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narcolini · 1 year

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caught out

frank castle x gn!reader, 1164 words

warnings for canon typical behaviours, reader’s one of the bad guys basically

for day 29 of whumpril: surrender & ‘final warning’

a/n: honestly i was almost tempted to make this into an oc fic becaue id made the reader character so fun and specific buuut i dont have the time or facilities to right now BUT maybe i will return to the idea in the future 👀 ps. love you madani im so sorry sweetie

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting @hausofmamadas

You’ve got a sight on her. Quite literally, your sight is lined up with the back of her head. Through the window she’s dumb enough to leave open after dark, curtains pinned back by the sides still. You adjust your grip. Your hands on the sniper, the rifle’s belly on the ledge, your knee in the gravel covering the roof-top. It’s a perfect shot from the perfect position. Better than you’ve ever had, and ever will again, really. Not by fucking luck, but patience, of course. Sheer fucking will.

You take a moment to check the sound again, turning up the volume of the radio pack attached to your waist. It crackles to life into your ear piece. Still watching television, Madani? A movie by the sounds of it—action, with a loud soundtrack, and louder gunshots. She’s still alone, still fixing her eyes to the phone in her hand. There’s no reason to wait. Distracted, unaccompanied, clueless. It’s all set up, just how you intended.

You stretch your trigger finger out, then put it back into place. Take a breath, exhale—completely. Hold.

‘Put it down.’

You freeze, because what the fuck else can you do, when there’s a gun set to curve of your skull, and a cold voice from behind you? There shouldn’t be anyone else up here, wasn’t, until now. And you hadn’t heard him approach, because of the fuzzing movie in your head.

You know who it is, of course, because it’s always Frank lately. If not for you, then for anyone else you talk to. He’s quicker than the cops nowadays. Has fucked up more plans and schemes, and just-fucking-revenge than anyone on Madani’s team.

He reaches around to tug the ear piece free of your ear, tossing it to the ground. ‘You didn’t hear me?’

‘I was on the phone,’ you lie, putting no effort at all into making it convincing. You’re leaning away from the sight now, looking at Madani’s apartment with just your own eyes, and watching her move from the couch, away from the window. He’s made you lose your chance. Stolen the moment from under you. You sigh. ‘You messed up my shot, dude.’

He doesn’t laugh—because of course not. Too serious for his own good. He already has you, he may as well take a load off.

‘Try wearing black next time,’ he comments, dryer than you were.

‘You mean camo doesn’t work in urban environments?’ You try to look back at him, just for the nose of his pistol to push your head forward again. Chin almost into your chest. Fucking ow, he could break the skin doing that. ‘Thought we had the same goal, Castle,’ you say, altering your angle. ‘I do this, and you got one less bloodhound on your trail.’

They’ve got him in the news now. Face on every TV screen. With Madani dead, it’d be a Hell of an easier job for him to do the same. Fake death, new life, start all over. He should be begging you, honestly. Should be lining your rifle back up and giving you a countdown.

‘Final warning.’ The gravel crunches as he stresses it, bringing himself closer. ‘Hands up.’

For a moment, you consider testing him. How final is final, after all? Boot to your shoulder, rifle forced to the floor, final? Or you over the edge of the fucking building, a pancake on the ground below, before you’ve even had chance to fight back, final?

‘Alright.’ You straighten, lifting both palms to the air by your head, so the gun swings loose on its strap. Over your shoulder like a birthday sash. ‘No killing today.’

He grabs you before you can even finish your laugh. Turns you roughly, violently, until you’re on your ass, back to the short wall between you and the sidewalk, ten stories beneath. He’s knelt like you were now, in your spot, with his fist twisting in the material of your collar. Knuckles to the bone, face inches from yours. Jesus, you pant a laugh, you’ve already conceded. There’s no need for all this. If he wants to make-out, he should’ve just said so.

‘Y’know,’ you say, smiling through the ache in your back, and the pressure he’s applying to your chest, ‘I think we’d make a great team. If we worked together.’

‘I work alone.’

‘Eh, but that’s not true, is it, Frank?’

His eyes squint a fraction, then flick away from you. Then he’s talking over your shoulder like you aren’t even there. ‘Yeah, well, you’d be the last name on my list if I needed help.’

‘But I make the list?’ You suck a breath through your teeth. ‘Damn, I’m better than I thought.’

He pushes against you again, gaze coming back to yours. Fun’s over. You can see it in his face. You’re one sarcastic comment away from a bloody nose, a black eye. ‘What’s your deal with Madani?’ he asks. Right to the point.

You wind your head to the side. ‘That’s classified, I’m afraid.’ And it doesn’t matter in the slightest. Your vendettas are no less worthy than his own. ‘You wanna fight for it? Loser tells all their secrets?’

His fist turns another fraction, the cotton around your throat tightens.

‘Sure,’ you pant, ‘choke me out. But you gotta stick around til I wake up again.’ You paint a smile onto your lips that you know, you know, pisses him off, just for fun of it. ‘I don’t wanna miss saying goodbye.’

You watch the cogs turn, slow behind his eyes. He’s debating it, that’s for certain. Make you pass out, or bring you with him. Hell, maybe going other the edge is still an option, you should never assume death is out of the question for him.

Eventually, after thirty—two minute long—seconds, he grunts, pulling you up as he stands. No free-fall sky diving for you today. He’s dragging you back with him toward the rooftop’s exit, feet stumbling after his own. You’re trying to stay parallel with him, or even walk ahead to gain some advantage, but you can’t fucking get your feet straight under yourself. Boots catching, rifle nose bouncing by your knees. He may as well have knocked you out. It’d be smoother for him to drag you by the heel, than continue like this.

‘You don’t wanna talk?’ he says. ‘Fine, I got time.’

‘You gonna torture it out of me, Frank?’ He hasn’t hit you yet, he’s barely even grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark that’ll last. ‘Somehow I don’t believe you.’

‘Yeah,’ he breathes a laugh, ‘that’ll change.’

And is it wrong to say you’re excited, just a bit, in a weird, fucked up kind of way? That you hope he’s actually right? That his threats become real and he forces the answers out of you, somehow. That you get to see the Punisher, finally, in all his bloodied glory.

#frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle fanfiction #whumpril2023 #just a short one yet again #fighting for my life etc etc

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marmie-noir · 2 months

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What else can you do?

TW: None honestly, cute lil idea I had while I work on some more intense chapters :)

I hummed as I worked, standing behind the bar and wiping at the nicer crystal glasses that had just come in, making sure to get any water spots off them. Dwight, per usual, was perched before me next to Pops. The newest addition was Scruff, tucked away in Pop’s flannel shirt he had opened, the little dog’s head sticking out and showing he was clearly sleeping, the little snores also a great indicator. It was a nice, peaceful day at Bred-2-Buck, something that was rare in general.

“So Sunny,” Dwight said, elbows on the bar as his dark eyes focused on me. I glanced up at him, setting the glass down. “Pretty good with a gun. What else can you do?” I contemplated a moment, thinking over what I would consider a ‘skill’ versus something I’d rather keep to myself. With a childhood like mine some skills were better left as surprises for later. “Well,” I started, giving a small shrug. “I can hotwire most anything. But I haven’t tried on anything newer than a 2015, so I wouldn’t swear on that. And I’m a pretty good pickpocket.” I said, lifting a hand and wiggling my fingers with a little smile, mischief dancing in my eyes. “Why?”

“How good of a pickpocket?” I gave another shrug, unsure how to quantify it. Dwight thought for a few moments, fingers brushing over his chin, eyes narrowed slightly as he inspected me. “Show me.” “How?” I asked, hands falling to my hips as I gave Dwight a slightly exasperated expression. If he expected me to go into town and come back with a handful of wallets he had another thing coming. Dwight leaned back in his seat with a grin, meaning he was absolutely up to something. “Hey Mitch!” He called, deep voice practically booming through the empty bar. There was the sound of shuffling and Mitch appeared, drying his hands on a dish towel, cigarette hanging from his lips. “Yeah?” He asked, cigarette bobbing, blue eyes glancing up at Dwight. The New Yorker grabbed one of the menus and let it land on the bar, pointing at something. “I think we should talk about the menu for when we redo this place. The ribs are great, but the burgers.” “What is wrong with the burgers?” Mitch asked, heading towards where I was still standing behind the bar in front of Mitch. Dwight looked at me, giving me a little look, and I caught on. I flashed Mitch a smile as he came closer, moving as if I was going to get out from behind the bar and having to pass him to do so. It wasn’t a tight squeeze by any means, the two of us could easily move around the other in the space, but I played up being in his way, the two of us moving in the same direction. “Sorry.” I said sweetly, chin tipped up as I reached out, hands on his hips as I sidestepped him. Mitch quirked a brow at me with an amused expression but didn’t say anything, not feeling when my fingers dipped into his pockets as I brushed past, pulling a well loved leather wallet from within.

I walked around the bar and moved to sit next to Dwight, my proof in my hands. As Mitch wound up about how the burgers were good and didn’t need to be changed I flipped open the wallet, looking at his license. A younger Mitch was on the ID and I grinned, scanning over his name. “Hold on.” I cut him off mid-burger justification, eyes lifting to meet his. “Your middle name is Wayne?” Mitch’s brows shot up and I lifted the wallet up like it was a book. “Mitchell Wayne Keller? Born- oh my.” I said playfully, snapping the wallet closed as he patted his pockets, looking very confused as to how it ended up in my hands.

“Where the hell did you find that?” He asked, snatching it out of my hands as I smiled up at him. Really I didn’t care how old he wasn’t, it was like it was a huge age gap either way. But I did like to pick on him when I could, Mitch was normally so collected it was nice to shake the cage a little bit.

“Your pocket.” Dwight said next to me, Mitch and I both turned to look at the man.

“Pardon?” “She took it out of your pocket.” Pops added, looking far too amused on his usual perch. Mitch looked between me and the other two men, processing what they said before leaning on the bar in front of me, wallet between his fingers as he focused on me. “You mean to tell me, darlin’, that you just snatched this out of my pocket?” I nodded, looking up at him innocently. He narrowed his eyes slightly before looking back at Dwight and Pops. “You two are bad influences, you leave this girl alone.”

“Mitch!” I laughed, Dwight and Pops both cracking smiles as well as the bar owner huffed, rolling his eyes before winking at me. The warmth in my chest had my cheeks coloring as I laughed, shaking my head and hopping off the stool to go clean the last few tables.

