#Best Spy Earpiece

[just-aake]

Trust Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A side story/prequel to Come With Me but can be read standalone. You work with Clint to eliminate a dangerous Russian spy in Budapest.

Warnings:  fluff, violence

Words: 2851

Budapest, Past - 2003

“I got eyes on the target,” Clint’s voice comes through your earpiece as you slowly move up the staircase of the apartment building.

“Any clear shot?” you whisper back, adjusting the grip of the gun in your hand.

“Not yet.” 

“Are you even going to shoot her if you do?” you criticize him, still mad at the fact that he didn’t take the shot when he had a chance, letting your target escape and forcing you to track her down all over again. 

Clint sighs tiredly.

“I’m telling you, there’s something different about her. She has potential.”

You roll your eyes at his words. You were quickly moving up in rank at Shield, becoming one of the best trackers in the agency. The last thing you need is a failed mission to derail all of your hard work. 

You slow your steps as you near the door of the apartment room.

“Still nothing?” you ask.

“Yeah, she’s keeping to the center of the room,” he grumbles.

Checking your gun one more time, you nod in determination.

“Okay, you create a distraction and I’ll go in.”

At the sound of broken glass, you kick the door open and rush inside. You spot the target quickly enough, her red hair flipping behind her as she snaps her head toward your direction. 

You shoot at her twice, but she dodges in time for the first bullet to just graze her arm while the other one misses her completely. 

You are about to advance further into the room when a chair flies at you, causing you to duck back behind a pillar as it crashes into pieces against the wall. 

You quickly turn back into the room with your gun raised when her hand grabs your wrist and slams your arm against the pillar. The force causes your gun to fall out of your hands and onto the floor. 

With your arm still in her grip, you raise your leg to kick her, striking her stomach. 

The impact pushes her back, but she doesn’t release you. Instead, she uses the momentum to pull you forward and flip you onto the ground. 

You can only focus on the pain in your back for a second before there is a pressure against your neck. 

The target is on top of you now, pinning you down while pressing her arm hard against your neck. From this position, you can see her face more clearly. Her fierce, cold eyes focus on yours.

You can now understand what it meant when her file described her as beautiful. 

Your lack of oxygen reminds you of your current position, and you internally curse at yourself for losing focus, beginning to struggle against her hold.

She doesn’t budge, but you don’t give up. You glare determinedly at her even as it gets more and more difficult to breathe. 

Her eyes suddenly widen in realization as if snapping out of a daze, and in the next second, she releases her hold and moves off of your body. 

You take in a deep breath, coughing, before rolling shakingly to your feet, picking up your gun during the process. You point your weapon at her, your finger hovering near the trigger. 

But you hesitate when you see her. She hasn’t moved from her position on the floor, and her posture now appears heavy and tired. She has an apathetic expression as she stares at you. It’s like she’s given up completely.

You keep your gun pointed at her cautiously as you try to catch your breath.

“So you’re the Black Widow,” you manage to rasp out.

“Natasha.”

You tilt your head in question. 

Natasha nods at you.

“You were sent to kill me right? I figure if someone should know my name, it should be the one who finally gets rid of me.” 

This was supposed to be the most ruthless assassin? The thought runs through your mind as you watch her.

You lower your gun slowly at her response, raising your other hand to your earpiece to ask Clint.

You don’t notice the red dot that appears at the center of your chest.

“Clint–,” you’re interrupted as Natasha tackles you onto the sofa, and a gunshot shatters the window of the apartment hitting the area where you were standing. 

You look at the bullet mark. From the angle of the shot, if she hadn’t pushed you, you would have been fatally wounded. 

Clint’s voice comes through your earpiece. “A truck just pulled up with a lot of armed men entering the building. You need to get out now! I’ll take care of the ones on the rooftops.”

A small grunt of pain catches your attention as you look at Natasha. Her arm is bleeding from where you had shot her previously, and she had landed on the injured area when she saved you. 

You look between the exit and Natasha, shaking your head as you make an admittedly reckless decision. 

“I’m taking her with me.”

There are sounds of fighting in the background when Clint replies. “What!?” 

You ignore his exclamation, standing up.

“Just meet us back at the safe house.”

Throwing her uninjured arm around your shoulders, you pull her up and wrap your arm around her back, supporting her. You ignore the questioning look Natasha throws at you.

Honestly, you’re not sure what you are doing either. 

Rushing out the door, you stop at the sight of two armed men down the hall. They spot the two of you and raise their weapons. 

In the next second, your body is pushed behind a pillar as gunshots are fired at your position, sending pieces of wood flying. You realize Natasha is pressed close to you, shielding you with her body. 

When there is a slight pause, she pulls out her gun and shoots back at them. After they are subdued, Natasha looks back at you to check your condition, and she finds you staring at her curiously. 

You were speechless, unsure of what to say after the supposed assassin protected you for the second time. You are about to thank her when you spot another man over her shoulder, appearing from one of the other apartment doorways. 

You quickly push her behind you before firing at him, his body slumping to the ground.

Turning back to her, Natasha has an impressed expression as she looks at you. You ignore the warm feeling when you see her intense gaze, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the direction of the staircase.

You stop abruptly when you see more armed men sweeping the floor around the corner. 

Backing up quietly, Natasha pulls you into another open apartment room. 

You close the door, locking it, before pushing the dining table against the entrance. Turning back around, you find her standing on the window sill. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at her, grabbing her hand.

“I’ve got an idea. Just follow me.”

She begins to move along the edge outside of the building, but she stops when you don’t release her hand.

You look down at the long drop skeptically.

“They’re going to break in any minute now,” Natasha warns.

At the sounds of stomping and yelling in the halls, you curse as you reluctantly climb up onto the edge with her. 

The two of you move carefully around the building until she stops suddenly. You gasp in surprise when she jumps off the edge. 

