What? Did you–”

“If you say another word I’m taking back my offer, and you know both of us are going to suffer for it. So come here, sleep on the bed, but on your half only.” The words spill out of your mouth as you scramble to put some extra pillows in the middle of the bed. Once you’ve created a soft barrier that you’re pleased with, you lay back down, turn your back to him, and pull the covers up.

“Goodnight.”

Keigo is speechless. He never thought that you’d offer to share a bed, especially not with the way both of you were arguing just this morning. But he’s not going to question it too much, not with the way his back aches from laying on the stiff couch for an hour.

So he gets into bed on his half, trying his best to not shift the mattress too much, and pulls up the blankets. As his eyes slide closed and he drifts off into sleep, he hopes that tomorrow will go just as smoothly as today. And he hopes that when the two of you return to the office, you’ll both continue to get along—with the usual teasing and sarcasm—and maybe one day, you’ll call him by his first name.

–

“Cameras in the north and east are installed and on,” you say quietly. You crouch underneath a window before taking a cautious peek outside. The coast is clear; Kiyoshi hasn’t arrived yet.

A second later, Keigo’s warm voice fills your ears. “South one is installed, I’m on my way to the west one. Start heading back to the office rooms on the second floor, that’s a good vantage point for us.”

“Got it. Be fast, it’s getting close to seven.” You start making your way to one of the ladders, scaling it to get to the second floor.

“Is that concern I hear in your voice?”

“I don’t know, Hawks, is it? There must be something messing with your earpiece.”

He chuckles, then both of you fall silent as you focus on your tasks.

Once you get to the second floor, you look over the balcony railing. This warehouse is built a bit strangely, with multiple walkways that form a second floor, overlooking the main open area below. There are some offices on the east wall, and that’s where you head now.

As you slip through the office doors, something crackles through your earpiece.

You frown. “Hawks? You okay?”

There’s no response. You try again. “Takami? Can you respond?” A pause, then, “If you’re trying to pull something on me, this isn’t funny!”

You’re panicking a bit now, getting jittery as you pace through the offices. He hasn’t left you, right? He wouldn’t have just ditched you as a joke, would he? If he did, you’ll never be able to trust him again–

There’s another crackle of static, then Keigo’s voice finally comes through. You breathe a sigh of relief. But then his words, teasing yet so cold, have you freezing in place. “Woah, woah, woah, gentlemen! You don’t have to be so rough here. Four of you, and Kiyoshi too? I’m not going anywhere.”

Only five people total? Why isn’t Keigo fighting his way out of there then? He’d definitely make it; you know he’s been on missions with worse odds than this.

“Hey, hey! Hands off! I’m just out here for a stroll before I go sightseeing later today. It’s not my problem if you don’t believe–”

A lot of shuffling comes through your earpiece, then a clatter, and a crunch. You can’t hear anything through it anymore.

But you hear plenty when you move to the office door and open it a crack. Voices bounce off the walls of the warehouse, and you can see what’s happening in the middle of the building.

Keigo isn’t even trying to struggle as two bodyguards grip his arms and force him to walk.

You blink, realization dawning. Then you groan quietly. “You idiot,” you mumble. He wants you to continue with the plan, so you can catch Kiyoshi. But since this is a set up—speaking of which, how did Kiyoshi figure it out?—you’ll have to confirm that he stole the information and has it on him, before you can call in to headquarters to make the arrest.

Pulling out your phone, you send off a text to the office. “Hawks is captured, but can continue with the plan. Will notify once evidence is gathered, and arrest can be made.”

Seconds later, you receive a response. The message contains only one word: understood.

So really, it’s all up to Keigo. For now, you’ll just stay hidden and listen, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

–

“I knew there was something off about you,” Kiyoshi hisses. He stands in front of Keigo, who’s tied to a chair.

“You’re on your honeymoon, but you spent so much time in the hotel, and got your spouse drunk while you went off on your own. Then you came back and shook my hand, placing your hand on my sleeve, where I later discovered a listening device.”

Keigo smirks. So Kiyoshi didn’t know that you were the one who slipped the bug into his sleeve, and probably doesn’t suspect you at all. He’ll have to remember to compliment you—or tease you—for it later.

“Punch him,” Kiyoshi commands. He looks to his bodyguard. “I don’t like the look on his face.”

Keigo squawks, offended. “This is just my face!”

But the bodyguard does as ordered, and a large fist collides against cheekbone and jaw, snapping Keigo’s head to the side. His head hangs low from the impact, and he huffs for breath, before slowly looking back up. Pain radiates from the blow, and metal coats his tongue from his teeth cutting into his cheek.

“Damn,” he drawls. “If your bodyguard hits this softly, I bet your punches hurt as much as an ant would.”

“Do it again.”

The bodyguard steps forward to deliver another blow—this time, to Keigo’s stomach. Kiyoshi glances at his watch, forehead creasing slightly, and satisfaction fills Keigo even as pain starts to spread.

He knows what to do to get Kiyoshi to admit to everything.

–

Every time the bodyguard’s fist connects with Keigo’s body, you flinch so hard that your teeth clack together.

You hate sitting here, like a coward, while your partner is down there getting beaten up as he gets the information. You want to jump down and get Keigo out of there so badly, but he wants to continue the mission, so you’ll back him up to the end. All you can do now is hide under one of these office desks, as Kiyoshi’s other three bodyguards circle the second floor as lookouts.

Keigo taunts Kiyoshi every time he catches his breath from the previous blow. You can tell he’s getting tired, and is in pain, but you can also tell that Kiyoshi is losing his patience.

And then, Keigo asks the questions.

“So,” he pants, “what were you planning on doing, huh? Sell sensitive information about Japan to the highest bidder? And if you got discovered, what then? Were you going to run with your tail between your legs?”

The final taunt is enough to make Kiyoshi explode.

“Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth! I have everything planned out, and it’ll work even if you and the rest of you little spies try to stick your nose into anything.

“Even though you caught me, who’s coming for you, hm? By the time anyone realizes you’re gone, I’ll have exchanged the information with the diplomat, and I’ll be on a private plane to a safe house. With the amount of money I’m getting from this deal, I’ll have no problem making Kiyoshi Suguru disappear off the face of the earth, and live my life under a new name.”

Keigo smirks. “That’s an awful lot of trouble to go through,” he says, grin growing wider as he hears faint noises from upstairs, “for someone who’s about to get caught.”

“Oh please,” Kiyoshi sneers, “I have all the time in the world.” He nods toward a bodyguard, and the guard steps forward to punch Keigo again.

But Keigo speaks up. “No you don’t, actually. At the most, you have four hours, because you’re meeting the diplomat at noon. At the least, you have about five minutes before you send your last bodyguard up to find my partner, where the bodyguard will get knocked out, and you’ll be taken down.”

Kiyoshi scoffs, and the bodyguard drives a fist into Keigo’s stomach. The air is forced out of his lungs, and he retches, straining against the ropes that bind him to the chair as he heaves for breath.

“Wait.” Kiyosh frowns. “Partner?”

Keigo relishes the way Kiyoshi’s eyes widen and his face pales. “Oh yeah! Guess I forgot to tell you, but I’m not working alone.”

Thump.

Kiyoshi and his bodyguard turn their eyes up toward the ceiling, as if they’d see the source of the sound.

Keigo doesn’t need to look to know that’s the sound of a body hitting the ground, and the lighter taps that follow the initial noise are made by your shoes as you sprint across the balcony at your next target. He sits back in his seat and rolls his head back, not minding the pain. He’s done his part. Now, all he has to do is play damsel in distress, and he’s more than happy to do that when you’re the one rescuing him.

–

As soon as you hear Keigo ask the questions, you fire off a text and creep out of your hiding spot to wait by the office door. When a bodyguard passes by, looking down over the balcony, you don’t give him time to react, slamming open the office door straight into his back. He doesn’t get a chance to recover as you yank on his clothes to swing him into the office, kicking hard at his back so he runs straight into the office tables.

He blindly reaches behind him, trying to grab onto you. You dodge his arms and leap on the table. With one knee pressing in the middle of his back, you grab his head and slam it against the desk, once, twice, three times. He can only groan in pain as you cuff his hand to the leg of the table.

That’s one down, three more to go.

Kiyoshi is still ranting as you burst out of the office again, looking for your next target.

The bodyguard is running straight toward you, having noticed that his coworker is missing. You pick up speed, not backing down.

He swings his arm, aiming toward your face. Throwing yourself down and to the side to dodge, you smack into the railing of the walkway, but you keep moving past him. Now that you’re behind, you kick the back of his knees, and he buckles, hitting the ground.

He swings at you wildly, and his fist manages to catch your hip, knocking you into the railing once again. Your ribs pulse with every breath you take, but it doesn’t stop you.

As he grabs onto the rails to steady himself, you bring your leg up, stepping down hard on his arm. He throws his head back to yell, but you don’t want Kiyoshi to know that something is going on quite yet. So you swing a fist, punching him in the throat. All that escapes his mouth are wheezes as he struggles for breath, and it’s easy for you to knock him out completely.

His body hits the walkway with a thump.

The conversation below stops.

You pause for a second to catch your breath, before running toward the third bodyguard. It takes a bit longer to take him down, and you get punched in the side and elbowed in the face, but eventually he’s unconscious on the walkway too.

There’s only Kiyoshi and his final bodyguard left, and it’s about time you show your face. You have to end this.

–

You’re climbing down the ladder as fast as you can, when Kiyoshi spots you and orders his last bodyguard to take you down. The bodyguard waits at the bottom of the ladder for you to get close enough.

As soon as you make it within his reach, he lunges for you. Grabbing tightly to the sides of the ladder, you pull your legs in toward you, then kick out behind you with all your strength. Your feet connect with his chest, knocking him back enough for you to jump down to the floor.

He swings a fist, and you duck beneath it, kicking at his ankles and punching his side as you move. He’s knocked off balance but still tries to punch you. This time his fist hits your shoulder. You reel back from the force of it, and follow through with the movement so you’re once again at the ladder.

Jumping up to grab a rung, you swing forward and kick the bodyguard again, connecting with his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs and knocking him off his feet. His body shakes the ground and you jump down on top of him, one of your feet crushing his hand at your landing.

“Oops,” you mutter, then slam your elbow into his throat, before pressing your arm down hard enough that he loses consciousness.

Once you’re sure that he’s down and won’t be getting back up for a while, you look up at Kiyoshi with rage showing through your eyes.

He’s backing away from you, stammering as he finally recognizes you. “H-how? You’re, you’re h-his–”

“Partner,” you finish for him. Your grin is more of a snarl, with teeth and a thirst for blood in return for the blood of your partner that has been spilled.

Kiyoshi’s face turns deathly pale. He stumbles backward, taking one wobbling step after another toward the doors of the warehouse. You mimic him, stalking forward step by step. Then he’s turning his back on you, sprinting for the doors.

You let him run.

After all, you don’t care about Kiyoshi. As soon as he exits the warehouse doors, he’s surrounded by agents, and he’s cuffed in seconds. Instead, all your attention is on Keigo, who is still bloodied and tied to the chair, head hanging down.

He looks up as you run toward him, and a smile spreads across his face despite the cut on his lip. “Is that concern I see on your face?”

“Stop smiling,” you snap, though your voice trembles. You move behind him to untie the rope, babbling as you do so. “I can’t believe you let yourself get taken like that! You could have fought your way out easily, but you had to go and be stubborn as usual—I can’t stand that about you—and you got hurt, when we could have just left, and I–” You inhale deeply, and it’s almost a sob.

Keigo stiffens.

“If you didn’t– if it was worse–”

“But it wasn’t, sweetheart,” he says gently. Your breath catches in your throat, and you duck your head down to keep picking at the knots.

Keigo continues. “I’m alright, I promise. Nothing that some bandages and a few days of rest won’t fix. I’m more worried about you, though. You went against four trained bodyguards, and I know as skilled as you are, they landed a few hits on you.”

“You were punched multiple times by one of them! Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself!”

The final knot comes loose, and the ropes around Keigo fall slack. You move around to stand in front of him, stepping between his legs. Tilting his face up, you grimace at the bruises you see already forming.

“I still look pretty, right?”

“You look as handsome as ever, Keigo.”

His breath catches in his throat. He thinks he’s never heard a voice say his name so tenderly, and has never seen eyes that looked at him so softly. “Say that again,” he demands, voice hoarse.

“You look handsome?”

“No. The other part, my name.”

“Oh. I, uh–” You swallow, eyes flickering away, before you look back into golden, attentive eyes. “K-keigo. Promise me you’ll be more careful. You can’t throw yourself into danger like that, especially on any cases we’re assigned to in the future. Promise me, Keigo.”

“I promise that I’ll do my best,” he says solemnly. Then he winks. “Now that you’ve had a chance to work with me, you don’t want us to part ways, is that it?”

You whine in annoyance, pushing lightly on his shoulder. “Not if you say something like that!” you protest.

He laughs, and the sound warms you from the inside out. He lifts his hands to cradle your face, and you lean into his touch, heart fluttering in your chest as you stare into his eyes.

Keigo finally breaks the silence. “Will you smack me if I kiss you?”

“I think I’ll smack you if you don’t.”

His smile is brilliant and nearly steals your breath away, then his mouth is on yours, and your breath is stolen away with every brush of your lips against his. The kiss is soft yet passionate, sending tingles down your spine and making heat pool in your stomach.

You rest your arms on his shoulders, fingers playing gently with the short strands of hair. When your nails gently scrape at his neck, he moans into the kiss, and your lips turn up in amusement. He seems to take that as a challenge, and pulls you in even more, tongue brushing against your lower lip. You sigh in delight, and feel his lips curl in return.

“Go get it, Keigo!”

Immediately, you pull away, face hot as you look at Rumi. She grins and winks at both of you, and you know your lips are swollen from the kisses.

Keigo groans and shakes his head, before holding a hand out to you. “Help me up?” he asks.

You nod, and pull him out of the seat. Slinging his arm around your shoulders, you walk by his side, making your way to the other agents. “You know,” you murmur, so only Keigo can hear, “not only would I be unopposed working with you again, I also wouldn’t mind kissing you again.”

He blinks at you, surprised that you’d ever admit that, then grins. “Well, I’m pretty sure I’ll be sent home for a few days to recover. If you care to visit, I suppose I could make some time to give you a few kisses. As for partnering up with you again, I think we could talk to the Director to work something out.”

–

After you and Keigo heal up and return to the office, the number of completed cases on either side of your scoreboard turn from 73 into 74. And by the time the year ends, 74 has turned into 79.

At the end of the year, the Director looks at those numbers with a smile on her face.

Sending the two of you on that Kiyoshi case was the best decision she’s ever made. She has a feeling that you and Keigo will go down in history as one of the best pair of agents to ever work for Japan.

And, she has a feeling that you’ll always be known as the best couple in the department.

#takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #takami keigo #hawks #type: text #my writing #my writing: fic #fanfic: bnha #fanfic: takami keigo

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holykillercake · 4 years ago

Text

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window.

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger.

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance.

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first. When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks.

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution.

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War.

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked.

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else.

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast.

¨Good morning, Koby.¨

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth.

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison.

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting.

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks.

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence.

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you.

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets.

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit.

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled.

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other.

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting.

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs.

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby.

I hope you don´t hate me.

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player.

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess.

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me.

He is a freaking marine. Breathe.

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right?

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder.

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four.

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound.

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable.

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨ Both of you laughed.

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else.

It would have been so easy.

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles.

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain.

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did.

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips.

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips.

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions.

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted.