More Sunny and Mitch here

#fanfic #garrett hedlund #mitch keller #tulsa king #mitch keller fanfiction #female oc #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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PROMPTS FROM THE BOURNE TRILOGY * assorted dialogue from identity, supremacy, and ultimatum

who has a safety deposit box full of money and six passports and a gun?

nobody does the right thing.

you haven't slept for a long time.

why don't you sit down.

perhaps we can arrange a meet.

we've been through this.

you really don't remember, do you?

that sounds ominous. let me check my schedule.

what were my words? what did i say?

you move, you die.

thanks for the ride.

welcome to the program.

nothing in those files makes their sacrifice worthwhile.

i don't want to do this anymore.

they found a body.

i'm sitting in my office.

my argument is not with you.

we got a bump coming up.

what happened?

look, what's going on? why are these people after me?

i hear you're still looking for me.

everything i found out, i wanna forget.

i told you to come alone.

someone started all this, and i'm going to find them.

why would you doubt that?

who's your source?

tell me who i am.

i want to know what's going on.

i was hoping you had some time for me.

if there's something you're not telling me, i want it now.

i don't think that's a decision you can make.

you're u.s. government property.

i said leave me alone.

do you have any idea who you're dealing with?

what basis are you continuing this operation on?

i told them i believed you.

why are you helping me?

have you locked down the area?

you don't know the circumstances.

i wanted to thank you.

we got what we needed.

please don't hurt me.

we clear on that?

you start down this path, where does it end?

i can run flat out for a half mile before my hands start shaking.

i see the exit sign, too.

i remember. i remember everything.

backup will be arriving in approximately one hour.

did something go wrong?

what is this, a joke? some kind of scam?

you're the only person i know.

do you have ID?

if we stay here, we die.

i know how you're feeling.

off the record. you know how it is.

no more red tape.

i don't suppose it would do me much good to cry for help?

i send you because you don't exist.

you know i can't tell you that.

we're professionals. when an operation goes bad, we tie it off.

where are you gonna go?

you just asked for it?

this is where it started for me. this is where it ends.

everything you need is in there.

actually, i don't think they give a shit.

get some rest. you look tired.

these people will kill you if they have to.

good thinking.

so now you're going to kill me?

do you copy?

all right, we have to move.

you would probably just forget about me if i stayed here.

you can come up.

why don't you come in with me?

do you even know why you're supposed to kill me?

now why would i know that?

i'm sorry to hear that.

why didn't you take the shot?

it was a kill squad.

you know how real the danger is.

we can do that any time we want.

i come in here, and the first thing i'm doing is i'm catching the sightlines and looking for an exit.

how did that happen?

do something about it.

i send you to be invisible.

you're in a big puddle of shit, and you don't have the shoes for it.

i'm not worried.

who am i?

you couldn't make this stuff up.

you're a total goddamned catastrophe.

i can go check it out.

i'm not sorry.

i mean, you were shot.

i don't send you to kill.

how could i forget about you?

this isn't what i signed up for.

you talk about this stuff like you read it in a book.

i'm on my own side now.

i have the files.

it's not a mistake.

i'm just trying to do the right thing.

what are you after?

why did you pick me?

they knew you were there.

what the hell are you talking about?

we don't have a choice.

it gets easier.

it'll be better if we do this together.

they'll kill you for giving me this.

by god, if it kills me, you're going to tell me how this happened.

look at this. look at what they make you give.

people do all kinds of weird and amazing stuff when they're scared.

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m0ther-of-p3arl · 11 days

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hi i finished tma season 1

IM GONNA THROW UP NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO

WHY HER WHY SASHA WHY MSUT THEY DO THIS WHY MY WIFE WHY WHY N OOOOOOO

THAT IS NOT MY SASHA THAT IS NOT MY WIFE WHAT THE FUCK GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!!!!! SHE DIDNT EVEN EAT ANY NOTEBOOKS MAN WHY SHED GET GRAHAM'D!!!! IM GONNA CRY THATS NOT HER THATS NOT HER THATS NOT HER WHAT THE HELL "yes." YOU ARE NOT MY BELOVED GET OUT

THAT FUCKING TABLE ISTG I HATE IT I HATE IT IM GONNA HIT IT WITH TWELVE BILLION METAL PIPES WHY DIDNT JON BREAK IT YOUUU FUUUUUUCKKKK THIS IS NOT A COINCIDENCE NO WAY THAT TABLE ISNT RELATED TO WHATEVER THIS REPLACEINATOR IS. IS IT THE SAME CREATURE THAT SKEDADDLED INTO GRAHAMS FLAT????? WHY DOES NO ONE SEE ANYTHING WRONG W SASHA THAT IS SO OBLIVIOUSLY NOT HER

the worms the worms the worms ... worm wife ..... the screamerrrrrrrrrrr the wormerrrrrrrrrrr

tim is so silly i love him tbh. my man (presumably) took off his pants in the middle of a wormpocalypse. thanks buddy. he should be high on co2 more often."statement of joe spooky... regarding mysterious happenings..." silly guy silly guy (the horrors) "im fine though. except for the holes. and the pain. and the blood. and the nightmares. couldve been worse though, eh?" u need 12 diff types of therapy now buddy

MARTIN is quite silly too i like him a lot ... erm i think he might actually be a ghost Jon was onto something (silly). jons still such a hater STOPPP HES JUST OUT HERE VIBING... HE SOUNDED SO SAD AND SCARED :( i want to hug him please "im sorry i left you" .. i know what you are

why was Gertrudes body just There btw. what the fuck. shes just been there??? man imagine ur running from The Worms and then BOOM random dead body of the old Archivist HELLO?? AND SHE WAS SHOT??? NO SPOOKY SCARIES ?? JUST GOOD OL GUNS??

i looked it up. the missing cases. have sashas voice. and the homophobic vase statement. im going actually going to be sick. wdym "Evelyn Hewett as Not!Sasha" GOODBYE I HATE EVERYTHING

they all sound so tiiired :[

SORRY TO RANT IN YOUR INBOX BTW IM JUST. NEED TO SCREAM. GOING INSANE

AND SORRY FOR ALL THE CAPS IIIIIMM

I NEED TO BE LOBOTOMIZED RIGHT NOW WHYYYY

AAAAAAH I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO RESPOND TO UR RANT IN EVERY POINT IN ITS ENTIRETY BUT REST ASURED IVE READ THE WHOLE THING AND IM

FUCKKK YESSSSSSSSSS

i knew you'd like tma. i fucking KNEW it. and it only gets worse from here hehehehhe so watch out >:3 and THEN u have to listen to protocol.... fuck yes.........

YOURE CATCHING ON TO SO MUCH OF THE LORE STuFF THO GOOD JOB U UNDERSTAND IT SO MUBH BETTER THAN I DID MY FIRST LISTEN LOL

yea sasha.... oof....... bro got graham'd as u said :3

tim.... auauuaauua a fandom favorite. ofc. the lovely. i have so much to say aobut tim and what a [insert adjectvie that i cant say cos spoilers] character he is but i CANT cos again SPOILERS........

martin is so lovely. i love that man. gorgeous ass lovely human. honestly one of the best characters (but jon's my fave im a jon girlie)

THE HOMOPHOBIC VASE LMAO yes. also. have u heard the jurgen leitner rant?? id save it til after u finish s2 but it is definitely something that every tma fan should memorize.

jurgen leitner?! stupid idiot motherufkcing jurgen leitner god damn fool book collecting dust eating rat old bastard shithead idiot avatar of teh whore, biggest clown in the circus laughed out of town, cowboy motherfucker jurgen leitner (etc etc. this goes on for about 4 paragraphs.)

I RELALY APPRECIATE U RANTING IN MY INBOX. BECAUSE U STARTED LISTENINT TO TMA COS OF ME. ITS LIKE MY HARD WORK IS ALL PAYING OFF. IVE INDOCTRINATED U INTO THIS STUPID FUCKING PODCAST.

dw it destroys everyone. makes everyone go insane. i had the Exact Same Reactions on my second listen ;-; it's a podcast and a half tbh. fucking amazing.

#question spirals #tma #tma spoilers #yeah this was incredible to read :]#im So Happy ur enjoying it so much RAHHHH #its one of my fave things in the entire world #so yea

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pettyprocrastination · 2 years

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Kiss The Barrel Before I Reload

pairing: Gracie x Fem!Reader

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, cursing, guns, typical themes of the wild west. wlw in yee old yeehaws.

Summary: Gracie joins a poker game in the parlor and meets a new face that’s bound to capture her interests.

an: @frannyzooey take me to church series was so amazing and soft and sexy and filled with such magnificent character’s id be a goddamn FOOL if i didn’t fall in love with at least one of them. (I actually fell in love with all of them, but Gracie has a special place) This is a little something something I wrote for her OC Gracie and a fem!reader that I honestly want to write more for because Gracie is just so *kissing noises* and I also love me so intimidating woman. Kelli I hope you enjoy this and I did right by you because your writing is just beautiful and I can only hope to write like you some day.

------

Gracie liked gambling men.

Well, she enjoyed gambling itself. Her job made her skilled in reading people, knowing what they wanted, how they wanted and who they wanted it from. She knew it all just from the way they looked at the women of the parlor and shifted in their seats. Reading their tells is just as easy. She would happily sit down at a table in a free hour, men dissuaded by her curves and sweet smile and let her play with a light laugh and “sure honey, give it your best shot” before the hour was over and they were rubbing their heads as she collected her wins, trying to figure out how the fuck a little thing like her swindled them so easily.

But gambling men were good for money. Slipping her arms around the man who will win in just a few rounds with a soft “need some company handsome?” knowing that he’ll reward her with a hefty tip after spending an hour with her alone. Consoling the once overly confident men who lost with sweet kisses on their necks and bruised egos, taking their hand in hers and leading them upstairs with promises of making them feel better.

Which is why when she saw the two men seated downstairs from the railing, she made a beeline for the one she did not know. One of them, named Westley, she knew quite well. He was hunched over the table, brow furrowed and glaring at the cards in his hand. Frustrated. Angry. Losing.

His friend was quite the opposite. Sat back in his chair, limbs stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam. One hand holding his cards while the other hung at his side, occasionally beating out a rhythm on his leg.

Relaxed. Confident. Winning.

Gracie approached the man from behind, leaning down to coo in his ear. “You looking for company honey?”

Westley chortled and nodded to the man across from him. “I wouldn’t bother, girl.”

She pursed her lips. Such a sore loser already and the game wasn’t even done.

Gracie sighed. “Well I’m sure your friend can answer for himself, Westley. Can’t you, dear?” She cupped a hand under the man’s jaw, tilting so his eyes met hers and-

Oh.

She took in the long lashes that covered the cold eyes staring back at her. Sun stained clothes that hung off your body, but gave her enough mercy to see the curve of your chest from the three undone buttons and the dark skin beneath it.

A woman.

You took in her shock and leaned into her hand. Crooked teeth bared in a sardonic smile.

“Aw, what’s the matter, honey?” you rasped. “I ain’t pretty enough for you?”

Before she had a chance to speak, to collect herself and say that you were plenty pretty enough for her in that sweet voice and sultry smile that made men curl into her arms, you had already turned back in your chair.

“I’m not lookin’ to waste the money I just got.”