Natasha lands gracefully on a balcony two floors down of the building next to yours, straightening back up. She looks up at you expectantly.

“Come on, I’ll catch you.”

You scoff in disbelief.

“Sure, I’ll just trust an assassin with my life. What could go wrong?”

You close your eyes, resting your head against the building as you prepare yourself. You don’t see the small, amused smile on Natasha’s face as she watches you.

Letting out a deep breath, you leap off the edge. Her hands wrap around you, catching you and bringing you safely to the ground.

You stumble into her as you try to stabilize yourself, your hands holding her shoulders tightly. You stay in that position, taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart.

When you finally pull away, she raises her eyebrows at you in a silent question.

Huffing, you shove past her into the building, grumbling under your breath.

“I should’ve just killed you.”

Natasha lets out a small smile at your words, looking away, before following after you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The two of you arrive at the safe house first. After checking the locks, you turn to the supposedly deadly spy. She has an impassive look on her face as she settles on one of the chairs.

You frown when you notice a dark color on the sleeve of her arm. She must still be bleeding from when you shot her. You go to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit, a clean towel, and a bowl of water.

Natasha looks at you curiously when you pull up a chair next to hers. You were laying out your supplies on the table before grabbing a pair of scissors and reaching for her arm. Her years of training cause her body to instinctively tense and move away. 

You pull your hands back at her guarded posture.

“I’m just going to cut off the sleeve to patch you up. We need to get that clean unless you want to get it infected,” you reassure her. 

You wait until her body relaxes and she moves her arm back to you before getting closer to remove the piece of clothing. 

You observe the injured area. It didn’t look too deep since the bullet only grazed her, so all you would need to do is dress the wound and bandage her up. 

You are careful not to jostle her arm too much as you begin your work. Dipping the towel in the water, you dab it gently around the edges of the wound, cleaning off the dried blood. When you finish, you grab the disinfectant spray.

You look up at her apologetically.

“Sorry, this is going to sting.” 

Natasha doesn’t respond to your words, but you see a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Sighing, you spray the disinfectant solution on the wound before covering it with a dressing. Besides a tiny sharp inhale of breath, she doesn’t even flinch at the contact. 

Fully focused, you unconsciously blew lightly on the surrounding area to provide some relief from the stinging sensation.

Your action causes Natasha to look at you in surprise. It’s been a long time since she has been cared for this gently before. 

You begin to apply the bandage. As you carefully wrap her arm, you decide to speak up.

“Thank you, by the way, for saving me back at the apartment,” you tell her sincerely.

When you look up at her, there is a pained expression on her face. You are about to ask if you had hurt her when she spoke first.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” 

Her question causes you to pause for a second. You shake your head, looking back down to continue your process of wrapping the bandage.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you respond, referring to when she let you go. 

“You know who I am. What I’ve done. I’m not a good person. As long as I’m alive, bad things will happen.”

You finish the last wrap, securing the bandage in place before looking at her. 

“From what I saw, you saved my life. Twice. I don’t believe a person who does that can’t have a little bit of goodness in them.” 

Natasha’s eyes widen in surprise.

You give her a small smile and a few gentle pats on her arm.

“All done,” you tell her. 

Standing up, you gather your supplies to return them to their places. Glancing at the corner of your eye, you see Natasha examining the newly bandaged area, gingerly touching it.

At the sound of the lock opening, you both snap to the door, cautious and alert. You relax when you see Clint stumbling in, a little frazzled but otherwise unharmed.

Clint stops at the doorway as he looks between you and Natasha. Letting out a deep exhale, he presses his hand to his head in disbelief.

“Oh wow, you actually brought her with you. This is going to be fun to explain to Fury.”

An hour later, you and Clint check in with Shield on the status of the mission.

Fury’s face is fuming by the time you both recount the events that took place earlier.

“I sent you to eliminate a very dangerous, very deadly Russian spy. Instead, you bring her back with you. What on Earth were you two thinking?”

Clint flinches away from the video call before addressing Fury.

“It’s not Y/n’s fault. I was the one who suggested not to eliminate her. I’m telling you, Fury, she could become a great asset to Shield.”

You look over at Natasha as they continue to argue. She has a cold and impassive expression on her face, seemingly already resigned to her fate. 

You decide to interrupt, “I’m also backing his recommendation for her recruitment to Shield.”

Clint turns to you in surprise at your change of opinion, but you don’t look at him. Your eyes stay focused on Natasha who's now giving you a questioning look.

You continue, “Clint’s right, Natasha has amazing skills and abilities. She’s not irredeemable.”

You look back at the screen.

“She just needs a different option, Fury. We can give that to her.”

A brief look of surprise passes on her face as she stares at you. 

You see Fury contemplate your words, his eyes looking into the distance in thought. He shakes his head in resignation. 

“Ah, what the hell, fine. One chance. Take down the Red Room, and maybe I’ll consider it. But you two are responsible for her. Everything she does, it’s all on you and your jobs. You two better hope you’re not wrong about this.”

You nod your head at him, “Don’t worry, sir.”

You lock eyes with Natasha confidently.

“I trust her.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Unknown Airspace, Present Day - 2018

“Ow, that stings.” Natasha winces as you clean the cut on her hand. 

“Stop moving,” you chastise her, as you begin to gently wrap the bandage around her hand. 

“You know, back when we first met, you didn’t make a sound when I was patching you up.”

Natasha gives you a teasing smirk, “That was because I didn’t know I would get a kiss from the pretty agent if I showed a little pain.”

Letting out a huff of laughter, you finish tying the bandage in place before turning her hand and pressing a soft kiss on her palm. 

You move to stand up to put away the supplies, but a tug on your hand causes you to stumble onto her lap, narrowingly avoiding her newly bandaged hand. 