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

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insomniamamma · 3 years ago

Text

“Surf City Goodness”: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: This is the same AU as “Ferris Wheels Are for Old People” and “Liminal” but you don’t have to read those to read this one. Ezra loses his arm in an automobile accident which kills his brother, Damon and orphans his niece, Cee. Reader lives across the street from Ezra and they’ve been friendly for sometime but now it’s something more. Set after “Ferris Wheels Are For Old People” This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape ‘s Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex. Mentions of drug abuse. Mentions of traumatic injury/surgical scars. Mentions of Reader’s ex. Cee needs her own warning, but mostly this is just fluff. Ez and Cee and Reader enjoy a trip to the beach. I will include some songs from Cee’s playlist at the end.

Iggy Pop's voice warbles out of the speakers. "I wanna go to the beach, I don't care if it's decadent, I don't know where my spirit went, but that's alright..." "This seems a bit bleak, Birdie," says Ezra. "Quit your griping, you'll get your surf city goodness soon enough," says Cee and grins. Part of the deal they've worked out is that Cee gets to pick the music for any road trip longer than two hours, otherwise it's NPR until the signal fades and then whatever classic rock they can pick up. The three of you are crammed in the cab of Ezra's battered Ford Ranger. Cee is the smallest so she sits in the middle. The truck's bed is full of gear, air mattresses and sleeping bags and towels, a cooler filled with food and another filled with beer. I don't know what conditions we'll find exactly, Ez told you, We haven't been back here in some time. "If there's spiders I'm sleeping in the truck," you said and Ezra smiled, and pressed his remaining hand over his heart. "Never fear, Sunshine, I will protect your from our arachnid friends."

"Hey Sunshine!" Ezra calls from his front porch. You look up from your laptop to see Ezra and Cee laden with grocery bags. "Hey, Ez, you need a hand?" He smirks. This is an old joke between the two of you. When Ezra first came home, with Cee and without his arm, they were unloading Cee and Damon's things, bags and boxes and you, without thought had asked if he needed a hand, it just came out and you'd clapped your hands to your mouth, and then spluttered, I'm so sorry I didn't mean--and Ezra laughed, of course I need a hand. I'm down to just the one. "Always," he says. You loop the plastic bags over your arms, sweating packages laden with ground beef and bratwursts and chicken thighs. "You all having a party?" "We're going to the beach," says Cee. "You should come with us. It'll be fun." "Jesus, Cee," he mutters and then collects himself and smiles, "I had meant to ask you before this one jumped the gun-" "It's fine. Really." "You still working remotely?" asks Ezra. "For now. There's some talk about keeping my department remote." "Good thing or bad thing?" "Good thing," you say, "I like working in my pajamas." "Good thing because you could come with us," says Ezra. "Ez--" "I'm dead serious," he says, "Cee's got a four day weekend. We've got decent internet. Damon saw to that before...well, before. Mind you, this will probably be something of a working vacation. Ma's house has stood empty sometime. Damon used to keep it up but..." Ezra trails off. It's a small town. Damon's drug problems were more or less public knowledge. You think of the files you still need to edit, but for once you're ahead of the game. None of that is due until midway through next week. You've got some wiggle room if things go south. "Yeah? Yeah, fuck it. I'm coming with." Ezra smiles wide, revealing his dimples. And that's how you end up in the cab of Ezra's beat-to-shit truck listening to Cee's fun and somewhat baffling playlist.

"Talk to me, baby,I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh, Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy, I-I-I-I-I keep on hopin' we'll eat cake by the ocean..." "Is this a parody?" Asks Ezra, "Like a Weird Al Yankovic thing?" "No," says Cee, "It's an actual song. One of the Jonas brothers did it." "Someone greenlit and recorded this on purpose." "Yep." "A song. About eating cake on a beach." Cee gives you a sly look. "It's a metaphor, Ez," she says, "They're eating something but it's not cake." You have to hold in a laugh, watching the gears in Ezra's brain grind, watching his eyes go big. "Ohmygod! Cee!" Cee cackles and you snort laughter. "You are fifteen years old! You are a minor child! You should not be going there! You should not even know that there exists!" Ezra's cheeks go red. Cee is wheezing, eyes screwed shut with laughter, her own cheeks flaming, "You. Should see. Your face," she says. "It's not funny!" "Oh, it's funny," you say, "She got you good." "Come on, Ez," says Cee, "You think I can't recognize a poorly veiled sexual reference when I hear one? It doesn't take a genius--" "You are a terror," says Ezra, and Cee grins, proud of the title, "And you--" he arcs and eyebrow in your direction--"Are not helping matters." You give him your brightest smile. "What can I say? I thought it was just a song about some goofballs eating cake by the ocean." He huffs, but you can see the smirk creeping up his cheek as he drives.

The house at the end of the driveway is small, a cottage really, single storied and built up on stilts like the others around it, painted a faded robin's egg blue with white trim. The garage is underneath the house, room enough for one car and next to it is a room built to shelter the water heater and plumbing. A wooden staircase snakes up to a deck that wraps the entire structure. Sea grass sprouts in clumps from the sand. It's hot inside, a stale heat, and the first thing you do is open all the windows. "I think there's a couple box fans in the storage space," says Ezra, "I'll go fetch them." The back deck overlooks the ocean, pale expanse of sand and the gentle lap of blue-green sea, a wooden staircase reaches down to the sand below. The day is bright and hot and shot through with high cirrus clouds. You and Ezra have stripped the sheets from the beds and popped them in the washer, loaded the dishwasher, put fans in the windows. "This is cleaner than I expected," says Ezra, "Maybe Damon cared more than I gave him credit for." Ezra's face clouds. You take his hand, squeeze his fingers in yours. You know little about Damon other than the town gossip and what Ezra himself has told you. You don't understand the convolutions of their relationship, you just know that Damon is a slow-healing wound, and that it does Ezra no good to pick at it. You tug at him. "C'mon. Let's get changed. Cee's already got her suit on."

"Turn around, Birdie, let me get your back." Cee rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. Ezra sprays sunscreen across her bony shoulders and rubs it in. "I found a boogie board under the deck," says Cee, "And some toys from when I was real small. I found those floaty things you all used to put on my arms, remember those?" "I do," says Ezra, "Damon chucked you into the surf without so much as a by-your-leave. It scared the hell out of Ma but you laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You're good to go, Little Bird." "Thanks, Ez." And she's down the stairs, heading towards the surf. "Your turn, Sunshine," he says and you turn your back to him. He presses a kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, that one place that makes you squirm and shiver, right on the line between erogenous and ticklish. "Menace--" you say and then squawk when the cold spray hits you, soothed by the passage of his calloused palm across your shoulders, gently gripping the nape of your neck, and you lean back against him briefly, relishing his solidity, his warmth, his hand rests lightly on your hip. "Let me get your back," you say. Ezra turns his back to you and shucks out of his t-shirt. He's already ditched his prosthetic arm. Don't know how seaworthy it is, he'd said, as expensive as it was I don't care to find out. You shake the can of sunscreen and blast him with it. "Christ! That's cold!" "We gotta make sure Cee reapplies after a couple hours," you say, smoothing your hands over his broad back, relishing the slide of his tanned skin beneath your palms, "She'll burn to a crisp otherwise." You press your fingers into the tight muscles of his neck and he makes a contented sound like a purr in his chest. "You're always so tense right here," you say and dig your fingers in, feeling the thrumming muscles loosen somewhat under your touch. Ezra leans back into you as you did to him moments ago, your arms snake around his shoulders, tuck your face against the side of his neck. This thing with you and Ezra is soft and languid and you're not sure how to define it. This is not the fevered, clawed territory of young lovers, the sort of push and pull you had with your ex, the idea that love had to keep proving itself somehow. With Ezra there is nothing to prove. He seems content to ride this gentle wave, to let things play out in their own time. "Turn around," you murmur against his skin, "Not done with you yet." "Now, I am perfectly capable of applying--" he starts, but you see his eyes drop, and know it for what it is. You've known Ezra for a while. The two of you were always friendly, since you moved in across the street from him. Ezra before was even more exuberant, had a swagger about him, confidence in his own skin that is only just now trying starting to return. Ezra before would preen under your gaze if he caught you looking at him while he repainted his deck or put down mulch in his garden, Ezra now shrinks from your eyes. You can see the self-doubt seep in. The worry about his scars, that the loss of his arm makes him less, somehow. "I know," you say, "Maybe I just want an excuse to get handsy." He arcs an eyebrow at you, that brief flash of doubt replaced with his more familiar smug smirk. "Well, have at it, by all means," he says. You spray him with the sunscreen and start rubbing it in, smoothing over his freckled shoulders, down his upper arms, mindful of the tender skin at the end of his stump, the dips of his clavicles, his broad chest, littered in angry pink scars that shout in contrast to the rest of his skin. Punched indentations along his ribs where they'd stuck in tubes to drain the air and blood out of his collapsed lungs. You work your way down along his soft belly and back up his sides, a hissed intake of breathe and you stop. "Does that hurt?" "Nah. Tickles." "Mmm-hmmm. I'll have to remember that so I can use it to my advantage later." "Oh and I'm the menace," he says, his arm curls low around your hip, pulling you nearly flush with him, and you complete the motion, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him tight against you, your chin notched over his shoulder. Cee is creeping up the stairs with a battered plastic bucket in her hands. She shoots you a grin and you know exactly what she has in mind. You back up a little, cup Ezra's stubbled cheeks in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. "Surprise," you say and take a big step back. There's just time enough for that little furrow to start between his brows and then Cee dowses him, a whole bucket of seawater poured directly over his head. He splutters. His eyes go big and round. Cee is doubled over laughing. "Oh," he says, blinking salt water out of his eyes, "Oh that's it. Today's the day, Cee! I am going to drown you!" "Gotta catch me first, old man!" says Cee and pelts down the beach. You run after them, their bright laughter peals through the warm summer air. Ezra grabs Cee and dunks her into an oncoming wave. She emerges splashing great fans into Ezra's face. "It is only proper that I took my vengeance," says Ezra, holding his hands out to deflect the spray. "I don't think the Geneva conventions apply here, you douche-canoe," says Cee. "Oi! That language--" This is your opening. You grab Ezra around his waist and push off backward into the oncoming wave, pulling him down with you. The two of you come back up, coughing and laughing, arms slung around each other. There's no shadow in Ezra's eyes now, you press your lips to his, the waves roll over you, the tide dragging at your bodies while you and him remain still. Press of your lips to his, your tongue licks out and tastes salt on his lips and he opens for you, his hand cupping the back of your head, guiding you against him, his tongue stroking against yours, no battle for dominance, this, just the plush heat of his mouth, the heave of your chests when you finally break apart, waist deep in the ocean. "I--" says Ezra and Cee's splash hits at face level. "Gotcha!" she crows, and starts running. "You miserable little rat!" He hollers, chasing her through the surf. You stand hip deep in the water and laugh. You're not sure what you and Ezra are to each other. Lovers? Friends? Family? Whatever it this is, it feels right and good. It feels like being home.

A/n: Here is a sampling of Cee’s beach trip playlist:

“I Want To Go To The Beach” by Iggy Pop

“Telstar” by The Tornados

“Cake By The Ocean” by DNCE

“Rockaway Beach” by The Ramones

“Misirlou” by Dick Dale and his Del-Tones

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra and cee #prospect au #prospect contemporary AU

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awhitehead17 · 4 years ago

Text

My Best Friend’s Brother

Jason & Tim, TimKon, Robin!Jason, Stray!Tim, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Humour, Teasing, Blushing, Friendship.

Summary: Jason thinks they could work together, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there. Making a decision he starts making plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

A/N: This is an AU where Jason is Robin and Tim is Stray. All you probably need to know is that Jason is with Tim's Titan's team, (he hasn't died), also that Jason and Kon are best friends. This is crossing off 'Villainous Crush' from my Batfam bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“I don’t think I can do that.” Robin says shaking his head as he stares at the security footage in front of him. “I mean I’m good, don’t get me wrong, but that is beyond my capabilities.”

“What do you propose then?” Wonder Girl questions him with a frown. “Who else is there that has the ability to bypass security as tight as Luthor’s undetected?”

Robin crosses his arms and gets thinking. The security they need to get pass is top level and the most advanced stuff Jason has ever seen. They’ve been able to hack into the cameras but that’s as far as they had manged, beyond that was just a dead end and none of them could do it.

What they need to do is access a hidden vault underneath Lexcorp because it’s storing away some crucial files full of delicate information. What that information is Jason wasn’t sure, however when Superman gave them the mission he made it quite clear that is was to be done asap.

One person soon comes into mind. This particular person could have the skill to get pass the security where they can’t, who would be able to sneak their way around everything without getting caught but was also skilful enough with technology that they could hack into the system if needs be.

He’d rather not ask them for help but really it’s the only option he can think of. With a sigh, Robin turns to Wonder Girl. “I know someone, so leave it to me. As much as I hate to admit it, they probably could get through the security and laugh about it at the end.”

She raises an eyebrow and demands, “Who?”

--------

“My, my little birdie, it’s been a long time! Did you miss me?”

Their voice comes out sounding rather distant from the phone’s speaker, almost like they were outside. Despite how quiet it sounded, there was no mistaking the teasing tone behind their words.

Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally counting down from 5 before responding. “It has been a long time Stray. I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

“Of course I haven’t! Who do you take me for?” Stray says with a disbelieving snort, like he couldn’t believe Jason just asked that question.

The present Titans were all gathered around the kitchen table with Jason’s phone in the centre of it, currently on speaker to the costumed vigilante called Stray. Jason glances at his team mates to see most of them raising eyebrows at Stray’s words, Cassie’s face was stony cold, like she absolutely loathed this idea. Jason wasn’t a fan either, but it’s all they got.

Jason knows who Stray really is, but his team doesn’t. Stray was Gotham born and bred, they met on the rooftops and bonded (Jason may or may not have become protective of him during that time, not that he could help it). They’ve stayed in touch and occasionally help one another out when needs be, hopefully Stray will be willing to help Jason on this occasion.

Before he could say anything more, Stray’s voice was coming through the speakers again, this time louder like he has stopped and actually put his phone to his ear to talk into. “I’m guessing this isn’t a pleasure call Robin, which is a shame. What do you want?”

“I – we, the Titans – need your help with something if you’re willing. Are you available in the next day or so?”

“Hmmm, it depends. I may be free to help you, that is saying if I even want to help you, however I may not be. What is it?”

Jason rubs a hand across his head feeling frustrated. Stray really isn’t making this easy. “By passing security in Lexcorp to get to a vault. We won’t be able to do it without triggering the alarms, you on the other hand may be able to. If you agree then I’ll meet you and share the deets, if not then it’ll be until next time.”

There’s a moment of silence, as if Stray is thinking through his options. After a few beats his voice comes through the phone again, “If I do agree to help you, what’s in it for me? Jewels or money? Perhaps some of that nice fancy tech Luthor happens to have laying around all the time? A date with my favourite birdie?”

Jason ignores his friend’s wide-eyed looks and focuses only on the phone, “We can discuss that afterwards. Are you in: Yes or no?”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Stray agrees sounding sort of resigned, “message me where you want to meet and I’ll be there. See you soon birdie!”

Jason doesn’t bother with a good-bye, he simply reaches over to grab the phone and hangs up. Still ignoring his friends expressions he tells them, “I’ll arrange a meeting with Stray for this evening and make a plan from there. I’ll keep all of you updated as I go.”

After that he leaves the kitchen and ignores the questions being fired at his back in favour of retreating to his room. He really hopes it wasn’t a mistake contacting Stray.

It was early next morning when he meets with Stray. They meet down by the San Francisco docks away from any cameras, any prying eyes and in complete privacy.

