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strniohoeee · 6 months

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i need me some more hoodrat chris bestie pleasee😣

maybe another scenario where reader is out with her friends and some guy won’t leave her alone so she says “ just wait till my man gets here ” and then the guy is like “ i ain’t scared of no lil white boy” and then chris shows up with his blicky 😋😋😋

Racketeer Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and her friends are out clubbing for her best friends birthday, but this one guy won’t leave them alone. She calls Chris and he’s ready to kill for her🖤

Warnings⚠️: Once again pure self indulgence of hoodrat Chris, but also there’s talks of a pew pew in here obviously🤭 so enjoyyyy

Song for the imagine: No Suburban, Pt.2- Sheff G

You get shot down if you play his songs

I keeps Glock round’, I would let it off

Chris hated it when I went out alone, or with my homegirls because he felt like he couldn’t be there to protect me. Honestly I preferred it because Chris would watch every one like a hawk, and was prepared to pop a cap on anybody.

Tonight was my best friend's birthday, and she wanted to go to all the clubs downtown, and bar hop, but she wanted it just a girls night out. So when I told Chris this you can imagine the shock on his face

“Just the girls….” He said looking at me

“Yes Chris, just the girls” I said laughing

“Ima be like Batman…sneaking into that bitch and hiding in the shadows” he said

“Okayyyy creeper much” I said laughing at him again

“I’m kidding ma, but if anybody tries some crazy shit you know what to do” he said

“Yes I do, call you, ignore the person and hope you don’t pop the guy” I said rolling my eyes

“Exactly! This is why I love you” he said coming over and kissing me

Tonight was the night of my best friends extravaganzas, and I was currently finishing up getting ready. Chris decided he would drop me off at the first club since he didn’t trust Uber drivers and me alone. He’s very protective

I had gotten all dolled up in a black short sleeve long bodycon dress with glittery silver heels on, and my glitter clutch. I had done my hair and makeup up (however you want it be)

I walked out to the living room to let Chris know I was ready to go

“Baby I’m ready” I said walking to him in the living room

“Ouuuuuu someone’s looking real fucking good” he said reaching his hands out to grab me

“Aww thank you baby” I said leaning down and kissing him

“Alright let’s head out” he said grabbing my hand and walking us to his car

After about 30 minutes we had gotten downtown and to the first club. He put the car in park

“Alight baby I Love you, and I’ll keep you posted the whole night” I said giving him a kiss

“Love you too mama, and just know I’ll be right by my phone. If anything happens please baby call me” he said with puppy dog eyes

“I will my love” I said giving him one last kiss before heading out

My best friend and our homegirls and I were all partying and having a blast, she got a VIP section in the third club we were at. I had a few drinks and I was feeling good. Texting Chris every 20 minutes that everything was okay, and even sending him selfies and pictures of the girls and me.

I had decided to go to the bathroom alone which was probably the first biggest mistake of the night. To get to the bathroom I had to pass the cigar smoking area and the men’s bathroom, and that’s when I started to realize I might’ve done something stupid.

As I was walking to the bathroom some man stopped me

“Hey beautiful, where are you headed?” He asked me

“To the restroom” I said bluntly

“You should come hang with the real gentlemen up here” he said smirking down at me

“No, I'm good. I’m here with my friends” I said giving him a fake smile

“They can join us too” he said looking over at his friends

“We all have boyfriends. No thanks” I said, and with that I walked to the bathroom

Should I tell Chris? Should I not…..no he’ll come in here and create a big ass show.

I finished using the bathroom, and had to walk back pass these animals

“Nothing weird come sit with us” he yells as I speed past him

“I said no! Don’t you understand the word no? Leave me alone” I said shooing him with my hand and walking back down to our VIP area

“Hey girl where you been” my friend asks me

“I went to use the bathroom, and this creep wouldn’t stop talking to me” I said to them

“Oh god don’t let Chris find out” she said and started to laugh

“Honestly if he keeps trying me I will call Christopher” I said to them

About 20 minutes later we were all dancing in the VIP area when I feel eyes on me from above, so I look up, and that creepy guy with all his friends were watching my friends and I…..they looked like they were hunting for their next snack.

“FUCKING GO AWAY” I yelled up at him

“JUST ONE CHANCE BABY, ONE DANCE” he yelled back

“YO CREEPY GUYS WE ALL HAVE SHOOTER BOYFRIENDS I SUGGEST YOU BACK OFF” my best friend screamed at him

“WE DONT CARE ABOUT NO BOYFRIENDS” he yelled back

“LEAVE US ALONEEEEE” my other friend screamed at them, and we just went back to dancing

I’m going to say another 20 minutes went by, and all of a sudden these guys are walking towards our VIP area.

“Y/N I’m thinking now’s a good time to call Chris” my one friends said

“I think I will” I said grabbing my phone out of my purse

But before I could call Chris this asshole came up to us

“Come on pretty girl, why won’t you give me a chance” he said frowning

“Like I said I have a man” I said sipping my drink, and not even looking at him

“Oh baby I won’t tell no one” he said smiling at me

“Can you go away like I literally keep saying I have a man, and I don’t want to talk to you” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Well too bad baby. I won’t stop” he said trying to walk closer to me

“Oh no” I said sticking my foot out and pushing him back with my heel

“Just fucking wait till my man gets here” I said grabbing my phone to call Chris

“I ain’t scared of no lil white boy” he said laughing at me

I hit Chris contact and put the phone to my ear

“Hey baby, parties over already?” he asked laughing a bit

“Chris…” I said, and he immediately knew

“Where are you? And who’s bothering you” he said, and I heard him get off the bed

“I’m at Raven, and it’s some guy here who will not leave the girls and I alone. Like I just had to push him away with my foot he was getting so close” I told him

“Stay right there baby, and Ima be there real fast” he said, and I heard him load up his gun, and cock it

Oh boy these guys were in for a treat. About 30 minutes passed, and I saw Chris walking through the crowd

“Yooo Christopher” my best friend said giving him a handshake

“Thank you baby” I said as he came and sat next to me on the little couch

“Always baby, always” he said kissing my head

“Other than that creep how’s the birthday night going” he asked my friends

“Oh it’s going greattttt” they all said clearly very tipsy

I saw the guy again in the crowd watching us, and I knew he was about to come over

“That’s him Chris” I said tapping Chris, and having him look at the guy

Chris looked over at the guy dropping his face, and giving the guy a smug smirk

The guy still had the balls to walk over

“Ahhh the little boy toy” the guy said walking into our area

“Mmm I’d watch how I’m speaking to my man” I said to the guy

“Or what?” He said laughing

Chris laughed and leaned back allowing his pistol to be slightly exposed in his waistband.

“I’d choose my next words carefully” Chris said looking at the guy

“Who do you think you are” the guy said getting pissed

In a swift moment Chris got up, pulling the guy close to him, and placing the pistol at the guys dick

“I’m her boyfriend, and she’s been telling me you and your little stupid ass friends have been bothering her and her friends all night. Is this true” Chris asked him

“I don’t know what she’s saying” the guy said looking at Chris in fright

“IS THIS TRUE” he said pushing the barrel harder into the guys dick

“OKAY YES YES” he said getting scared

“If a lady tells you no, and she has a man you BACK THE FUCK OFF” Chris said to the guy

“Yeah yeah sure I got it” he said starting to sweat

“I’m not sure that you do get it…..maybe I have to pull the trigger” Chris said and started to cock the gun

“NO NO IM SORRY OKAY. I NEVER MEANT TO BOTHER THEM IM SORRY PLEASE LET ME GO” the guy started to weep into Chris arms

“Yeah, and guess what you’re paying for their whole tab, or I’ll be waiting outside for you, and I’ll split your fucking wig GOT IT” Chris said to the guy

“Yes I’m sorry I’m sorry” the guy said putting his hands up

“Now get the fuck outta here you fucking pussy before I change my mind and blow your dick off” Chris said pushing him back

The guy ran away, and Chris placed the pistol back in his waistband

“Fucking pussy….the fuck he thought he was” Chris said looking over his shoulder at the scared man

“Uhhh I love when you do that Chris” I said pulling him in to sit next to me

“I told you I’d do anything for you, and if it means popping someone…I’m gonna fucking do it” he said slinging his arm over my shoulder and giving me a kiss.

“To Chris for saving the day” my best friend screamed and we all cheered our cups together

I guess I’m in love with a shootah!

The End

I loveeeeee hoodrat Chris like okayyyyy😋🤞🏽. Lmk if yall liked this one as much at the first one 💋💋💋Also sorry I didn’t post at all yesterday I just wasn’t in the writing mood, but now we’re back🤭🫶🏽

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo

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s-4pphics · 9 months

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pls tell us more about gambler abby 😩😩😩

HCCCCCC LIIIIIISSSSTTTT

-wears suits everywhere it doesn’t fucking matter

-to the grocery store. clubs. makes sure to wear her best to her enemies funerals after robbing and killing them

-the best card shuffler known to man make this bitch a magician fr💯💯💯 SHES A G!!!!!

-before she became rich she was a pitpocketer!!!! snatching old people’s watches of their wrists like it wasn’t shit

-has henchman🤭🤭 bc ain’t that what rich ppl do? girl idk just go w it

-very eloquent :3 what are you a dictionary LMFAOAOOAO

-drives with one hand bc she’s sexy…. the other one just rests on her thick ass thigh

-when she’s at the strip club she slides hundred dollar bills in their little thongs🥰🥰🥰 she loves showing them appreciation

-emotionally unstable?? LMFAOAOAO

-anger issues like fuck when she loses she’s ready to shoot somebody like calm yo ass down BUT SHES NOT A YELLER

-a silent rager if u will😨😨

-dtf 24/7

-incredibly neat. always has her shit organized

-buys self driving cars so somebody can ride her dick on her way to the casino bc she’s reckless

-loves spending coins on her lil sugar babies

-gets them whatever tf they want

-if it ever came down to her losing everything she would spend her last on them😞😞😞

-owns a jet bc rich ppl r annoying

-a fighter. she fights. she can fight.

-has a lil glock in her glove box😞😞 can’t trust these hoes fr

-a voyuer and a cuck LMFAOAOA loves watching ppl and her sugar babies fuck

-this is random but has the prettiest signiature

-a thief???? like she steals LMFAOOAKA QUEEN

-has hand tats and a penthouse

-fat dick

STAFF DO WE CONCUR!!!!

#nonnies ✄┈┈ ˚#gambler!abby #abby anderson smut #abby anderson au #abby anderson hcs #abby anderson #abby anderson headcanons

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mbakuetshurisprincess · 1 year

Text

Love for Duty’s Sake Part 5

AN: Hello loves! Wow when I tell y’all I was FIGHTING in the editing room with this fic because I couldn’t tell if I should split this in half or not. I ended up just keeping it as one because I felt bad for ignoring democracy (sorry lyric) and posting Anything But Love P2 before I posted this one. A couple of fun facts about this fic because I literally have nowhere else to put them lmfao. In the convo with Griot, the reason Y/N’s argument works on him is because it follows a valid rule within arguments/logic called Hypothetical Syllogism. Basically, If A leads to B and B leads to C then you can correctly assume that A should also lead to C. Google it if you’re interested! Also, in writing Shuri’s interactions (esp the “in my wife's name” parts) it's like very heavily inspired by the way Dracula talks about Lisa Tepes in the Castlevania show!!

Holy fuck don’t know how I could ever forget this. As always, any of my fake dating stuff is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright. This is my writer bae y’all have no idea, L4DS and ABL posts are always made with them in mind.