Westley scoffed, eyes raking over her body without an ounce of subtlety, just as he did every time he came in. “I’d hardly call a sweet thing like her a waste of money. Why don’t you come on over here and take a seat, beautiful?” He patted his thigh. “Come be my goodluck charm.”

Gracie smiled and held out her hand. But before he had the chance to reach her, she pulled it back, making him frown. “You gonna share the prize money with me, Wes?”

Westley pursed his lips in a face of feigned hurt. “Why, I wouldn't dream of doing anything else. Shit, you turn my luck around and I just might keep you.”

His promises were thin, she knew it from experience. He wasn’t one to tip, only paying the minimum before wearing her out until his time was up and he was leaving without a word. He wasn’t generous, she knew well, with money, nor pleasure.

But he paid, and that’s what mattered.

Gracie threw her leg over his lap, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and nuzzles his neck with a soft sigh. Even as his free hand crept up her skirt and gripped the soft skin of her thigh, you never looked up from the cards in your hand.

“Don’t hold your breath, girl.” A soft mumble of your lips, Gracie just barely able to hear it over the noise of the parlor. “Idiot might not have anything left once I’m done.”

You weren’t pretty.

It’s what she realized when she finally got a good look at you, sitting across from you in another man’s lap as he cursed and fumbled with his cards. Weather beaten skin laden with scars that slithered under your clothes. A sharp jaw with an even sharper nose, that would have been regal if it wasn’t accompanied with sickly yellow bruises along the bone. Lips that would have looked sweet and inviting in a small smile, like the ones women would flash her from the bar, far too nervous to take the first step but hoping she would.

Instead they split into a harsh grin, baring crooked teeth to your opponent in a way that reminded her of a fox in a henhouse.

“You sure you wanna keep playin’, Wes?” You glanced up from your cards to meet Gracie’s eyes and she felt herself grow wet on Westley’s lap. “If you stop now, you might have just enough for five minutes with her.”

No, you weren’t pretty.

Handsome. She realized, while staring at the dried blood on the split skin of your lip and the way your tongue would flick out to taste it. You were oh so dangerously handsome.

She shifted her hips against Westly, an unconscious movement when she found herself staring at your fingers for a moment too long and thinking about what they’d feel like on her, instead of the harsh hand that seized her waist the moment she moved.

“Dammit girl.” His fingers pinched her side as he grew hard beneath her and dropped his head low. “Stay still, I can’t focus with you doin’ all that.”

“Why?” Gracie, ever the spitfire, spoke before thinking. “You were already losing before.”

The corner of your lips turned up and she felt a flush of pride.

Westley bristled. “Watch that mouth,” he forced through clenched teeth. “You’re mine after this, you better remember that.” A dark warning to be sure, but she was too focused on the way your smile dropped at his threat.

She raised her hand to gently cup the side of his face. “I’m sorry, honey.” Gracie pressed her lips to his cheek with a low mumble of ‘I didn’t mean to’ that made the man grow calm and nod briskly before picking up his cards again.

She said nothing about the way your eyes caught the corner of his cards as he pulled them back to his chest, nor the way you pulled the brim of your hat low over your face to hide your smile. Minutes later, your cards were laid bare on the table as you collected your winnings while Westley threw his to the ground.

“You’re a fucking cheat!”

Gracie barely had time to slip off his lap before he was up from his chair and pointing a finger at you. “Nobody wins like that with a clean hand!” You didn’t spare her a second glance as you began to collect the money from the table and slip it into your pocket. “I do.”

“The hell you do! You must've done something. Had something, I’m-”

Westley turned to Gracie with a wild look in his eyes.

“You helped her!”

“No she didn’t.” You stuffed the final bill into your pocket and scoffed. “Just cause I’m not easily distracted by a nice pair of tits like you doesn’t mean she’s the reason you lost. You just can’t play for shit.”

His face turned red as the man around guffawed and hooted at your jab.

“You fucking cunt!”

He reached for his gun, shouting profanity and-

Your revolver was already tucked under his chin before his hand could even graze the holster at his side.

“You just spent an hour gambling with me, old boy.” You dig the barrel into his jaw with flat eyes. “You so eager to do it again?” Your thumb pulled the hammer back, click echoing in the now silent parlor. “Believe me when I say losing this round will cost you a hell of a lot more than some petty cash.”

Westley’s eyes shot around the room, as if in search of help. But everybody, the women and their clients, even the madam at the top of the stairs, stood still as the dead.

You looked over at Gracie, wide-eyed and desperate for somebody, something to happen, to break the hold you had on them all because the wait was the most painful thing she’d suffered in ages before your free hand reached into your pocket and pulled out a small portion of your prize money.

“That should be enough for an hour or two.” You pulled your gun away from Westley and slipped it back into the holster, allowing the room to breathe once more. “Consider it a consolation prize.”

Nobody moves, even as you turned on your heel and walked out of the parlor. Gracie watched you turn to offer her one last nod of your head before pushing through the door and out into the street.

The moment the doors closed, life returned into the building. Women murmured to themselves, asking one another if any of them knew who that was while their madam snapped at them to return to their patrons or go in search of a new one.

Westley snatched the money off of the table, thumbing through it before shoving it into Gracie’s hand and stomping upstairs. She counted it and blew out a breath. It was more than enough for two hours, in fact.

Gracie’s time that you had given to Westley, was spent thinking of you. As he nursed his bruised ego by making Gracie shriek with every sharp snap of his hips and a tight grip on her throat, she thought of you. The woman with a rough voice and quick fingers who was more than ready to kill a man in a room full of whores.

She thought of your eyes, empty and indifferent, even as you threatened the life of another man. She thought of your eyes on her, the way they narrowed as you smiled into her hand when she tilted your head up to her and what would have happened if she had been quicker? If she had said you were more than pretty enough for her.

Would you have let her slip onto your lap? Let her hands run over your chest and toy with the silver cross that hung from your neck and along the slope of your breasts, just peeking out from the opening of your shirt. Would you have awarded her for your win with an hour together?

Gracie tilted her hips against Westleys as she conjured up the image in her mind and cried out.

Oh. What a pretty picture you would be together.

She imagined those dark eyes fluttering shut as she licked and sucked at your skin, that rough voice groaning out praise and deft hands gripping onto her like a lifeline as you both rose and fell together in tandem. She imagined knocking the hat off your head as she tangled her hands in your dark curls while she kissed you. Slotting a thigh between your legs and holding your hips as you rut against her. She imagined kissing the scar on your neck as your head fell back while you came.

For a moment, it was your hand wrapped around her throat, not that of a sore loser from a poker game. It was your voice grunting and moaning and it was your fingers reaching down to rub at her clit, not her own.

She wondered if you would finish her off after your own climax. Sweat slicked skin pressed against her own as your fingers joined her own with a soft order of “you can do it baby, I know you can.”

Not leaving her wanting. Desperate and needy and unsated like the man who came on her back before dressing himself and leaving without another word.

As she slipped into the bath, soothing the bruises with hot water and cleaning herself with a rag, Gracie wondered if you would be back. The thrill of seeing you, a woman, confident and strong and so unapologetically lethal sent a thrill down her spine. Even now, hours later as she dried off and slipped into her night clothes.

There was always a poker game going on downstairs. She told herself. Next time you gambled, she hoped she would be on the winning side.

#tj talks #how do i tag this lmao #anywhoo I HOPE YOU ENJOY KELLI im trying not to stare at it too hard akjdjksjk #if the queen allows it there may be more cause this is a fun dynamic and i love her pedro boys #but anyways go read her stuff its magnificent #ktbbir

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feyre-darling92 · 2 years

Text

Sweet Nemesis Part 9

“What about dating?” you asked.

“Nothing. What about you?

“Not my forte. The first guy stood me up, the second came with his girlfriend, the third left me within three months and the fourth. Well, the forth didn’t go that well. We were together for one year but he left me saying that I was too broken to be loved” you shrugged. You hadn’t told anyone else before and you didn’t know why you told James at the first place.

He just nodded. “Guess they were idiots. That’s why they let you go”

“Did you just say something good for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, 005”

Somehow, your relationship had changed. To better.

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

The next day you were still in pain from your wound but not as much as the previous days. At the headquarters you and James went to M’s office.

“We already have found 10 members, but there are more. Q suspects that there must be a flash drive or something. We found that the right hand of Kerres is in London”

“How are we going to find out who he is?”

M pressed a button at her computer and her computer screen appeared. There was an image of a man and his ID details. Well, to be honest, he was hot.

“This man, we suspect is his right hand. They are always seen together. We’ve been tracking him for days and we’ve observed that he always eat lunch at the same place. So that’s where you’ll find him”

You both nodded and got out of the office. You knew the place so you drove you here.

You sat at a table across him so you could see his every moves.

“How are we going to take the information?” you asked.

“You seduce him, take him to the back alley and I’ll be there to make him talk”

“Absolutely not”

“Absolutely yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“Do you see any other way?”

“Fine”

You waited until we stood up and took your bag. You only hoped this would work. You walked to him and crashed on him on purpose, dropping your bag, your glasses and book falling outside. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you muttered as you leaned to gather your things.

He immediately leaned down to help you.

“It’s ok” he said giving you your book. “Nice choice of book, by the way”

Your plan was working.

“Thank you” you smiled. “And I’m really sorry, I was just having a hard day and I wasn’t looking where I was going and-“

“It’s fine. Do you have any company?”

“No, actually I’m alone”

“Then why aren’t you joining me?”

“That’s so nice of you. Thank you”

You talked with him for about an hour and you could barely hide your boredom.

He was constantly flirting you and you flirted back.

His phone rang and he picked it up. “Yes boss, I’ve got it” he said and closed it. “So, where were we?”

“Oh, we were saying that we are both alone”

“Yeah, you know it’s hard to find a woman like you”

And he leaned to kiss you. You pulled away faking a smile, “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?”

He grinned “I like you”

You took him to the back alley as James had told you. When you arrived he pinned you against the wall and started kissing you roughly.

You saw a hand grabbing him by the shoulder and throwing him to the wall. James pointed the gun at him.

“Give us the flash driver”

“Do you really thing you can get away so easily?” he laughed. “We are everywhere”

“Yeah ,sure. You either give it to us or we take it”

“Fine then. Take it”

“As you wish” you said and shot him.

James searched his pockets and found it. He also took his phone.

You returned at the quarters, immediately heading at Q’s lab.

“Oh, excellent” he said taking the USB and putting it on an old computer. Hundreds of files opened and they were sent to a bigger screen. M entered the lab, Tanner following her.

“Did you take it?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good”

Q searched the files and names appeared on the screen.

“Ma’am” Q said “They are over 100”

“Sent them to me. I will take care of it”

“We also took his phone” James gave it to Q.

“We will search it for additional information. You are dismissed”

You nodded and left.

It was 2.00 a.m. when your phone rang and Eve’s number appeared on the screen.

“Eve, what the hell happened?”

“Y/N I want you to stay calm, ok?”