“Nat!” You shouted, examining her hand again to make sure nothing was affected. 

After you finish your inspection, your concerned expression changes into an unserious glare when you finally look at her. 

Natasha has an amused smile on her face, as she raises her eyebrows pointedly at you.

Rolling your eyes, you cup her face, bringing her in for a soft kiss. Natasha’s smile widens against your lips before pressing closer to you, deepening the kiss. 

You were slowly losing yourself in the kiss when you felt her hand caress your thigh. Her injured hand. 

Your eyes snap open at the realization, and you quickly jump off of her lap. Natasha remains frozen in her position, eyes blinking in confusion at your sudden disappearance.  

“No, none of that, you are on bed rest until we get to Wanda’s and Vision’s location.” You reprimand her, moving away quickly towards the door in case she pulls you in again. 

Natasha stands up to follow you, disbelief on her face.

“It’s just a small cut.”

She grabs your hand to turn you around and sees the concern in your eyes.

“What else is bothering you?”

You sigh as you look down at your joined hands, gently caressing the top of her bandage.

“I’m just worried. It’s not like them to not check in.” 

“They probably just lost track of time and forgot.”

Natasha brings her face close to yours.

“Trust me. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You give her a short peck on the lips, smiling at her.

“I always have.”

Natasha smiles at you with love in her eyes before walking backward, pulling you with her. 

“We still have an hour before we reach their location.”

She tilts her head at the bed and raises her eyebrow suggestively. 

You give her an exasperated look.

“You’re injured.”

She has a teasing smirk when she replies.

“There are other things I can do to you that don't require my hand.” 

You roll your eyes and shake your head fondly at her, but you don’t resist when she pulls you on top of her, your body melting into hers perfectly.

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: mingyu + tuxedo

vote for this fic in the poll!

alternative title: the wolf and the fox

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

genre: spy au, club au, strangers to lovers, sexual tension

word count: 1220

warnings: slightly suggestive themes, illegal business, drugs mention

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav

If there is one thing about his job that Mingyu despises, it’s going on undercover missions.

Not that he’s not good at it. Oh, no—Mingyu is one of the best, and he knows that, but sometimes he wishes he could have a simple, in-your-face fight with their enemies, rather than having to slink around and don fake smiles and fake personalities and stab people in the back.

“So, who’s the target this time?” Mingyu mutters to himself, smoothing down the lapels of his tuxedo as he eyes the rest of the aristocrats mingling around in the dimly lit room.

His earpiece crackles. “You’ll know them when you see them,” Wonwoo’s smooth voice replies.

Mingyu rolls his eyes, looking around in disgust as the richest people of their nation get high in this illegal drug party he’s infiltrated. “I need more information than that. Come on, I know Seungcheol trusts me, but I can’t find our target with my gut instincts alone.”

“Mingyu.”

“It’s not like I’m a bloody psychic or anything. Am I meant to go round and asking everyone for their names? Because there are a lot of people here. I don’t think I can do it. It might take forever.”

“Mingyu, come on, Cheol already told you. The less you know, the better.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Yeah, and I still don’t get it. How can less information help me on this mission? I don’t get it. Wonwoo, can't you tell me anything? Just one small detail? Pretty please?”

“Alright, just shut up,” Wonwoo says, and Mingyu can hear his eyeroll. He grins triumphantly. “I’ll tell you their name. They’ll introduce themselves as Y/N.”

“Wha— you’re going to give me a name? That’s it?”

“That’s all I’m allowed to give you. Good luck.”

“Y/N?” Mingyu says, lost. But the line has gone dead, and he huffs in annoyance, tapping his earpiece. “Wonwoo, come on, who’s Y/N?”

“That would be me,” a soft voice says from behind him, and it’s a wonder he hears you above the clamour of the club, but there’s something commanding and attention-capturing about your voice that makes him turn.

You’re standing right next to his elbow, having somehow managed to slink up to him undetected where he sits by the bar.

“Y/N,” Mingyu says, and gives you a once-over. Your eyes are bright, smile mysterious and deceptive, but there’s nothing that gives you away as a potential target. But then you smile wider, a brilliant flashing of teeth, almost predatory, and he grins. 

“Were you looking for me?” you ask, voice still deceptively soft, like you’re playing a game that only you know the rules of, and he decides that he’d indeed like to play your game for a while. A long while, in fact. Enough to figure you out, and then some.

He slides off the bar stool, reaching for your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. “Mingyu,” he introduces, looking up at you from where he’s still bent over your hand, lips quirking up into a smirk. “And I’d love to have a dance with you.”

And so that’s what you do.

You manoeuvre him into the centre of the floor with ease, and the music is thumping and the lights flash in a brain-aching way, but the two of you sway gently as if it’s the most romantic moment in the world.

Mingyu’s still trying to size you up, trying to identify the threat, trying to see if he’s meant to get you on their side or make an enemy out of you immediately. However, before he can say anything, anything to gauge who you are and what you want, you look down at where his hands rest on your waist, and then back up at him through your lashes.

“I think we’d make a good pair,” you say, flashing that brilliant smile again. “You and I. We’d work together really well.”

He tilts his head to the side, momentarily losing his focus as you lick your lips slowly. As if you want to eat him.

“Would we?” he says after a moment, and your smile widens. “In what way?”

There are a thousand innuendos there, and neither of you are blind to that. He expects some crude joke about positions and bedrooms, as would be customary of the vulgar aristocrats who frequent this place, but you reply with something rather different.

"Well, we will be like a wolf and a fox," you say, smoothing Mingyu’s suit shoulders and tugging at his tie cheekily. 

Hm, Mingyu thinks. Like partners in crime. And he’s not unaware of the way you had said “will”. As if this was something that would happen in the future.

Well. Mingyu certainly wouldn’t be against that.