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, violence, brief mentions of bad relationships with parents that’s it I think.

Word count: 6,213 (you see why I was thinking about splitting it up now??)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Masterlist. Taglist.

Suggested listening: Glock Six (Bonus) - 6LACK

“No need to state the obvi', I be close to your heart I know you looking for real love I got my hand on my Glock, posted on the block I might just let off a shot, at anyone tryin' to kill her”

The feeling of your body sliding off of your wife and onto the hospital pillow below you was the first hint that something was off. You knew Shuri didn’t mean to be so rough with you, even if you hadn’t been injured. She just hopped off of the bed quicker than her mind could remember that you were laying back on her. Only when you grimaced slightly did Shuri think enough to look back at you.

“Ndicela uxolo sthandwa sam (I’m sorry my love).” She muttered to you softly, scanning your body just long enough to ensure that you weren’t really hurt before turning her attention to Aneka. “When was this posted?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

Shuri took a deep inhale, rereading the post. “How did she even know about the shooting to post?”

The question was impossible for Aneka to answer, knowing something like that wasn’t necessarily in her job description. You, however? You were used to political moves like this. “She knows because the shooting happened in her city Shuri.”

“What?” Shuri turned to face you.

“I’m just saying, if something goes down in the Golden City, you’re made aware right? The same thing goes for DC. Especially on a day like today, foreign powers come into town. I’m sure she was all over it.” As you spoke, wheels started turning in your head, the scenario surrounding the events of your shooting. Everything was almost too perfect like it had been orchestrated.

“Listen to what you just said Y/N, I’m notified when something happens in the Golden City, not you. So why would she be the one posting about this instead of the President?” Shuri’s tone was harsher than you would have liked, posing the question to you as if you were a child misunderstanding basic math.

You sat up in your bed. “Because President Carter isn’t leading the show, Mallory is.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I know it’s true.” You folded your arms across your chest, starting to get annoyed at Shuri’s refusal to see what was clearly right in front of her. “Do you not trust me?”

The question was loaded and the Queen’s response came instinctually, “The question is not if I trust you, we are married of course I trust you. But you make it increasingly harder to trust you when you put forth ideas like that.” Shuri mimicked your position, crossing her arms over herself.

Her response stung and the look on your face made Shuri regret saying it immediately. “I did not mean-”

You cut Shuri off, not wanting to hear what she had to say. “Nope. You said it. What do I know anyway? Not like I come from a family of politicians who would make this exact same move given the chance.” You turned your attention from where Shuri and Aneka stood back to the tv, effectively disengaging from the conversation.

Warning signals were going off in Shuri’s head and she knew she fucked up. Taking one more look at the screen she made her way back over to your bed. Kneeling next to you and taking your hand in hers. “I am sorry, sthandwa sam. (my love) I didn't mean to brush off your idea like that. Your attention still faced forward but the Queen could feel the race in your heart rate when her thumb traced over the lines of your knuckles.

The silent treatment you were giving Shuri was frustrating her, if she had just slowed down as Okoye said, she would've thought about what she was saying before she said it. “I promise I will make it up to you-”

The buzz of Shuri’s kimoyo beads pulled her attention away from you and her apology.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

It was a message from Okoye letting her know that they had all made it back safely to Wakanda and that Liam Drockers was in the lower-level interrogation rooms. Aneka must’ve gotten a similar message from Ayo because when she made eye contact with Shuri, she gave her a knowing nod as she left the room.

“I will make this up to you… when I am free again.” The end of the sentence tumbled slowly out of Shuri’s mouth, knowing it was going to garner a reaction from you.

“What?” Instead of your voice sounding angry like the Queen had expected, it almost sounded more hurt or scared. This new tone pulled at Shuri’s heartstrings. “You’re leaving?”

While yes, you were literally just ignoring Shuri ten seconds ago, you hadn’t expected her to just up and leave like that. Especially given how physically close you two had spent the last hour, part of you had grown attached to her in a way you never imagined possible. Addicted to the safe feeling that only seemed to come when you were in her arms.

“I have some council business I have to take care of.” Her rubbing of your hands still hadn’t stopped, tracing every detail of your knuckles.

You looked at her now, teeth biting at your bottom lip. “What do you have that’s so important?”

“Just some time-sensitive stuff I need to handle. It should be quick, I don’t imagine it will be long.” Her eyes were averted, so you had no read on what possible clues they could be conveying. Something about this bothered you, normally she was so demanding of your eye contact and now she wasn’t even looking up. But you knew Shuri, whatever this was she wasn’t going to give up easily. You needed something to garner her attention first before you asked her what you needed to know.

“I think I’m gonna call home.” Shuri’s eyes instantly flashed up to yours.

“Really?”

“I think so, I don’t want my family worrying about me, you know? I don’t want them thinking I’m dead or anything. Now that Mallory has so kindly let the world know about this.”

Shuri hummed in response, debating asking the question at the forefront of her mind. “I thought- I mean, I didn’t know you had a way of contacting them.”

This made you feel a little bit guilty since you had made it seem like you’d given Genelia up for good. “It's a direct line to my father's advisor, only for emergency purposes.” Your eyes flickered around her face. “I’ve never used it, I didn’t think I’d have to.”

Shuri felt assured in hearing this, the slight worry that had slipped into her mind about you secretly planning to leave her dissipated. “Oh, okay.” She savored these last few minutes of her hand tracing yours, knowing that soon those same hands who held yours so delicately would be used in the complete opposite manner.

“Shuri?” The way you called her name was soft, the same way you had in the restaurant before all of this had happened. It made her feel warm inside, lowering her guard just as you intended.

Her response once again was just a hum, her eyes studying every detail of your face the way her hands did yours.

“You wouldn’t lie to me right?” Your question caught her off guard but her rubbing never stopped.

“Kakade hayi, sithandwa sam. (Of course, not my love)” Her eyes conveyed no sign of lying so you continued.

“So it’s really council business that's so pressing you have to take care of it right now? Not anything to do with me?” You asked the question confidently, not taking your eyes off Shuri, searching for a tell. Anyone else would have missed it but you didn’t, the brief second when Shuri’s movements faltered. When her hand stopped rubbing yours.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

She stood up now, letting go of your hand. Being at eye level with you was too much right now, it felt too connected given the fact that she was literally lying to your face. “Yes, it’s council business like I told you before. Very time sensitive.” Before you could respond she spoke again. “Aneka!”

The Dora appeared in the door frame with lightning speed, “Yes, ngangamsha (your majesty)?”

“Guard Y/N’s side of the ward while I deal with this business, make sure no harm comes to her.” Shuri’s words were confident and her arms now crossed her chest signifying her demeanor change.

“Shuri, I don't need a babysitter, I’m fine.” You protested. “Plus Aneka has yet to see Ayo, let them see each other.”

“I am fine, my Queen. Thank you for your kindness but ensuring your safety is more important.” Aneka responded quickly, earning a nod of agreement from Shuri.

Your wife looked down at her kimoyo beads. “I’ll be back in an hour, mfazi (wife).” Placing a kiss on your forehead, she looked down at you one more time before she left. “No trouble while I’m gone?”

“I’ll try my hardest.” You replied as she walked out of the room, Aneka behind her taking her spot guarding your room.

This left you alone with your thoughts and while a million things were running around your mind there were two prominent thoughts. One being, your wife was lying to you.

You couldn't be a hundred percent sure about exactly what she was lying about but you knew it had something to do with you. While you wanted to snoop around and try and figure it out, the second of the thoughts found its way to the forefront of your mind. Having to call you family.

Looking around you found your physical phone, the one that Shuri still referred to as ‘primitive technology’. Scrolling until you found the contact you didn’t think you’d ever have to press. Saying a prayer you pressed call and hoped for the best.

The line rang only one time before the person picked up. “This isn’t some sick joke, you’re really calling me?”

“Marcos, I told you I’d only call you in an emergency. I wouldn't play a joke like this.”

You could hear him recite a prayer on the other end of the line. “Everyones worried sick about you Y/N, I mean your parents think you’re…” His voice trailed off and it made your heart hurt thinking about the stress this whole situation inadvertently caused your family.

“I know, I know, that’s why I called. Can you just tell them that I’m alright? It’s nothing to worry about and I’ll be fine?”

Marcos contemplated your words, “Y/N, your father will kill me if he finds out I spoke to you without giving him the opportunity.”

The sound of movement from the other end of the line had you concerned. “Marcos wait, you know I don’t want to speak to them.” It was a useless plea and you knew it. As much as Marcos cared about you like you were his own daughter and wished to protect you as such. At the end of the day, he worked for your father.

“I’m sorry mon papillon (my butterfly)” The term of endearment did little to quell the feeling of betrayal as Marcos moved to give the phone to your father.

“Whoever it is Marcos, tell them they will need to call later, I am grieving my daughter.”

“It is about Y/N, sir.”

Your father looked between his advisor and the phone before picking it up.

“Yes?” This was the first time you had heard your father's voice in years. It had become too painful to go back and watch old home videos from before Yara’s death so part of you wondered if you’d forgotten what he sounded like. But as soon as his deep voice bellowed through the phone, you remembered.

“Dad? It’s me.” You were scared to speak the words at first, questioning how he would react.

“Y/N, is that you? Oh my god! Josiah, get your mother from the chapel, our baby is alive!” The outcry from your father made your heart hurt, had he been that concerned?

“Dad-” You tried to speak but his rambling cut you off.

“When we saw the news honey we were so worried about you, I thought you had died. But you didn’t! God brought you back!”

“Dad-”

“He’s bringing you back home to us!” He ended his rejoicing when you finally spoke up.

“Babba! What are you talking about?” Your pain medication must have been making you delirious and mishear things.

“What do you mean Y/N, this is a sign! You were almost taken from Genelia, from us. We need to come together and give thanks that you’re still with us.” Your father's words were confusing you, why was he saying that you were taken from them as if they weren't the same ones to send you away?

“I’m not coming home Dad, I was just calling to let everyone know I was okay-”

“Nonsense!” Your mother spoke now, you weren't aware when she arrived in the room. “You must come home, we miss you. This was a wake-up call, don’t you think?”

You paused now and took a deep breath. What they were asking was encroaching on a boundary you had set the day you left Genelia. To never come back. “I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea guys.”

It was now your parent's turn to pause while they thought about what they could say to change your mind. But it wasn’t them that spoke, instead it was a different voice. One that clearly held the tonal characteristics of a man but was still slightly squeaky signifying they hadn’t fully finished maturing.

“So you’re just never gonna come back? Is that it then?” If it wasn’t for your father's words earlier you wouldn’t have even been able to guess who it was. But of course, it was your little shadow who spoke up now. Josiah.

“Siah-”

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore. My sister, who loved me and didn’t just get up and abandon her family for a fancy new life in France, called me that. I don’t know who you are.”

Josiah’s words cut through you like the sharpest blade known to man, cutting deeper than any slick comment from Shuri. Is that really what he thought happened? That you left your family behind to go chase your dreams in a foreign country?

You didn’t care about your parents, quite frankly fuck them. Any emotional ties you felt towards them had long left you, so saying no to them while it was hard; it didn’t hurt. Saying no to Josiah though? Hearing the disappointment in his voice? He didn’t deserve this. To be caught in the crosshairs of the relationship between you and your parents.

“Fine!”

“Fine?” Your mother and father's voice asked in unison.

“Fine, I will come back to Genelia to visit.”

“Tomorrow?” Josiah’s voice questioned.