Jason stands waiting around with the trained patience that’s been drilled into him from his early days as Robin. That’s the only reason on why he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing with restlessness, unlike his companion who’s decided to tag along with him.

To his side Superboy paces a few feet backwards and forwards with boredom, sometimes he walks it and sometimes he floats it. Jason wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it was rather amusing to watch.

When Jason announced his meeting time with Stray, Superboy insisted on coming, stating that someone else should tag along just in case something happens. Jason had wanted to protest but the Kryptonian looked determined to come and he couldn’t remember the last time he and Kon had actually been alone together. Considering they’re supposed to be best friends, they don’t actually hang out a lot.

Kon lets out a huff and comes to stand by his side. The half-Kryptonian crosses his arms and looks around impatiently. “Where is he? He’s supposed to be here by now right?”

Just for his own amusement, Jason doesn’t bother pointing out that Stray has actually been around for the last 10 minutes, simply hiding in the shadows watching them. He’s surprised that Kon didn’t pick Stray up with his enhanced powers.

“You should come over sometime man,” Jason says conversationally instead. “It’s been a while.”

Kon’s scowling expression turns into something softer at the mention of hanging out, he sends Jason a smile, “That’ll be good yeah. I’ll have to kidnap you at some point and take you to the farm, Ma’s been asking about ya.”

Jason shoots him a small smile. He likes the farm and always enjoys visiting the Kent’s, a weekend away doesn’t sound too bad actually.

Deciding he’s had enough, Jason turns to a shadowed covered alley nearby. “Alright Stray, enough is enough, come on out. We have business to deal with.”

He ignores Kon’s squawk of surprise in favour of watching Stray saunter towards them. The vigilante was dressed in his full gear which consisted of a tight dark grey leather suit (which could easily rival Dick’s Nightwing spandex) from the neck to his legs, flexible black boots and gloves, a small black belt tied around his waist with a whip hanging loosely from it, on his head were two cat ears and sliver googles with black lenses covering his eyes.

He has no idea how Stray wears the suit, it contours every muscle he has and seems like its going to rip if he stretches just that little bit too much. It never does and Stray wears it without an inch of discomfort.

Stray walks up to them, and Jason certainly doesn’t miss the way he eyes Kon up and down, until he’s a couple feet away. He smiles widely, showing his teeth. “Hello boys. How’s it going?”

Under his domino mask, Jason rolls his eyes, pointedly ignoring the almost flirtatious tone being used. Next to him Kon was staring wide eyed at Stray, barely moving a muscle.

In that moment he knows something was up, this here was the start of something. With the way Stray had his head tilted just to the side so he could look at Superboy (Jason couldn’t see his eyes but he’s known Stray long enough to know his tell-tales) and the way Kon was openly staring without a care in the world.

Jason very loudly, and obnoxiously, clears his throat to gain their attention. “Matters to attend to thank you very much. Important files we need to steal before they land into the wrong hands. Remember that?”

They both turn and blink at him but otherwise don’t say anything. Rolling his eyes Jason digs through his utility belt and brings out a small electronic tablet which he presents to Stray.

“This is the security we need you to break past.” Robin tells him. “There's a vault at the end, we haven’t yet worked out what kind it is but chances are that you’ll probably know how to break it anyway. What do you think?”

Handing Stray the tablet seems to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into while staring at Superboy. He grabs the thing out of Robin’s hand and studies it. Jason patiently waits, knowing he’s studying the black and white security footage, going over what is visible to the eye before looking deeper and finding all the hidden secrets.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Stray declares handing the tablet back to him after a moment.

Jason raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? So you’ll do it?” He honestly hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“Send me a copy of that footage and the details of the building, from there I should be able to get in and out. I can have the files you apparently need by sunset tomorrow, or today if you want to get technical.”

“What do you want for it?” Robin questions suspiciously. There’s always a catch somewhere.

There's a pauses as Stray looks Kon up and down once more before turning to him with a wicked smirk, “Keep it open as an IOU. Once I’ve decided I’ll let you know gorgeous.”

Without further words, Stray turns and disappears back into the shadows like he was never there in the first place. Jason takes a deep breath and shakes his head, that kid he swears…

The silence soon catches up to him and he shoots Kon a look. His best friend was still staring at the recently vacated spot. Jason waves a hand in front of his face. “Kon?”

Kon blinks and finally turns to him, as if coming back online. “That was Stray?”

“Yes, that was Stray. The annoying little brat I call my younger brother who I reluctantly asked for help because it boosts his ego like nothing else. Why, didn’t you know who he was?”

“Yeah, I, uh I-” Kon stutters for a moment as if looking for the right words. “I’ve heard of him but never seen him until now. That was him? How old is he? Is he even legal? Did you see those hips, jeeze… wait you said little brother, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!”

Putting the tablet back in his belt, Jason turns and starts walking away, heading back for the Tower since it was late. Kon rushes to meet his stride and together they walk.

“He’s a younger brother I never asked for, not by blood but in every other way that counts. We met on the streets in my early days as Robin, much to my annoyance I came to care for the little brat and here we are years later. We occasionally help one another out when needs be.”

Kon gapes at him for a moment before spluttering out a question. “What’s with the leather? I mean I get you bats and your spandex but leather? There’s no way that’s comfy, and with how much it shows…”

Jason scowls at his friend, feeling a little protective. “Don’t perve on Stray -”

“I’m not perving!”

“- he just likes to flirt. He gets kicks out of everyone around him being a blushing mess.”

What Jason doesn’t mention is that Stray is only that confident in the suit. Outside of being Stray, the kid behind the persona is nothing but shy, sweet and innocent (if a little annoying).

Kon seems to have nothing else to say after that, if he does he keeps any other thoughts to himself so the rest of the journey back to the Tower was quiet and uneventful.

The next day a small box parcel appears on the Tower’s doorstep. After scanning it and triple checking that it wasn’t any kind of bomb, they open it up to find the files they had been after from underneath Lexcorp. All that there was in the box beside the files, was a sticky note with a handwritten message on it saying: Remember birdie, IOU, I’ll let you know what I want gorgeous.

Upon reading that Jason sighs and shakes his head. He mentally curses out Stray for putting him in the awkward position of explaining to his team that no he and Stray were not in any kind of relationship and how Stray just likes to flirt with everyone.

Jason quickly explains why they’ve never met the vigilante before, that reason being because Stray was also a thief and can be unpredictable at times. Despite Jason’s brotherly relationship with the brat it’s still a risk to work with him, he never wanted to get Stray involved with the Titan’s from the beginning.

After some more questioning his teammates seem to eventually accept the explanation and leave the matter be. However, Kon wouldn’t let it go, he kept pestering Jason for more information. Did Jason know who he really was? What was his age? Why was he a thief? Would he want to join the Titan’s anyway? Was he single?

Jason glared at his friend for that question and refused to tell him anything.

--------

It turns out it wasn’t too long until Kon ended up meeting Stray again. A couple weeks after the Lexcorp mission, Kon decided to stop by Gotham to hang out with Jason only for them to come across a battered, bruised and bleeding vigilante later on.

Jason was on patrol when Kon found him, and not having the heart to tell his best friend to go away (who cares about Bruce’s no meta’s rule anyway?) he let Kon tag along for the rest of the night. Once they were finished the plan was to go back to the Manor to chill with some video games and some of Alfred’s delicious snacks.

It had been going well as they had stopped several muggings, a few drug deals, a couple of lurking johns and even a small gang war. It wasn’t until they were about to head home when their plans suddenly changed.

From where they had been in an alleyway, sudden gunshots could be heard from nearby. Not wasting a second, Kon lifts up off the ground, grabs Jason’s outstretched hand and flies them over the building into the alley on the other side.

They get their just in time to see a body fall backwards onto the ground and someone making a run for it at the entrance of the alley. Without even speaking, Jason instantly rushes over towards the fallen body while Kon goes after the runner.

To Jason’s surprise its Stray he finds lying there on the ground groaning with his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder.

Diving into his utility belt for medical resources, Jason hisses. “What the hell did you get yourself into Stray? You idiot.”

His voice seems to get Stray’s attention. The kid gives him a pained smile, “Just y’know, an average night. Fuck.” After a moment he seems to remember something because he’s bolting up into a sitting position and looking around frantically. “Where is he!”

Jason pushes Stray back down and keeps him still with a hand on his chest. Ignoring the weak struggles and protests, Jason examines what he can of Stray’s wound. He could see that the bullet is still in his shoulder but he can’t say if it’s hit anything vital. They’ll have to get him back to the cave for scans and proper treatment. In the meantime, Jason slaps a bandage over the wound and keeps pressure on it.

“Robin to the cave, anyone there?” He says into his comm.

While he waits for a response Superboy appears with an unconscious body in his hands, that being the man who had made a run for it moments ago.

“This is Agent A, Robin. How can I assist you?”

“I’m with Stray, he’s just taken a bullet to the shoulder and it’s still in there. I’m bringing him back to the cave, can you get the medical bay ready? ETA 10 minutes.”

After getting off the comms he turns to Superboy who’s body posture was awkward but his eyes were trained on Stray’s limp body. “Superboy.”

It takes a moment but Kon seems to snap out of the trance. “Huh? Sorry. The police are on their way, what shall I do with…” he gestures to the unconscious man still in his grasp.

Jason huffs as he quickly digs out a pair of handcuff from his belts and tosses them to Kon. “Tie him to the lamp post. I need your help with Stray.”

Kon does just that and reappears at his side seconds later. “We’re taking him to the cave, I want you to carry him there and keep pressure on that wound. The bullet’s still in there. Agent A will be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t wanna go to the cave… I’m fine….” Stray mutters from his position on the ground. His words are beginning to slur and his movements are sloppy.

Kon hesitates. “What about Batman?”

Jason waves his concern off. “Don’t worry, I can deal with him. Now go before anything else happens. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Jason makes it to the cave a lot later than what he would have liked. He had to wait around for the police, explain to them what had happened before he could finally start making his way home.

By the time he got the cave, Stray was already trying to leave and was arguing with Alfred about his condition, while Kon was standing to the side looking awkward and unsure on what to do. Stray was currently only dressed in the bottom half of his suit, leaving his torso and bandaged shoulder for everyone to see. Much to Jason’s surprise, he didn’t even have his ears or goggles on which helped conceal his identity.

As Jason walks from the garage to the medical bay, he observes the scene. It was rather amusing to watch the younger boy try to argue to Alfred why he’s fine and doesn’t have to stay the night to be observed and how he’s continued on with much worse. Stray is fighting a losing battle and they all know it.

Kon, on the other hand, was rather interesting to observe. The meta was standing in the medical bay but to the side, watching the scene before him with wide eyes. While the Kryptonian seemed to be in shock, Jason could also see how Kon’s eyes run over Stray’s body, the way they linger at his chest before moving up to stare at his identifiable face.

Jason is pretty sure Kon doesn’t know who Stray really is. He has made it clear that he’s attracted to Stray and is curious enough to want to know more about the thief but beyond that he’s never done anything about it. On the other side of the coin, he knows Stray is eyeing up Kon in a similar fashion. Behind the flirtiness, he’s a shy boy who wants to get to know Superboy more and secretly gets flustered at the thought of the meta.

Perhaps Jason needs to introduce them on a more solid and neutral ground? Stray is like a brother to Jason and Kon is his best friend, would they even work? Does he want to start something like that between them, or simply help them get their shit together so he doesn’t have to be stuck in the middle anymore?

He’ll have to have a think about it.

“You are staying the night and that is final!” Alfred declares firmly to Stray who was now pouting from his position on the medical bed.

Jason snorts as he enters the room and goes to Stray’s side. Poking the younger boy in the ribs, he says, “Look, it’s just for one night. We can hang out, have a good catch up while we play crappy video games and sleep until noon tomorrow. Then you can go.”

The glare he receives makes Jason cackle. Once he’s calmed down he glances at Alfred, “Thanks for patching him up Al!”

Alfred merely smiles and starts bustling about to get everything cleaned up. He turns to Stray next, pointing a finger at him, “I’ll see you upstairs in a moment. I’m just going to walk Superboy out of here.”

He turns to Kon to find his friend still staring at Stray. Rolling his eyes, Jason clicks his fingers in the meta’s face and grabs his attention. He cocks his head to the side and starts leaving the medical bay, “Let’s go lover boy!”

Kon stutters for a moment before rushing to catch up and he grins when he sees Kon’s flushed face. Jason walks with Kon to the end of the cave, thanking him for his help that night but also apologising that their plans to hang out weren’t happening. He does a rain check for when he’s next at the Tower and promises that they’ll spend time together while he’s there. Looking a little sullen, Kon nods his understanding but doesn’t push the matter. He takes off up in the air and quickly disappears into the night sky.

As he heads back, Jason starts making mental plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

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

“So what was it that you needed to do again?” Kon questions him as they climb a fourth set of stairs.

Jason glances over his shoulder from where he was ahead of Kon, guiding them through the apartment building they were currently in. “I got a message late last night from a friend, asking me to pick something up from his place. Figured I’d stop by while out with you since we were passing through the neighbourhood.”

“Makes sense.” Kon comments a moment later.

They don’t talk again until they were standing outside an old wooden, beaten door after climbing six flights of stairs. Jason knocks on the door and patiently waits for the occupant to open it up.

“This friend of yours,” Kon drawls looking at him, “are you guys close?”

Does he know about your night activities? Jason picks up the double meaning of the question. He smiles at Kon and says, “We’re actually really close, yeah. But sorry about this, it shouldn’t take too long.”

He doesn’t mention to Kon that in fact this was all planned by him. The message to come and collect something from his friend was planned, because Jason in fact purposely left said item here the other night just so he would get the message. Meeting up with Kon and having him come along just out of ‘coincidence’ was all part of it too.

A sound coming from the door opposite them gains their attention. They both turn to it as they hear locks clicking and a chain being rattled. Soon enough it opens up to reveal a small teenager dressed in an oversized hoddie and leggings.

“Hey Tim, how’s it going?” Jason asks with more enthusiasm than necessary.

It was like he was watching it all in slow motion, that moment when the kid opposite him realises exactly what Jason has done. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open at the realisation of it before his expression becomes dark where his eyebrows drop, his eyes glaring daggers at Jason and his lips pressed into a tight thin line.

While Tim glares at him, and is probably imagining the most painful way he could kill Jason, Jason turns to Kon just in time to see his best friend also click onto what he’s done. Kon’s expression goes to one of shock as his eyes flicker between Tim and Jason.

“Wait, you’re uh, you’re-”

Kon doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying because Tim was suddenly hissing at Jason. “You asshole Jason!”

Tim backs away from the door and promptly goes to slam it shut and it’s only thanks to his quick reactions that Jason catches the door before it hits the doorframe. He barges his way into the apartment and turns to Tim grinning at him. Tim wasn’t paying attention however, the kid was now glaring at Kon who stared back and slowly inched his way into the apartment. Despite Kon being invulnerable and one of the most powerful people on the planet, he seemed rather intimated by Tim.

Once they were both indoors, Tim then slams the door shut with a loud bang. Crossing his arms over his chest he turns to Jason with a scowl. “What is the meaning of this? You of all people know how important identities are!”

Jason hums and starts wondering around the small apartment. He leaves the hallway they had been in and adventures into the joint living room and kitchen area. It was there on the coffee table that he sees the files he purposely left behind the other night.

Tim marches in behind him with Kon following soon after. “What the hell are Selina or Bruce going to say about this?”

That makes Jason blink and pause. He hadn’t thought about that. Oops. He shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I can work around them.”

“How? How are you going to get around one of the best thief’s and the world’s greatest detective?”

Jason doesn’t answer, mostly because he doesn’t actually know. Thankfully he’s saved from any more scolding from Tim because his best friend speaks up.