“Eve WHAT HAPPENED?” you yelled.

“Y/S/N. There was an explosion where she worked”

“Is she ok? Where is she? The baby?”

“She is at Saint Paul’s hospital, I-“

“I’m coming”

You only took your phone and drove as fast as you could. You almost crashed ten cars.

You entered and went straight to the reception.

“My sister is here, Y/S/N”

“Follow me” she said and you followed her.

You saw Eve and James waiting outside. “How is she? Where’s the baby?”

Eve was holding the little girl. “She is fine” she said and gave her to you.

You immediately sighed in relief, as the baby girl smiled at you.

“What happened?”

“M is suspecting that it was Kerres' job” he said but he avoided looking into your eyes.

You were ready to speak when the doctor appeared. “How is she?”

“She is totally fine, no need to worry. She got away with a scratch, but we will hold her for tonight”

You nodded. “Can we see her?”

"Of course, follow me" he said, entering the room.

She was lying on the med bed, watching TV, acting like nothing had happened.

"Hello" she greeted you with a smile, " Y/N calm down, I am fine" she laughed and you sat at a chair next to her bed, giving her her daughter.

"You scared the shit out of me"

"That's what siblings do. Eve, James, thank you for everything"

"No problem" Eve said.

" Wait, how do you know James?"

"We met a couple of hours ago. Either way we are all working at the same agency"

"I made her tell me embarrassing stories about you" James smiled.

"I will stay with you tonight" you said.

"Y/N , I am fine! Just go home. Either way I will leave tomorrow. But can you take the baby with you?"

"Of course" you took her in your arms.

"I will take you home" James offered.

"It's ok, really"

"No, Y/N, don't go home alone. James, thanks for offering"

"I am afraid I need to stay to gather information about the incident" Eve said.

"Of course. I wouldn't sleep anyway"

"Shall we?" James opened the door.

You nodded and got out of the hospital. It was cold outside so you covered the baby with your coat.

James drove you home. But something was wrong with him. He didn't talk as much as he did and he avoided looking at you.

"Is everything alright?" You asked when you reached your doorstep.

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing"

You unlocked the door but you stopped.

"You know, I own you more than one for everything you have done for me" you smiled shyly.

"Well, I can think of something to make up for it"

And he leaned to kiss you.

The kiss was soft, as he was afraid of breaking you.

You didn't realise it was something you wanted until now

You were interrupted when the baby started crying.

"Right" James laughed. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yep. Goodnight"

And although you hadn't admit it until now, you loved him. Too damn much.

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

#james bond fanfiction #james bond #james bond x you #james bond x y/n #my story #my fic #fanfic #feyre darling92 #feyre-darling92 #my writing

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bangarax · 2 years

Text

Say Cheese

The music in the club was loud, disgustingly loud, as were the people there. Rich or poor, it didn’t fucking matter. Once the alcohol was in their system, they all were the same. The slurred words, the sweat that was mixed with secondhand smoke. Not that she didn’t do all those things, but when it came to entering the places the French liked to frequently visit, there was just something so much less appealing about it.

Hearing the news about Eva definitely came as a surprise, something unexpected. Especially as it was in London, of all places. What the fuck was she even doing here? Though Ara would never ask, not even inquire. She was taught not to, and also she tended not to care. At least not enough for her to pique interest or to stick her nose where it obviously didn’t belong.

Still, to find out that the woman who had become her mentor, someone she was actually learning things from, the woman who she had taken a liking to was dead? A shock. The kind of where you’d see a character on some shitty TV show die, a twist that you didn’t see coming. In any case, if Eva was dead, shit was about to hit the fan. Without Eva - the Russians lost their most beloved assassin. It was now on her to make sure that the competency gap would be filled.

She spotted him surrounded by some other people, enjoying a few drinks. Clever of him not to go to the usual French places. Clever of him to try to avoid the usual crowds when he wanted to simply have a drink. Clever but not enough.

Mikhail was reported missing; what they found at the scene at the place where he was supposed to land was a bunch of dead Russian liabilities. “There’s hardly a mark on him.” Ara had noted as she moved one of the guards' faces with her foot as they inspected the grounds. Who ever set everything up, really did a fucking awful job. So did the French, as they missed out one camera, which was enough for her to find out at least a few people involved.

Which was how she ended up here, in this club for the rich, with hardly any fucking security.

All she had to do was wait by the men's bathroom, keeping her head down as she waited for the Sebastien to come and relieve himself after digesting probably half the bar and the drugs. The icing on the cake.

He came within the half hour, not stumbling, but also not aware of his surroundings as he entered the bathroom without realising she had followed inside. Ara waited until he started to relieve himself, to add to the fucking embarrassment that she was about to make of him. Not payback, but simply doing her job.

With her gun out, silencer placed on top, Ara fired the first shot into his leg.

“Where’s Mikhail Vorshevsky?” She asked, her tone monotonous, which made her sound almost uninterested, bored.

Sebastien simply swore, letting out a grunt as he stepped away from the urinal, hi hand covering his wound while his dick was fully out. She glanced at him arching her brows before looking up at him as she fired the second shot into his other leg.

“Where’s Mikhail Vorshevsky?”

Some more swearing, falling to the ground, which only got an exasperated sigh from Ara in return. She wasn’t going to ask a third time because it was already clear she was not going to get the answer.

“Right.” was her final response before putting the bullet between his eyes. A dead Frenchman was better than nothing. Looking at the sight before her, she stepped over him, fishing out the wallet from hiss pocket, taking out the cash and his ID. Cash for her, ID for Arkady.

“Smile.” Ara said as she took a picture of them with her phone - Sebastien dead, and Ara pointing her two fingers in a peace sign with a smile on her face. She couldn’t cut him up exactly in the club's toilet, so this was going to have to do.

“Good luck.” Were her last words as she snuck out through the window and disappeared in the streets of London.

#;; self para #ft Sebastien

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loricritterwritestoo · 11 months

Photo

Hi!!! Lori Critter (they/them) here! You might know me from some of my work on twitter (if ya know what i mean lololol) but I also write, and make art. I’ve been working on this lesbian sex worker road trip novel for over two years, fleshing out the basics of the main story and writing all the scenes I was really excited about. Let me know what you think! I will have a patreon available any day now where you can read the chapters in real time every week as I actually put the book together cohesively. I might add some poems here/add a novel and poetry tier, but my poems are pretty weird so we’ll see about that lol. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!!! (also the novel is written from the perspective of Angelica she/her who eventually IDs as nonbinary, this excerpt doesnt explain that so I thought id add it :) )

I hated how scared I was. My job was to be supportive, but all I was doing was sitting in a back corner of the room staring at her worriedly. Evangeline was getting ready to see a client for a date. She had just finished painting her nails and was now blushing her cheeks with her other hand, holding a compact in the shape of a heart. I always thought of myself as someone who knew all about the “rougher” side of life and had no qualms about sex work. But all I felt was worry. Eva had done this so many times before and I wanted to think she knew what to do in every single situation. And I did trust her. But I didn’t trust the world.

In this past month, we had created our own universe overflowing with new love, lust, and adventure. Yes, I was scared for her. But I also didn’t want a bunch of men butting into our world.

“I’m almost ready… I’m a bit dusty” Evangeline giggled. I fucking love her giggles. The way it sounds like shes shy but you know shes anything but. I watched her walk past me and was infuriated that some truck driver or lonely dad gets to touch something so sumptuous. Could even I deserve a backside that fits blue satin granny panties so well? (“they let my pussy breath!”).

Eva was putting on her strappy heels at the edge of the bed. I sat down next to her and rubbed her back, my head leaning on her shoulder. She smelled so, so good. Like sweat and summer. “God, you smell amazing. You really have to leave RIGHT now?” I smiled at her. I was trying to sound like I was teasing her. But I wanted so bad for her to change her mind.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” she turned and looked at me. “I’ll be fine. I know what I am doing, and its no more dangerous than my waitressing job where my boss kept a gun loaded on his desk. If I worked at a grocery store, it could get shot up. If I was “just” a stripper, my boss could turn me into his personal concubine. I’ve seen it a million times before. And it WOULD be because shes a stripper! But thats his problem, the worlds problem. I refuse to wait for the world to catch up to, like, the truth of humanity, that we’re all the FUCKING same and no ones better than anyone else. I will work my way, and all I need from you is support. This is what I want, how I am most happy. I totally get that the whole world told you the story of the poor little dead hooker, but thats just not me. If I’m killed tonight, its still not me. And it doesn’t exist. I am NOT what my clients, you, or a shitty movie tell me I am. No one is.”

I just stared at her. I felt bad. I felt confused. I flinched at every snatch and quick movement she made as she finished getting ready. Maybe she could’ve not lectured me at the drop of a hat, without me even saying anything that serious. But she was right. I was being stupid and trying to protect her in ways you can never truly protect someone. And I knew from the beginning who I was running away with. Looking at her, pissed and stomping around the room, I decided to learn, as best I can, just how exactly she needed me to love her.

I looked down at the floor, where her overflowing suitcase was. I saw a pair of sheer panties with little sea creatures like octopi and seahorses on them. It wasnt a thong, but it was the kind where it was meant to ride up your ass and basically serve the same purpose.

“I think you should wear this. Just don’t sell it for him to keep under his pillow.”

#lesbian #sexwork #novel #web novel #patreon #feminist writing #writer #queer #queer writers #queer writing #nonbinary #nonbinary writer

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dysfunctionalmaki · 3 years

Text

To Realize

Main Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot until... I wanted to base it on the whole Black Widow movie :"))

Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Your last interaction with your father didn't go well, he simply told you that Secretary Ross is now after you and Natasha after helping Steve, and Bucky to get in the Quinjet while T'challa was after them.

Quickly tackling the king of Wakanda on the ground, while Natasha shot something at him to give Rogers and his friend time to take off, as soon as the jet flew away, you removed your arms that are restraining him.

"Your father will hear about this, and you too Miss Romanoff." The exact words that came out of T'challa, and now you're on the run with Natasha, considered as a global fugitive.

Your father looked at you with disappointment when he mentioned that Ross will be chasing you and the latter, you looked at Natasha before she took your hand and leading you out, taking you to who knows where.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

"You miss your daddy?" Natasha spoke while driving, you chuckle at her words then resting your head against the car window. "Hmm, kinda, so what are we doing here in Norway?" You ask the latter.

"Well, you've noticed that Ross is after our asses after assaulting the King of Wakanda, and helping Steve and Barnes escape the airport, I believe we should lay low, right?" She propped her elbow by the window, resting her head on her knuckle as she drives with one hand. "Oh? I didn't know that." You replied sarcastically, making Natasha roll her eyes.

"What I mean is, why Norway of all places?" Now you're kindly asking, arms crossed over your chest and slowly drifting off to sleep, exhausted after hours of traveling, without Daddy's private planes, sports car, and Quinjet also.