“Tomorrow? Siah I just got shot.” You tried to reason with your brother, and while you didn’t feel any of the effects of the shooting at this exact moment you still didn’t know if traveling so soon would be wise. Plus you still needed to explain this all to Shuri.

“You’re married to the smartest woman in the world and live in the most technologically advanced country. I’m sure they can figure something out.” Josiah left no room for argument in his sentence.

“Fine Siah, I will come to Genelia for a few days, flying in tomorrow. Happy?” You didn’t even understand why you were agreeing to this.

“Not in the slightest, I have no idea who you are anymore. I did that for Mom and Dad.”

That hurt more than Josiah knew. You tried to tell yourself that he didn’t mean it, but something in you couldn't believe it.

“Okay well, I’ve got to go. I’ll um talk to Marcos about arrival times and everything.�� You needed this phone call done, the gravity of what you had just agreed to started to weigh on you.

“Parfait! We can’t wait to see you soon Y/N. We love you!” You could hear the smile in your father's voice and felt guilt not only that you didn’t feel the same happiness but that you couldn’t reciprocate his “I love you” truthfully.

“Yeah I um, I’ll see you guys soon.” With that you ended the call, throwing your head back against the pillow.

As you sat in silence you digested what had just happened.

1. You called Marcos, just to let him know that you were alive.

2. You ended up on a phone call with your parents, speaking to them for the first time in years.

3. After declining to come to Genelia, you were guilt-tripped into returning by your little brother. Not because he wanted to see you but because he knew his parents wanted to.

All of this made your head reel and you longed for the peace and comfort that your wife provided. But she wasn’t here with you, her wife who had just been shot. Instead, she was dealing with council business.

“Griot.”

“Ah your majesty, I am glad you are in good health again. What can I do for you?”

You paused wondering if Griot was even able to give you this information. “Where is Shuri right now?”

“Shuri has programmed me to not disclose her location to anyone unless it is an emergency, I am sorry your majesty.”

Of course Shuri had done so, always wanting to keep tabs on everyone but not thinking anyone else needed to keep them on her. You wanted to give up before an idea popped into your head. “Griot, Shuri programmed me into your system as a Queen, correct?”

“Yes your majesty, she has programmed you with the same clearance as she has.”

Jackpot.

“And Shuri has access to her location status I would assume?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Great, so she has access to her location status, and I have the same clearance level as her/ You can give me her location.” Your reasoning was solid, creating a logical path that the AI could follow.

“Yes, your majesty, that does appear to be correct. One moment please.”Success. “Queen Shuri is in the basement, interrogation room one.”

“Interrogation room one?” You asked Griot again, you didn’t even know the palace had a single interrogation room, let alone multiple.

“Yes, the Queen has been in that room since she left you in the hospital wing.”

So she had been lying to you.

“Thank you, Griot, that will be all.”

There was no doubt in your mind that this had something to do with your shooting and that Shuri thought she was doing good by you by keeping you away from all of it. Trying to shield you from more pain. But that wasn’t what you asked for, it was what she decided you needed.

You touched your abdomen, trying to gauge your pain level. As Josiah had said, you were in the most technologically advanced country so truly your recovery wouldn’t take more than a few days. Right now, you felt good enough to hobble out of bed and make it out of your room.

Shuri wanted to lie to you? Fine. But you were going to go down to the basement to figure out exactly what she was up to.

You made it no more than five feet out of your room before a body in front of you haltered your progress.

“What are you doing out of bed ngangamsha (your majesty)? You should be resting.” Aneka’s concerned look surprised you. While you knew it was her job to protect you, you saw a twinge of genuine concern in her eyes.

“She lied to me Aneka.” You took a step to the side and then forward so she was no longer in your path. The dull twinge of pain let you know that this might be more difficult than your first few steps had made it appear, nonetheless you were going to make the journey.

“Intoni? (What?)”

“Shuri lied to me. She told me she had council business to take care of, but she didn’t. She’s downstairs in the basement right now. So I’m going down there to see what could be so important that she felt the need to lie to me.” You continued your walk towards the elevator pleasantly surprised that Aneka didn’t appear to try and stop you.

You took a few more steps before suddenly something pressed against the back of both of your knees, causing you to lose your balance. Falling back right into… a chair? Aneka stood above you, her hands on the handle of the wheelchair that she had just gently gotten you into. “I am not condoning you doing this, however, I know I can not stop you.”

You nodded, grateful to hear that.

“But,” Of course there was something. “I will not let you rip your stitches hobbling down there.”

A smile passed across your face and a similar one came to Ankea’s.

“Plus, I can talk to you while we make our way down there. I should fill you in, it is for the best.” Aneka pushed you forward as she began to explain just who was awaiting you in the basement.

While you two made your way down, Shuri, Ayo, Okoye, and your assailant were deep into their interrogation session.

To Shuri’s credit, she tried to be diplomatic about the whole situation. When she first walked into the room and saw Liam Drockers sitting down with Ayo and Okoye on either side of him, she imagined what her brother would say to her.

“Patience sisi.” He would say. “Regardless of what he has done, he is deserving of a fair questioning, the same as you and me.”

And she tried to take T’Challa’s advice, asking Liam simple questions at first.

“Are you an employee of Judas’s Ice Cream shop?”

No response.

“Are you working for the United States government?”

No response.

“Were you aware the person you shot was the Queen of Wakanda, Y/N Y/L/N Udaku?”

A small smile creeped up on Liam’s face after she finished speaking, but still, he said nothing. This infuriated her and she was about ready to cast this whole morally right thing to the side and get the information she needed through more direct means.

But then her mother's voice came into her head. “Do not let him remove you from yourself intomba (daughter).”

The Queen calmed herself, “I asked you a question. Were you aware the person you shot was Y/N Y/L/N Udaku, the Queen of Wakanda?”

While Liam's eyes had largely remained on the floor he pulled them up to her now, showing off the bored look they held. “I didn’t miss, did I?”

Shuri’s heartbeat increased, so he knew what he was doing. This was a planned attack on her wife? He knew who she was and still chose to take the shot?

“You still thinkin’ bout showin this fool mercy?” No. That was the one voice she didn’t want to listen to.

Okoye saw the look and Shuri’s eyes and when their gaze finally met, a wave of concern washed over her. She was losing Shuri to this.

Okoye’s suggestion for a break is what brought them outside, Shuri pacing up and down the hallway trying to decide how to move forward.

“Is it really that hard of a decision little cuz?”

“Shut up.” She spoke out loud. Ayo looked over to Okoye wondering if they should step in but Okoye shook her head, hoping that whoever Shuri was speaking to would provide the young girl some clarity.

“I’m just saying what you’re really thinking here. I mean he shot ya wife, you really cool with letting that slide?”

“I am not ‘letting it slide’, I’m going about it the diplomatic way N’Jadaka. Something I know you know nothing about.”

Erik laughed at that “Aww shit little panther got some bite to her huh? But you’re right I don’t know shit about the diplomatic way, what I do know however is how to get results, quickly. It’s cool though, give this mother fucker the time and respect he didn’t give to your wife. I’m sure that’s smart.”

His last comment drew Shuri over the edge. Done with the conversation and confident in her decision, she made her way back over to the door where Ayo and Okoye awaited her. She knew the decision she had come to was harsh but the only thing on her mind was ensuring your safety and getting to the bottom of this.

“If you do not want to stay for the next part of the interrogation, I am not ordering either of you too. This is the time now to back out of this, without any blood on your hands.” She thought for a moment about how literal her figure of speech was about to become. “Ngokunzulu (Seriously).”

Okoye looked Shuri up and down. It was in moments like these that she no longer saw the young girl she had watched grow up over the past ten years. The youthful glow had faded over and now left Shuri with a hard exterior that seemed to be ever-present. “Are you sure this is what you want to do ikumkani wam (my queen)?” Okoye offered this out to Shuri now, one shot to think clearly about her decision.

“A hundred percent.” Was Shuri’s simple reply.

That’s how they ended up here, Ayo holding Liam’s cuffed arms behind his back while Shuri issued blow after blow to his abdomen, turning him effectively into a human punching bag.

“You done with the games now Liam?” A punch landed on his stomach. “Are you ready to say something and give me the information I need to know?”

The whole ordeal hurt Okoye to watch but she understood why Shuri had shifted to such drastic means, it was only out of necessity.

Liam gathered his breath as Shuri removed the jacket she’d been wearing, leaving her in a compression shirt. “No words Liam, really?” She cracked her knuckles and delivered two more blows, one after the other. “That’s okay I’m sure soon enough you will.”

He shifted in Ayo’s arms for a few seconds for spitting the blood that had pooled in his mouth down at Shuris feet, giving her a defiant stare.

A smirk rose to Shuri’s face as she looked at the few drops of blood that had gotten on her sneakers. “You know Liam, I had been holding back in the name of my wife. I’ll tell you a secret since, quite frankly, the likelihood of you making it out of Wakanda to repeat this is slim to none. I don’t know much about my wife, we do not have the most conventional marriage so the real things I can say I know about her are few and far in between. But what I do know about my lovely Y/N, she hates violence and views it as the very last play in the book. Convinced me not to kill a spider once just because she said it wasn’t necessary.”

Shuri smiled at the silly memory of you cussing her out at home when she tried to kill a spider instead of releasing it outside.

“So, in her name, I haven't been using any of my enhanced strength. This,” She points to the purple bruises that had started to form on the skin of his stomach. “It's all me. But, since you want to be disrespectful and spit blood on my shoes, we’re giving all that up.” Quicker than anyone in the room could have seen, Shuri put her hands up and delivered a devastatingly strong blow to his stomach. Providing enough force that even Ayo had to take a step back to steady herself and absorb some of the shock of the blow.

You watched in horror from the other side of the glass in the interrogation room as Liam doubled over in pain, gasping for air. Aneka and yourself had been in the room just long enough to watch him spit blood on your wife's shoes.

“Now, we’re going to try this again.” Shuri started with the same line of questions from before. “Are you working for the United States government?”

Once Liam pulled himself together, he gave the Queen no answer, just continuing his stare of contempt.

Shuri chuckled, “Again then? Okay.” She let out another punch, Ayo being more prepared this time held Liam’s body tight.

“She’s gonna kill him Aneka.” You spoke quietly from the wheelchair as you watched the whole ordeal take place. “We can’t let her kill him, that’s not her.”

Aneka nodded, “But there is nothing we can do right now my Queen. Ayo and Okoye are in there with her, they will not let it go too far.”

“I need to get in there.” Shuri wasn’t going to listen to Ayo or Okoye, you didn’t even know if she was going to listen to you. But as far as you were concerned this had already gone far enough. You started moving your wheelchair towards the door but Aneka stopped you.

“Your majesty I cannot let you in there, bringing you down here was a breach of protocol enough. To have you in there would just be a blatant disregard for the Queen’s wishes.” Aneka declared.

Both of your attention was brought back to Shuri and Liam when she hit him in the same spot again, leading him to cough up more blood.

“You go in there and bring my wife out to me or I go in there and bring her out myself. Two choices, you pick.” You folded your arms like a child, waiting for Aneka’s response.

She looked into the interrogation room and back to you. “Bast you two are perfect for each other. Stubborn just alike.”

With that she left you, walking out and knocking before entering the other room.

“ikumkani wam,” She interjected, pulling Shuri’s attention from the man and onto the Dora.

“What is it Aneka, I am busy.” Shuri looked at her impatiently.