“So your name is Tim?” Kon suddenly asks from his spot by a sofa. The meta still had this wide-eyed look on him, like he really couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yes.” Tim snaps at him. “You better not tell anybody either!”

Jason forces the smirk off his face as he sees the kid blush red. He knows this is about to get interesting and is more than happy to watch how this plays out between them.

“Really though? Tim? Tim is Stray, the cat thief who likes to wear skin-tight leather while on the job and oversized jumpers in his downtime.”

Tim’s glare hardens and it looks like he wants to deck Kon there and then.

“Just because you’re invulnerable doesn’t mean that I still can’t hurt you!” Tim threatens Kon, with a pointed finger to emphasise his point.

For someone who had been intimated by the person now threatening him, Kon now looks completely unperturbed. It was like learning his name was ‘Tim’ made him less terrifying. “Uh huh…” Kon hums looking at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

Tim enters Kon’s space and pokes him in the chest to make a point. “I will throttle you.”

“And I bet you’ll like that, wouldn’t you?” Kon grins, winking at Tim.

Jason couldn’t help but snort at Tim’s face. If his shocked expression in the hallway was golden, his shocked expression now was totally palatium. It’s like Kon flirting with him has made Tim freeze and buffer, like he doesn’t know how to handle it or what he should do next.

Tim was speechless and Jason laughs at the sight. However he does wonder where Kon suddenly found the confidence to flirt with Tim, especially since he seemed so unsure at the start. He knows Kon’s had his time with beach babes in Hawaii, but this is slightly different.

After several beats it seems like Tim finally comes back online because he’s suddenly shouting, “Get out, now. That’s it! Get out, the both of you!”

Jason was still laughing, even more so because Tim is now as bright as a tomato. “What, don’t like the tables being turned Timmy? Receiving the flirting and not giving it for a change?”

He didn’t even see Tim move, so when the kid is suddenly in his space and shoving his files into his hands, Jason stumbles backwards a couple steps to keep his balance. Seconds later hands start shoving him out towards the hallway and towards the front door.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay,” Jason resigns. He’s had his fun and embarrassed Tim enough for one day. He walks out of the apartment and into the corridor of the building, seconds later Kon joins him. When the door slams shut behind Kon, they share a look and burst out laughing.

They don’t talk as they exit the building, both of them giggling right up until they’re out on the street and back out in public.

Kon takes a breath to control himself and shoots Jason a sideward glance as they walk down the street. “Dude, what was that all about?”

There were so many hidden questions within that one question. Jason picks them all up easily. Why did you blow his secret ID? Why did you take me there? What are you up to? He doesn’t answer any of them. Instead he snorts in disbelief and waves a hand around. “Oh please, I’ve done you both a favour.”

From there he refuses to answer any of Kon’s queries on what just happened. Things were building up between the two of them, Jason’s simply helping to jump start things along. After seeing them in there earlier, he thinks they could work, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there.

He’s got his own questions he wants to ask Kon, like where did that confidence suddenly come from? What happened to being intimidated by Tim? Before he starts grilling his best friend however, he figures he’d give Kon some time to mull over what happened today and then he’d pin him down to get some answers.

--------

Jason was done for the day. All he wanted to do in that moment was go to his room, have a long hot shower before changing into some comfy clothes and climbing into bed to sleep for the next three days.

But no, he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t allowed to do that because he had to go and find Kon, who was in the Tower somewhere, and get his report he failed to hand in after the latest mission. Cassie was getting on his back about Kon’s tardiness and it was getting on his nerves. Jason wants to argue that he’s not Kon’s babysitter! Why should it be him who has to chase the half-Kryptonian for reports he’s responsible for?

Either way he’s on his way to Kon’s room in the Tower, figuring that if Kon wasn’t in the kitchen (he wasn’t) then he would most likely be in his bedroom. When Jason reaches the right door, he taps his knuckles against it and lets himself in, he only happens to walk two steps in before he’s freezing on the spot because of what he’s seeing.

There on Kon’s bed were two figures in what seems to be an intimate position. Jason could see Kon on his back on the mattress (thank god he was fully clothed!) with his head propped up by some pillows. Above him with his legs on either side of Kon’s hips, was a familiar smaller figure dressed up in tight leather.

The two of them were currently playing tonsil hockey as hands roamed each other’s bodies. It wasn’t until a low moan comes from one of them that Jason comes back to himself and actually registers what he was seeing.

“What the fuck!”

The two figures startle at his outburst and split apart. Tim sits fully upright and looks his way while Kon blinks owlishly at him from his position on the bed. All three of them stare at one another for several long beats, waiting for someone to break the heavy silence.

In the end it was Jason, repeating his outburst. “What the fuck!”

“Oh hey birdie. Enjoying the show?” Tim smirks at him. He didn’t have his ears or goggles on meaning Jason could see his face. Meaning Jason could see how amusing this all was to him.

Kon on the other hand seemed to be on the other end of the scale. He brings his hands up to cover his face with embarrassment and groans. “This is not how I wanted you to find out!”

“Find out what?” Jason scoffs disbelievingly. “That you and Tim are finally boning?”

“Well technically we haven’t gotten that far, yet.” Tim drawls out, stroking a teasing finger along Kon’s chest.

“Right.” Jason says. Deciding that he’s seen enough, he starts to turn around so he could leave. “Well have fun, use protection and Kon, Cassie wants that report done asap.”

Just as he was about to shut the door, Tim speaks up and Jason shoots him an unimpressed look for making him stay longer than what was necessary. “Why are you acting like that? You wanted to get us together to begin with anyway. Did you want to join in?”

Jason blinks and takes a moment to comprehend what he’s just been asked. “No! What the fuck? That's my best friend there and you’re like my brother you flirtatious asshole! And yes I was trying to set you two up but that doesn’t mean I want to see it!”

Before anything else could happen Jason makes a quick exit. Unfortunately he still wasn’t quick enough because he hears Tim shout “You know where we are if you change your mind!” just before he shuts the door.

He shakes off what he just heard and tries to erase those images from his mind. He blames Cassie. If she didn’t want that stupid report then he would have never walked into Kon’s room and seen that. It could have been worse where they were naked but that’s not the point!

Well, he knew something was going to happen between the two of them and now they’ve finally gotten their shit together. Once Jason’s done getting over it, he’ll interrogate Kon all about it later on. They’re best friends, he deserves to know all the nitty gritty details and how dare he leave Jason in the dark.

Stray on the other hand wouldn’t actually tell him anything, either because of embarrassment or out of spite, it would depend on what mood he was in on the day.

It looks like he’ll be having quite interesting conversations with two people very soon.

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Kon-El #timkon #robin!jason #stray!tim #alternate universe #flirting #blushing #friendship #teasing #humour #fanfiction #batfam bingo 2019 #villainous crush #kinda #injury #innuendo

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tiny-maus-boots · 4 years ago

Text

Queen of Hearts pt 10

10. Stacked Deck

“You’re really alright?”

Stacie smiled and dipped her head in a slight nod. The last few hours of her life had been a rollercoaster of unexpected emotions and events but by far the most unexpected was this. Helene gave her daughter’s arm a gentle squeeze before hesitatingly pulling her into an awkward but heartfelt embrace. It was the first in a long time that actually felt…unscripted.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Really.” It wasn’t the ideal introduction to her life that she’d wanted for her mother but it was what it was. Stacie shook her head a little and pulled back so she could look her mother in the eye. “We’re going to be fine.”

“I wasn’t asking about Aubrey.” There was a decidedly crisp tone there, shattering the tender hope that maybe things might be okay and Stacie felt the muscles in her back tighten in anticipation of what was coming. Her arms dropped away in from the short-lived hug. “Aubrey is not my child. You are.”

“No but she’s a part of my life and she’s going to be my wife, mom.” Stacie sighed and shook her head realizing that to continue would only bring a fight she didn’t have the energy for. Especially when all she wanted to do was go home with Aubrey and find out what happened. “You know what…never mind. Thank you for your concern but you don’t need to worry about it.”

She started to turn back to get in the car when Helene pulled her back with a desperate grasp. “Wait…”

“For what? I know how you feel already.”

“No, you do not. That has always been your problem Anastacia, you are so brilliant and observant that you think you know everything! Admittedly, you’re correct an irritating amount of the time but you do not know everything. Don’t presume to know what even I do not.”

Helene took a breath and settled her posture in a camera-ready pose. It was a habit so deeply ingrained that she doubted her mother was aware of it. She gave a nod of apology and Helene let the rigidity of her spine relax.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about me but…”

“I don’t have to be. Yes. You’ve said.” The older woman took a step forward and sighed softly. “I came looking for insight into your life. That old adage of be careful what you wish for suddenly rings truer than ever before.”

Stacie chuckled and nodded her head. “Yeah. Today was a lot. Thank you for coming with me to the station. It meant a lot to me that you were there. Maybe I don’t know how you feel about things but I know what all this looks like.”

Silence swallowed them up as her mom considered her next words. “It looks to me that you care about Aubrey very much.”

“I do.”

“It also looks like she cares very deeply for your happiness.” Her head came up quickly in question but Helene gave no further explanation as she went on. “Politically speaking this could ruin your father’s career and standing within the party.”

“Spoken like the wife of a Senator.”

A small smile graced Helene’s face making her eyes soften. “Speaking as a mother…I worry that this life will put you in physical danger.” Stacie’s brows came up and she opened her mouth to speak but Helene raised a hand to stop her from saying what they both already knew. “I know. Perhaps too little, too late. What I am saying is that…I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I failed you in many ways Anastacia, I don’t want to fail you again.”

Oh. It was hard to hear that, perhaps because she’d always wanted to hear some kind of acknowledgment that her mother ever cared about her at all. She’d been holding on to a resentment knowing this moment would never come, so sure that her mother had given up all real maternal feelings for her the moment the umbilical cord had been cut. And now she didn’t know what to do with the feelings she never thought she’d have to let go. It was going to take her some time to unpack all of that and process it.

“Can you be happy for me?”

It was the only question that actually mattered at the moment. What she needed from her mom wasn’t a protector. Not anymore anyway. What she needed was support. Some kind of affirmation that no matter what her mom would be a part of her life even if some aspects of it caused her to worry.

“Will it undo our tentative truce if I say I’m trying?”

Stacie smiled and wrapped her arms around her mom in a tight hug. It wasn’t a rousing yes, and she didn’t expect it to be. But it was honest and real and that was enough for her. Helene stiffened for a second then retuned the hug with a gentle squeeze. It wasn’t totally okay and they both knew that. Life wasn’t a sitcom where differences were resolved with a heartwarming hug and a cued laugh track. But there was a new understanding between them. Maybe now they could start rebuilding the bridge they burnt down so many years before.

An hour and a half later she was still replaying the conversation in her head. Aubrey unlocked the door and pushed it open before glancing inside and stepping in. Stacie was right on her heels, lost in thought and unprepared for the arm that shot out across her chest to keep her from walking in further. Keen green eyes searched the interior of the entry as she reached to the small of her back and pulled her gun from its holster.

“Stay close.”

Stacie nodded and placed a hand on Aubrey’s back, following her in past the stairs and into the living room. The blonde stopped abruptly with a growl and put her gun away before stepping into the entrance of the large room. Stacie edged behind her fiancée and poked her head around the other woman’s shoulder only to see Detective Mitchell in all her smirky glory lounging on Aubrey’s white leather couch with her motorcycle boots propped up on the glass topped coffee table.

“Hey, Daddy. How was the pokey?”

“I swear to Christ, Mitchell…one of these days I’m going to shoot you. Get your damn feet off my table.”

Detective Mitchell grinned widely and lowered her feet to the ground. “Sorry. You’ll be happy to know that your lawyer filed a restraining order against our department but I don’t know if that will stop the Feds.” Aubrey nodded and moved to the mini bar to pour them all a drink. “Water for me, thanks.”

Stacie and Aubrey looked at each other in surprise then glanced at the small brunette. Aubrey shrugged and grabbed three bottles of water from the mini fridge. Had it been anyone else neither of them would have batted an eye at the request but it was Beca. She never turned down a drink.

“How did Agent Esposito take the news that LAPD is backing off?”

Beca took the water bottle and shrugged. “Well I’m pretty sure she’s possessed cause her head almost started spinning.” She took a sip of her water still smiling at the memory. “But I don’t know, Posen, we’re missing a beat somewhere. I talked to my guy at the Bureau and he seemed to think you’re just some low-level capo. I don’t think they were looking at you seriously.”

While she appreciated the visual, Stacie didn’t think Alice’s tantrum meant anything but more trouble despite Beca’s assessment of the FBI’s interest. Aubrey seemed to think so too because she nodded and settled herself on the couch next to the detective. “She’s like a dog with a bone. She’s not going to let this go if the Feds can really pull together a case.”

Stacie frowned at that as she settled into a chair. “How can they have a case, no one knows anything and Weston is dead.”

Aubrey sighed deeply and leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. “They have images of me boarding Whitman’s boat. It’s not enough but it gives them wiggle room to try and find something else.”

She knew there had to be something; they wouldn’t have pulled Aubrey in if there wasn’t. But Stacie hadn’t been prepared for actual hard evidence. It left her struggling to figure out how that fit in with their life and future plans. Detective Mitchell gave a low whistle and shook her head.

“It’s bad yeah, but not the worst. Circumstantial at best and I’ve seen street thugs get out with more on them than that.” There was a bitter edge to Mitchell’s voice as she stood and headed for the door. “I’ll see if I can find out exactly what they have on you. Not that I can do anything about it but at least it gives you a place to start cleaning up.”

“Something bigger is going on, it feels like a stacked deck. Watch your ass, Bec.”

“See, Daddy? I knew you liked me.”

“Gun is still loaded, Mitchell. Call me Daddy one more time and see what happens.”

Stacie watched the detective smirk and make her way to the door in the kitchen to sneak off the property. The second the door shut she turned her gaze on Aubrey. The other woman had a faraway look as she pondered everything she had learned that day. The brunette moved from the chair to straddle her fiancée’s lap.

“You weren’t kidding about what our life could be like.”

Aubrey searched her face for a long time and Stacie suspected she was looking for any sign that this was going to break them. Stacie smiled gently and smoothed the wrinkle of worry in the blonde’s brow. This was new and a little bit scary but it wasn’t even close to changing how she felt about the other woman or any of her plans to get married.

“Ready to run away yet?”

“Only if we’re running away together.”

The thread of tension that had been just under the surface released and Stacie slid her hands under Aubrey’s jacket and over her shoulders to slip it off. Running anywhere wasn’t on her list of things to do, and especially not running away from the only person that she truly felt safe with. There were a lot of unknowns in their life right now but what she did know what an immutable truth. She loved Aubrey Posen with every bit of her being and nothing was ever going to come between them. Not their exes or families, or even the FBI.

“You know you’re quite the woman, Ms. Conrad. Thanks for coming to my rescue today. How’d you know?”

“A tiny birdy with a big mouth.” The corners of Aubrey’s lips quirked in a grin and Stacie couldn’t help but kiss each corner. “You should give her a bonus.”

“Oh yeah? Got any other business ideas?”

“Tons.” Stacie smiled into the kiss Aubrey pulled her into. Warm hands trailed down her back in a promising caress. “We should have the wedding catered by Flo. The food is amazing and the price will be right. It’ll strengthen our business relationship by giving her a foothold to a new client base. And what makes her money, makes you money. Besides my mother loved her food.”

“You know I love it when you have ideas.” Aubrey nipped at her lip playfully, hands gripping her hips to pull Stacie in closer. “Speaking of your mom…that was surprising. How much does she hate me over this?”