"Oh? And who will be the wolf and who will be the fox?" Mingyu decides to humour your interesting talkings, allowing you to pull him forward, grinning. 

"Let me think," you hum, a smirk on your face as you fondle the folds of the tie before your eyes trail up to flutter at Mingyu. "I think you'll be the wolf."

Mingyu’s hands wrap more tightly around your waist, chuckling at the small noise of appreciation that leaves your lips. You’re still swaying across the floor, but the loud music has faded from your ears. It’s just the two of you and the electricity crackling in a protective shell around you. "And why is that, my dear fox?"

Your smirk grows. "Well, you're the bumbling one. The large, burly figure, perhaps not the smartest, but by God are you smoking hot." 

Mingyu chuckles, and he’s not even hiding the fact that his gaze is trained on your lips. “Smoking hot, am I?”

"Hmm, maybe," you tease. "And me, well… I’m sly. Smaller, sneakier, and yet still devastatingly beautiful, am I not?"

You lift up a finger to trace Mingyu’s jawline, and he leans even closer, eyes searing. 

"You are a sly one, that's for sure," he murmurs. Your scent is utterly intoxicating. Mingyu closes his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck. It takes everything in him not to bury his face into your neck, or smash your lips together, or press you even closer against him and never let you go. 

But before he has the chance to do anything at all, you’ve disappeared, and Mingyu is left holding no one, only the faintest scent of your heady perfume being left behind. 

Mingyu opens his eyes, dizzy and disoriented, looking round the hazy club for where you might have gone. He sighs in frustration, stuffing his hands into his pockets and attempting to reach for his phone before finding— 

He huffs, letting out a dry chuckle as he turns out his empty pockets. "A sly fox, alright," he murmurs. "How bold of someone to steal from one of the renowned figures of the spy world," he smiles to himself, dangling your golden necklace from between his fingers, slightly-too-small silver rings adorning his pinkies. 

Y/N is an interesting person, that’s for sure.

Mingyu’s earpiece crackles again.

“Mingyu? Did you find Y/N?”

Mingyu stares off into the distance, where your figure has disappeared, a slight smile on his face. “I did.”

“Good. Because they’re going to be your partner on this next mission.”

“W— my what?!”

[midnightfantasiez]

Watch It | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: you were summoned to stop the crime spree of the renowned group The Boyz by hacking into one of the systems to retrieve information about a specified location before it's too late. what you did not expect was that their leader has been spying on every move you make from the shadows and eventually confronting you about it, which then turns into your biggest nightmare.

PAIRING: criminal Sangyeon x hacker f!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: kissing, petnames (sweetheart, baby, princess), mentions about violence/illegal business (stealing), size kink, voyeurism, dirty talk, public sex, rough sex, fingering, handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, they went for rounds, mean dom! Sangyeon

WORD COUNT: 3,235

A/N: let me explain. it was the ✨stare✨ from the concept pic itself that gave me ideas for this fic 😭 huge thanks to my bubba @juyeonszn for beta reading this & convincing me to change my theme ily forever 🥺💜 also shoutout to @daisyvisions @snowflakewhispers for fueling me with ideas / validating my horniness oops— (but ily both so much 😘)

“Agent Y/N, are you in position?” 

“Yes, sir. I am waiting for the right moment to jump into the enemy’s territory.” 

With one click on the earpiece, you immediately turned off the buzzing sound from the headquarters as you needed to focus and ensure that you were all alone and secure as you entered the place of interest.

As you flung your backpack onto your back, you quietly peeked through the few trucks parked in the parking lot right outside the abandoned building. Given that your job was to hack into the system and you needed good internet service, conducting it outdoors would be much more ideal than inside the building itself. 

You and your team received a transmission hours ago about how this group of individuals has been conducting illegal business, such as stealing information from multiple laboratories—specifically ones located on the outskirts of Seoul to avoid detection and arrest. According to your team’s analysts, they have also discovered how they had been stealing chemical solutions that were pretty much hazardous to the public, and god knows whatever they will be using them for.

In other words, they are a pretty suspicious gang, and someone has to look into their spree of crimes before things get out of control. Being one of the best hackers on the team, you were sent to the actual location to hack into their system as best as you could. 

So here you were, in the depths of the night, staking out the parking lot alone, hoping that all goes well and that you can quickly do the job and get out of there as soon as possible. Frankly, it all felt super eerie, especially when it was this late at night, and there weren’t many street lamps to provide enough light to make you feel safe by yourself. 

After looking thoroughly and confirming with your eyes that you were alone, you slowly moved towards the multiple trucks parked in the middle of the parking lot. You managed to squeeze yourself through them and get to a well-lit area; that was when you finally took your laptop out of your backpack and started hacking away. 

To the best of your abilities, you were able to sneak into the laboratory’s system fairly quickly, and you ran over their live security camera footage to check if the criminals were within the building. Immediately, the security camera footage popped up on the screen, and you could quickly identify several men scattered throughout the different labs within the facility. 

“They were probably looking for the right chemical, " you thought, as they were all split up and divided into three groups in each laboratory. While they were trying to find the liquid, you had to quickly hack into the database to retrieve all of the information regarding the facility and the chemicals produced over the years and quickly send them back to your headquarters for analysis. 

After about 10 minutes of transferring all of the files, it was time for you to get out of there and return to let the other agents that were on their way to take over and confront the criminals themselves. You weren’t a field agent, so you couldn’t do much physical combat against the criminals themselves. As much as you wanted to, you weren’t ready for your title as an agent to be stripped off you anytime soon; hence respecting the laws and just doing as you were told would be the wisest decision for now.  

You quickly phoned the headquarters, letting them know you had retrieved all the necessary documents and would finally return to report. As you were permitted to do so, you got up and were going to keep all of your belongings back in your backpack until one of the security cameras began flashing. 