“uY/n ulapha kwaye angathanda ukuthetha nawe (Y/N is here and would like to talk to you).” Aneka switched to their mother tongue so Liam couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Shuri’s face faltered for a second. You were here? How long had you been watching? How much had you seen? “I am in the middle of an inter-”

The sound of you banging on the wall to indicate you didn’t care what she was doing cut Shuri off. She looked at Liam before speaking to Ayo and Okoye. “Put him down, I will be back shortly.” In a second Shuri was out of the room and opening the door to the other side of the interrogation room, meeting your icy gaze.

“What are you doing out of bed sithandwa sam (my love)?” Shuri’s concern was real, raking her eyes over your body.

“You lied to me.” You weren't wasting time tip-toeing around the subject,

“I was protecting you.” Shuri’s justification came quickly, as she took a step closer to you. The light illuminated her face better now and you were able to see the small spots of blood that had splattered on her face.

Against your better judgment, you called her closer to you “Come here.” She obliged kneeling so you two were at eye level, mimicking the position you two had been in this morning. You reached to hold her face in your hand, wiping the small dots of blood away with your thumb. “You lied to me,” You said again looking into her eyes.

“I was trying to-” Shuri tried again to explain this to you but you cut her off with a gentle tap to her lips with your free hand.

“I know you were trying to protect me Shuri, but I am your wife. You can’t lie to me.” The look in your eyes conveyed the seriousness of your comments.

The excuses started to form in Shuri’s mouth but she stopped them. “I- I know and I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.” She let her head rest in your hand and averted her eyes down, fiddling with the material from your hospital gown.

“Yes, you should have.” While your words were harsh, the tone and way you caressed her face let her know you weren't really mad with her.

“Let me make this right umfazi (wife).” Shuri declared sitting up so she looked you in the eyes once again. “The man, his name is Liam Drockers he-”

“I already know Shuri.” You smiled at your wife who looked at you cluelessly. “Aneka filled me in on our way down here, I know everything. I want to speak with him.”

Shuri pulled out of your grasp now, appalled you would even ask something like that. “Absolutely not Y/N, there is no logical reason to risk your life by putting you in there with him.”

“First there is no risk to my life, not only is he handcuffed but Ayo and Okoye will be in there with us. Second Shuri, you owe me. This has everything to do with me and you tried to keep it from me, I deserve at least one chance to speak with him. Alone.” You were confident in your rebuttal, Shuri tried to find a counterargument for every point you made but she couldn't.

“Five minutes with Okoye, Ayo, and Aneka inside with you.” Shuri brought her demands to the table and you thought about it for a second. Was she seriously that worried for your safety that she thought you needed three Dora’s in there with you and a restrained and beaten man?

“Deal.”

With that Shuri wheeled you out of the viewing area and to the interrogation room. Aneka held the door open and your wife pushed you through the entryway, stopping at the frame per your request.

“Oh yeah and pack a bag, we’re going to Genelia tomorrow.” You shut the door leaving your very confused wife on the other side. You two were going where?

In front of you sat a very bruised Liam Drockers, Ayo, and Okoye on his sides You always found it so funny how no matter how big or bad someone seemed, at the end of the day they were made of flesh and bones just like you.

Wheeling up to the table you sat and stared at your attacker for a moment. Trying to search for something you were never going to find, a reason or justification.

“Alright, Liam I’m going to make this very easy for you.” You interlaced your fingers and let them sit on the table, this is where you shined. “In the other room, my wife is waiting with bated breath for me to tell her it's okay to come in here and continue to beat the living shit out of you. Now me personally, as you heard before, I’m not a fan of violence. I think it's an unnecessary evil of the world, something we really can function without.” You paused letting out a chuckle. “Not that I think that you believe the same,” You gestured down to your stomach. “You clearly favor my wife when it comes to that way of thinking.”

Liam's eyes moved all over you, attempting to size you up as a threat.

“So, now that you know that much about me, let me tell you how this is going to work. Either A. we can make this super simple, you answer every question I have and agree to the plan we have in place. Or, I call my wife back in here and she beats you to a pulp.”

A wheezing breath came from your attacker and you couldn’t help but notice how weak he looked now, the beating from Shuri having done a good chunk of damage. “I’m not sayin shit, I know my rights.”

You smiled at this, leaning closer to him. “Your rights? You think your rights will protect you here?” The look on Liam’s face changed for a split second, his facade slipping. “You’re in the basement interrogation room of the most technologically advanced country in the world because you shot one of their Queens. You were flown in on a top-secret jet, there's no record of you ever even being in Wakanda. Nobody knows you’re here.”

“That’s- that’s not true.” Liam stammered out. “There are people out there who know who I am, who are looking for me.”

This got the heartiest laugh from you yet. “Mallory? Really? You think she’d save you?” The idea he was pushing was almost comical. “You were a gun for hire, you served your purpose and now there's nothing left for you to do, you were disposable from the beginning. Do you seriously believe she’d risk a national incident to save one measly hit man?”

The truthfulness of your words hit Liam like a ton of bricks, there was no getting out of this.

“So,” You began. “I’ll ask the question my wife has been trying to ask. What the fuck was your mission and who do you report to.”

Liam shifted in his chair, looking around the room as he assessed his situation. “It all started with Mallory.”

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tahastore1 · 11 days

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(via "In Glock We Trust-Patriotic Gun " Classic T-Shirt for Sale by tahastore1)

#findyourthing #redbubble #in glock we trust shirt #in glock we trust #In Glock We TrustTEE #In Glock We Trust tee #shirt design #t-shirt #shir #design #shirt #art #my art #fashion #glock 19 #glock 17 #glock

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

Text

First Date - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (NSFW)

NSFW - Mentions of torture and sex.

When Nestor meets you formally, you are torturing the shit out of the guy, he’s supposed to be torturing the shit out of. He’s seen you before with Marcus, always a warm greeting and a quiet conversation, sometimes an exchange of envelopes. He’s never been quite sure that it is you do for the other man until that day.

When he finds himself with a gun pressed to the back of his head he’s surprised. You move like a ghost, no tell-tale creaks or footfalls, no rustle of clothing, just the barrel of a Glock digging into his skull.

No one gets the drop on him; it’s refreshing until it isn’t.

When he turns to face you there’s a spark of recognition on both sides. You lower the gun as a professional courtesy before stepping aside and allowing him into the living room.

It’s a blood bath. The poor bastard is naked, tied to a chair with duct tape clasped over his mouth, his eyes wild and pleading as the two of you stand before him with your arms crossed. You’ve spent hours carving into him, nicks, slices, stabbing marks, all missing the vital places like organs and veins. Each cut a way of prolonging the pain. The sound of blood dripping onto the plastic sheet you’ve spread across the carpet is the only thing that can be heard throughout the house as Nestor surveys your handiwork. He’s seen it before just never this close. There’s a skill to it, he thinks you may have some medical training in your background because somehow this asshole is still breathing despite his injuries.

“I didn’t realise El Cuchillo was a woman.” He tells you, tilting his head to one side.

El Cuchillo.

The Knife.

“No one does.” You respond with a sigh. “Men don’t like to think woman are as capable of violence.”

“Evidently they’re wrong.” He says gesturing to the target, who’s breathing has elevated once more, now that he understands Nestor’s not the least bit phased at the abuse he’s endured. “What’s the job?”

“He molested the wrong person’s niece.” You inform Nestor, threading your fingers through your captive’s hair and yanking his head back so that you could look into those terrified eyes. “It ends when his body gives out and we are nowhere close to that yet. You?”

“Same crime, different buyer, someone close to us.” He responded before gesturing at your hostage. He watched as you released the other man’s head, shoving it away from you. “I’m supposed to make it painful, but it looks like you’ve taken care of that.”

“He’s ready for a change if you have something special in mind.” You told him with a shrug. “I have to go track down his hard drives anyway. He says they're in the bedroom, but he’s at the point of telling me anything he thinks I want to hear.”

Nestor admires the fear you’ve instilled in this man, he’s not broken, not yet but he’s getting there. He’s clinging to that thread of hope that someone will realise he’s missing, come to his rescue but Nestor knows you’ve both done your homework. There’s no one coming for him tonight.

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

Since you did the heavy lifting with the ‘interrogation’ Nestor thinks it’s only fair that he bears the brunt of the clean-up. By the time you’ve located the hard drives, he’s finished what you came here to do and moved the body to trunk of his car. He’s happy to dig the grave himself but you insist on coming along for the ride.

“I’d like to see it through.” You tell him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you…”

But it is what it is, you're freelance, he gets it. You need to make sure he does what he says he’s going to and truthfully, he doesn’t mind the company. He’s never met a woman like you, so forthright and practical, that doesn’t shy away from the harsher realities of life. You don’t mind getting your hands dirty. He admits there’s a beauty in your work, the dexterity of it, the elegance.

“I understand.” He tells you, tilting his head towards the hard drives. “You get what you need?"

“If he’s part of a ring I’ll find them.” You tell him.

He doesn’t ask what you’ll do to them, but he has no doubt that every one of them will die screaming.

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

To Nestor’s surprise you help with the digging. He thought you’d be exhausted after the length of your session with the dead fuckhead, but instead you’re in the hole with him, sweating despite the chill in the nighttime air. The two of you work in silence, it companionable, each in your own thoughts. He thinks you’re planning your next steps and he’s thinking about fate. The fact the two of you are in the same place, at the same time, working for two different clients. Shit like that doesn't happen for no reason.

There’s no protocol for this, the two of you live in dangerous worlds. You’re the first woman he’s met that gets it, that he doesn’t have to hide this part of himself away from. He thinks that’s potentially part of his attraction to you, the rest…

You have an oddly soothing presence. There’s a calmness in you, even after the act. It washes over him and he realises he can hear you singing under your breath as you shovel the next set of dirt. He knows the song, it’s one he’s grown-up hearing. He doesn’t realise he’s singing along until you tilt your head towards him, with a smile that makes him feel like he’s seeing the sunrise for the first fucking time in his life.

When he looks back he thinks that was the moment he fell in love.

Digging a grave in the desert and singing along with a beautiful woman.

It was fucked up, but to Nestor it’s one of his most treasured memories.

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

You’re both covered in dirt and grime, dust in your hair by the time you clamber back into the SUV. He can tell you're tired, he feels the same way. All the shit you’ve done tonight it takes a toll. Physically, emotionally, it leaves a hollow in the aftermath. It’s lonely, this life, Nestor has resigned himself that but now he sees it doesn’t have to be. He leans back in his seat, his hands on the steering wheel as he stares at the space where the two of you buried a body together.

“You got plans tonight?” He askes you.

Your cheek is pressed against the headrest. Your skin flushed with exertion, and it brings out something beautiful in you. He wonders if that’s what you look like in the height of ecstasy, eyes bright and burning for him. You feel it, he sees it in your face. That intensity in your expression, the one he feels deep down in his bones.

“A hot shower and a comfortable bed.”

The question is unspoken. It hangs in the air between the two of you in the silence of the car. He could stop, he could turn the engine on and drive you to wherever you need to go but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and kisses you.

It’s a wildfire that steals away his breath, it floods his senses, searing through them until he’s lost and the only thing he can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours. He hasn’t felt like this before, he's never allowed himself to. With you it’s easy to give in.

“Can I join you?” He whispers, his nose trailing along the length of yours as his thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek.

“I think you should.”

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

There’s a tenderness in Nestor that you don’t expect, it’s in the way he touches you underneath the shower water in your hotel suite. His hands, the ones that have committed unspeakable acts, are gentle as he explores your body. He kisses you like he treasures you, like you’re the most cherished thing on this earth and you allow yourself to fall into it. After all these moments are fleeting.