Natasha noticed how your voice softens, a long yawn coming out of your mouth, and quickly glancing at you. "Ross has no jurisdiction here, his boys would stay away from here for the time being." She answered, you softly nodded and replied with an 'okay' almost a whisper with how silent it was.

In a split second, you're already fast asleep at the passenger seat, both arms hugging yourself and your head resting against the window. Nat maintained her eyes on the road as she attempts to reach for a blanket she stashed in the backseat, after few shifts in her place, the Russian managed to grab the cloth.

She gently placed the soft blanket over you, and now focusing herself on driving, for some reason, she has always felt this warm feeling in her heart when she's alone with you, adoration maybe?

Your peaceful state while you're in deep slumber, and hearing your soft snores as she admires the view of the landscape, she would offer everything she has just to stay like this most of the time.

The thought caught her off-guard, why would she want to spend all of her time with her friend's daughter? She shrugged the thought off from her mind, she knows what love feels like, she felt it with Bruce until Hulk decided to drive off somewhere they won't find him.

She did get sad because of it, but she chose to move forward and move on, successfully removing any romantic feelings for Banner, focusing on her work as an Agent and an Avenger.

But why is she feeling this way with you? Her heart melts when she sees you getting all excited when you've successfully upgraded your techs, how she would automatically smile when her eyes would catch you smiling, and how she feels warm when you're there to ease her mind when a mission didn't go as planned.

She's now connecting the dots, using the silence and peace surrounding her, she got time to think about herself and her feelings towards Tony Stark's daughter.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

After half an hour of the drive, you slowly wake up from your nap, looking around the surroundings you're in the middle of the woods, Natasha's still driving. "Good uhh... Evening?" You greeted Nat with your groggy voice.

Natasha stopped the car beside the safehouse, which is a caravan and you don't mind, you can't really call your father to get you a 5-star hotel to stay in. "Did you manage to replenish your energy?" She asked, unbuckling her seat belt and you did the same.

Getting out of the car, she has her gun out and you also have one on your hand, staying alert until both of you heard a loud snore in the room. Natasha immediately returned to her relaxed posture before heading into where the sound belongs, and she found her contractor sleeping.

Kicking his foot that is off the bed, the man immediately woke up. "You're sleeping in my bed." Natasha commented, "I'm not even under the covers." He replied, then his eyes trail at you, awkwardly looking away noticing that the two seemed close.

"I've got what you asked for, fake IDs, drivers licenses, and some VISAs, also for Miss Stark too, just like what you've told me to do." He says as he handed out the fake identifications to Natasha, while reading, the Russian frowned upon what she just read. "Really? Fanny Longbottom?"

"That is a legitimate name." He defended himself, them Natasha handed your fake IDs, taking a good look at them and you're amazed about how real they seem to be. "Thank you...?" You softly spoke.

"Rick, Rick Mason." He introduced himself, and you shook his hand also introducing yourself, with little chit-chat soon after the man left leaving you and Natasha alone.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

An hour has passed it's already dark out, you're currently sitting by the front door, knees up to your chest, and you already felt homesick, Natasha's company is nice honestly, but the feeling of being far away from your father and home sucks.

Natasha looks at you while you're way too busy gazing at the woods, she knows you aren't used to this type of setup, running away from authorities, and far from home, she felt bad for you.

She walks up behind you, making sure you're aware of her presence before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to watch a movie on my laptop, feel free to join me, I'm also eating the ice cream we bought at the convenience store earlier." She softly spoke before leaving you alone.

Minutes after, you finally stood up from where you are sitting and closing the front door, almost dragging your way to Natasha. Two bowls of ice cream in front of her, and her laptop already on, she was waiting for you.

You placed yourself beside her, head resting on her shoulder then she plays the movie on the screen, lazily taking a spoonful of the cold treat in your mouth, and eyes glued on the screen, but you weren't paying attention to the movie, you're spacing out.

"Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?" Of course, not, Natasha knows damn well you aren't okay, she thought that it's a dumb question. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answered just like your father, she paused the film and causing you to look at her. "No, you're not okay, and that's okay." She says before taking you into her arms.

You're surprised actually, Natasha isn't usually the one who initiates physical contact but here she is, her arms wrapped around your body. You needed this, you needed to feel home and somehow being hugged by Natasha feels like it.

Burying your face at her shoulders then you knew you're melting in her arms, it almost brought the tears out of you, as if her touch is enough the lift the burden you've been feeling.

Natasha feels like home.

You try not to think anything about the affection she just gave, but damn, you think you'd go batshit crazy if you won't get to experience this again.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Let's be clear here, you've had a crush on Natasha while she's still Natalie, then as soon as Fury revealed that she is some secret agent, you were so amazed that you started liking her, though she didn't contact after that.

You weren't part of the Avengers initiative, but you did join them in the battle of Sokovia, but she and Banner have a thing going on, so you've decided to set those feelings aside. Which you successfully did for a few months, and after Bruce flying who knows where maybe you can make a move?

So you did, you would jokingly flirt around Natasha, and your father would give a questioning look then you slowly back away, but you were also a great friend to Nat, it's just that you can't seem to get all romantic with Natasha.

Just as much of a playboy your father is, that's all his, you suck at this type of thing, so Nat probably thought you're just a caring and affectionate person.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You gently pull away from Natasha's grasp, and she looks at you with her emerald eyes. "Better?" She asked, placing a hand on your cheek softly caressing your skin. "Much better, thank you." She smiled with your answer, the next thing you know is that you're way too close to her, and you're looking at her plump lips.

This would be a perfect time to make a move.

You hold the back of her hand that is on your cheek, slowly closing in, and Natasha is leaning closer, so near that you could feel each other breathing, just when your lips were about to touch hers... the power died.

Nat cleared her throat and awkwardly moving away, removing her hand away from you and she stood up. "I'm just going to check the power generator." She says before going outside.

Her face turned red as soon as she was out of your sight, she got way too vulnerable with you, she almost kissed you but she sure knows she's going to like it but no, not at a time like this.

She tried to get the power back on, only to find that there's no more fuel in the generator, she came back inside finding you eating ice cream in the corner, and probably waiting for her to come back.

"I'm going to a gas station, do you want to come with me?" She asked, you nodded before getting off your ass and bringing yourself into her car, there's this awkward tension between the two of you, and as soon as she started driving, the silence swallowed the two of you.

"Can I turn the radio on?" You asked her, she simply nodded while eyes fixated on the road, you played the radio, and Sia's Cheap Thrills came on. "Damn, even here? When is this song going to die?" You commented.

Natasha taps her fingers on the steering wheel according to the beats, despite hearing the song over and over whenever you would turn on the radio, you still liked it.

Midway through the song, you felt chills on your body, and as soon as you look at the window beside you, suddenly you see an RPG heading towards the car.

"Nat—" Before she could react it has already hit the car causing an explosion, now the vehicle is hanging on the edge of the bridge, and with one wrong move it'll head straight down to the water. "Ooh, fuck that hurts." Hissing as you try to collect yourself and trying to fight the headache it caused.

Natasha on the other hand is in pain and boy, she's mad. "I'm pretty sure Ross has no jurisdiction here, and you should know that I'm a better shot when I'm pissed off," Nat spoke before firing few bullets at the person, you look at her and biting your lip, finding her hot.

"Wow, that's hot..." You spoke under your breath but Natasha heard, glaring at you. "Really? At a time like this?" She says, before heading out of the car when you tried to get out Nat stopped you. "How long can you hold your breath?" She asked. "Last time I beat Sam it was a good 4 minutes and a half."

"As soon as this psycho comes close enough, I'll push you into the water, it's not after us." She says you look at her as if she's speaking lies. "Nat, I'm not leaving you here–" before you could protest, you felt her lips against yours it was quick but you know damn well, that Natasha kissed you.

"I'll meet you down there, I promise." She says before a shield comes charging towards her, and managed to avoid it, yet it hit the car, now you're falling off the bridge and you suddenly noticed a small case on her hand.

You quickly got out of the car before it could hit the water, then you swam heading to safety where the one who ambushed wouldn't see you.

Closing your eyes hoping that Nat would come back to you in one piece, there's no way you'll let her die after kissing you, of course, you wanted to fight but your body just wouldn't.

You can't risk losing Natasha now.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Next Part: To Remember

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel universe #tony stark #iron man #fem!reader #fem!stark!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!stark!reader

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Courtesy Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: A "meet cute" with either EZ or angel where u are walking out of the gas station where the swole boys confrontation is taking place

Warnings: language, smoking, guns, Angel being a smartass

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for this lovely, lanky man. This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I was really feeling it tonight. I tweaked it a little bit but I think it still flows really well. I hope you enjoy!! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Angel Reyes Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @luckyharley1903 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @black-repunzel99 @punkgoddess-98 @lexondeck

There were very few good or fun things about your job at the gas station. It was nice that your boss wasn’t around much—the last thing you wanted to deal with on top of shitty customers was a supervisor breathing down your neck. And sometimes, in the midst of all the lulls and in between the rude people who rolled in and out throughout the day, you got to see some interesting things. For better or worse, travelers were never boring.

You heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the lot. The noise was deeper, had a little more muscle to it than the bikes that commonly rolled through your spot. You peeked out the window to look at the gas pumps, and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows in surprise when you saw the two men that were getting off their bikes and unclipping their helmets. If only the bikers in your area looked like that.

One of them started walking towards the door and you immediately set your phone down on the counter, trying to look at the man who had entered without making it too obvious. He perused the aisles for a couple minutes, although he didn’t really seem like he was going to pick anything out to purchase.

He approached the counter and you flashed him a smile, your customer service voice immediately kicking in, “What can I get for you?”

“Just a couple packs of smokes, please,” he pointed to the ones he wanted.

You nodded, “You got it,” you grabbed two packs and set them on the counter, but as he reached for them you didn’t remove your hand. He looked at you, confusion apparent on his face. You chuckled, “ID?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Really?”

You nodded, “Really.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed but there was still a smile on his face as he took his ID out of his wallet and handed it over to you.

You looked over it, nodded, and smiled as you handed it back, “Thank you, Angel.”

His smile shifted into a smirk of sorts, “You’re welcome, querida.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you finished ringing him out. He flashed you a wink as he swiped the packs of cigarettes off the counter, “Have a nice day.”

You leaned forward onto the counter, watching him as he walked out, “You too.”

Once he was back outside you sat back down onto your chair, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t, that it was none of your business, you looked out the window to watch him talk with the other man that he had pulled in with. You watched as Angel placed a cigarette between his lips and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did, but oh well.

Your quickly spiraling train of thought was derailed as you heard another set of motorcycles pull into the lot. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing and rolling your eyes. The Swole Boys might’ve been local but it didn’t make you like or respect them. And it certainly never made them treat you any better, either.

You looked out the window and watched as they walked up to Angel and the other man, and you instantly became interested in how it was going to play out. You couldn’t hear all of what was being said at first, but you were certain that the men who had just rolled in weren’t being courteous, or smart.