You quickly got back down again, trying to see what was happening. That was when you remembered a crucial detail. 

According to the information you guys have had so far, you knew that the group of criminals consisted of 11 members, so you decided to do a headcount one by one on the screen, starting from 1 to 11.

“8…9…and 10.”

10? 

Someone was missing, but who?

Just then, a deep husky voice broke you off from your attention on the screen, and you looked around to see where it was coming from. Finally, you landed your eyes towards one of the vehicles right across you, and there he was—one of the criminals sitting right on top of the truck with both his legs spread wide apart, looking down towards you. 

“Aren’t you pretty good at your job, sweetheart?” 

Oh no. You were busted. 

“U-umm…sorry…it’s just that…I was supposed to write a report regarding this facility, so I am here to look around.”

“At this hour? Close to midnight? I highly doubt that, princess.” 

Immediately, he hopped down from the vehicle in one swift movement and began approaching you slowly. You instinctively shut your laptop, hugged it close to your chest, and backed away. 

“I-I’m sorry! It seems I came at the wrong time! I will take my leave now, then. I’m sorry to have disrupted you!” You bowed down profusely before turning your heel and tried to run as quickly as you could until he grabbed your wrist and pulled it upwards, turning back in his direction. 

There was this smug yet dangerous look on his face, contradicting the pure and innocent look he had on before. That sent a chill up your spine, and you quickly gulped before he slowly pushed you till your back finally hit against one of the trucks. You closed your eyes upon the impact and elicited a quiet yelp with his movement. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers lift your chin, and he commanded you to open your eyes to look straight at him. 

“Now sweetheart, we weren’t done having our little fun conversation yet, were we? It breaks my heart that you decided to take off running before we even started.” 

You were panicking as his grip slightly tightened around your wrist, pushing it back against the truck, signalling that you would be dead meat if you tried something funny again next time. You were stuck, and there was no way you could ring the headquarters as that would blow up your cover and the location of the base of operations. 

The only thing you could do was to pray that the field agents would make their way over to you soon until you heard a mild static and a voice calling through the earpiece.

“T-there isn’t much ser-service here, b-but we will be sli-slightly late d-due to the he-heavy traffic. H-hang in t-there, a-agent Y/N! W-we’ll surely be c-coming—” 

And then it all went silent. 

Your only hope was lost, as the enemy threatened and pinned you with little to no help coming your way anytime soon. You could use your physical combat skills to fight against the man before you, but something in your gut told you that it would be a horrible idea to try anything funny with him right now. 

With that, you could only take a deep breath and try to talk things out with him for a bit, stalling some time before help eventually arrived. 

“W-what…what do you want from me?” You questioned, or more like stammered. It was clear that you were trembling in your voice. 

The man chuckles slightly as he smiles back at you. “See, sweetheart. I’m afraid I can’t let you off that easily, knowing that you were spying on us and retrieving crucial evidence and information that would hinder our mission.”

This time, his fingers on your chin slowly travelled down to your neck and chest. It was the way he took his time gently sliding his finger down and touching your bare skin that made you let out a gasp. 

“I’d like to play a little game with you, princess.”

“W-what do you…” You were beginning to lose your mind as he brushed his fingers across your lips, smudging the lipstick that you’d put on prior. 

“I’d like to see how much you can handle, and trust me, we will have so much fun. I’ll make sure that you won’t be heading back to your headquarters anytime soon.”

Within seconds after that last sentence, he crashed his lips with yours and began savouring them as a tingling sensation ran through your body. He quickly deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with urgency. 

It was wrong. This was all so wrong.

You knew how bad this situation was because he was your enemy. But then, something about his lips made you crave more. His kisses tasted like honey, and the way he moved his lips against yours drove you insane. 

Without you knowing, your grip against the laptop slowly loosened, and eventually, he took it away from you and gently placed it on the ground, his hands quickly moving back up to your cargo pants, rubbing the spot in between your thighs, earning a gasp from you. 

He smiled as you gave him the reaction that he wanted, and he began to untie your pants before pulling them down, his fingers now brushing over your sensitive spot through the lace underwear that you were wearing. Slowly, he began to feel that you were starting to get wet, and that was his cue to hook his finger under the seam of your underwear before pulling them down, revealing your now wet clit all exposed. 

You hissed as the cold air from the atmosphere came in contact with your clit, and it took the enemy a moment to reconnect his fingers to your wet sensitive spot, rubbing it again before slowly inserting two fingers into you. 

“Aah…aaah…”

“I’ll be a dear and tell you my name, princess. Call me Sangyeon, moan for me,” he leaned towards you and whispered. 

“S-sangyeon….”

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me. I shall grant you your next reward now, hmm?” 

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he quickly moved them to his pants, unzipped and shoved them down rather hastily. It was the way you immediately noticed the erection through his boxers, and your eyes widened from just that alone. Sangyeon smirked at your reaction and reconnected his lips to yours to give you a few pecks. 

“Look at you already can’t stop staring at my big cock. Oh, baby. I’ll make sure that you won’t regret playing with it.” 

Immediately, he grabbed your free hand and guided you to touch his erection. You gasped from that alone while Sangyeon let out a soft groan. You couldn’t help but naturally start rubbing his tip, which made Sangyeon moan for you. 

“Touch me, baby.” He commanded. 

Guiding your hands again, he allowed you to pull his boxers down, and your mouth watered at the sight of his massive bulge. You wrapped your hands around his cock before you began gliding your hands up and down his member. In return, he inserted his fingers back into your clit once again, and the both of you were now a moaning mess.

“S-sangyeon…kiss me…please…” you whined, wanting to taste his sweet honey-like lips once again. 

“Oh, honey. You love the way my tongue twirls around yours?”