There’s not another man that makes you feel this way, that ever has and you want to make it last. You don’t know him, and he doesn’t know you, but somehow it feels like you do. Your palm comes to rest on the nape of his neck, holding him close so you can look into his eyes as your fingertips trail over the tattoos that decorate his torso.

There’s a heat burning inside of you, and he stokes it with lingering touches that make you moan into his mouth. He hasn’t touched you there not yet, you sense he wants to draw it out as long as possible so he keeps you in that heightened state of elation. Every single trace of his fingertips sends a burst of ecstasy through your synapses, and you never want it to end.

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

Nestor has you right where he wants you, amongst the sheets on a bed that costs more than most people make in year. The way the two of you fit together, it’s perfect. Like you were made just for him. A piece he didn’t even know was missing. You’re in his lap, his eyes on your face as he watches you, the pleasure in your features, the way your skin flushes as you tip your head back. His hands are on your hips as he thrusts up into you at a maddening pace, one that keeps you on the very cusp of ecstasy. He hears the hitch in your breathing, and he knows you’re close again, that you’re teetering. He knows if he just hits that sweet spot, he’ll send you tumbling over the edge and you’ll take him with you. But Nestor’s a disciplined man, he wants this to last, he wants to remember this night for years to come because he thinks maybe he’s found his soulmate and if he just gets to have this one night with you he’ll die happy.

So, he stops, he holds you in place as you tremble with euphoria on his cock and it takes everything he has not to snap, not to give you the completion you crave, that he craves too.

There’s an intimacy in this moment, a balance of trust, a vulnerability and when he looks at you he feels it. You’re giving a part of yourself to him, letting him see a side to you that one else has and he cherishes that because he’s giving you a part of himself too.

“I don’t want this to end.” You whisper against his skin.

“It doesn’t have to Pequeño Cuchillo.” He tells you as he begins to move again. “We’ve got all night.”

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reixtsu · 9 months

Note

can you do a ranpo x male reader where reader lost smth and runs into ranpo whos kinda crushing on reader and helps them find That Thing & it turns into a date ? this is. incredibly specific my apologies

“Lost Something?”

——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆ I’m so sorry that it took me so long! I’ve been on vacation! Thank you so much for your patience! I thought this was an interesting request! It took me a while to figure out how to write this out, but I finally wrote it out! It took me many drafts, but I’m happy with the final product! Hope you enjoy!

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Ranpo

Summary: You lost an important item so you asked the best detective in the world to find it for you.

——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Headcannons:

Bro would predict that you would ask him for this kind of trouble, so he literally hid himself from you. You searched for him for hours until you finally found him in his locker…under a pile of candy. (Bsd Wan! reference)

He complains when you ask him to find it for you, even though he already knows where it is.

Ranpo doesn't say anything until you said you'd take him to a candy shop after. Bro's emerald eyes widened lol. Like, ooo. I see you've made a valid negotiation. 🙂

Proceeds to put on glasses 🤓

He tells (*ahem* orders) you too follow him.

He's no good at navigation, thus having you two go to the weirdest places.

"Uh… Ranpo, are we-"

"Nope! I know where I'm going!"

Shhhh! Trust the process darling.

He finally takes you to a candy shop, and that thing you're looking for was in the candy shop! You didn't go in there earlier…did you.

Wait

This man hid it from you!!!!!!!

"It was a date! So, are you gonna pay or not?" 🤗

Happy ending??? 🤔

Scenario:

It was another regular day at the Armed Detective Agency. The sun’s rays shone through the glass windows, illuminating the office. The rapid taps of computer keyboards engulfed the room, bringing a sort of relaxing ambience to the office. Or, it would be relaxing if Ranpo wasn’t snacking so loudly.

You sat in your seat, looking quite focused on the pile of pap

There was a constant tapping as your finger hit your desk rapidly. Your forehead was crested, trying to relocate your steps. You were trying to find a very important item, however no matter where you looked, you couldn't find it. You started to grow more and more worried.

"Y/n-san, are you okay?" A timid asked besides you. You turned to face the gray-haired weretiger.

"I lost an important item, Atsushi-kun," you informed him, trying to sound calm and composed. Sighing, you placed your elbows on your desk and rested your chin on your hands, staring at the computer with a blank facial expression. Where could it be? Surely you didn't place it anywhere but your desk…

"An item…?"

"Mhm. Sadly," you sighed more. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion washed over you. "Maybe someone hid it from me. If that is it, then I'm about to pull out a Glock and present the same dream Dazai had desired."

Atsushi gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. He looked at you with shock. "You would do that."

You simply ignored him as you did up from your desk. "I'm going to look for Ranpo. Maybe he can help me."

You looked everywhere to find the best detective in the world. Yes, everywhere. You couldn't find him until an hour later in the weirdest place in the office, the locker.

The sound of crunching was audible as you stared at Ranpo's locker in dismay. What was that sound? The crunching of bones? No, Ranpo would never do that…was Yosano maybe doing something in Ranpo's locker? That wasn't it either…right? Nevertheless, you hesitantly reached out to open the locker. As you slowly opened it, you found a body buried underneath a pile of candy.

"Oh, Y/n-kun!" Ranpo's head popped out of the pile of candy, a lollipop in his mouth. "You're here!"

"R-Ranpo-san?" You gasped at the sight. Who would do such a childish- oh right, it's Ranpo. Admitly it was kind of cute. The way Ranpo just popped his head out the pile of candy, how nonchalant his voice was, his messy black hair…oh damn your fanboying.

Ranpo sat up, which was hard in the narrowness of the locker. "I suppose you found me! What, did you need something from the best detective in the whole world?"

Gosh, his voice is so… "Ah yes. I was going to ask if you can find something for me?"

Ranpo clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Haah. Such a pain." He dismissed the request with a dismissive flick of his hand.

You sighed, not wanting to give up. This was a very important item to you. "Ranpo-san, please."

"I don't need to put energy on worthless things like that." Ranpo said stubbornly, tossing the lollipop stick to the side as he opened a chocolate bar.

You bit your lip, not wanting to give up just yet. "Oi, if you find it, I'll take you to a candy store after. That's a promise."

Ranpo opened his emerald eyes. A smirk painted along his face as his eyes seemed to shine at the idea. "Oh? You make a valid negotiation." He commented, his voice smooth.

You stared at him, a small hopeful smile apparent on your lips. "Do will you?"

"You know how to bribe me, huh?" Ranpo smirked. "How dangerous~"

You blushed slightly, but you huffed and looked away. "Dangerous is how I roll. Now, are you going to figure it out or not, hm?"

Ranpo muttered something under his breath before he slowly grabbed his glasses and placed it on his eyes. He stared at you, making it feel like he was staring directly into your soul. His eyes flickered all over your body, observing the data that was given to him. It felt like he was looking at your search history for some reason.

After what felt eternity (six seconds), he finally smirked smugly and took of his glasses. "I know where your special little item is."

"Really?" You brightened a little. "Great. Where is it then?"

"I'll lead you there, Y/n-kun," Ranpo stood up and shook off any candy that stuck onto him. He stepped out of the locker and walked forward to pat your broad shoulders. He flashed you a charming smile. Damn…that snarky smile of his. "Let's go, shall we?"

"You lead us there?" You scoffed. "Hah. So all of a sudden you're good at directions."

"Oh shut your trap. I've always been good at directions! I'm the best at everything! I'm the best detective out there!" Ranpo walked both of you out of the Armed Detective Agency and into the busy streets of Yokohama.

It was a sunny weekday. Locals and tourists roamed the streets as the two detectives walked aimlessly around the city.

"Oi Ranpo-san. I thought you said you knew where we're going?" You muttered, your eyebrows furrowing.

Ranpo clicked his tongue, looking around at the street signs and buildings. "I know where we're going."

An hour went by and you could swear that you both were walking at random at this point. Ranpo led you to a library, a coffee shop, a park, even a gym, and claimed that it wasn't the place. You asked him many times what the place was called, or even the address, but he always declined your help.

"Ranpo, it's the third time we've seen that statue."

"I'm aware, you impatient man," Ranpo would mutter.

A few moments later you couldn't help but wonder if you were lost. "Uh…are we-"

"Nope. I know where we're going." Ranpo interrupted, continuing to walk forwards. Does he really know though?

Another hour goes by and you both finally stopped at a candy store. It was a red brick building that had rows and rows of candy inside.

"Ranpo…I said I'll treat you to a candy store after you find that item of mine." You stated as he dragged you into the building.

Ranpo turned to you as you both entered the candy shop. There was sour patch, chocolate, lollipops, every candy in the world was in this candy shop. He pointed at a box of candy that was near the cashier.

You walked towards the box of candy, only to find the item you were looking for. "What the- How did it end up here?!" You exclaimed, exasperated.

The detective simply shrugged. This only gave you suspicions of the man. "Ranpo, don't tell me. Did you hide this from me?"

"You have no evidence of that theory!" Ranpo snapped his fingers and stuck his tongue at you, grinning like a child. "Now, this is a date, so pay for the candy!"

He already had a pile of candy in his arms as he smiled at you expectantly.

"H-haah?" You gawked at him. A date? Was this..planned? I mean…… "Since when was this trip a date?"

"I said it was a date, so that's what it shall be. Besides, you don't mind. I should know, since I know how you feel about me~" Ranpo looked so proud of his words as he gazed at you. He smirked as he watched you blush.

"Eh- You- I- It's- Ahh. You are too smart for your own good," You huffed as you took out your wallet and paid for his candy. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you were quite happy with the outcome.

You both walked out of the candy store, the lost item safely in your hand as Ranpo snacked on his new bag of candy.

"You are such a trouble one to have," You muttered as you both walked back to the Armed Detective Agency.

Ranpo chuckled, opening his eyes to gaze at you. "I don't want any trouble, but if you were trouble, then I might want you."

——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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msbigredmachine · 7 months

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TARGETS - 31 - Naive

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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

By early morning, Roman and Jasmine were gone from the W Hotel. Jasmine confirmed to Roman that their rendezvous with representatives of F.L.O.R.A. and The Authority for negotiation talks were still on for later that day. They were going to congregate in an area full of civilians. Though they were confident their former employers wouldn't open fire in a place as public as a shopping mall, the couple refused to risk being unarmed, so they kept only a single pistol and a dagger on each of their persons.

They pulled up at the massive shopping mall outlet, the venue of the meeting place, situated on the outskirts of town. Stepping out of the car, the two trudged across the car park towards the building. Approaching the glass sliding doors leading into the mall, they stopped when they saw the sign plastered on the right side of the door.

This is to inform all our customers that Lagoon Shopping Mall has been temporarily closed for renovation. This is to provide the better service our esteemed customers deserve.

We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience.

Signed,

Management.

The sign looked fresh, not more than a couple of hours old. Roman immediately understood what was going on. "Motherfuckers...they shut the mall down themselves,” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No one will be in there. That means they'll have clear shots at us."

Jasmine shook her head, her expression grim as she adjusted her backpack over her shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We stick to the plan," she said.

“What?” Roman pursed his lips. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this. "Jasmine, are you sure about this? We can walk away right now, disappear. Go completely off the grid, just like you suggested before."

"You trust me, don't you? You trust yourself?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he replied.

Jasmine met his gaze. "Then we do this. It's our biggest chance to get out of this mess in one piece." When Roman’s doubtful countenance didn’t change, she let out a heavy sigh. “What is it, Roman?”