“She dropped by the shelter and was there when Beca called. She’s not thrilled, Bree. But. I dunno. I need space from it for a bit. It was a lot.”

Her shoulder came up in a shrug and she leaned forward into Aubrey’s body. There was no pressure to talk about anything, just reassuring acceptance and it meant the world to Stacie. She wasn’t ready yet to sift through her feelings on Helene’s visit. The arms around her tightened comfortingly and she smiled against the soft skin of Aubrey’s neck.

“I think we both need a little space from this whole scene. Maybe we should take a trip back east.”

Stacie sat up and raised a brow in question. Aubrey never did anything without a good reason. “Why back east?”

Aubrey gave a half shrug, trying not to look as nervous as Stacie knew she suddenly was. “I was thinking it was time you met The Family.”

“Wow. Did not see that one coming.”

“I figured I got to meet yours…”

“Is this business family or…”

“A little of both. You’re not just gonna be one of the wives in the family, you’re my partner. I think it’s better they know from the start how it’s going to be from now on. And I have a feeling we’ll find the answers to some of our questions there.”

The confidence was exhilarating, and Stacie found herself inhaling deeply against the rise of arousal. Aubrey wasn’t asking anyone’s permission to include her in the business side of things. Either old school mafiosos had gotten a lot more progressive in their thinking or Aubrey didn’t expect to be challenged in any serious way. Stacie’s eyes narrowed slightly. Everyone had a boss they answered to and she didn’t think for one second that she would be accepted just because Aubrey said so. Unless.

“You’re not just ‘some low-level capo’ like Detective Mitchell’s Bureau buddy thinks, are you?”

Amused pale green eyes rose to meet hers as Aubrey gave her a sinfully cocky smirk. Whatever flimsy control she had over her arousal was battered away by the tidal wave of raw lust that slammed through her. Stacie slid her hand down over the blonde’s chest and pulled the silk tie free from the vest. She stood on legs already shaky with anticipation and tugged lightly to urge Aubrey up.

“I think you should take me to bed now, don’t you?”

Aubrey gave a soft grunt of agreement as she let herself be led by the tie. “Like I said, I love it when you have ideas.”

Later they could figure out everything from wedding plans to avoiding prison, right now however Stacie had more pressing needs.

#staubrey au #stacie conrad #aubrey posen #pitch perfect fic #tdc series

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years ago

Text

Make You Mine

Request: Bucky x reader where reader works as Tony's assistant/ works in the lab and is an introvert and is secretly in love with Bucky and decides to confess her feelings through a letter, and to sing a song for him through Tony's party (but being shy, tried to make a slight disguise

Warnings: language

Word Count: ~3600

A/N: Sorry this took a long time, but here it is... Thanks for the song recommendation @leniram1890 I can’t tag u for some reason :(

Your shoes squeaked on the marble floor in the Avenger’s tower lobby and your white lab coat fluttered behind you. You were fully aware of how the sound drew attention towards you and you couldn’t wait to seek shelter in an empty elevator.

Right before the doors slid shut, though, one person managed to join you. Tall, broad shoulders, and a metal arm, Bucky Barnes stood in an elevator with you and only you. You shrunk back into a corner, hugging the papers to your chest. If it were anyone else, you probably would have been fine, but you couldn’t help glancing over at Bucky every minute. Why the fuck did the tower have to be so tall?

“You don’t have to be scared of me, you know,” Bucky broke the silence and your heart jumped up to your throat.

“Oh, no, I’m not scared of you,” you sputtered. You should have stopped talking there, but of course, you didn’t. “Not in the way that you think, anyways. It’s not even you, really. It’s me. I’m just nervous about embarrassing myself because I can be awkward sometimes. Like now, so I’m just going to… stop talking. Oh, fuck me,” you muttered under your breath.

“Take me on a date first,” Bucky chuckled. How did he hear— oh, right. He was a super-soldier with superhuman hearing.

“No, I didn’t mean— shit. Really gotta stop talking.” You stared at your feet, your face burning.

“Don’t worry about it.” He was silent for a minute. “You’re Stark’s assistant right?” You smiled softly and nodded, sticking to your words of no longer speaking. “I’ve seen you around the tower and we’ve spoken a few times.”

You wouldn’t really call passing on a message as a real conversation, but at least he remembered you. Tony had hired you as his lab assistant right out of college. It was a well-paying job and the billionaire was a great boss. In the many years you had been working for him, Tony had naturally taken the role of a father figure. You knew of Bucky and Tony’s history, so you knew your boss would have some words about your crush.

When you finally reached your floor, you didn’t know if you were relieved that your embarrassment was about to end or if you were disappointed that Bucky would leave. You walked by him and off of the elevator, turning around one last time to smile and wave at the supersoldier.

“See you around, Bucky,” you managed to say.

“See you around, (y/n).”

The elevator doors slid shut just in time to hide the large grin that crossed your face. Bucky knew your name. You had to suppress a squeal that you knew you would never live down because Natasha was walking towards you.

Tony had hired you around the same time he had hired ‘Natalie Rushman,’ so you’ve been friends with Nat for a while. Unfortunately, it just made it easier for her to read you, and as much as you tried to play cool, she could tell something was up. You walked down the hall with her and she had the decency to wait until you made it to the lab to ask her questions.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” You placed the files on your desk and sat down, discreetly slipping a hand written letter into a drawer.

“Something happened with Bucky.”

“Bucky?” you scoffed. Nat knew about your not so small crush on the metal armed supersoldier, of course. You had told her because she was your friend, but also because she would have figured it out another way.

“Yes, Bucky. You have that faraway look in your eye that you always have after a Bucky encounter. I think you two were in the elevator together.”

“Why’d you ask if you already knew?”

“So tell me all the details.” Nat sat on the table.

“I was just in the elevator, he joined me. We were in there alone and I was awkward. The end,” you shrugged. “He knows my name, though,”

“It’s meant to be.”

“Oh, shut up.” You threw a pen at her, but the hero caught it. “Now, as much as I enjoy your company, I have to work.”

“Okay, okay.” Nat tossed your pen back to you and hopped down. “But one of these days you’re going to have to make a move. I’m getting sick of your yearning.”

“One, I’m never going to make a move and, two, I don’t fucking yearn.”

“Yes, you do.” Nat opened the lab door. “It’s exhausting.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yearning. You're a yearner. Yearny yearner.”

“Goodbye, Nat.”

She disappeared and you took a peak at a piece of paper on your desk.

🎶🎶

The lab was empty, your boss was off somewhere testing out his new suit designs so it was now or never. You took out a small drone you had been perfecting and folded up your handwritten note.

Dear Bucky,

I’m writing this because this is the only way to express the way I feel about you. I don’t think I’ll ever send this to you so you’ll never see this, but I think I love you. Damn, it feels so strange writing that. Even thinking it is weird, I’ve never felt this way before.

You’re an amazing person and I know you sometimes doubt that, but it’s true. You are kind to everyone. Your smile lights up any room and makes my day.

I wish I could say this to your face but I would be too scared nervous and awkward.

I just wanted to pull these words from my mind.

I love you.

~Someone Unimportant

You really wouldn’t have thought you were actually going to deliver this to Bucky, but after this morning’s events, you had a small surge of courage. Also you knew that if Nat found it, she would totally tell him.

The drone’s claw grasped the letter and you piloted it into the vents. You knew Bucky should be at training with Steve and that his room was connected to a vent outside of the lab. You kept an eye on your tablet while you guided the drone through the vents. When it reached Bucky’s room the drone slipped the paper through the grates before you directed it back to you.

You grabbed the drone out of the vent and darted back into the lab. A small laugh slipped past your lips. You felt lightheaded and your heart was racing, but there were no taking it back now.

🎶🎶

The smell of your lunch filled the kitchen. Music played from your headphones and you scrolled through your phone as you waited for the microwave to go off. A sudden tap on your shoulder caused you to spin around and rip out your earphones.

“Oh, my god, Bucky,” you gasped and placed your hand over your chest. “Don’t do that again. You scared me.”

“I thought I didn’t scare you?” Bucky asked but he had a smile on his face. It had been a day since your last encounter with him. A day since you had left the note in his room. The thought of him reading your confession made your face burn.

“You know what I mean.”

“What are you doing up here?”

“Someone broke the microwave downstairs and I have access to the upper levels because of Tony, so I just came here.”

“You should come up here more often. I like seeing you.”

“I like seeing you too,” you said slowly. Was that a stupid reply? Maybe.

“What are you listening to?” He nodded at your earphones.

“Just some music. A love song called ‘Make You Mine.’ Do you want to..?” You held out one earbud to Bucky.

He took it and you played the song. You paid close attention to his reaction at different parts. The chorus started to play and he smiled along with you. You had to stand near him, nearer than you ever had before, so that both of the earphones would stay in.

“It’s a good song,” he decided when it ended.

“I know it’s not really your vibe,” you chuckled.

“No, no I liked it.”

You were taking it as a compliment that Bucky hadn’t moved away from you yet.

“I smell food,” Clint announced when he walked into the kitchen. “What’s cooking? Oh, hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Clint,” you cleared your throat and stepped back.

“You know each other?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, through Natasha.” Nat had quickly introduced you to Clint and you became friends. Nevertheless, Clint obviously didn’t know about any boy drama.

“Has she been talking your ear off?” Clint rummaged through the fridge.

“We’ve been listening to some music, but I’m surprised that she hasn’t remained true to her vow of silence.”

“Vow of silence? Man, sometimes I couldn’t get her to stop talking. Sure, she was quiet at first, but once you brought up something she was passionate about, she would just keep going.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize the microwave went off,” you cut in and grabbed your food. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you,” Bucky replied, sounding almost… forlorn?

No, that’s just your hopeful mind searching for any possibility that he could like you back. You scampered back down to the lab and tried to focus on the report you were working on. Hours later, you had only completed a page and a half.

“Knock knock,” Nat’s voice drew your attention away from the page you’ve been staring at for the last hour. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” You shut your computer and rubbed your eyes. “I can’t focus at all. I need a break.”

“That’s why I’m here.” She sat on the table, mimicking the position she was in this morning. “A little birdy told me about an encounter in the kitchen.”

“You know what? I don’t really need that break.”

“Oh, come on. I know you want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” you groaned. You paused before speaking. How much detail should you tell her? “I was microwaving my food and Bucky showed up. We listened to some music until Clint showed up.”

“And were you mad about that?”

“I guess. Not really ‘mad’ but a little disappointed. When I left I thought Bucky sounded a bit sad to see me go, but I really think it’s just my imagination.”

“Why would you think it was your imagination?”

“Stop acting like a fucking therapist.” You sank into your desk chair. “It was my imagination because I don’t want to have stupid hope.”

“Clint said he heard it too,” Nat said nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit.”

“And why do you think it’s bullshit?” She pretended to take notes.

“Shut up. My break’s over. I need to get back to work.”

“What you need to do is confess your feelings for Bucky. You know the party Tony’s having tonight, right? Of course, you do. You’re his assistant, but anyways, I came up with the perfect plan.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” you muttered and opened your laptop only for Natasha to slam the lid closed.

“You’re going to go to the party and by the end of the night, I guarantee that you will be with Bucky.”

“I can’t go, I don’t like parties,” you tried to protest. “I won’t have any time to get ready. It starts in an hour.”

“I’m sure Tony, your boss, would want you to go to his party.”

“I can’t go,” you repeated. “I’m sure Tony, my boss, would want me to do my work.”

“Well, you can’t work if you don’t have your computer.”

Before you could react, Nat grabbed your laptop and ran out of the lab. It barely took you a moment to register what had just happened but in that time, Nat had almost made it to the stairwell. You bolted out of the lab in a feeble attempt to catch your friend. You made it to the stairwell and looked up and down to try to find Nat.

“Up here!” she called in a sing-song voice.

You looked up to see her red hair at least two stories above you.

“Motherfucker,” you swore and began to climb up the stairs, taking two at a time. “Nat, I will literally rip your fucking guts out.”

“You can try,” her voice echoed down to you and it was followed by a door closing.

You finally arrived at a residential floor. Nat’s room was here, so you left the stairwell. Your best guess would be that she would go to her room. Someone cleared their throat and you whirled around.

“We just keep running into each other today,” Bucky chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose we do,” you stuttered.

You could only imagine what you looked like. Out of breath, hair slightly wild.

“Nat,” you explained. “Nat took my computer.”

“That makes sense. Uh, are you going to the party later?”

“Well, if Nat doesn’t return my computer, I can’t do any work, which means she’ll force me to go.”

“I can understand. Steve always makes me go. Speaking of Steve, I have to go meet up with him. I hope I see you tonight.”

“Yeah, tonight.”

You watched him leave before storming into Nat’s room. Her room was suspiciously void of your computer. She walked out of her closet with a few dresses.

“It’s formal, right? Black tie and all that?”

“Um, yeah.” Might as well give up. You had the feeling you weren’t going to go back to work.

“I’ve created the perfect look for you. Oh, and don’t worry about timing, we’ll be fashionably late.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said but took the dress she handed you. One glance at it and you instantly knew you would not be able to wear it.

“Why not?” she asked when you told her that. “You haven’t even tried it on yet.”

“First, it’s a V neck and I cannot do V necks. Second,” you held the dress up to your body, “it’s too short.”

“Please, just try it on?”

“If those are deal breakers, try this one.”

It was a black, pleated, off the shoulder dress. The front came down to your lower thigh while the back ended past the back of your knee. You stared at it for a moment, trying to picture it on yourself.

“I’ll get the shoes that go with that.”

“But I didn’t say I chose this one.”

“Well, you have no choice now.” She sat you down and brought out her makeup. “This is my plan. Tony lets people use the mic every once in a while, so you’re going to sing.”

“That’s an instant veto on that plan,” you interrupted.

“You have a beautiful voice.” Nat powdered your face and you crinkled your nose.

“I regret telling you.”

“Do it. Do it. Do it,” she chanted.

“Nope. No singing. I honestly cannot sing in front of people. I’ll fucking throw up all over the crowd.”

“What if it’s not you?”

“What do you mean?” You narrowed your eyes at your friend while she dabbed lip gloss onto your lips.

“You know, like an alter-ego.” You began to protest but before you could say anything she continued, “Just hear me out. We get you a nice wig, and introduce you as… ‘Susan Pevensie.’”

“Seriously? Narnia?” You both rolled your eyes. “But wouldn’t that kinda defeat the purpose? I sing, what? A love song to Bucky?”

“No big dramatic change, just a wig. Maybe a bolder eye. That way, it’s not you, it’s… shit, I can’t think of a good name.”

“Hermione Granger? Katniss Everdeen?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Fine. Just a wig and makeup, though. I don’t need to be introduced to the stage.”

“You’re going along with it?” The excitement in her voice was obvious.

“What do I have to lose? I’ve pretty much accepted defeat already.”

“No, don’t think like that. You’re going to blow everyone’s fucking socks off tonight. Now go put on the dress. Don’t ruin the makeup!”

A few minutes later you walked out, the black dress and shoes on. Nat smiled and admired her work. She had donned another dress and had somehow completed her hair and makeup. A few wigs had been laid out on the bed.

“Pic one. I’m particularly drawn to this one.” She pointed to a long, maroon wig. You nodded silently. “Are you ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I might regret this.”

“You might not. Most people won’t notice unless you really fuck it up. They’ll most likely be focused on their conversations. And if they don’t there’s the ol’ picture everyone naked trick,” she winked.

“How inspiring.” You smoothed down the dress and looked in the mirror one last time. Nat did a good job in slightly altering your appearance. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

You walked down to the party together. It was already in full swing and you didn’t see anyone you knew. Your palms were clammy. The alcohol looked inviting but you couldn’t bring yourself to grab a drink. Who knew what you might do if you were drunk.