The man that Angel had shown up with got off of his bike, and you found yourself walking out from behind the counter and going towards the door. You weren’t planning on going out there and putting yourself in the middle of it, but you wanted a better idea of what was going on. It was hard to hear from behind the counter.

You heard Angel’s voice, “Next time we’ll call the Slow Boys.”

Having the protection of the glass door was a godsend, because you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you. No one ever talked to them that way, and you were thrilled that someone was stepping up to the plate and finally saying something.

The man next to Angel spoke up with a smirk tugging at his lips, “Sorry, he’s just picking up on the lack of cognitive energy comin’ our way.”

You found yourself covering your mouth with your hands as you laughed. Angel and his counterpart were clearly very pleased with themselves, both of them standing with a lot of confidence despite the mounting annoyance of the other bikers in front of them.

The Swole Boys started stepping closer and you saw Angel lean and grab something from his bag. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that he had a gun in his hand. It wasn’t raised, but you still didn’t know where this was going, if you were supposed to step in and say something. You didn’t get paid nearly enough to get shot on the job trying to protect a few douchebag gym-bros, but you didn’t want to say that you didn’t do anything. You saw that the gun was still at his side, so you stayed put and listened to the commentary he was providing. You had to admit it was amusing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped and raised the gun, going back and forth pointing it at each of them.

Now the tension was a little too much for you to be completely comfortable with. You ahd no idea what you were going to do, but you couldn’t stand inside anymore. Silently, you slipped out the front door and stood on the sidewalk right in front of it, letting the situation play out a little more. Both Angel and the man with him spotted you, their eyes flicking over to you for a moment even though they didn’t say anything to you.

“You guys are an embarrassment,” Angel shook his head, gun still aimed at the men in front of him, “Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let your shock be too present. You knew that it was still written all over your face, though. And the surprise only intensified when they actually backed off and went back to their bikes. They obviously wouldn’t have been able to go toe-to-toe with Angel and his friend, but on a different day they probably would have been stupid enough to try.

It wasn’t until the guys pulled away that Angel tucked his gun back into his bag and turned to look at you. the tough demeanor he’d just had completely fell away as he stepped a little closer to you.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” he shook his head slightly.

You chuckled, “It’s fine. Just came out to make sure I wasn’t going to have to add hose blood out of parking lot to my to-do list.”

He laughed, “I would’ve at least stuck around to help with that.”

“No he wouldn’t have,” his friend said with a smile that would make anyone’s knees buckle.

“Man, shut up,” Angel shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t mind my brother—he was dropped on his head a couple times as a child.”

“By you?” you asked with a smile.

He held a finger up to his lips, “We don’t talk about it.”

You looked back and forth between them, crossing your arms over your chest, “You guys just roll into town to stir up trouble, or what?”

Angel shook his head, “Just passing through.”

“Sorry for the scene,” his brother said.

You shrugged, “All good. Not like we’ve got any customers to scare away.”

Angel laughed, “Right, right.”

“You guys should ride through more often,” you nodded towards the road, “Those guys don’t get told to shut the fuck up often enough.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Angel smiled as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, “try to swing by and keep ‘em in line.”

You didn’t comment on it, but you could see Angel’s brother smiling and shaking his head as he watched the two of you interact. Clearly Angel was no stranger to chatting up girls that they came across in their travels. Still, this was the most interesting thing that’d happened to you since you started working at the shitty little gas station so long ago. Plus there was something about the look in Angel’s eyes that made you believe that he was an adventure that you’d be up for.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you smiled.

Angel chuckled as he took his phone out of his kutte and handed it over to you, “If you give me your number, I can give you a, uh, a little courtesy call next time I’m around.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his phone. For a moment you contemplated putting in a fake number, but going against whatever little alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind, you gave him your real one before handing the phone back over to him.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go, Angel,” his brother called from his bike with a laugh.

“Looks like you gotta go,” you nodded in the direction of their bikes.

“I’ll see you ‘round, querida,” he shot you a wink before turning to walk away.

“Try not to shoot anyone, boys,” you called after them with a laugh.

Angel smiled over at you as he clipped on his helmet, “No promises.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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adrian-the-lonely-writer · 3 years

Text

Transitions

A fluffy 'Dean WinchesterXTrans!Male' Reader one-shot where you had come out to Dean, and Dean decided he's going to do everything he can to support you.

“So,” Dean began. His heart was pounding. He rather be facing any number of ghosts and ghouls to avoid fucking this part up. Hell, he’d even take a few demons over this. Anything over these tense emotional moments. Still, he was glued to the bed, hand holding yours. He loved you. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of helping you.

“Y-yeah?” You stumbled over your words. You had no idea how your boyfriend was going to handle the news. Tears were threatening to fall over your cheeks as you kept your eyes glued to the floor.

Dean swallowed. Dammit, his brother mentioned something like this in the past. Why couldn’t he remember now? “Well in that case, I suppose we better get you some comfier clothes. C’mon.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. Looking up, you saw that same smile dance across his lips, the same smile you fell in love with. “Wouldn’t want my boyfriend to be uncomfortable.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped into his arms, relief and love washing over you. Dean just chuckled, quietly as he shifted to wrap his arms around you, squeezing you against him. “Thanks Dean…Thank you so much.”

“Of course. You have a different name you like to be called now?”

“Y/N now- I uh, kinda picked it out when I realized I just-”

“Y/N is perfect babe.” His lips left a light little peck at your nose. “C’mon. Sammy’s with Bobby looking for another job, let’s take the day to get you feeling as good as possible, hm? I just had that great poker payout-”

“I thought that was for silver bullets-”

“Pshh. I can win another game or too.” Dean went to smile, but it quickly drooped into a frown. “Your clothes...do they make you feel-” He tried to find the right word.

“Dysphoric? Well I mean a bit. I didn’t exactly have time to choose great clothes when I ran off with you Dean.” Before you could even finish your sentence, Dean was digging through his duffle.

“I was going to drop them off somewhere, they feel a little small.” Dean grinned, poking his head back up. In his hands were an AC/DC shirt and an old pair of jeans. He even pulled out his spare hunting boots. “Might not be the most practical all the time, but we’ll get you some stuff today.”

You tried not to cry once again.

Few minutes later, you found yourself wrapped up in your boyfriend's clothes, in the passenger seat of the car. AC/DC rang out through the speakers. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You...really don’t mind Dean?”

“Mind? Why the hell would I mind?”

“Well you were into me as a-”

“I am into you, period.” Dean smiled a little. “Masculine, feminine, It makes no difference to me. You are still you. So, clothes we’re doing. Not half assed Walmart clothes either, we’re gonna get you some good hunting gear.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. “Masculine fake IDs from now on, easy enough. Anything else you need?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure...I kinda like what Sam does with his hair so I don’t think I’ll cut it off yet. It isn’t as long as his at the moment anyway.” You giggled at the scrunch in Dean’s nose at the mention of his brother.

“Cute guy with a ponytail never hurts either. Ah. Here’s the shop.”

“Dean this is a mall-”

“Yeah, sporting goods, including guns, bullets, as well as various clothing stores to get you what you need. Plus crowds to blend into. Malls are great Y/N.” He turned into the parking lot, picking a spot somewhere in the middle. “Plus, the impala doesn’t stick out too much here.”

Dean slipped out of his side, opening the door for you before you were even unbuckled. His calloused hand still felt tender as it grasped yours tightly, pulling you towards the store.

Your boyfriend was right after all. The crowds were seamless and the selection would be much greater.

“I’m thinking, we hit the sporting goods store, get some food and supplies. Take our time with it. Then just meet up with Sam and Bobby for the job, sound good Y/N?”

“Sounds perfect Dean.” Your smile was glued to your face as you leaned against his arm walking into the shop Dean had picked. “Is this where you got all your flannels and things?”

“Most of em, yeah. Why? You like that one?” He winked as he saw your cheeks turn a little pink. Sure, you loved the flannel. It made you feel more you, it also smelled like the man you loved more than anything.

“Well it’s nice and warm and-” You tripped over your words again. “Just really nice hunting clothes ya know? Like durable enough you have some protection, it’s also warm enough for nights but I can always open it ya know.”

“Great. So a couple flannels. Some jeans that won’t trip you up. Shirts.” Dean guided you to the clothing area of the store, whipping out his cellphone.

“Dean? Something the matter?” He doesn’t often look at his screen with that much concentration.

“Nope. I was just looking at a size chart.” He matched his screen to a couple of the tags. “These your colors?” He held out some forest green flannel and a black shirt.

“To start with, yeah! Although lighter colors are still nice. I don’t want anything thinking I’m your little brother if I match your style.”

“My style is functional and timeless. Plus, if I had a nickel for everyone who thought Sam and I should-” He scowled as you laughed. You couldn’t help but pick up those books when you saw them. Plus, as prank wars broke out it definitely gave you an upper hand.

“Alright, I concede your style is wonderful Dean.”

“Damn right it is.” He smiled a little. “But I get it, c’mon. Let’s walk around and see what catches your eye.”

The two of you scoured the store from top to bottom. Dean’s arms quickly became laden with fabric as you both approached the fitting rooms.

“Find everything you need sir, and-?” The guy in charge of the rooms spoke.

“Sir.” You introjected. Your heart rate spiked a little. Dean’s hand rested on your shoulder as he nodded to the cashier, as if confirming what you said.

“Of course, right this way. Here is your room, sir.” Without batting an eye the cashier escorted you back to try on your new wardrobe.

“Give 'em hell babe!” Dean called after you, taking his seat. He fiddled with his phone. Sam had finally convinced him to upgrade, and this one had a camera on it.

Quickly, pulse racing, you put on the first outfit of clothes, and slipped outside to model for Dean. Your nerves subsided when met with that goofy grin of his, and you couldn’t help but match it.

“You look amazing.”

“I feel amazing.”

“Wanna try more?” Dean snapped a photo. “That’s gonna be my new cell wallpaper.” You stuck your tongue out to him, a look he cheekily returned.

You went through this a few more times. Different mixed and matched outfits and hunting gear. Dean flirting with you every time you slipped into his sight. Soon you had a week's worth of clothes, with some extras to wear during a wash. Eventually you made it towards the food court, carrying the bags. You both went immediately to the burger stand and sat down.

“Fucck~” Dean’s eyes were closed in bliss. “I forgot how amazing these burgers were.”

“God we ate at gas stations so much I had forgotten food could be juicy.” You were devouring your burger as ravenous as Dean was. Oblivious to the look he was giving you.

Dean just smiled, chewing as he looked at you. It had only been a few months since you were traveling with him. Demon blooded kid like Sammy, you wanted to be able to help. Truthfully you were thankful they accepted.

Dean sometimes kicks himself at night for almost saying no. He had fallen for you, hard, the first time you rode in the back of the car. The way your eyes lit up as his own music started to play. The way you got along with Sam. He had fallen hard. You were perfect in his eyes now as you were then.