“Y-yes…very much…aaahh—” 

Just like that, he was now back to kissing you breathless. As his tongue slid into your mouth, he began sucking your tongue, and you shut your eyes tightly from the sensation. It made you forget entirely about how you were supposed to escape this guy as soon as possible, trying to find a potential hideout place to wait for your fellow agents. 

It seemed as if Sangyeon had wrapped you around his fingertips, just as he had planned to, and he would make sure that you wouldn’t be leaving this place anytime soon. He would proceed to the next step of his plan anytime now. 

He gently removed your hands away from his bulge as he took it himself to align the tip towards your entrance, and you knew that you were in big trouble. Now, you tried to move forward when his hand, still grabbing your wrist, tightened again and pushed it back towards the truck again. 

“Oh no, princess. We’re just getting started. Stay here with me, and I’ll give you the best fucking sex you’ll ever have.” 

As soon as those words slipped out of his mouth, he immediately slid himself into you, and you all but screamed, a teardrop falling from the corners of your eyes. Sangyeon didn’t even give you enough time to adjust to his huge size fully and eventually began slamming into you hard. 

“Fuck—fuck.” It was all that you could’ve said because you had already lost your mind ever since he kissed you for the first time. Now that he was within you? Oh, you were far, long gone from reality. 

Given the way he was fucking you so hard, even the truck that you were leaning against began rocking back and forth following your pace. 

Your eyes watered as he hit every single spot within you, causing you to cry out loud. If you were to be honest, it actually did hurt, especially which such a large and hard dick like his. But the pleasure far exceeded the pain, and you cried out for more. 

“Sangyeon…sangyeon…”

“Tell me what exactly you want, baby.”

“Keep it going…please…”

“Just like that? Are you sure that is enough?”

“I…want you to fuck me faster and harder—”

“Anything else?” He was now picking up the pace, and it was visible that his chest was rising up and down much quicker than before as he tried his best to catch his breath. 

“I…want you to fuck me till my legs feel numb, give me more and more…aaah—”

“That is what exactly I like to hear, sweetheart.” 

As he slammed into you hard, you felt a tight knot form around your stomach, signalling that you were about to reach your high and cum. Sangyeon noticed your demeanour as you buckled your hips and spread your legs wider for him to gain more access to you. 

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You screamed.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my cock, I want you to be dripping wet just for me.” He growled. 

With a few more pushes, you eventually released and spilled all of your juices all around his cock, so much so that it was oozing out of you, and it all splattered on the ground. 

You breathe in heavily before Sangyeon gives you a gentle kiss on the lips, reassuring you that you have done so well for him.

“That’s it, princess. What a good girl you’ve been. But unfortunately, there is more to come baby.” 

He grabbed both of your shoulders before turning you around rather aggressively, so now you were facing the truck instead. If you were to be honest, that rough act of his turned you on more than it was painful. It was a few seconds before you felt his grip return to you on both sides of your hips, as you felt his cock rubbing up and down once again on your dripping wet clit.

Sangyeon leaned forward to whisper in your ear, sending you a chill down your spine. “Give me some more, baby. You know you can do it.”

As he pushed his cock back into you, an immense moan spilt out from your mouth as he began pounding into you again. You had already had sex and felt his member all around you just a minute prior, yet you were still struggling to adjust to his bulge. 

“God, sweetheart. I’ve already fucked you hard, and yet you’re still so tight. I guess I wasn’t rough enough.” 

As he pounds into you, your hands that were pressed against the truck begin pushing the vehicle once again. If only there were someone around, you swear to god that the car's movement would be more than enough to prove that something wasn’t right and that there were people everywhere in the empty parking lot. 

But your comrades are still nowhere to be seen, and you were still bounded by the criminal himself, fucking you till you were sore to the point that you would not be able to walk on your own after this. 

“S-sangyeon…I-I wanna cum again for you so badly…” You whimpered. 

This time, he moved one of his hands up to grab a chunk of your hair and pulled it back; that firm sudden grip caused you to scream once again for him.

“Do it then. Cum with me this time.” He commanded, pulling your hair and pounding into you even harder. 

“Fuck—fuck—fuck—Sangyeon!! I’m cumming!!” 

With one final hard thrust, both of you released your liquids before slowing down the momentum and catching your breaths together. He removed his grip from your hair before he grabbed your chin and turned your head back for him to kiss you again. You snaked your hands up to his neck to return the favour. 

Just then, you heard sirens coming from afar, and you heard static in your earpiece again. 

“Agent Y/N, please respond! We’re finally here to infiltrate the facility; please head out, return to the back of our vehicle, and stay put!” 

It was your cue to leave now, and there was no more extended point in you staying here. 

You gulped before you pulled away from Sangyeon, mustering up the courage to reject him for good this time. 

“S-sangyeon…I have to go…I can’t stay here any more.” You stammered, hoping that he would finally let you leave this time, especially since he had already gotten what he wanted. 

But you should’ve known better because his familiar dark and dangerous look was plastered on his face again, and he pushed you back against the truck. 

“You know, now that your comrades are here, I’m afraid there’s more reason for me not to let you leave now, hmm? I’ve been stalling time for my boys to get what they want in the facility before your agents arrive to ruin our plan. While they were doing that, I was out here guarding the area, making sure nobody was to sabotage our plan.” 

So that was why he played this little dirty game with you.

“Knowing my boys, I’m pretty sure that they have gotten everything we need, and all they have to do is defeat your fellow agents, and then we will leave. And while they are doing that, you will keep me company until they’re done.” He threatened. 

This time, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards the front of the car, directly where you could see clearly how your fellow agents were confronting the criminals. Within seconds, a fight has broken out between them across the facility, and you have no choice but to stay here helplessly and be unable to provide them with any aid. 