“Look. I know how risky this is, but it don’t mean we should make it that easy for them,” he answered.

She let his words digest, and then, looked away for a moment, her beautiful face hard, focused. "Okay. To ease your mind, I'll take the back door of the mall, check out the perimeter before we go in. Make sure there are no surprises. You take the front, and then we meet in the middle. I believe that’s the food court. You got your gun?"

"Jacket pocket," Roman answered, "You?"

"Same." Jasmine tapped the side of her coat where her Glock was situated. For a long time, they looked at each other, communicating without saying a word. "We got this," she said.

"We got this," the Samoan echoed. “Be careful in there.”

"I will. I'll see you soon."

Roman watched her leave, making sure she disappeared safely round the back before turning back to the door. At least, he supposed, on the bright side, when it all went down...no civilians would be caught in the crossfire. And he would be naive to think there wasn't going to be crossfire.

The fire exit next to the sliding doors was open, unchained. A building of this size 'undergoing renovation' had no business leaving the doors open like this. He knew it was deliberate. They were being waited on. For a brief moment, Roman considered changing his mind again, grabbing Jasmine and disappearing off the face of the earth, somewhere much more obscure than Jamaica. But they were here now. There was no turning back.

The former Authority operative walked inside and patrolled his designated area for several minutes, eyes and ears open and alert like a bat at midnight. That such a large place like this was empty and silent was eerie to him. He wondered how Jasmine was doing. He eventually arrived at the vast food court, in the middle of the mall, where she had said they would meet. She wasn't here yet. She was supposed to be here by now. Roman's eyes kept moving, looking for anything suspicious. There was a lot, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The place was quiet. Too quiet. It didn't feel right.

"Mr. Reigns."

Roman turned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Expensive high heels clicked, growing louder as they approached him. A beautiful woman emerged. Hauntingly exotic features. Her smile was broad, terrifyingly artificial. Her movements were calm but deliberate, as though she never let a move go to waste. Thanks to Jasmine, he instantly knew who she was.

"Lily." He kept his tone curt, business-like, keeping his hands in his black jacket pockets. His fingers were already itching. His brown eyes continued to shift, subtly darting left and right.

Lily's smile tightened on realizing that Roman knew her name.

There was no one else in sight, but a new smell suddenly permeated through the air, a smell he knew all too well…the lead of not one, not two, but a multitude of bullets awaiting him. His eyes continued to scan the surroundings, and they widened slightly as he looked closely now. The weapons were in clear sight now; the sniper rifles, the Remingtons, laser lights – dozens of them, pointing at him from all corners of the mall. He could see the faces now, most of which he recognized. Authority agents, former colleagues. He could see Owens and Bianca. Others were ladies, just as beautiful as Jasmine and Lily were. F.L.O.R.A. agents. Clearly most of them had survived the explosion of their HQ from months ago and wanted revenge, he jokingly assumed, despite the fact that this was no time for jokes. He could almost hear them talking into their hands-frees, status-checking, reminding the other to stay in position. Seth and Dean were nowhere to be found. Hopefully they were already in Jamaica by now.

"Looks like everyone's all here," Roman commented, raising an eyebrow. "To take out just two people? Isn't that a bit extreme, Lily?"

"One can never be too thorough," Lily nodded good-naturedly. "And speaking of…you're probably wondering where Jasmine is right now," she said, peering at him. "Am I right?"

At the mention of his girlfriend's name, Roman's gaze immediately snapped back to the older woman, his shoulders squaring, his eyes hard, cold and dangerous. "Where is she?" he growled.

"Oh, calm down you big brute," Lily waved him away with a flippant smile. "She's perfectly fine. Although...I don't think she'll be joining us just yet. But she'll be here to pick up her payment soon."

"Payment? What are you talking about?" Roman demanded quietly.

"Did she tell you she'd take the back route? Meet you in the middle?" Lily asked with a smile that shouldn't have looked so ugly on such a beautiful woman. "Did she tell you you're here to negotiate your freedom?"

The dark-haired man went quiet, his hard dark gaze still on the F.L.O.R.A. boss. Tense silence fell between them. Lily continued to smile at him, but the expression was different now, as though there was something she knew that he didn't.

"Honestly...between Hunter and I, we've always known she was the better agent," she went on. "Of course, it took her a little longer than usual to deliver the goods this time. But at least she got it done. She always does, because she's the best. Better than you even, which says a lot." Her smile widened at the gut-punched expression on the former Authority agent's face.

"You think she doesn't know you'll kill her the first chance you get?" Roman challenged.

Lily stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "We considered it," she conceded, "but let's just say she gave us an offer we couldn't refuse. We may not be able to kill two birds with one stone, but it's better than nothing, right?" she said, clearly reveling in Roman's defeated demeanor. It seemed to have sunk in now, he seemed to realize the seriousness of the predicament he'd suddenly found himself in. Lily tilted her head to the side, looking at him with what resembled pity. "Come on now, Mr. Reigns. You didn't really think this would have a happy ending, did you? You take down F.L.O.R.A. and The Authority all by your lonesome and run off into the sunset with the girl of your dreams? For a man as revered as you are, I never thought you would be that naive."

Lily moved, walking slowly to the side, hands still tucked in her pockets. Roman never took his eyes off her. “We have one thing in common, Roman. We are master assassins. You know damn well that our kind can never be trusted. I'm slightly disappointed that you did, so soon too. I mean, how long have you known Jasmine for? Seven, eight months? And she isn't just any assassin. She's F.L.O.R.A. through and through. It's nothing personal, Reigns. I'm sure you understand that. I think it's admirable that you thought you could be the knight in shining armor today and try to save Jasmine. But all this time, you should have been trying to save yourself. F.L.O.R.A are strong women, smart, resourceful. And we don't care who we use to try to preserve ourselves. Because all we should be concentrating on is trying to survive and thrive. And that's exactly what Jasmine has done. She takes her job very, very seriously and we pay her handsomely for it." As she spoke, she turned her head to the side. "Isn't that right, Jasmine?" she called into the air.

Roman watched with darkened eyes as his girlfriend slowly stepped out from behind her boss, her arms crossed, the triumphant smirk lighting up her beautiful face as she glared arrogantly at Roman.

"Absolutely right, Lily."

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

Eeeek!

Credit to the owners of the gifs.

#roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #targets #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc

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all54321 · 1 year

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A “Delivery” (Part 2)

Part 1, Part 3

I decided to make these guys unhinged, because that’s fun. Also there’s extreme pining this time.

I’ve also decided to add a Part 3, because I’m having ideas. Probably also featuring more pining.

—————

The Bad Boys arrive at their place at midnight, earlier than Scar expected. They’re clad in their leather jackets and sunglasses, with only Jimmy wearing his properly.

Cleo nods in approval, “you’re early.”

“Of course,” Grian replies, voice clear of the humor in it when he was chatting to Scar earlier. “These things go easier when you’re prepared.”

She grins, “it is.”

Scar zones out of the conversation as he stares at Grian. He always looks good in leather, incredibly good. How could Scar not fall for him looking like that. Scar doesn’t really care that he’s losing focus to stare at Grian, Cleo’s briefed him on the plan already and no one else is here, so Scar will gladly take the chance to stare when there’s no repercussions.

He startles out of his staring by an elbow to his side, he quickly looks over. Bdubs is staring at him seeming unimpressed while Cleo looks at him expectantly.

“Uh… y-yes?” Scar mumbles, uncertain. He casts a glance at the Bad Boys, relieved to see them talking together, unaware of Scar’s earlier staring.

Bdubs shakes his head, exasperated. Cleo seems to share the sentiment, but takes mercy on him, “I was asking if you had everything prepared.”

“Right, yes, I do,” he replies, still caught off guard a little.

“Good, we can’t trust them to play fair.”

“You have got to say something,” Bdubs says, nodding his head towards the Bad Boys.

“Quiet,” Scar hisses, casting another glance at them. Thankfully none of them seem to have heard.

His brother just rolls his eyes, “this is just getting painful.”

He’s saved from responding by the Bad Boys rejoining them, they stand in a line but Joel takes the lead, “we’re all set.”

“Are you prepared for the worst?”

Immediately after Cleo finishes speaking, Grian pulls out a Glock from where it’s hidden under his jacket. Scar wouldn’t say he’s swooning over Grian with a gun, but damn does he look hotter holding one. He doesn’t hope this goes bad, but Scar would love to see Grian in action with that gun. He knows the Bad Boys’ reputations, but he hasn’t seen what earned them it though. He would love to see it, especially Grian. Scar would love to see how much of a badass Grian can be.

Cleo nods, “so you’re all ready to go?”

“I have one question first,” Grian says, putting this gun back.

Cleo raises an eyebrow, “go ahead.”

A grin spreads across his face, “will we need explosives?”

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“I have plenty of kinds, short fuse, long fuse, destructive, not destructive, and some other fun ones.”

“What do you plan to do with them?” Bdubs asks quizzically.

“Anything you want,” he replies easily, though the maniac grin remains on his face.

“Preferably non destructive,” Cleo replies, “we don’t need to cause structural damage. And only use them if you have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Do you have any here?” Scar asks, curious.

Grian casts an evaluating glance over the three of them, “I can get some easily enough.” His tone is guarded, wary.

As eager as Scar was for their deal, he forgot one crucial thing, they all play dirty here. They will always keep their cards close and only reveal what’s needed. Scar would never betray Grian, no matter what, but he can’t say the same for any of the others on either side.

Scar lets out a breath, if this meeting goes well, hopefully it can lead to a more steady alliance with the Bad Boys. Maybe one that’s built on more then just business.

“Right, we’ll meet you there,” Cleo says, voice holding no argument as she holds out a slip of paper.

Joel snatches it and reads it over, nodding as he shoves it into his pocket. “Come on, Bad Boys.” They give one final parting nod before heading out to their truck. Grian’s eyes linger briefly at Scar, before he turns around to leave.

“Scar,” Bdubs says, tone chiding.

“I’m focused,” Scar counters, turning to face his family again.

“You better be,” Cleo says, a warmth back in their tone that’s only present when they’re talking to their sons, “we all need to be prepared for things going wrong.”

#my writing #limited life mafia au #Scarian #hermitshipping #the clockers #the bad boys #grian #smallishbeans #solidaritygaming #zombiecleo #bdouble0 #goodtimeswithscar #limited life smp

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kemetic-dreams · 1 year

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Inside The Story Of Tupac’s 1993 Shootout With Off-Duty Police Officers — And How He Got Away With It

On Halloween 1993, Tupac Shakur tried to stop two white off-duty cops from harassing a African driver in Atlanta. But when one of them pulled his gun, Tupac shot first in self defense.

The son of a Black Panther, Tupac Shakur promoted self-defense in the face of societal racism, particularly against police brutality. And in the early 1990s, he was a common sight at the Compton Gun Range, where he and friends would pass the time and target practice.

Then, early in the morning of Oct. 31, 1993, he shot three times at two white men who pulled a gun on him outside his hotel in Atlanta, Georgia — not knowing they were off-duty cops. Police arrested him the next morning and charged him with two counts of aggravated assault.

While two versions of the story persist, investigators found Shakur’s most credible. The 22-year-old had just performed at Clark Atlanta University when a street altercation turned violent. Spotting two drunk men harass a Black motorist, Shakur intervened to help — and shot in self-defense when one of the off-duty officers brandished his gun.