“Should I do it now?” you whispered to Nat.

“There’s no time like the present,” she replied before she vanished into the crowd.

“Fantastic,” you muttered under your breath. You had no other choice but to head to the stage. “H-hello, can I sing something?”

The man supervising the microphone looked at you and nonchalantly handed you the mic. “What song?”

What song? Brilliant question. What question? There was one song that instantly came to mind.

“Erm, do you have ‘Make You Mine’ by Us the Duo?”

He nodded silently and pointed you towards the stage. You walked towards the stage, tugging on your dress and fiddling with the mic. In addition to clammy hands, you were now shaking. How did you let Nat talk you into this again?

You stood in the center of the stage for a few seconds before the music began. Nat was right, people only glanced up at you before returning to their conversations. The soft strumming of the guitar began to play and you started to sing the words you knew by heart.

“If summer is for lovers, then consider me in love. I found the one, oh I found the one that I've been dreaming of.” You were still nervous and timid, matching the speed of the song. “If friends are what you're looking for, consider me a friend. But I'll break apart and take your heart before this story ends.” You looked around the room and spotted Bucky. His blue eyes locked onto yours. “This is the part where we fall in love.” You looked away as the song sped up. “Tonight I will make you mine. I will make you mine. I will make you mine. If you let me. If you let me.”

Somehow, you were able to finish the sing without fucking up. You stepped off the stage and handed the mic back to the guy. You awkwardly looked around.

“That was very nice,” a voice said behind you.

“Goddamn Bucky,” you gasped and spun around. “You’ve got to stop scaring me!”

“It’s kind of loud here, do you want to head somewhere?”

You nodded and followed him out to a balcony. The cool air felt fresh on your skin. You walked to the edge and looked over the edge, looking out at the city lights.

“Can I ask about the wig?” he smirked.

“It was Nat’s idea. Something about helping me to be less nervous.” You tugged the wig off and freed your natural hair.

“Did it help?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Well, whatever the case, you did amazing. You have a really nice voice.”

“Thanks. I usually don’t sing publicly.”

“I also really liked the song. I’m starting to think of it as our song.”

“We have a song, huh?” you smiled up at him.

The moon was high, and the sounds of the party were muted.

“You look really beautiful.” He took a step closer.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Sarge.”

“Thanks, but suits aren’t really my favorite thing.” He tugged on his sleeves.

“You always look good, Bucky,” the words came out as a whisper. “You have a nice smile.”

“You know, I got a letter the other day.”

“Oh, did you?” You looked away.

“Thank you for everything you’ve said.”

In a heartbeat, Bucky’s lips were on yours. His hands placed gently on your waist. You kissed him back with all the emotions you had been keeping inside you and ran your fingers through his hair.

The two of you separated for air and Bucky leaned down and rested his forehead on yours. You smiled and laughed long lightly.

“Honestly, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

“We can do it some more.”

You nodded and he pressed his lips to yours again. Unfortunately, you two weren’t able to get far because you were forced apart by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“We just came to tell you how well you sang,” Clint spoke first. Behind him Nat stood with a smirk on her face. Tony stood next to her, lips pursed, thinking. “But I’ll leave you to it.”

“I told you,” Nat winked before she too turned around and went back into the party.

“So,” Tony began. “Good song.” You saw his eyes dart between you and Bucky and your close proximity to each other. Then he re-entered the building.

“He’ll come around,” you hoped out loud.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t like me.”

“He’ll come around,” you repeated. “In the meantime, do you want to get dinner?”

#bucky barnes x reader #request #make you mine #natasha romanoff #us the duo

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pastelgrungewrecker · 4 years ago

Text

Home Movies and Haunted Eyes

If I could save time in a bottle The first thing that I'd like to do Is to save every day till eternity passes away Just to spend them with you

“How come you take so many pictures, anyway?”

Mimi’s hands tightened on her little camera- an old, beaten thing; with a chip on the lens’ plastic casing and the color worn away where it screwed onto the body of the device. She swallowed her tears and smiled at her firehaired sister.

“....Just in case.”

Se asked again, before they got the invitation- why she took so many photos of such... trivial things. Of family lunches on a Monday afternoon. Of Quickdraw laying on his back in the yard to watch clouds, moments before Chrona leapt onto his midsection like a swandive.

“Cause one day, it’s all I’m gonna have left to give you.”, she said quietly- before the door opened and Perceptor dried his eye and croaked her name.

“Th- The memorial, is...”

“The G9 memorial?”

“Y-Yes it’s... Three days.”

Dani and Quickdraw scrambled to their feet, the other siblings seeming to materialize out of the cozy haze of their home as Mimi hugged her father as tight as she could, in arms that life made strong and gentle and warm before she pulled her phone from a pocket.

She spoke in low tones, avoiding Quickdraw’s concern and Chrona’s suspicion until Dani- bright Dani, burning Dani- stomped forward and demanded she answer Quickdraw’s unspoken question.

For the first time, the only time, she snapped at her sister in a voice colder than they’d ever heard.

“It’s a memorial for the fucking DEAD Laudanum, now sit your ass DOWN.”

Percy gently rapped his knuckles against Mimi’s shoulder, trying and failing to scold her with a look as Whirl came in from the backyard and demanded to know what was going on, why Chrona had sprinted onto the deck and hollered for him til she coughed.

Mimi sighed, walking Perceptor to the couch with her voice softened and avoiding the shocked stares of her siblings. She let Perceptor cling to her, let his shoulders shake.

“The memorial for the Garrus 9 mission is in three days.”, she said softly, “And Perceptor is taking it really hard-”

“They-”, he coughed to clear his throat, “They want me to speak. At the service.”

Whirl’s expression softened- stoic and calm; he stepped softly to Perceptor and knelt down, braid swinging in and out of view as his head tilted.

“Are you going to?”

“Y-Yes. I. I owe it to Top Spin, and Twin Twist. And everyone. The crew, I’m-”

“Do you want the family there, Percy?”

“We can’t- We can’t have the children there; I mean, Mimi needs to be, they were...”

“Perceptor; we can’t hide the kids from death forever.”, murmured Whirl, “You and I both know everything’s eventual- one day it’s gonna be us in caskets.”

“But-”

“I want to go.”, blurted Dani, “I mean... I. We don’t.... We don’t really know... anything about the Wreckers that our parents were such good friends with. We don’t know what you went through, and we WANT to, right guys?”

Kickback nodded sharply with arms crossed over her chest, Chrona reappearing and giving a soft “Yeah” into the room as Quickdraw’s eyebrow raised in agreement.

“And, maybe selfishly....”, continued Dani, “...We wanna understand. We know that, like- there’s certain. Alarm tones on our phones we can’t use, cause they make you and Papa Whirl have an attack. Or they make Mimi start crying and we have to get Papa Ratch. We want to understand WHY- the only thing we know of Garrus 9 is what they told us in school.”

“And it wasn’t much.”, Kickback chimed in, to her sister’s relief, “I mean, for God’s sake Papaceptor- My history teacher said you were a reenactment actor when he first met you! This is... kind of our family history, right?”

“In. In a way.”, said Perceptor quietly, “It... certainly had an effect on your family, but you are all so young, I couldn’t-”

“Wreckers take care of their own.”, whispered Quickdraw, with cybernetic eyes narrowed like Whirl’s good eye so often did, “History or not, Papaceptor... You’re hurting. And so is Mimi. And we’re your family, aren’t we? Raised by Wreckers- and Wrecker’s Daughters.”

Perceptor looked at Quickdraw in surprise, Whirl humming in intrigue at his son’s sudden firm stance.

“Mimi taught us all that, remember? Wreckers care for their own. You and Papa Whirl take care of each other and all the dad’s, and they return it. You take care of Mimi and she takes care of you. Mimi... Takes care of all of us. And we’re gonna do the same for her.”

Chrona huffed a laugh, popping up next to Mimi, “Besides, we need to find some sweet blackmail stories on Big Sister over here- not fair she can use my pigtail pics against me!”

Whirl snorted softly, and Perceptor managed a creaky smile, and sighed, “...Alright. I... It would. It would help me keep it together. If my family was with me. All of my family.”

“Then it’s settled.” said Whirl as Drift clattered in through the backdoor, “Make sure to answer with a plus... however many are going. I’m not doin’ math after dealing with a hippy tryin’ to eat the fuckin’ garden AGAIN.”

“I didn’t!”, yelped Drift, trying to pull his dirty shoes off.

“YOU’RE GROWIN’ FUCKIN’ WEED IN THE TOMATOES AGAIN, WHILE EATIN’ ALL MY TOMATOES!”

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Three days came, and went. The family filed out, loading into two vehicles as dawn started to rise over the horizon- showing Perceptor and Whirl and Mimi and Drift in her half-dead four door. Smoke trailed from Perceptor’s cracked window, and Mimi simply pretended not to see him toss half a pack of menthol cygarettes into her glovebox next to a steel lighter.

Whirl made a disapproving noise. Mimi shot him a look. The car went silent.

The drive seemed to take too long, Mimi white-knuckled and Perceptor dead eyed as Drift fidgeted almost uncontrollably. Mimi sighed.

“A couple hits off of ONE, Dri-dri.”, she said sternly, “And try not to ash my upholstery?”

The hiss of a match.

Silence.Mimi glanced in the rearview, seeing Cyclonus smiling in melancholy as he no doubt fielded questions from the siblings in the van as Ratchet drove with his face pensive and dull.

The gates of a graveyard rose high in front of them, and she breathed deep as the wheel creaked from her grip.

“Pull over.”, said Perceptor softly, ice riming the words like they had so very long before this family had been built.

She nodded, waving a hand out her window as she did to signal to the van carrying the rest of them. Perceptor waited until the parking break creaked it’s exhaustion before taking a heavy drag and exhale- before passing it to the side.

Whirl and Drift looked alarmed as Mimi accepted with hands shaking hard enough to blur.

“Mimosa what in the name of-”

“It’s just something we did.”, was the answer in unison.

Smoke curled around Mimi’s words, she let her eyes drift shut for a moment, and then handed the last drag back to Perceptor.

“Are we ready, then?”, she asked, rubbing her lips together like she had just applied lip balm to get rid of the nagging tingle.

“As ready as I can be.”

They unbuckled seatbelts and shoved open car doors, stretching in the sunlight as Perceptor and Mimi walked around to the trunk. It clicked with a turn of her key and a tap of a code to show relics of days long forgotten. She helped Perceptor buckle on the old, thin armor- bulletproof and matte dark. She tightened the holsters around his thighs in ritualistic silence as her siblings watched and slowly began to understand.

She stood, and nodded, and turned to let him attack her hair in the same grieving quiet.

Her prosthetics groaned slightly as her weight shifted, her hair slicked back to match her father’s and glasses she rarely wore perched on her nosebridge in a match his scuffed reticule.

“Why are they....”, whispered Drift as Whirl coughed quietly.

“Sign of respect.”, said Whirl, gesturing at his own appearance- his braid and old patch, still emblazoned with the sigil that dominated his past with blood and bullets.

“We’re Wreckers. And you only leave one of three ways. Dishonorable discharge, dementia...”

“Or death.”, said Mimi quietly.

“But... weren’t you vetoed, Whirl?”

“Yep, from a few missions.”, he said, “I was still active on the roster. Still called in a few times between my.... Other activities. But never relieved, never truly removed. Never gone, just put on standby.”

Quickdraw looked at the somber faces, something seeming to click in his head, “.... Are you still on standby now?”

Whirl looked down. Perceptor looked away. Mimi breathed deep.

“Yeah, they are. The Wreckers were never formally dissolved, kiddo.”, she said, “And, by technicality, they could call me in too.”

“But you-”, began Quickdraw.

“It’s the same way Rodimus is a Wrecker.”, she said gently, “He ran with them for a decent while, against the Swarm mostly. But he’s still... Wrecker adjacent, so to speak. They could tap him to replace missing faces on the roster. I was raised on the Trion- Springer’s ship.”

“You knew SPRINGER?!”, squeaked Kickback.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”, she grimaced, “He’s a huge jerk, by the way. Don’t talk to him- he’s never liked Si-si, or Dri-dri, or Papa Birdy.”

“Feelin’s mutual.”

“Whirl, no.”, sighed Drift.

“Anyway... Come on.”, said Mimi, “We’d better get walking.”

“Walking?”

“Bad luck to drive in a graveyard, even if there’s roads.”, said Drift.

“It’s disrespectful too- unless it’s a hearse. Only exception.”, said Perceptor as gravel crunched under their feet, “Mostly because the hearse, or the coffin’s transport in general, is necessary. Bodies are heavy, and caskets are solid.”

“Why isn’t there any hearses around here, then?”, asked Chrona, before feeling the air crack like sugar glass.

Mimi squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then spoke, “...Because it’s a memorial. For a mission that didn’t let anyone bring any remains home, Chrona.”

Chrona stuttered, and fell quiet. Dani and Kickback reached out in unison, catching Mimi’s hands.

“...Did you and Papaceptor. Know anyone on the mission?”

Mimi felt the air in her lungs chill over, and she nodded, “Yeah, li’l gremlins.”, she said with a weak half smile as her eyes began to leak, “I knew Top Spin, and Twin Twist. And Mister Magnus too. And I knew Rotorstorm, for a little while, and even Pyro and Guzzle and Auntie Verity. You remember Auntie Verity?”

“Yeah.”

“And... Uncle Ironfist. Uncle Fisi, I knew him too. And I... I knew Papaceptor.”

Quickdraw gasped.

“Papaceptor had to go on that mission, you see.”, she said, chest already jumping, “And... And very awful, terrible things happened. And so many people died, for... for nothing, really. For something the government needed.”

The family walked in silence, led by Mimi and Perceptor and the shine of tears.

“And only a few came back. Grandpap Kup. Pap Impactor, who you’ll meet today. Aunt Verity. Uncle Fisi. Springer. And Papa. And Mister Max. You might see him today too.”

The family noticed the crowd, the somber crowd, with Ultra Magnus of the Line Ambus the most somber of all as he stood upon the dais.

“Top Spin and Twin Twist were the first people I called Papa.”, whispered Mimi softly, “Before me and Papaceptor had anybody else.”

She smiled at her siblings, letting go of Dani and Kickback’s hands before hooking her arm with Perceptor.

They walked forward- ignoring salutes and red eyes as they walked up the stairs- weaponry heavy around and under their clothes. Magnus shook each of their hands, and nodded for them to go stand with the rest of the survivors of that ill-fated mission.

Kup patted Perceptor’s shoulder, eyes clouded slightly yet still sharp, and grinned at Mimi around his cigar.

Verity patted the seats next to her, her face lined past its years.

As Magnus’s voice sounded, Mimi let her eyes hover half-closed, letting her head lean against Perceptor’s shoulder as he patted her cold hand.

||She was a child again, patting the console and sobbing- tears were streaming, she had heard Papa’s voice, she HEARD it and why isn’t he home yet. Mister Magnus WHY he was supposed to be home in time for MOVIE TIME, don’t you understand that he PROMISED; you need to go save him! That’s what enforcers do, don’t they?

Her little prayers being met with fear and anxious hushing, the rumble of the engines as they circled the pickup zone frantically searching for a signal- for anything. Any signs of life.

She remembered the carnage come home. She remembered Fisitron and his odd eyes- they shook in place like he was always reading the world- his odd eyes closed and his face sickly pale.

She remembered Verity, blankly wiping smears of blood and tears and saliva from her face and armor and staying so silent no matter how many times Mimi’s tiny voice called her name.

And then Si-si - silent and cold and gone too far away for her to touch. Walking past her with weakening steps as she toddled behind him, calling for her Papa to wait- not so fast, her legs is only little.

