If you're still taking prompts: Shoot + holding hands and/or hugging OR Shaw pranking Root. Thank you!
Shaw’s used to you pawing at her, or grabbing her hand, or otherwise getting too close for her taste. She’s like a kid sometimes: a fifth grader shaking off an overzealous parent, or maybe an eighth grader disavowing the girl she likes. This is kind of one of your games–well, really mostly your game–and it doesn’t bother you to be rebuffed.
Which is why it surprises you tonight, undercover on a mission, when you grab her hand and she doesn’t let go.
Her hand feels so good: warm and perfectly molded to yours. Strong and callused and, in so many ways, familiar. You’re well acquainted with how Sameen’s hands feel when they’re gripping your waist, or twisting in your hair, or digging into your hips, or inside you, when the two of you are alone. But clasped in yours in the dark nucleus of a nightclub, her hand feels new, bare, strangely intimate. You wonder whether this is what a normal girl might feel like, holding hands with someone who’s never undressed her. Like a promise of something yet to come.
“Wanna dance?” you ask, in your best sexy voice, and it surprises you a little–as it always does–when she acquiesces.
Fundamental pitch, under the drawl of forgettable music, pulses the whole room. The pulsing resets your collective heartbeat as you drag Sameen into the center of the floor, your fingers still interlaced. You throw your other arm around her and pull her closer. She’s three drinks in to your two, and her eyes are liquid black as she lets you hold her against you, a unit of movement in the irresistible collective sway of sweating bodies on the dance floor.
Dancing like this is no new trick. You’ve seduced half a dozen women like this, easily, with a few well placed compliments, an invitation, and the subsequent excuse to slide your thigh between hers. The formula is simple. As you dance, you brace the hollow of her waist and tell her how beautiful she looks tonight. Most women love being told they’re beautiful. Most women are easy to seduce.
Shaw isn’t most women. She knows she’s beautiful, and it doesn’t particularly concern her. When she wears a tight black dress and lets down her long dark hair, it’s for a purpose. Tonight, there’s someone you’re looking for–due to arrive in less than ten minutes, according to Her–and the time between is just a bit of extracurricular fun. Normally, Shaw would be all attention–but she let you buy her an extra drink earlier, and she doesn’t look as concerned with the mission as she is with your throat and the bruises she left a few days ago. She’s looking at you like she wants to eat you alive–not that you’d complain.
“What are you doing later?” she drawls into your good ear.
“You, with any luck,” you quip.
“In your dreams,” she says, but her grip on the back of your neck says something very different.
“We’ve got a job first,” you remind her.
“I didn’t forget.” She slides closer, and the fabric of her dress bunches up as she slides her knee between yours. The skin of her inner thigh sliding against yours is driving you crazy, and this had better damn well be a quick job.
The song changes, a slow fade into a nearly identical beat, and Sameen is still holding your hand, pressed against your right hip. There’s a slick of sweat between your palms that feels obscene and delicious. She looks straight into your eyes.
“Getting close?” she asks, and it takes you a second to remember she’s talking about the number.
“Close enough,” you tell her, regretting, for once, the greater purpose that brought you here. “To be continued?”
Don't they know never to mess with what belongs to a dragon. I can totally see Genji going up to them, the silhouette of a dragon behind him and murder in his eyes. Yup, those racist punks are gonna die.
17776 was good today. The eulogy was oddly touching, and the idea of waiting 10,000 years to achieve a single goal (which is to say, purpose rather than a trans-atlantic football pun) is fascinating if a little sad.
I have no idea where Bois is taking this, but it’s been a consistently fun interlude in my everyday life. Much appreciated!
Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Swearing, physical fighting
A/N: So I decided to do a part 2 (there will be 3 4 parts all up) of Dirty Laundry because of the great feedback! (I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it! I hope you guys like this one too!) (Also, this is my 200th post on this blog!)
Y/L/N: Your Last Name Y/E/C: Your Eye Colour
This part pretty much starts off where the first one left off.
“Ugh, come on Nat, answer!” you yell at your laptop screen. You usually didn’t bother your team mates while they were out on a mission, but they weren’t due to return for another week and you desperately needed advice from Natasha. You were about to give up when Skype finally connected. Nat’s face appeared on your screen, “Oh thank god! I’ve been trying you for the last 3 hours, Nat!”
“Yeah I know, Y/N, I’ve been a little busy,” only then did you notice how exhausted she looked, “we only just got back from a 22 hour stake out, what do you want?” she was becoming irritated, “I was just about to sleep an-”
“Okay, I’m sorry, but I really really need advice!” you continued before she could question you more, “Something kind of happened with Bucky, just before-”
“Oh. My. God! I knew it!” she cut you off and all irritation she had melted away as her face lit up, “remind me to get 50 bucks off Clint when I’m back,” she giggled.
“Oh, Clint and I had a bet going that Bucky would make a move,” she paused, thinking that explanation would clear up any confusion,
“What? You guys knew something would happen? I never told you I have a crush on him!” her face lit up once again and she looked delighted.
“Ha! Yes! Now Tony owes me 50 bucks. You are making me a lot of money today, Y/N,”
You shook your head, you were getting side tracked, “Okay whatever, I really need advice though!”
“Okay, tell me everything that happened, exactly how it happened,” she wiggled in her chair, getting comfortable. You launched into your story, telling her all about how he had pinned you against a wall and then stripped naked, and how you couldn’t think of what to do, so you just ran away.
“…so now I don’t know what to do! I’ve been hiding in my room ever since, but we have to train together in ten minutes! Nat, you have to help me!”