The incident came a mere month before Shakur was ambushed and shot five times at Quad Studios in New York. From then on, he would switch permanently into the “Thug Life” rebel who trusted no one and lived a life of paranoia. Tragically, his morbid fears were proven right when he was mysteriously murdered in Las Vegas in 1996.

How Tupac Wound Up In A Shootout With Off-Duty Police Officers

Born Lesane Parish Crooks on June 16, 1971, in New York City, he was renamed Tupac Amaru Shakur after an Incan revolutionary killed by Conquistadors and “Shakur” after his stepfather. His mother, Afeni Shakur, was a Black Panther and raised him in the party’s revolutionary spirit. But he also attended art school, where he studied poetry and ballet.

And while his mother had been a forceful activist who stood trial against bombing charges, Shakur used music as his call to action. By the time of Shakur’s violent police confrontation in 1993, he had already found rap success with his 1991 debut album 2Pacalypse Now and 1993 follow-up, Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z….

On Oct. 30, 1993, Tupac performed at Clark Atlanta University. And in the early hours of Halloween, he and his caravan of cars were heading back to the Sheridan Hotel to celebrate the show, with Tupac in the front car. But when they arrived, they saw two white men beating a African driver in the middle of the road, blocking the hotel entrance.

Meanwhile, Clayton County officer Mark Whitwell, 33, and his brother, Henry County officer Scott Whitwell, 32, and their two wives had just finished celebrating Scott’s wife passing the bar exam at the hotel. When they left and began to cross the street, they said they were nearly struck by an unrelated driver when an argument began.

This altercation is what Tupac and his crew drove into.

“It looked like a fight. And as we got closer we seen it was two white guys jumping a Black dude,” said rapper E.D.I. Mean, who was in one of the rear cars. “And immediately Pac just jumped out of the car.”

When Tupac jumped out, everyone in the caravan followed. And then, according to Atlanta Police Department Captain Herb Carson, “One of the officers pointed a gun toward the group.” Later, during the hearing, Mark admitted that it was him.

Dressed in plain clothes, the Whitwell brothers were not immediately recognizable as police officers. Whether they identified themselves as such before brandishing a firearm has remained unclear. But what happened next isn’t.

The Whitwells were visibly intoxicated, and Shakur responded to the drawn gun by pulling out his own. Then, Mark Whitwell smashed Tupac’s car window with the butt of his pistol and Tupac fired three shots from his 9mm Glock. Two of the bullets hit the Whitwells — Mark was shot in the abdomen and his brother in the buttocks.

Why The Charges Against Tupac Were Dropped

Police arrested Tupac a few hours later at his hotel and charged him with two counts of aggravated assault. Treated for their wounds, the Whitwells were released from Grady Hospital the following morning when Shakur pleaded not guilty and was released on a $55,059 bond.

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andr0medafallen · 1 year

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Cold, Dead Heart

A/N: Another repost! I was like super depressed and busy for a while, but I will be working on continuing to publish all of my old fics that I intend to publish now, before writing more. I plan on being more active in my writing in the spring when I will be taking less credits. xoxo

Pairing: Adrian Chase x Reader

Warnings: some angst, sexual harassment (someone unconsensually grabs readers ass), canon-typical violence (reader breaks said man's fingers), some hurt/comfort, girlboss reader lmao

Description: Adrian Chase convinces you to go to his high school reunion. You end up not regretting it, although you've got plenty of reasons to.

Word Count: 4.3k

“Adrian, no,” you rejected, mind reeling at the fact that Adrian Chase had thought you would be an acceptable date anywhere, let alone at his High School reunion, despite you having gone to high school thousands of miles away from this hick town. And despite what everyone on the team thought about you being a cold-hearted bitch who hated everything resembling laughter and fun, you did consider Adrian a friend, which is why you intended to spare him of embarrassing himself in front of all of the ex-jocks and backstabbing cheerleaders who he stupidly looked up to. Even if you wanted to be eye candy, which you didn’t, that definitely wasn’t something that you had been trained for in the field, and no amount of looks could make up for your apparent lack of skill and effort in the field of flattery. You’re an FBI agent, not Miss America.

“Whaaaat?” Adrian complained, as though he thought he might be able to change your mind by annoying you enough. “Come on, you only have to be there for like, an hour. Just long enough for people to think I’m cool and that you want to be there. And then I’ll buy you ice cream or clean your guns for a year or–”

“Beyond the fact that it would be severely unprofessional—” You started, before being cut off by his over-eager mouth.

“It wouldn’t be unprofessional! How would it be unprofessional?”

“We work together, Adrian. I outrank you.” You sat on your desk, cleaning your glock with a grey rag turned black by grime and oil. Your current state should have only proved your point further. Not even in the running for Miss Congeniality.

“Uh, no, you don’t, cause I don’t even technically work for the government.”

You scoffed. “Well, you sure work with the government a lot for someone who doesn’t work for the government.”

“I don’t think that you are legally allowed to use the unprofessional excuse unless I actually worked with you though, which I don’t.”

“Oh, I broke the law?” You chuckled. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” A part of you knew that Adrian might not understand that you were joking. But the cold-hearted bitch part figured that making him think that you assumed he would want to murder you for not going to his high school reunion made up for the fact that he was making you sit through this conversation. Maybe it would even get him to leave, although you doubted you had that much luck.

“What? No, I would never kill you. I mean, if you broke a really bad law, like loitering, then maybe. But I don’t think that not using unprofessionalism as an excuse when people don’t work together is actually a law, but maybe it should be.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Right. Well, let me know when they do make it a law. Until then, I will be here. Happily doing things that do not take place in a high school.”

“Come on, pleeeeaaaase,” He begged. “I’ll do anything.”

God. What a stupid, stupid boy. The amount of trust he had in you was anything but inspiring. It was misplaced and idiotic, and he definitely shouldn’t be offering you ‘anything’. Still, his desperation, while misplaced, made butterflies spark up in your gut. “Anything?” You asked, arching a brow.

Adrian’s expression turned, eyes narrowing as he noted your mischievous tone. It was calculated, your manner of speaking, meant to prevent those butterflies from revealing anything, but he didn't know that. “You’re not gonna make me do anything illegal, are you? Cause last time I–”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Adrian. You aren’t fun enough to do anything illegal with.” You lowered your feet off of your shitty metal desk chair, where you’d propped them up while talking to Adrian, and loudly planting them on the floor as you stood up from your seat on your desk, leaning towards Adrian. “Since you are clearly desperate here, I’ll go. Just buy my coffee or something for the next month, I don’t fucking care.”

“Fuck yeah! Wait, is there a catch? Cause sometimes people ask me to things and then they’re like ‘well, actually’--”

“The catch is that you get out of my fucking office and let me finish this mission report.” You grabbed your stapler and threw it at him. Adrian caught it with a giddy smile and skipped out of the room. You hoped he would actually return that stapler at some point, since you had a few stacks of loose paperwork waiting on your desk and no replacement, but you suspected you’d never see it again.