“Si-si, why are you crying? Si-si- Don’t cry, I can help!”||

Perceptor patted her hand, seeing tears rolling down her face and she blinked herself back. Mimi looked at him, smiled weakly, and looked away- releasing him to take weakening steps to the podium- to let his voice sound out clarion and cold and edged in ice and blood.

Like it had so long ago.

Her prosthetic legs shifted, and she looked just in front of the popup stage they sat up to see headstones that guarded no bodies. Graves she knew held empty caskets.

She felt her stomach freeze over, felt her eyes dim down like permafrost.

And in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but be surprised her name wasn’t on a gravemarker; to memorialize the childhood that died the day the Wreckers came home.

#pastelwrites #humanformers #fankids #wreckers #crim you arent allowed to break my toes for this

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gemmassong · 4 years ago

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Apologies for my face but like... she makes me so fucking happy. My lovely Lady who lived under the house when we moved in almost three years ago and was so terrified of everything. She was so anxious she moved her litter of kittens three times (that we know of) before we could get our hands on her/them. She survived us having to take her remaining kitten away from her. When we did catch her to take her in for her spay/shots, the vet tech stamped a big fat ‘FERAL’ at the top of her file despite my protests and our wonderful vet (who she warmed to quickly) called her Edward Scissorhands lol. She survived heartworm treatment. March ‘19 I found her with a huge gash on her hip that was almost bone deep and required a ton of stiches, which she promptly pulled out. But she decided during her two weeks of cone time that indoor life was pretty nice. No rain, no cold nights, no hunting for food, lots of blankets and soft things and toys and food and humans for neck scritches. Her next trip to the vet they updated her file from ‘FERAL’ to ‘Does well if owner holds’.

She’s gone outside a whopping once since that March and wow that lasted all of thirty seconds, she bolted for the door again to run back inside as soon as Birdy opened it. She refuses to eat the raw meat and freeze-dried minnow healthy cat treats the others like - processed garbage milk-flavored treats and shared human dinners only for Lady! Fucking loves white rice, the weirdo.

She’s been indoors for almost two years now. She only started coming up onto the bed for attention this past summer. Initially she would pat my face and ears until I woke up enough to scratch her neck, and that was all she wanted. Now she drools all over me rubbing her face against mine. Usually she’s still the type to cuddle up behind our knees or in the curve of our hips. It’s only the last month that she’s started cuddling on my chest. Normally she sprawls over my arms. Tonight, she does this. Curls up between my arm and my chest.

Her most recent vet visit (for an ulcer in her eye which is all cleared up now), he praised how far she’s come, how she’s obviously scared but doesn’t lash out at all, no biting or clawing, and instead wants to be held for comfort when she’s afraid.

It’s taken literal years of work and building trust but the terrified feral who bolted at the sight of any human is now one of the most gentle, affectionate, sweet little cats I have ever met.

Cats are the fucking best, I swear. And ferals deserve to be slowly coaxed into happy little housecats.

#My face #Cats #Lady Cat #My cats #Sorry for the long post lol #It's late and she just made me really emotional #Occasional posts about my babies are inevitable here and I won't apologize for it

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dreams-of-the-arcana · 4 years ago

Text

It’s finally here! Chapter 2 of the Spy AU (it rhymed so I had to). Still no title (suggestions greatly appreciated) or header art.

For Chapter 1:

Ft. @theroyalmage’s Emrys, Asra Alnazar, Portia Devorak, newcomer Godiva

We left off with Nadia Satrinava, the Prime Minister of Vesuvia, receiving a very suspicious note leading to a mystery visitor. Now we meet our surprise guest!

Chapter Two: Right Back At It

The common consensus amongst the members of the Vesuvian Secret Intelligence Agency, or VSIA, was that there was no such thing as a ‘normal’ day. How could there be? While other agencies drowned in weeks of paperwork and red tape, the VSIA agents moved rapidly and in the most intense situations.

So even getting the call that the Prime Minister had received a serious death threat wasn’t enough to make the agents blink.

Hidden away, the VSIA building stood tall and boring from the outside. A grey building in a sea of grey buildings made even worse with most of the floors boarded up. A small law firm operated on the second floor and a simple accountant set up on the fourth but that was just the beginning of this particular building.

Agent Emrys Trevellyan stretched and yawned as he strode across the white tiling towards the elevator. The receptionist offered a brief nod before turning back to her newspaper. Pulling back the rusted metal grate, Emrys entered the ancient looking elevator and tiredly put a blank keycard into the small slot at the bottom of the floor numbers. A small camera looking device popped out from seemingly nowhere and announced in an overly chipper voice.

“Look at the birdie!”

Emrys gave the camera a muted smile, as he had a thousand times before, and trained his eye on the lens.

“Welcome Agent Trevellyan”

The elevator began to descend.

Many years prior, the organization that would become the VSIA needed to find a suitable space for their operations. They had quite a few requirements.

“There must be space for expansion as our assignments grow. It must not draw attention to itself. Please no more moldy damp basements?”

Once the building was secured they decided to build underground rather than above. Though the space was absolutely covered in dehumidifiers and vitamin D lamps.

The elevator came to a stop and Emrys strolled through slowly towards his office. Other agents were already hurrying about, the VSIA maintained 24-hour Ops. Emrys reaches for his door, dreaming of hot coffee, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Emrys wanted so badly to keep walking but instead he faced the voice.

“I haven’t even been here for two minutes, Goldie.”

The woman in front of him was tall and impressive. Agent Godiva Köhler stood at 6’3” with wide hips, strong arms, golden brown skin, and most striking were her gold eyes. The vibrant intensity of her gaze earned her the nickname, Goldie.

Goldie had a way with getting information out of people without using any of the usual methods. Most other agents described it as “killing them with kindness”. She inspired other people to want to make her proud. It was terrifying.

Goldie just smiled and pointed to the note attached to Emrys’ door that he’d missed.

‘Please see me immediately - A’

Emrys pulled the note off of his door and gave it another once over with a narrowed, curious gaze.

"Must be important..." he trailed off before stifling a yawn and turning towards their boss' office.

“I know you just got back,” Goldie offered sympathetically. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t ask for you right away unless it was important.”

Emrys understood that and accepted it, he just still dreamed of the coffee machine in his office.

The Director’s office of a secret organization should probably call up images of professional, cold, and impersonal rooms with metal chairs and plain stately wooden desks but Director Alnazar took a different approach.

Upon entering, Emrys and Goldie immediately took in the calming smell of freshly made tea. Tapestries, paintings, and totems filled the room with color and even though there was a stately desk, Director Asra Alnazar was sitting on top of it.

Touchless screens sat around the Director as he worked through a world full of information using only gestures. Deep violet eyes took in everything and most of the agents joked that the Director could even see the future with those eyes.

“Ah, Emrys!” The look of concentration vanished and the Director stood up to greet the agent. Goldie waved and stepped back out.

“Good morning, Director.”

“Emrys, you know you can call me Asra.”

“And yet...”

“Fair enough. I apologize for calling you so soon after you got back. I heard you did an amazing job out in Nopal though!”

Asra smiled and led Emrys to a couple low cushions where a pot of tea waited. Emrys gladly took a cup with a small smile as the mild caffeine hit him. Asra took a moment too before beginning.

“I didn’t want to send you out at first, you’ve been gone for months but after today I knew I needed you for this,” Asra looked troubled. An unusual expression on the happy Director’s face. Emrys leaned in a bit more.

“You’re my best undercover agent though and I can’t be certain how long this assignment will take,” Asra warned.

“I can take it, Director. Just let me know.”

Asra smiled softly.

“I know you can... you’ve probably heard us mention ‘The Devil’ before.”

Emrys nodded. Many agents had worked tirelessly on uncovering as much as they could about the shadowy gang.

“Well it looks like they’re making a big move suddenly,” Asra sighed. “The Prime Minister received a death threat today and we believe it’s from them.”

Emrys’ eyes widened, so far The Devil had been involved in undercover deals like illegal fighting rings, human trafficking, or blackmail. They’d never threatened public officials so blatantly.

“Why do you believe it’s them, boss? They’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Because of Lucio Morgasson, the PM’s late husband. We’ve uncovered information that he was involved with The Devil before his accident. It appears he used his nightclubs to further The Devil’s agenda. Now that Lucio is gone, they might believe PM Satrinava knows something she shouldn’t. Lately, her own goals have been too close to hurting The Devil’s plans so she’s now a potentially a reasonable threat to them.”

Emrys took a moment to process everything he’d heard. Everyone in the VSIA had discussed Morgasson’s ‘accident’ in detail but held no suspicion his wife had anything to do with it. By all accounts, Nadia Satrinava had been a model citizen and PM with no idea the shady dealings her husband engaged in. To target her now too? Why?

Questions filled Emrys’ mind as Asra waited for him to comment.

“... What do you need from me?” Emrys finally asked.

“You’ll be inserted into PM Satrinava’s personal guard. I want eyes on her 24/7 until we have a handle on the situation.”

Asra pulled a file from beside him and passed it to Emrys.

“We have an agent already in posing as the PM’s personal secretary.”

Emrys opened the file to see Pasha Devorak’s smiling face, he smiled. Pasha was posing as “Portia Kocourek, 25-year-old personal secretary” and actually acting as Emrys’ handler.

“We have files on all of her staff and their contacts”

A large man with dark circles under his eyes and heavy features stared up. “Muriel Kokhuri, Vesuvian Secret Service, personal bodyguard to PM Satrinava.”

“He may look mean but Muriel and I grew up together. Just don’t mention the VSIA to him.”

A small woman with porcelain skin and brilliant blue eyes was next. “Andraste ‘Andi’ Ó Conail, public relations for PM Satrinava.” A small star sat by her name which Emrys mentioned to Asra. The Director quickly moved to refill their cups and shrugged it off with a simple “we want to recruit her” but wouldn’t say more.

The files went on as the two poured over the details. Finally, Asra checked the time and informed Emrys he had a meeting that day to introduce himself to the PM. They said their goodbyes and Emrys set out for the capitol building.

Questions still swirled around his mind but he focused on the task at hand. Upon entering he sought out Pasha’s cheerful face and gave her the slightest nod.

While Pasha reached out to the PM, Emrys took the time to drop into the closest chair. It really felt like a 100 years since he’d had a real break. Maybe after all this he would actually take a vacation? Use some of those days piling up behind his name.

“The Prime Minister will see you now, sir.”

Emrys nodded and stood back up, vacations would have to come later. Right now, he had a job to do.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana au #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fanfic au #arcana fanfic #andi the apprentice #cleo the apprentice #emrys trevellyan #kit hunter #portia devorak #pasha devorak #julian devorak #ilya devorak #lucio morgasson #nadia satrinava #muriel the mountain man #asra alnazar #godiva Köhler

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Note

Have you heard of that number neighbors thing? I think that would be a really cute CS story!

lol. No, nonnie, I hadn’t heard of it, but then you sent me this and @blowmiakisscolin sent me the picture above and asked for a prompt. So here we are with this short little thing💙

-/-

Captain: I’m currently being forced into spending time with my mates and eating a burned chicken pot pie.

Birdie: Ugh. I’m starving. I’m stuck at work late. I’m supposed to be getting dinner with friends too.

Captain: Hopefully it’s not burned food.

Birdie: With my friend’s cooking, I’d bet that it was. I’ll probably stop and get something on the way and guiltily eat it in my car.

Captain: That’s what I’m going to do when I leave here.

Birdie: This is only making me hungrier.

Emma moves to text back only for her to see Mrs. Moscowitz move from inside of her building to the street, a dark-haired man behind her. They kiss before the man walks away, and she snaps a picture of it, proof that she’s cheating. A pit forms in her stomach that Mr. Moscowitz was right about his wife, but she’s used to this. Being a private investigator means she mostly finds out about a lot of indiscretions and affairs, not really giving her a lot of faith in committed relationships, but then sometimes the person is wrong and their spouse is simply doing some kind of surprise.

Then again, that means one spouse doesn’t trust the other, and that doesn’t instill a lot of confidence either. But she’s not doing this job for some kind of hope in relationships. She’s doing it because she likes having a roof over her head and food in her stomach and flexible enough hours to not have to be at work before eight in the morning.

After tidying things up with the Moscowitz file, texting Mr. Moscowtiz that she’ll meet him tomorrow, she puts her car in drive and runs through a McDonald’s, not at all caring about her arteries as she eats fries and heads to Mary Margaret and David’s apartment for whatever kind of dinner they’re hosting. They have them all the time, nearly every week, but she doesn’t always make them depending on her work.

(And because the cooking is not always great.)

When she pulls into their building’s parking garage, maneuvering into the guest section, she finishes her fries, stuffing them into her mouth and wishing she had something to drink as the salt gets on her tongue. She’s got a few text messages that have popped up since she started driving, and she quickly responds to Ruby and Elsa before opening up her text conversation with the Captain.

That’s still the most stupid name, and she cannot believe that as a grown adult, she is texting someone she doesn’t know under a nickname. Stranger danger and all that jazz is screaming at her, but she’s probably never going to meet him even if she talks to him more than she talks to most people in her life.

He’s her number neighbor.

That is also the most stupid thing in the world, something she had never heard of, but then she got a text seven months ago describing some kind of new trend on Twitter where you text the person with the number next to yours. For some insane reason, she answered the text.

And then answered the next one.

And then kept answering it.

Like a crazy person, right?

It’s basically turned into some kind anonymous pen pal thing, and she most definitely does not have some kind of feelings for the man on the other side of the screen. That would be crazy and stupid and completely and totally ridiculous for a woman who doesn’t even like talking to some of the people that are in front of her.

Then again, maybe that’s perfect for someone who isn’t too fond of people.

The Captain (a name he chose for himself) is in his thirties and also lives here in Boston. He’s got a thing for boats (obviously) and goes out sailing with his brother on the weekends. Several times he’s offered to take her out sailing, but she’s simply not comfortable with that. Maybe one day if they reveal names and she does a thorough background check, but the sailing will have to wait for that day. When he’s not sailing, he spends his days as a professor at Boston College. He didn’t tell her what subject so she couldn’t look him up, and as much as that annoyed her, she also appreciated that he thought that through.

But she really doesn’t care about any of those surface things when she knows that he’s witty as hell and can make her laugh simply by his choice of words and whatever gifs he chooses to send. He’s quick on his feet, always one step ahead of her, and even though he can be far too flirtatious, he’s actually pretty comfortable to have a conversation with, whether it be about how shitty their childhoods were or about how much they both love pizza.

How could anyone not when it’s good pizza?

(He does like pineapple on his pizza, which she thinks is an abomination, but whatever.)

It’s…nice. The way they met is ridiculous, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to and complain about work and her friends and everything else in between without fear of judgment or having her private life spread around.

Captain: I could eat an entire pizza right now.

See? Pizza lovers are the best lovers.

Wait. No. that’s the wrong thought. She doesn’t know this man. She’s not thinking about him as a lover.

Birdie: Wish me luck. Going in to see my friends now. I hope I don’t smell like I was just eating fries.

Captain: I’m sure you smell delicious.

Captain: Because of the fries, I mean.

And sometimes he’s a bit of a dork, and she kind of loves that. In real life, he’s probably all swagger and confidence and flirtatious jokes, and as nice as those things can be, she kind of likes that nerdiness and the odd jokes. It makes everything more…real.

It takes three minutes to get up to the Nolans’ apartment, and she doesn’t bother knocking, simply letting herself in only to come face to face with Killian Jones and his stupid blue eyes and stupid dark jeans and really stupid white smile.

Why can she not think of any other word but stupid?