“Dean?...” Your voice was quiet, head against the window. After eating Dean had loaded you and your new things into the impala before starting to make your guy’s way to Bobby's place.

The excitement of the day had driven your eyelids to a close by this point. The soft rumblings of the engine were lulling you to sleep. Dean’s hand found yours once more, with a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah babe?”

“I love you Dean…”

“I love you too Y/N.” His words were the last things you heard before finally succumbing to sleep.

Dean drove on, hand never leaving yours. He had found the best boyfriend in the world, and he intended to keep things that way.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #trans man #trans pride #trans reader #pride #dean winchester x transreader #transmasc #trans ftm #gay ftm #ftm

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toomanyfandoms02 · 3 years

Text

The Gala -- JJ Maybank (Part 2 of 2)

Summary - JJ loves to pretend he is someone else, so going to a gala and pretending to get engaged ( for free drinks of course ) is just his speed

Word Count - 1.5k

My favorite half of this mini series :)

SEND ME JJ REQUESTS!! If you look up 'prompts' or 'dialogue' in my search bar it can give you some ideas!! I need some :)

Once we pulled up I saw a few valet drivers standing at the front of the huge building.

"Won't, this place is ridiculous." I gasped, looking at the white palace-looking place.

"I know, can't wait to cause a small ruckus." He rubbed his hands together and I shook my head at him.

"Okay, JJ, you gotta keep it together, we are in figure 8 and we are 21. The slightest bit of maturity is needed at least until we are inside." He nodded enthusiastically at me, putting on a serious face. I pulled up to the valet service and just as I went to open my door JJ told me to stay inside. I furrowed my eyebrows at him as he took the keys and handed them to the driver.

"Just a sec, I've gotta get the door for my lady." The driver nodded with a smile. He came to my side and opened the door politely, grabbing my hand and helping me out.

"Thank you, love." I said, grabbing his hand and waving to the drivers as we made our way to the door.

"Hello there, name please?" The usher asked with a smile.

"Y/n Y/L/N and JJ Maybank. We are friends with Georges's cousin, he invited us." JJ lied confidently, pulling an invitation from his pocket.

I wonder where he got that, who knows with him.

"Alright, IDs?" He asked. I pulled mine from my course and handed it to him, JJ doing the same. He gave them a little once over and opened the door. "Enjoy your night." Once we were inside I turned to him.

"Where did you get that invitation?" I chuckled.

"Some kooks doorstep." He shrugged, handing it to me.

"Wow, they're really setting it up so anyone could take it and use it. No specific name on it or anything."

"Exactly. Wanna dance?" He asked, presenting his hand to me.

"Yes please!" I said as he dragged me to the group of people dancing on the tile floor. We danced to the fun upbeat songs for a while before there was a slow song.

"You wanna keep dancing or go get a drink?" He asked quietly.

"I need a breather, a slow dance shouldn't be too bad. Gotta keep up the couple facadé, right?" I said, putting my arms around his neck. He nodded in agreement, putting his hands on my waist. I laid my head on his chest and he rested his chin on my head.

"This is fun." He whispered, swaying with me. "We should do this more often."

"You can dance with me whenever you want JJ, we just happen to be in a very public place right now."

"I wanna dance with you anywhere, all the time." I smiled down at him and I could feel my face heating up for the second time that day, so I buried my face in his chest again.

"Let's get some drinks." I said as the song ended. I held his hand and pulled him to the bar. I slid some money on the counter. "Can I have a shot of tequila please?" I smiled at the bartender and she nodded. JJ scooted his stool closer to mine, putting his arm around me. It's like he *knew* he was making me flustered.

"Here you go, ma'am. Anything for you sir?" She turned to JJ.

"I'll have the same." She nodded and poured him one. I threw the shot back and put the shot glass on the table.

"Can I also get a shot of whiskey?" I smiled politely, JJ tilting his head at me.

"Of course." She poured me the shot. "Would you like a chaser? Some water?" She asked before I drank it. I nodded thankfully. She set a glass of water in front of me. I turned to JJ with a smile, hiding the shit glass.

"On three?"

"On three." He said back.

"One, two, three." We both took a shot and my face scrunched at the horrible burn and taste. I quickly chugged the water. JJ laughed at my dramatics.

"You alright there dear?" He asked teasingly, resting his hand on my thigh. I nodded enthusiastically.

"I am a-okay! But I *do* need to pee, so I'll be right back." I replied, sliding away from his grasp and heading to the bathroom. I went in and stood at the sink for a moment.

"Get ahold of yourself! It's a little game, none of this is real." I splashed some water on my face, realizing that I was in fact buzzed. I slapped my cheeks lightly a few times before going back out to the party. Just as I walked out I saw a girl sitting in my seat, clearly flirting with JJ. He looked *severely* disinterested. I felt a little out of control of my emotions and actions at the moment so I just let it play out.

I made my way back over to JJ, giving him a look. He gave me a 'help me' look as I walked towards him. I winked and sent him finger guns. I came up quite fast, making my way into JJ's lap, he wrapped his arms around me immediately.

"Hey, baby, who's this?" I tilted my head at her.

"I think she said her name was Tracy?" He said.

"It's Talia." He said with a slight mean mug. I felt JJ shrug behind me.

"I was just wondering where my girl went." He said against my ear, kissing the edge of it. I would have melted right then and there if I wasn't buzzed. Talia scoffed and left *my* seat, which caused JJ to laugh, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"She would not leave me alone. I mentioned you like 4 times." He shook his head. I shifted on his lap a little.

"Is that a box in your pocket or are you just happy to see me." I teased.

"Oh, I'm definitely happy to see you." He shot back confidently. "Speaking of, you think this is a good time for a proposal? Or should I do it during a slow dance on the dance floor?"

"Oh slow dance for sure. We want as many people to see you propose so we get free drinks." I giggled, kissing his rosy cheek. Conveniently, a slow song began to play.

"Can I have this dance?" He asked in a horrible British accent.

"Yes sir." I replied in a just as bad accent, standing from his lap and taking him to the dance floor. I put my arms back around his neck and his hands returned to my waist. We danced for about 30 seconds before he let go of me and nodded, I nodded back. He pulled the box from his pocket and got down on one knee. A girl dancing beside us gasped, hitting her husband's shoulder and pointing to us.

"Y/n, you are the light of my life. I've been in love with you for 2 years now and I don't think I could ever live without you. I've never had someone make me so happy, or laugh all day long. I can't even be in a bad mood around you, it's impossible. Your smile lights up my whole day, maybe even my whole week. Just when I think you couldn't get any better you do. I'm really, *really* in love with you." I furrowed my eyebrows at him and he gave a slight nod.

Wait.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Maybank?" He asked with a wink. I nodded slowly, and gave him my left hand, he slipped on the ring. I intertwined our hands.

"*Really* really?" I asked quietly, so no one could hear. He nodded nervously, avoiding my eyes. "Sweet." I smiled, pulling his face to mine and kissing him passionately.

He pulled me closer by my waist, still kissing me. I could feel him smile against my lips.

"Congratulations." I heard the woman next to us say. I thanked her and we got a slew of congrats from the room. Soon enough we were getting free drinks left and right. We sat at the bar and just took them.

"Is this why you wanted to do this?" I asked, taking a sip of my Margarita.

"To confess to you? Yeah, had to be something special. Plus, if you rejected me I could chalk it up to the game." He shrugged. "Foolproof."

"Lucky for you, I've been wrapped around your finger since we met Maybanks." I smiled, putting my hand on his cheek and rubbing my thumb across his face. He leaned in and kissed me again, tasting like alcohol.

"Same to you, Mrs. Maybank." He teased, poking the ring on my finger.

"We can be like this all the time now, right? I can call you love and you can call me the light of your life?" He nodded.

"And I can kiss you all the time now, right? Because I've been wanting to for years, I've gotta catch up." JJ pulled me closer by the stool I was sitting on, nearly making me fall but he steadied me.

"Absolutely." I replied, putting my forehead to his. We number noses a bit and he smirked.

"Perfect."

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj obx #obx #outer banks #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader

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prismatic-bell · 3 years

Text

@teashoesandhair since you have dragged me headfirst into this amusing Q-007 idea of yours, I want you to know I have come up with a plot.

The movie begins in near-darkness. We see Bond outside MI6 with a masked figure in black. There are sounds of a struggle. At last there’s a gadgety little beep and a door slides open.

BOND: you expect us to surrender?

HENCHMAN: No, Bond. We expect you to die.

A gun is raised, the trigger is cocked—and a phone rings. This phone turns out to belong to Q, who answers it with the charming “someone had better be dying, or you’re about to be” in the just-woke-up croak of a man still lying in bed with his eyes closed. A voice on the other end asks where he works. He asks “what time do you think it is, doing surveys before sunup?”

Bond’s voice comes on the line. It is EXTREMELY clear he’s reading from a script. He states the sins of the Empire can never be cleared, but they can be paid for. It’s quite clear from his voice that he’s in pain, although whether physical or emotional or both is up for question. Then in the same tone of voice he says “go left” and that is why Q rolls off the bed just in time for a bullet to go through it.

We cut to Q in power-walking down a hallway in MI6. He is wearing a polo shirt and looks deeply upset about this. A woman with a bun is jogging along beside him and apologizing because, she says, it’s the only shirt she still has from before. He stops, looks irritated, and says “M is dead. Her replacement just got kidnapped, the guy I’ve been seeing for the last three months was a plant, I almost got shot less than an hour ago, I’m reasonably sure someone is trying to assassinate the Queen, you and I are the only two people who made it to MI6 this morning, I’m freezing AND I STILL HAVEN’T HAD COFFEE.”

His coworker says they have to find Bond, who might have some information on what’s going on and, at the very least, is actually a 00 agent. She actually starts laying out a plan while Q finds a Keurig, brews a cup, and drains the whole thing in one go. She finally trails off while he gets to the bottom of a mug of genuinely alarming size. He plonks it on the counter, says he’s getting on his computer, and tells her to call the palace and ensure the Queen is under secure guard.

THE LADY WHO IS ABOUT TO BE 001 BECAUSE 001 IS POTENTIALLY KIA: someone took out all of MI6 in a night, including the 00 agents, and you’re going to trust a bunch of Beefeaters? Who all look the same in uniform? As though they couldn’t be impersonated?

Q: …..fuck.

Q, who is currently the closest thing MI6 has to a head of command, calls the palace in an official capacity to speak to the Queen directly. He announces he’ll be sending a 00 agent and under no circumstances should the Queen be without her. Outfits the new 001 with the usual—earpiece, fancy gun, IT toys—and, before he sends her off, says “give me your ID.” A minor argument ensues before he says “The only way to find all of MI6 is through the database. That means the reason they didn’t find you is because they were looking for a man, whose name would match with the one on your ID, now give it to me. The one time government backlog worked in your favor.”