With a sigh, you returned to your gun, working in the oil so ferociously that your hands started to ache. Fuck, you shouldn’t have said yes. A list of possibilities for what could happen on your–would it be considered a date?–were rattling through your mind like an old busted up film reel, and all you could do was hope that you wouldn’t fuck anything up.

~~~

You hadn’t talked to Adrian since you’d agreed to go with him. He’d texted you the details for your arrangement, but other than that, radio silence. On your end, at least. Adrian might not have been chattering your ear off as much as usual, but it was you who conveniently wrapped yourself in paperwork every time he entered your line of sight. A week of not talking, hardly communicating, and now… A night of hopefully not telling any secrets. A night where Adrian Chase will not learn how badly you don’t want to go on this date with him only because you had hoped that your first date with Adrian Chase, the known maniac who you had the biggest, stupidest crush on, would be because he actually liked you and not because he wanted to impress a handful of idiots with something that wasn’t real.

Still, that didn’t stop you from pestering your friend to borrow the perfect outfit because nothing in your closet was quite right, spending an additional hour to get ready after your outfit was chosen, and tolerating the most uncomfortable pair of shoes in your closet because maybe Adrian wanted to impress his all of his ex locker room neighbors and high school buddies, but you sort of wanted to impress Adrian; Even if a part of you was convinced that you were fighting an uphill battle.

Even with all the time you had spent on your appearance, you were ready with time to spare. All there was left to do was sit on the thrift store couch in your living room, trying to distract yourself with the books that were usually scattered on your coffee table; an eclectic arrangement of FBI protocol manuals and the various genres of fiction which you read for pleasure. You were about to give up on trying to make your mind process the information from a heavy sci-fi book that Economos had given you when a much-anticipated knock sounded at the door.

A mixture of relief and anxiety flooded through you as you set the book down (a resonant Whack! sounding from the sheer heft of it) and rushed to open your front door.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other. Adrian’s cheeks were rosy and he seemed out of breath, which was a bit non-intuitive, given that you could see his Sebring parked in the lot just a floor below your balcony entrance. Ignoring that though, you had to admit that he looked good. Well, you always thought he looked good, but he looked really, really good tonight. He was dressed to the semi-casual dress code in a black cable turtle-neck which he’d partially tucked into his brown corduroys. Even though it wasn’t very far off from what you’d seen of him in civilian clothes, a part of it surprised you. You’d never actually seen him in anything other than his Vigilante gear and the nerdy shit he wears on CVS runs.

After what felt like eons of simply looking at each other, it was you who broke the silence with a quiet, “Hey.”

It seemed to sufficiently snap him out of his thoughts. “Hi! Hey. You look really good. Like stupid fucking good.”

“Oh. Thanks. Gotta impress your buddies, right?” You chuckled nervously. Were you imagining the way Adrian’s face fell when you said that? Probably just projecting, right? “You look really good too. I’ve never seen you…”

“Oh, yeah. I figured I couldn’t wear the Vigilante uniform, so.” You giggled at this, and his smile did a much better job at lighting the entryway to your apartment than your porch light ever had.

“I like your Vigilante costume,” you chided, exiting your doorway and locking your door behind the two of you before hesitantly tucking your arm around Adrian’s.

When you approached his car, Adrian opened the passenger door for you before hurrying around the front of the car to sit behind the wheel on the driver's side. You were grateful when he started the car and the heater rumbled on, warm air blasting towards you; It was a cool autumn night and the dress which you had chosen for yourself wasn’t doing a lot as far as warmth was concerned.

The ride to the high school of Adrian’s teenage years was short, and filled with the heavy base of the 11th Street Kids, volume all the way up. As nervous as you were for the coming event, it didn’t take much for Adrian to get you laughing and singing along.

“There’s no wrong time to rock, baby!” Adrian yelled over the tinny speakers of the sebring, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his hand along with the beat. You burst out into laughter, trying to ignore the way your stomach fluttered with butterflies at being called ‘baby’.

Either way, you still made him turn it down when you approached the school. It hardly seemed like a fancy reunion, terribly appropriate for a town like Evergreen, but if Adrian was intent on impressing people, you figured he might as well not ruin it before it began by blasting music at levels that would give premature hearing problems even to the people outside of the car.

Once he had parked, he jogged around the car to open your door for you, speed likely prompted by his suspicion that you wouldn't let him. It was something that Chris always used to try during stakeouts. He happened to stop that a while ago, definitely not because you would always wait until his hand reached the handle to pop it open and slam it into his gut. The memory (or lack thereof, because it is definitely something you had never done) still made you smile. But you weren’t planning on doing that to Adrian. Not when you were on a date and –you had a massive crush on him– he promised to pay you in full with beautifully overpriced oat milk lattes.

So yes, you let him open your door, and take your hand, and do all of the things that you never let anyone else do. You were conscious of your reputation—you couldn’t help it, not with the type of people you worked with—but right now… Tonight, you know that everything is fake. Artificially constructed to present a picture that isn’t there, that isn’t true. But tonight, you are going to pretend that it is true, because you can, and because after everything that you’ve been through with Adrian–with the butterflies (the literal ones, not the metaphorical ones), the bullet wounds, waking up everyday afraid because you’re constantly putting your life on the line—you felt that you deserved this. Or at least, you deserved to be able to pretend.

The two of you were hand in hand entering the gymnasium. Palms connected, your free hand cradling his arm. The lights are dim, a cliche high school disco ball hanging in the middle of the room. It smelled the way every school gymnasium smells; That sort of waxy, wrestler sweat smell that can never be explained too well, but always seems to permeate the area.

The woman at the booth checked you in, placing a stamp on the back of both of your hands. She gave you a toothy grin, full of kindness as she asked, “Different graduating year?”

You chuckled, returning her warmth. “Not a local.” You’re certain that she’ll be spreading that bit of small town gossip around, but you can’t seem to manage any hard feelings.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. The lights weren’t too bright, the music not too loud, and you’re holding Adrian Chase’s hand.

Adrian led you to what seemed like his group of high school friends. The sort of D&D type that you’d have expected him to hang out with. Maybe a little awkward, but not trying nearly as hard as the ‘popular kids’; a trait you can appreciate. God, are you reinforcing high school stereotypes in a building full of adults? Yet another reason that you didn’t go to your own high school reunion.

Adrian started to make his introductions, naming everyone one by one, because of course that is something he would remember. Adrian knew your middle name before you’d even been formally introduced.

“Sonia, Oliver, Jack, Gini, this is…”

Before anyone else could notice Adrian’s hesitation, you jumped in with a smile, “I’m Adrian’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet you all.” Maybe you weren’t Miss Congeniality, but you were professionally trained in lying.

That elicited quite the reaction from the group. The excited giggles and ecstatic welcomes make you think this might not have been an awful idea after all. You don’t even really mind the whistles or congratulations toward a blushing Adrian. The group trailed back into their previous conversation after a bit, and you nudged Adrian with your elbow..

“I’m gonna go grab some punch, want some?” You whispered when he looked over at you with his smiling eyes.

His brows furrowed. “Are you sure? I can go with you—”

“I’ll be fine, Adrian,” you insisted. You needed a bit of a break from people, and fetching spiked punch seemed to be the popular way to do that in all the movies, but you really did want Adrian to be able to catch up with his friends. They seemed kind, and genuine. “Have fun. I’ll be back in a minute, pinky promise.”

You reached your pinky out towards him and he wrapped his own around yours. Before he got the chance to separate, you pressed your thumb against his, making a little goofy kiss sound. Before you could see his responding blush, you turned away toward the punch table, making your exit.

When you arrived at the infamous high school punch bowl, you didn’t even have time to grab cups before you felt a hand touch your shoulder. Your heart rate sped up and you spun, slugging the perpetrator in the arm when you realized it was just Chris.

“Jesus, fucking sneaky, asshole, what are you doing here?” You asked, covering your momentary panic with irritation.

“You’re the one who went to High School in Gotham, what’re you doing here?” Chris responded, a juvenile mimic of your own question.

“If I wanted you to badger my own shit back at me I’d play uno.”

Chris split into a grin; a shit-eating, ear to ear grin. “You’re on a date!”

“Who cares? And why the hell do you find that so hard to believe?” You asked defensively

Chris snorted. “It’s not. Just funny that you ditched your date to hang out at the punch table.”

You scowled. “I didn’t ditch my date, I’m just getting punch. For me and my date. And I swear to God, Smith, if you spiked it, I will put that on your permanent record,” you warned, grabbing one of the plastic cups sitting at the table. The threat was an empty one. Honestly you kind of hoped he had spiked it.

“I didn’t spike it!” you still look thoroughly unamused in front of him, arms crossed. “Jesus, no room in your cold dead heart to believe me?” Chris kissed three fingers on his right hand and raised them up in front of himself. “Scouts honor.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the fucking Hunger Games thing, Chris.” You ladled some of the red liquid into your cup and took a sip, disappointedly disappointed when you didn’t taste the warmth of alcohol. Just your average watered down punch.

You were about to say something more, about how you wouldn’t be surprised if Chris really was in boy scouts and never learned that, or some dry humor about how you liked to think that Chris was intentionally obtuse but was more likely just stupid, when you felt a stranger's hand grabbing your ass, followed by a loud, obnoxious voice shouting “EY YO, NICE MEAT CHRIS!!!!”

To his credit, Chris squared up, ready to have your back against this asshole. You were quicker to the punch, though, grabbing the hand of your perpetrator and twisting so hard that he was nearly toppled by his own weight. You zeroed in on him. Tall, bulky, wearing a letterman's jacket. Some high school has-been who thought that the tacky Las Vegas flask he brought made him cool. Apparently he felt the same way about harassing women, like it was some way to level him up from basic boring misogynist to super misogynist.

“Wow, that was really funny, wasn’t it?” You ask him, saccharinely sarcastic while twisting his arm harder.

“No!” He yelped, trying to alleviate your grip on him. “No, it wasn’t,” You wished you had it in you to feel sorry for what a fucked up loser this guy was, but you didn’t. Anyways, an apology given out of fear doesn’t mean anything, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to fuck him up a little just to see how he felt about it.

“Oh…You’re probably right. It was in bad taste, wasn’t it?” You asked sweetly. “It would probably be best to leave after doing something like that, huh? After all, we wouldn’t want anyone prosecuted on the count of sexually assaulting a Federal Agent, that would be way too crazy for a town like Greendale!”

You dropped the sweet facade, whispering in his ear, “If you think about trying that shit with anyone ever again, please remember that I have a gun and access to most government databases,” before dropping him to the floor.

It was then that the panic flooded through you. Everything you had just done had been done in reaction to what was happening, but you could see past the adrenaline now and all you could think about was the consequences, which you really didn’t want to face. You didn’t want to see Adrian’s expression as he realized that you’d done the exact opposite of what he wanted, and you didn’t want all of the missed opportunities to make Adrian get coffee with you. And you also didn’t want to always be the outsider, but you seemed to be consistently bad at fulfilling that goal. It was so stupid, but after spending most of your life constantly moving around due to reassignment after reassignment, you had hoped that you could find a home here. Instead you’d just made yourself the town gossip. You’d probably wind up in the morning paper tomorrow. “Crazy Jackass Assaults Local.”

You don’t know how long you stood there, glaring at the man you’d injured and forced to the floor, before you felt a hand on your elbow. Your head jerked towards it to find Adrian. He was absolutely fuming. He had this look in his eyes that always assured you he was about to do something stupid—what, you weren’t yet sure yet, but you didn’t particularly want to find out, so you grabbed him by the arm and hauled ass out of the gym. There was a crowd of concerned model citizens surrounding Mr. Hasbeen, but as you walked out the front doors, you noticed the check in lady give you a discreet thumbs up. You felt a sort of relief, knowing that at least somebody vindicated you.

You didn’t stop walking until you reached the school gardens—a sort of compilation of shrubbery with a creepy statue of some sort of town leader pushing it over the border of boring into just damn strange.

When you stopped, Adrian finally opened his mouth, starting with, “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” sliding right off the tip of his tongue as if he’d been waiting to say it.

You stepped in front of him, blocking the very real possibility of him ditching you to follow through with that claim. “No, you’re not. I–”

“He fucking–” He swallowed, like thinking of made him want to puke or punch something. Like it hurts him as much as it hurts you. “You said it yourself! He broke the law. No amount of–”

“Adrian, I dealt with it, just drop it!” You yelled. This did silence him, his face twisting into the hurt expression you sometimes see when he’s arguing with Chris. When he starts pretending that he doesn’t have any feelings, even though they are written all over his face. You sighed and sat on a faded wooden bench that was placed right in front of the statue, black heels skimming the ground. “I’m sorry. I know you were trying to impress your peers or whatever, and I ruined that.”

Adrian stopped in his tracks from where he was pacing a few yards in front of you. His hands were clenched into fists as his head snapped towards you. “You think I care about that?” His voice was just a little higher than normal, eyebrows a little too drawn.

“I…yes? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?. That's why you asked me to come, to impress all of your–”

“That’s not why you’re here.” It was quiet. A loaded statement that you didn’t know how to respond to, and didn’t have the time or understanding to unpack. It was spoken so quietly that anyone else might have missed it, but not you.

Your eyes and nose stung, like you were about to get a bloody nose. Or, a drastically worse possibility, about to cry. “I don’t understand.”

“I—” Adrian resumed his pacing. “I just said that! Y’know, when you just say something cause it’s convenient, even if it isn’t really true? But that's–I wanted you to come cause I like you. A lot. Which—I’m sorry, because I know that you don’t really like it when people like you, but I do. And believe me, if I knew that Ricky Feld was gonna do that then I never would’ve–” He stopped in front of you, kneeling, with his gaze looking up and centered on your face. His eyes were so earnest, like they carried an ocean of pain—of anger—which understood your own. “I am never going to let anyone touch you like that ever again. Never.”

The two of you just stared at each other. You didn’t know if it was for moments or for a millennia, and the foggy night sky above you betrayed nothing.

When Adrian finally opened his mouth to speak, to take everything back, you whispered, “You like me?”

Adrian gulped. “I…yeah. I know it’s unprofessional or whatever cause we kind of work together and I know that you don’t want that, but I can’t help it, and I really didn’t want to go to this thing alone so I convinced you to go with me, and you look so pretty, by the way. Did I mention you look pretty? You do. And I don’t fucking care that you twisted that guys arm off while everyone was watching. I mean it was kind of hot, but you don’t have to apologize. You didn’t ruin anything. I mean, I wish you would let me kill him, but… Yeah, I like you. So, I guess I should be the one who’s sorry cause–”

You cut him off, your lips attaching to his, your hands grabbing his face and pulling him close to you. your bodies were so fully entangled in that high school garden, your legs wrapped around his waist as he remained kneeling before you, on the bench in front of him. It was Adrian who finally pulled away, wiping your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re crying,” he told you, nervousness etched on his face.

You wiped at them with your sleeve, a technique you picked up at a young age to disguise tears from classmates. Didn’t seem to ever work that well, though. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. Well, it is you, kind of. It’s been…a lot, today. But I like you too, Adrian. A lot. And I’m willing to split the coffee bill two ways if you’ll still agree to go to that coffee place on Main with me.” You say it like it’s a joke, but you’re hardly joking. It’s all you could possibly want for him to say yes.

Adrian leaned in towards you. He smelled like almond and saffron, a departure from the usual sweat and gunsmoke smell that he had as Vigilante. He pulled you towards him by the waist, your breath mingling with his at the empty space between your lips.

“8 am, Monday, Edge Coffee. If you’re not there then I’ll show Adebayo the picture of you playing with her dog that you told me not to show anyone. And we’re not splitting the bill.” You could feel the heat from Adrian’s breath spread across your face as he said this, every part of you (cold dead heart included), warmed by his body, words, and actions. You closed what distance was left between the two of you (which wasn’t very much distance at all), lips pressing against his in what you hoped was reassurance, expressing the love you had for him that you couldn’t possibly begin to tell him about.

“I’ll be there.”

#Adrian Chase x reader #Peacemaker fanfic #reader insert #Adrian Chase fluff #Adrian Chase angst #my writing

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