Before you could say anything, Sangyeon yanked you down towards the hood of the car so that you were lying on top of it, and he prepared to go for a third round with you.

“I want you to watch closely with how you and your fellow agents are going to fail this mission terribly while I fuck you real good till you’re begging for more.”

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @heemingyu @snowflakewhispers (join my permenant taglist here!)

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Listen for best experience:

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ Die For You - The Weeknd ('70s James Bond Style Cover) starring Tatum Langley

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. Dawn and Twilight. The unstoppable duo. But what dit he past lovers do when they’re stuck in a spy predicament?

wc . around 1,529

tags . agent twilight. loid forger. twilight x reader. loid forger x reader. angsty. mentions of d3@th. mentions of su1c1d3. mission. reader is a spy. forbidden love. reader is called dawn.

The clock creeps towards midnight and the both of you, Twilight and Dawn, take careful steps down the dark alleyway. The moonlight casts ever-moving shadows that dance underneath the stars on the rocky pavement. The air seems to be thick with the pressing tension of the mission, urgent to capture the targets. With guns positioned in front, the both of you continue walking along the path, staying close to the walls. Another explosion goes off, this time closer to your location, frightened you jump slightly.

Twilight, ever the silent professional, gestures ahead, eyes narrowing at the sight of two guards patrolling the perimeter of the target building. You nod, understanding the unspoken command. It's time to split up. You take the left flank, pressing yourself against the cool, rough surface of the wall. Your breaths come shallow and controlled, each one a conscious effort to remain undetected.

The earpiece buzzes softly, and Twilight's voice, calm and composed, fills your ear. "Two guards at the east entrance. I'll distract. You infiltrate."

"Copy that," you whisper back, fingers tightening around the grip of your silenced pistol. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. You wait for the signal, watching as Twilight steps into the light, drawing the guards' attention with a well-placed diversion.

With the guards distracted, you slip through the shadows, each movement precise and deliberate. You reach the door, a rusty, heavy thing that creaks ominously as you push it open just enough to slide through. You move quickly, your footsteps barely a whisper on the worn linoleum floor.

A quick glance at the blueprint in your mind guides you down the narrow hallway. The target room is just ahead, a secure vault containing the intel you and Twilight have risked everything to obtain. You pause at the corner, listening for any signs of life. The faint hum of machinery and the distant murmur of voices reach your ears, but nothing immediate.

"Twilight, I'm in," you murmur into the comms, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

"Good. Stay alert," comes the response, a note of concern slipping through Twilight's usually stoic demeanor.

Suddenly, Twilight's voice cuts through the silence, a note of urgency you've never heard before. "They're setting explosives. We don't have much time."

Your heart skips a beat. The mission has taken a deadly turn. You push forward, entering the central hall to find Twilight crouched by a device, his face illuminated by the harsh glow of the timer counting down.

From yoiur building you see him inthe distance, far into the opposing building,a t the top of the tower. Without thinking you rush out of the building, desparate to save your love. Twilght.

The two of you have had your forbidden share of each other, in past when the two of you were new and naive and let your feelings cross your job. As a spy, feelings are not a part of the contract. You got caught by your superior fraternising on the mission, causing the target to go free, and causing great calamity. The two of you got separated for years, on different missions across the world as a price of your selfishness. Through all the time you’ve spent apart, you’ve never had a night, where the image of him doesn’t appear. He seems to be the focus of your life and you can’t seem to rid him. The n came the day they announced you’d be sent back, working in the same division, and every second counting down to that flight back had your skin itching in anticipation, anticipation to see your Twilight. If he reciprocated those feelings were unbeknownst to you, after all, years have passed, new people have been met, expertise and professionalism have increased and one lesson has been learnt between the two of you. Now Twilight seems like a man of lacking a heart and the ability to empathise, almost as if the two of you never happened, like it was some big slip-up, messing up his career. You didn’t care. Sure it was detrimentally crushing when the truth was learnt and faced, but you’re professional. These silly feelings will die away and you can carry on with your life.

The sound of your shoes on the fire escape near him causes him to lift his head.

"Dawn they've rigged the place," he says, looking up at you, his eyes betraying a flicker of fear.

“I know.” you respond, though Twilight not quite catching on to the reason why your face is still, he doesn’t process.

"We can disarm it, but it’s too risky. They’ll escape. The only way to ensure they’re captured is-” you kneel next to him sielntly, keeping your eyes on the grate the both of you are supported on, suspend in the air, beneath the the ticking ball of death.

“Twilight.” you start, looking up at him, the only glimmer in your eyes is that of the moon reflecting from it, and the only twinkle is from the tears pricking them. “I can’t let you live this life knwoing I haven’t died telling you this.” you begin. “I love you. Since the day I met you, the day I laid my eyes on you, I’ve loved you unconditionally ever since. No matter how many oceans they spearated us I still hedl you dear to my heart. This isn’t professional and you may not even reciprocate but I still lvoe oyu endlessly, and I know emotions shouldn’t come in the way of the mission but I’m willing to stay behind as you go the gates and lock the guards.” you say, tears running down your face in a consistent stream, your voice not quivering thought.

The air seems to thicken as you swallow thickly awaitign his response, awaiting the bomb to explode, awaiting the failure of this doomed mission.

“I love you.” he states bluntly at first, but when you look up at him you see his face melt with fear, relief and regret all at once. In an instant, his demeanour has cracked. “I haven’t gone a night without thinking about us, what if we never got split up, where would be be now. My heart has been yearning for you the second I woke up to you gone and it’s never been reassured since.” he places his hand in yours, which rests atop the pattern of the metal grate. It is magnetic, its attraction, the way the both of you pull together from your core, lips fitting together like a lock and key. The kiss is sweet and sharp, sweet with a solid resolution, a kiss shared between the fact both of you share a mutual love. But the sharp, acidity of your kiss is mingled with your tears, the both of your rue and regret, the both of your longing for more time.

