The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

The Deal

Based on the hollow sound of your spray can, you shook it and then discarded it on the ground. Pulling out another can from your backpack, you only needed to add another thin layer, and then your artwork would be complete. People would then know that the Falcon had been here. You had this continual obsession with tagging buildings since you were a teen. Somehow, after all these years, you had evaded the police and anyone who tried to catch you. You were simply too quick for them.

Tonight was no exception. The Dimitrescu Corporation was only one of many buildings you had already marked. There was nothing special about it. It wasn't even the tallest building in the city. Once you were through, you stepped back to admire your work. Your masterpiece. Streaks of blue and yellow merged perfectly. You couldn't stay here for long, for there was a patrol heading your way.

Luckily for you, you weren't that high up. You only needed to descend a few, vertical metal ladders, and then you'd find your feet back on the gravel. You strapped your backup on you, making sure you left no traces behind. Pulling up your black gloves, you threw your dark hoodie over your head. In a furtive manner, you climbed down each rung, which went swimmingly, leading you to the bottom.

Looking up at where you had been, a satisfied smile broke across your face. Then you burst into a sprint to leave the backstreet before any police cars appeared. Yet at the end of the alleyway, a black Sudan screeched into view. It was so abrupt it made your heart skip a beat. Two figures got out and started running right at you. You spun around and booked it in the opposite direction, thankful you were agile.

Easily outrunning the figures in pursuit of you, you ran around the corner and crossed the street to reach the diner. In their back alley, you hid behind a garbage bin. After what seemed like forever, you left your spot and cautiously headed back out into the city. You'd be certain to avoid walking under any street lamps until you made it to your hideout, which was about a twenty-minute walk for you. It was another successful night. Thus, you believed you deserved rest and maybe even a sandwich from your favorite local deli.

You made the mistake of being overconfident. Enough so that you let your guard down. The Sudan, with their headlights turned off, slowly drove down the road and then sped up. Once it was right beside you, the same figures jumped out and grabbed you, placing a bag over your head. Blindly, you swung at them several times before a pair of large hands caught you in a chokehold. They squeezed you, forcing you to collapse. You struggled to breathe. Who were these people? What did they want with you? It didn't seem to matter because you feared you'd never live to see another day. This was worse than being picked up by the police.

Your fingers would never press down on another nozzle. Soon, everything went black. The Falcon was no more.

That was until you awakened in a brightly lit room that hurt your eyes. Your neck was sore. Your hands and feet were bound to a chair. There was no escape.

"So, you're the one the newspapers are calling, "The Falcon?"

Once your eyes adjusted to the lights, you saw a tall woman standing several feet away from you. Clad in a sharp business suit with single buttons, this dark-haired individual wearing red lipstick continued to study you.

Disgruntled from being confined, you desired nothing but your freedom. "Yeah. So? What do you want? An autograph?"

"It's not about what I want. It's about what you want from life. Is this the lifestyle you wish to lead? Ruining buildings with your graffiti and then scurrying off like a mouse to hide within your walls?"

Twisting your wrists, you knew you couldn't slip out of the ropes. Who was this fool, lecturing you about your life decisions? "What I want is to get out of this chair. Are you working with the police?"