She hands it over and asks what he’s going to do. To which he rolls his eyes so hard they might fall out of his head, and says: “I’m going to find Bond.”

The rest of the movie alternates between 001 and an action plot on her end, keeping the Queen out of danger and trying to gather intel from within the palace to see just how badly it’s been infiltrated, and Q first tracing a rogue computer signal and then sighing, grabbing a 00 kit, and taking off with something that looks like a cell phone but is actually a very tiny computer hooked into the MI6 mainframe.

This adventure proceeds much like a typical Bond outing, except that Q has to do it via backdoors and finding the nerdy interns and invisible staff of the high-powered people Bond would normally work with. He finds Bond, hacks him out of whatever mess he’s in, and they make for the exit in a firefight while Bond covers him and he ineffectually tries to assist. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to shoot a gun—it’s that previously, outside training, he has never NEEDED to, and he jammed the magazine. So as they go, he’s trying to fix the gun and keep an eye out for the door with the RFID scanner so he can get them the hell out of there. As they reach the door Bond runs out of bullets, Q finally gets his gun fixed, and as somebody aims to take off Bond’s head (complete with a laser sight, this guy’s not gonna miss), Q gets off his first shot for the entire scene and lays the guy out.

Q: ….fuck I just killed someone.

BOND: it comes with the job.

Q: it comes with YOUR job, I don’t have a 00 designation.

BOND: I’m promoting you.

Q: oh, thanks—WAIT—

(And then he shoots someone else. He still looks vaguely panicked about this. In all fairness to Q, he has had one HELL of a day and there’s been exactly one caffeinated beverage in it, and he still doesn’t have a cardigan.)

They get back to MI6 just in time for Q to pick up an errant GPS signal: missing agents! Four of them! That’s enough to make a skeleton recon team!

…but also, they’ve just gotten a phone call from the villain, congratulating Q on being SO clever…but not clever enough. The Queen is in imminent danger. 001 has evacuated her from the palace. “Ah, but London Bridge is falling down. Good day, Mr. Q,” says the villain, and hangs up.

From this, Q deduces that the Queen has been taken to St. Magnus-the-Martyr Church at London Bridge, and that it’s likely the villain means to blow it up. They need the extra manpower promised by that clutch of agents, but the villain made it sound like any moment the Queen would be dead. Bond announces he’s going after the agents.

Q: so that’s it then? We have to uphold the agency because England is about to plunge into chaos?

BOND: no. I’m going for the agents. You’re going to the church.

Which Q does, muttering under his breath the whole way. As he has been for most of this movie, actually. This is not the job he signed up for. But he goes, he gets in a very Bondish fight with his now-ex who is indeed a henchman for the villain, and just at the end when he COULD shoot him, he doesn’t:

Q: ….no. I’m not killing you. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: …..sorry?

Q: my sweater. That’s my sweater, I’ve been freezing all day. Give me my sweater.

HENCHMAN: *extremely confused, but complies*

Q: *puts it on* better. Where were we again? Oh. *definitely shoots the henchman* Your Majesty. My apologies.

….to which the actual villain pops in with some sarcastic applause and an appropriate Bond Villain Speech(tm). Q realizes he has two bullets left and this asshole is staying just enough in the shadows that Q can’t accurately clock him.

There’s some sarcastic banter, during which 001 manages to get the Queen away again. The villain is pissed, but he’s like “that’s fine. You are, yourself, just a representative of corruption” and takes aim….

….just in time for the actual, original 001 to put a gun to the back of his head.

In the end:

1) The Queen is safe*

2) Bond is designated M

3) The lady Q designated as 001 is redesignated as Q. Also, in thanks for her service to the Crown, the Queen personally pushes through Lady Q’s ID with corrected gender on it.

4) The found MI6 agents begin seeking their counterparts, most of whom are alive and imprisoned rather than killed.

5) And, at the Queen’s suggestion—she’s shocked to find out all of this was masterminded by an IT tech, not a heavily-trained agent—Bond makes Q’s promotion official, and designates him 007.

ROLL CREDITS.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

*say what you want about the British monarchy and I’ll probably agree with you, but this is An Extremely British Franchise, so she’s got to live.

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years

Text

Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now.

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face.

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions.

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #reader insert

113 notes · View notes

chefdoeuvre · 3 years

Text

Instinct

Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader

Description: No matter how hard you try to hide it Jay can read you like an open book.

Words: 1,479

Requested: yes by anonymous; So I thought it would be cute if Jay and reader have just started seeing each other secretly and she's acting off and quiet at work and he notices before everyone else please?? Thank you x

Warnings: angst (if you can even call it that), mentions of cancer, fluff as usual.

A/N: I just want my own Jay Halstead. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

After leaving Jay's place early that morning you made your way back home. You hadn't initially planned on staying the night, but there was something about being in his arms that made you not want to get up. You pulled up to your building and ran up to your apartment. Hurriedly heading inside you made a beeline for the bathroom and took a quick shower. Once you finished up your shower you pulled on your normal work clothes, which consisted of a plain shirt and jeans. Grabbing your holster and your badge you clipped them onto your jeans. You headed to the kitchen and scrounged for some form of quick breakfast before you would head off to your usual coffee shop.

Just as you began quickly munching on a granola bar your phone began ringing from the couch where you had tossed it when you walked in. The caller ID was your mom, so with furrowed brows, you answered the phone.

"Mom?" You asked.

A sniffle was heard on the other end before she spoke, "hi, sweetie."

"Mom, what's wrong?" At this point, you had started pacing and racked your brain for what possibly could have gone wrong.

"It's your father..." Your mother began, but she trailed off.

"Is he?" You couldn't even say the words out loud.

"No! It's not that, he went to the doctor the other day." She took a deep breath before continuing. "They said he has lung cancer." Your mom quickly explained after realizing where your mind had gone.

"What else?" You questioned in a whisper, holding your tears back to be strong for your mother.

"They caught it early, he's starting chemotherapy soon. Hopefully, he'll beat it since it's in the early stage still." Your mom continued.

"Can I talk to him?" You asked as you chewed on your lip, a bad habit you did whenever you became nervous.

The shuffling from the other end was heard and then your father spoke, "hi, honey." Even with his recent diagnosis, you could hear the smile in his voice, that's how he always was, happy no matter what.

"Hi, daddy." You whispered with a small smile from hearing your father's voice.

"I heard you finally got into Intelligence, I hope Hank is treating my best daughter well." He laughed, even if you had been in the unit for quite a while every time you talked he would tease Voight about treating you well, they had been best friends since they were young.

"Dad, I'm your only daughter and I've already told you, it's going great." You laughed, shaking your head.

"That's good to hear. Now, I don't know what your mother told you but don't worry about me, I'll be back to the same old me soon enough." Your father reassured you, "and shouldn't you be heading to work now?" Your father asked in a teasing tone.

"Alright, dad. And yeah I should, but it's fine one late won't kill my career. I'll just bribe Voight with his favorite coffee order." You joked.

"Bye, sweetheart." Your parents both said before ending the call.

Wiping the stray tears off your face you decided to skip out on going to the coffee shop and would just drink the burnt one they had at work. Taking a deep breath you set off to work, pulling on a coat and pocketing your phone.

Walking into the district you greeted Trudy with a small smile and headed up the stairs to Intelligence. Making your way to your desk Jay looked over to you and sent you a wide smile. In response, you gave him a tight-lipped one back. He furrowed his brows at your behavior, but decided he wouldn't push it and chalked it up to the early morning you had after leaving his apartment to make it on time to work.

The day got off to a quick start with you guys getting a case within an hour of arriving to work. Throughout the entire time, you had been silent and only spoke up to provide important points that the others missed. After uncovering more information Voight began setting up a sting. You were paired up with your usual partner, which just so happened to be Jay. This also was the reason why you had kept your relationship a secret, so much so that not one soul knew besides the two of you.

You were off in a corner pulling on your vest when Jay came up behind you to help.

"Hey, you alright?" Jay whispered, sweeping your hair to one side.

"Yeah, I'm good." You answered shortly, Jay caught on to this because whenever he would ask you a question of some sort you'd always babble on about the little things that made you happy that day.

This was the second thing today that set him off which made him furrow his brows in confusion. You were all smiles when you left this morning and he was racking his brain for anything he might have said to upset you, but came up with nothing.

After strapping on your thigh holster and checking your gun you hopped into Jay's truck and waiting for him. You looked down at your jeans and picked at the hole by your knee from when you tackled a perp. The sound of a door opening made you lift your head and you were met with concerned blue eyes. You did your best to give the man a small reassuring smile before directing your attention back to your lap.

Tilting his head like a confused puppy Jay eyed your movements carefully. Whatever was wrong had bothered you so much that it made you find your shoes the most interesting things in the world at the moment. Giving you one last glance Jay turned the key and started the car.

You guys quickly headed in and were out within minutes. Apparently, the offenders were in way over their heads and dropped everything after Intelligence busted into the warehouse. Dragging the last person out you handed him off to an officer and beelined to Jay's truck. Hopping in you let out a deep breath and pulled your hair out of the tight ponytail it was in. You leaned your head back before shutting your eyes. You didn't hear Jay get in and he examined your expression before announcing his presence.

"Y/N?" Jay spoke up.

Your eyes shot open and you spun around in your seat to face your boyfriend. Your eyes were wide at the sudden sound, you hadn't even realized he entered the car.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Jay asked, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, letting your head fall onto Jay's shoulder. Instinctively his hand went to your hair and raked through it. In this moment you were thankful for the tinted windows that hid the two of you from plain sight and the fact Jay had parked farther away.

"No, I'm not." You murmured quietly that Jay barely heard it.

"You wanna talk about it?" Jay asked pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I'll tell you about it later." You shook your head.

Later had come and now you sat on Jay's couch bundled up in a blanket while a Blackhawks game played on the television. Jay was in his room pulling out your favorite hoodie of his. Walking out he handed you the article of clothing.

"What's this?" You asked sitting up.

"Your favorite hoodie of mine." Jay shrugged nonchalantly as he took a seat beside you.

You thanked him with a small smile and he gave you a soft one in return. Once you had pulled on his hoodie, which was big and baggy on you, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He pulled you into his side and rubbed up and down your arms.

"My ears are open for whenever you're ready." Jay reassured you.

He had his fair share of communication problems when it came to sharing his feelings so he understood if you didn't want to talk about it just yet.

"It's my dad." You began with a whisper. Jay only nodded for you to continue.

"He got diagnosed with cancer, they called me this morning." Jay squeezed your shoulders as he hugged you tightly.

"Thanks." You said after a few moments of silence.

"For what?" Jay questioned.

"I don't know, for noticing?" You said, but it was phrased more like a question.

"I know you better than you think." Jay mused placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You let out a small laugh and wrapped your arms around Jay's waist tightly. The two of you stayed in that position the majority of the night until he had to practically carry to bed once you dozed off after the game ended.

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