Probably because he’s an asshole whose mere presence makes her want to burn down whatever building he’s in. That’s arson and murder and all kinds of awful things, but she has hated him for five years and isn’t about to stop now.

That’s what he gets for hitting on her the night that they met only to proceed to go home with another blonde woman who was dressed eerily the same and then not even bring it up the next time that he saw her. He pretended that it never happened when it most definitely did. It’s not that she’s mad he went home with someone else. He can do whatever the hell he wants. She’s mad that he seems to think that there are no consequences to his actions and that he never acknowledged that he was an asshole to her that night and all of the days following.

Is it a little petty to still hate him? Yes.

Does she care? No.

“Swan,” he greats, doing a little bow that has her rolling her eyes. He only does it because he says that she acts like she’s some kind of royalty on her high horse, which is not at all true. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

“I’m sure you were waiting on baited breath for me to show up.”

He dips his head to get in her eyeline because he’s always getting in her space like that, and she scoffs at the way that he flashes her a pearly white grin, his eyes crinkling. “You have no idea. I’m always excited to see you.”

“Well, you do like blondes.”

“Aye, I do.”

Her jaw clenches, but she will not take any more of his bait, so she steps around him so that she can walk into the kitchen where David and Mary Margaret are sitting at the island while Ruby talks on the phone, Graham at her side continuously pointing towards a piece of paper.

“What’s going on here?”

“Mary Margaret burned the chicken pot pie she was making,” David explains as he slides a basket of rolls across the counter. She picks one up and stuffs it in her mouth. Those fries are good, but totally not filling for the amount of calories in them. “So we’re ordering pizza.”

“Oh my God,” she groans, “pizza sounds so much better than that.”

“Hey,” Mary Margaret huffs. “My chicken pot pie is good.”

“Honey,” David soothes, rubbing her back, “you either undercook it or overcook it every single time. Neither of us are good cooks, and I think that’s something we’re just going to have to live with.”

The Nolans: perfect in every way except for their cooking.

“Ruby, order the pineapple.”

“I am not putting pineapple on pizza, Graham. You know my policy on this.”

“It’s what Killian and I want. Just get a small.”

“No, I refuse. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“How long until they sleep together, do you think?” she asks David and Mary Margaret, knowing that Ruby and Graham aren’t listening because they’re too caught up in their arguing.

“Probably about the same time that you and I do, love,” Killian adds in.

She’s nearly forgotten about him, but that was probably mostly wishful thinking that he’d just up and disappear from the apartment.

“Fuck off, Jones.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

She tosses a roll at him, only for him to catch it, ever the athlete. It’s infuriating that he’s so good at nearly everything.

Ruby finally puts in the pizza order, even though she and Graham are still arguing about it, and Emma opens up a cabinet to get a wine bottle out and pour herself a very healthy glass. If she’s going to make it through tonight, she’s going to need it. Leaving the married couple and the might-as-well-be-married-couple in the kitchen, she steps into the living room and settles down in her preferred armchair before pulling her phone out and scrolling through all of the things she missed while working. There’s not much there, so she opens up her texts again to text the Captain.

Birdie: You should be jealous of me because I’m about to eat pizza.

It takes twenty seconds for her to get a text back.

Captain: Funny, so am I.

Birdie: You caved and ordered some?

Captain: We did, yeah. Though I’m not sure about what type I’m going to be getting. The person who ordered it has a thing against pineapple on pizza.

Birdie: As she should.

Captain: I’ll never understand your prejudice against it. Let me like what I like, love.

Birdie: Never.

Emma looks up to see Killian settle down across from her, his phone in hand with his fingers flying across the screen. She has no interest in his life or who he’s texting, and yet she finds herself curious. Which is, as Killian makes her think whenever she’s around him, stupid.

She keeps texting the Captain for a little while, the two of them arguing back and forth over pizza choices and food choices in general (he’s a much healthier eater than she is), and she finds herself relaxing into it so that she doesn’t really focus on anyone else around her. They’re all wrapped up in their own conversations anyways, so it’s fine that she’s doing this.

Absolutely fine.

Until she feels a heavy presence over her shoulder and there’s a clattering of a phone falling to the ground, the glass probably breaking. He should have bought a case.

“What the hell?”

“What the hell, Jones?”

She turns to see Killian standing above her, his mouth gaping open as he blinks more times than any human being should in such a short time span. What is wrong with him? Why is he standing over her having some kind of weird reaction? Can’t he just mind his own business?

“Jones, what the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out how in the world the woman who hates me is the same woman who I also talk to all day long?”

“I’m sorry…what?”

He’s lost it. Seriously. Whatever screw is loose in his head has completely come undone.

Killian waves his hands at her phone, his mouth still unable to close, and she has never seen him this flustered in her entire life. “You’re Birdie.”

And that’s when her entire world flips on its head and crashes down around her in the most dramatic fall in the history of ever.

She stands up, unable to sit down, and moves around the chair so that they can have a little space in between them as her mind comes to the last conclusion she ever wanted it to come to.

“No,” she starts, putting her phone in her back pocket and holding her hands up. “No, no, no, no, no. You’re the Captain?”

“Aye.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Ruby yells from the kitchen.

“Nothing,” they both yell back at the same time.

She is not cluing her friends in on this. No way. She’ll never hear the end of it.

“This cannot be happening.”

“Well it is, love.”

“I don’t believe you. Prove that you’re him.”

He rolls his eyes, completely and totally exasperated with her. “We are both at a dinner tonight where there is a burned chicken pot pie. Our friends are ordering pizza but Ruby won’t order pineapple pizza. What are the odds of that happening to two different people in Boston?”

Oh.

Oh wow.

Oh shit.

Killian Jones lives in Boston.

Killian Jones is a World History professor at Boston College.

Killian Jones likes to sail with his brother on the weekends.

Killian Jones likes pineapple on his pizza.

Holy shit.

Her number neighbor is Killian freaking Jones.

One of her closest friends is also the man she’s hated for half of a decade.

Holy whiplash, Batman.

“So,” he grins, that white smile making an appearance again, “I bet you don’t hate me so much now.”

“Oh no,” she protests as her mind starts to calm down, the hatred and fondness she feels for his two personas somehow mixing together. “I definitely still hate you. I just don’t hate the Captain. That’s a stupid name by the way. So is texting your ‘number neighbor.’”

He smiles, and her heart does not flutter. Not at all.

“You sure do like to use that word a lot to describe me, Birdie.”

“Well, you make me think a lot of incredibly stupid things.”

“Hopefully one day you won’t think I’m so stupid.”

-/-

Three months later she admits that she is stupid in love with Killian Jones.

In person. Not over text. They do that now.

They never do agree on pizza toppings.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

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dottie-wan-kenobi · 5 years ago

Text

Broadcast Torture + Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Written for the @badthingshappenbingo . X’s are finished & can be found on my AO3 (under the same username!!), asterisks are requested. Thanks to @whateverrrrwhatever for making this way better than it was <3

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The entrance to the Cave Jason takes is old and rarely used anymore. He isn’t sure if the kids even know about it, and really, he hopes they don’t. It feels like a little secret just between him and the Cave (and a few other assholes, plus Alfred). Anyway, he’s only going to the Cave tonight because no one else is here. B is out with the Justice League somewhere, Dick off with Kory and Roy, and all the rest of them, Duke included, are holding down the fort here in Gotham.

None of them will come back any time soon unless they’re grievously injured. Knowing, like, all of them, that’s a distinct possibility. He seriously hopes they can keep their shit together tonight, though, because if not? He’s going to have to interact with them. And he can only handle so much interaction with people, period, much less his intense family members. He worked with Damian the other night, and that’s enough time with another Bat to last him for at least a few more weeks.

Thankfully, what he’s here for shouldn’t take too long—he just needs some files on the drug trade down at the docks. The more he can get the better, especially ones from at least a few years ago, since he has suspicions that remnants of the Lucky Hand Triad have regrouped.

Technically, Jason can go without them. But they’ll help, and as long as he gets done before 3 am, it’ll be fine. Three is, of course, the witching hour of Bat injuries. (Trust him, he knows all about those.)

Really, the only person who might see him poking around—getting his files, he means, because poking around insinuates he’s here for anything else, and he is not —is Alfred. And Alfred won’t tell on Jason, so if he does happen to come down to the Cave and see Jason, well, it’ll be no big deal. It’s always been easier to interact with Alfred than any of the rest, anyway.

When he steps into the main part of the Cave, he can’t help but notice how weirdly small it seems. Wasn’t it bigger? It’s as empty as it’s ever been, though, the only sounds the humming of machines and the bats flying and screeching.

Maybe Jason should be scared by how dark and confined it is. Anybody in their right mind would be, but he’s never been frightened of this place and he’s not going to start now. Determined, he starts over to the big computer, trying not to think about how familiar everything feels, no matter how long he’s been gone. How every corner brings up a new memory, but all the new keepsakes mean nothing to him. How he still knows his way around. Or how he feels… weird here, almost like an apparition or something.

He casts his eyes on the place where his old suit used to be on display, and can’t help the feeling that maybe he’s just a ghost, the shadow of a boy in a picture who’s climbed out of its frame to haunt the city.

Shaking the thought away, he hurries over to the computer bay, flinging himself into Bruce’s chair with false ease. Sitting here doesn’t help him feel any better—it holds so many memories from his childhood that feel more like dreams, muted and far away. In soft focus like that, he can’t be sure what’s real and what’s imagined, what’s a lie. But ugh. God, he’s got to stop, now. He came here for a reason, and the sooner he can get his shit and go, the better.

Just as he’s about click into the huge storage drive of reports and files that Bruce has amassed over the years, he realizes something.

Babs has to know he’s in the Cave right now. There’s no way she’s not going to tell B or Dick, or both. Probably both. And probably Alfred, too, because why not, right? But what can she tell them besides the truth, which isn’t even that bad?

On the other hand, if he’s going to get told on, why not mess with the others a little bit?

Detouring from his original intentions, Jason cracks his knuckles and sets off to open up all of the weirdest porn Google can give him.

It gets old after a few minutes, and it’s best if he gets out of here sooner rather than later, so he moves on. (He leaves the pages up, of course. Let Dick or Tim find them when they get back. Hah.)

He goes to click into the database, but the cursor on the screen doesn’t move. He tries again and it still doesn’t work.

“What the fuck,” he says, because, seriously, what? The Batcomputer doesn’t get slow. And it can’t be Babs, because although she’s not shy about putting up her logo and locking people out of their hardware... no logo. Not Babs, then.

But if not her… by all rights, it shouldn’t be possible.

Discomfited, Jason wonders if he should try to fix it, or tell Babs. He leans down to make sure the mouse is plugged in, but a noise on the screen has him looking back up.

A video has popped up on the screen.

At first, it’s just black. Jason is confused and annoyed. Maybe Oracle is messing with him.

“Babs,” he says, because whether this is her or not, there’s no way she’s not tapped into whatever bugs she has down here. “Stop playing. I’m just here for some files and then I’m gone.” When that gets no reaction, he adds, “Won’t even take the originals, just need some copies.”

Nothing happens. Jason looks around, struck once again by how empty and dark the Cave is.

Okay, his gut was right. It’s not Babs. But what, or who, the hell is it?

Before he can even begin to figure it out, the video changes, revealing a laboratory splattered with what looks like paint. Other than that, it’s practically devoid of color. The tall, peeling walls remind Jason of the warehouses at the docks. Medical equipment fills out the edges, somehow even more rudimentary and broken down than he’d expect.

As far as he’s aware, there’s nobody out there with a hospital gimmick. He looks closer, taking in as many details as he can. The paint catches his attention again, and he curses as he recognizes the colors. White, green, and red. Fuck.

A huge metal table sits in the middle of the room, angled upwards, and there, strapped down on the table, unconscious, is the fucking Replacement.

Jason honestly doesn’t really like the kid. They’re civil enough. Jason has apologized for everything that happened when he came back and Tim has forgiven him, if not forgotten. Not that Jason can blame him. But other than a few conversations outside of the capes and a few missions they’ve teamed up on, they don’t interact much.

There are still days where Jason thinks about being replaced—he knows that’s not how it happened, exactly, but whatever. In those moments, he sees sickly green and has to forcibly calm himself down, punch a wall, something to get the feeling out. He has to tell himself it’s not Tim’s fault, not really.

Replacement or no, it’s hard to see him on the table like this. He really is just a kid.

The Joker moves into view on the screen, his hands clasped behind his back, casual as can be. And Jesus Christ, his smile is still as big and inhuman as it ever was, sickeningly amused by a 17 year old under threat of torture.

"Oh, Batsy,“ he sings, and the sound of his voice sends furious, painful shivers down Jason’s spine. Oh fuck no , he thinks, and wants to get up, but he finds himself rooted to the spot.

It’s the same spot where Jason’s dad sat for years, protecting the city, making it better , or so Jason had thought. But sitting here now, it feels like he’s Bruce. It feels like he’s that little kid who was murdered. It feels like a lot of gut-churning, ominous tangle of emotions he doesn't have a name for and doesn't care to learn.

"I’ve got another of your little birds,” the Joker says, leaning close to the camera.

Part of Jason wants to walk away. He can’t stand this. He doesn’t want to hear another word out of that fucking thing’s mouth ever again, and it’s better to just let the voice pass by over him than to actually listen.

But the other part of Jason, the part that’s been fighting this war since he was born, won’t let him ignore what’s on the screen. He has to know everything, all the details, can’t have only half the picture.

So Jason pays attention and catalogs everything. Forces himself to listen as the clown talks about kidnapping Tim off the street. How he distracted him and snuck up on him and beat him over the head until he was unconscious. How easy it was to capture the oh-so-weak Robin.

Eventually, the Joker stops talking. Must be bored, since he’s not getting an immediate reaction. The dramatic piece of shit only loves attention.

He walks over to Tim. The way he moves is disgustingly familiar to Jason. There’s a kind of switch near the table, far enough that there’s no way Tim could reach it, and then. Then. The Joker flips it.

Tim’s body convulses and shakes as electricity burns through him. He screams, straining against the table.

Jason clutches the armrests of Bruce’s chair, the leather creaking under his hands. Leaning forward, he finds he can’t look away, jaw jumping. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything the Joker does by now, but all he can think is an unending loop of what the fuck?

The Joker flips the switch again and goes over to Tim, crooning something the camera doesn’t quite pick up. A little louder, he says, “I think you need some air, little birdie.” He pulls an oxygen mask from somewhere out of view and puts it on Tim’s face.

Alarm bells ringing in Jason’s head, he watches as Tim struggles, twisting his head and attempting to bite the Joker’s fingers. There’s nothing he can do but watch as Tim loses the fight. The mask is secured, and within a few moments, it fills with horrible green gas.

All he’s got to breathe is Joker toxin.

Jason watches for another minute as the Joker takes the mask off, deceivingly gentle. After a few moments, Tim starts hysterically giggling, the sound a wheezing and crackling and painful thing.

A message shows up on the screen, listing an address and quickest route to the location. Signed: ‘O’.

“Fuck this,” Jason says, because he doesn’t even want to think about what comes next, what’s going to happen to the kid’s body, how badly the kid is going to be hurt. He stands and hurries over to where all the keys are hung up, grabbing the first set he can reach. He runs to the motorcycles and high tails it the fuck out of the Cave.

Jason thinks he might throw up. The thought of seeing the Joker in person again is too much to bear even on his best nights, but. Whatever. He has to get through it. He’s managed it before, with other traumatic things, and he can manage it now. He can do it for Tim.

He doesn’t like the kid. They aren’t friends and they certainly aren’t brothers, but he’s not about to just let the Joker kill another Robin. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

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#badthingshappenbingo #jason todd #tim drake #kind of #batfam #batfam fic #my writing

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