Time.

Pulling away, you take a shaky exhale, the both fo you locking eyes, finding comfrot in the midst of of the chaos.

“Dawn,I can’t die without asking you, to be mine again? If you wish.” he asks, his blond locks are disarranged and beautifully fall on his face.

“Wait-”

“Listen there’s just no other way.” he explains, stroking the hair beside your face to consolidate you as the tears reinvite theirselves again.

“Not here has to be. There-there has to be. I-”

He shakes his head sorrowfully, a small smile on his lips. “There is no other way.”

“But it doens’t end like this. It doesn’t end like this in my dreams. in my dreams we-we get married and live in a beautiful white house, with a dog and kids and-and-.” you’re breaking down again, in his arms as you place your head on his chest as he cradles you. You sobbing profusely, scared to lose the only connection you’ve ever made, taking the moment shared together for granted, not truly appreciating the importance of them. Failing to comprehend the ephemerality of human life. Though you calm down, you don’t have any other choice and the man seems set on his decisions, no matter how much they twist your heart.

“Well then, Dawn, do you take me Agent Twlight, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he asks you as you seprate and slowly, slowly, you nod, pressing your lips into a tight line.

“I do.” you mutter, deppenign the phsycial connection from your cheek to his hand that caresses it.

“And will you, Dawn, all me to take you as my lawfully wedded wife?”

“You can.”

The two of you share another haste, kiss, almost as if, if the both of you don’t hold each other any higher then the other will slip away into the air, only to be remembered as a memory. The both of you pull away, resting your foreheads together.

“I love you, Dawn.” he whispers, keeping it a precious fondness between the both of you.

“I love you too, Twilight.” you respond.

Without another second to waste, he urges you to enter the tower, throguht the widnow beside you. Biting back your sobs, you forcefuly smile at him. Watching as he rertuns the warm smile, before falling back into the exploding flames beneath.

Love so bittersweet.

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

this was very impulsive. i know yall don't really dig up angst the same way yall do smut. (horndogs) but i had to write this anyway.

[lovelytsunoda]

goldeneye // pierre gasly (secret agent au!)

summary: she’s high ranking mi-6, and he’s the french intelligence thorn in her side. but to take down international arms dealer christian horner, they may need to work together, or risk losing their target altogether

pairing: pierre gasly x female secret agent! reader

warnings: typical spy movie things (knives, physical violence, espionage, christian horner is the bad guy, fashionable weaponry and gadgets), pierre gets a bad rap for being french. allusions to sex, fake marriage trope , goes from 0 to 100 real fucking fast.

see reflections on the water // m ore than darkness in the depths // see him surface in every shadow // on the wind I feel his breath // goldeneye, I found his weakness // goldeneye, he'll do what I please // goldeneye, no time for sweetness // but a bitter kiss will bring him to his knees

part i: the chateau

the echo of her high heels against the floor was deafening as she strode across the chateau, attempting to ignore the chattering of voices around her.

parties had never been her thing, especially not ones frequented by europes top criminal masterminds.

“no eyes on horner and we’ve been here for an hour.” she muttered quietly, hoping that the earpiece could pick up her voice as she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter “and my feet fucking hurt in these shoes. why couldn’t you have sent lewis in?”

“because horner knows my face. my op got blown last year.” lewis sighed. “you were still working in the lab, so very few people outside the agency know who you are.”

she wasn’t a field agent, she shouldn’t be there at all. she’d graduated top of her class from cambridge with a degree in mechanical engineering, and she basically kept mi-6 from falling apart. every time an agent credited a gadget with saving their life, there was a ninety percent chance the gadget was one of hers.

but alas, after project silver arrow had gone belly-up, and special agent lewis hamiltons identity was touted to the red bull conglomerate, lead by none other than international arms dealer christian horner, and agent george russell was shot in the shoulder on mission in budapest, she was the only agent left who’s identity was still a secret.

three weeks of training later and she was here in france, wearing stilettos that head heels that doubled as knives, in a billowing green dress that made her stick out like a sore thumb.

it was no secret that horner has a wandering eye, despite being married to one of the biggest pop stars of the mid nineties. after all else had failed, the agency wondered if a honey trap would be the best way to catch the man in the act.

frankly, the thought of getting into bed with him made her feel sick to her stomach.

"turn your head slowly, look at the man in the black suit, three oclock." lewis' voice crackled to life. "he's been watching you all night, and i'm not getting good vibes."

she turned her head, almost gagging on her champagne.

"i said turn your head slowly, kiddo. he's probably harmless, but just in case, i don't want him knowing you're on to him."

catching her eye, the man in the suit took off down a side hallway, abruptly brushing past three waiters in the process and knocking a platter of oysters to the floor.

"that was odd." lewis mused. "i know you'll want to follow him, so just keep a safe distance. do not engage the target."

"what if he's going straight to horner?" she worried, hurrying as much as she could on stiletto heels to follow the mystery man out of teh chateau.

"keep your cool and use the panic button if you have to."

she marched down the hallway, leaving her empty champagne bottle on a tray next to the revolving kitchen door as she balled up her dress skirt, pulling it away from her heels as she made her way down the hall.

she found the man outside, he was leaning against a stone balcony. from underneath the layers of fine italian craftsmanship he was wearing, it would take a fool to miss how broad and built the man was.

"stay away from horner." he spoke with a thick french accent, his voice carrying over the breeze as she walked towards him. "he's dangerous. you don't know what you're getting into."

she raised an eyebrow, settling in next to him against the balustrade, rock warm against her bare hands. "who is it that you think i am?"

"does it matter? a wannabe model, a movie star. the kind of bullshit that clings to fame and fortune, no matter what the cost, and you end up getting taken advantage of along the way. trust me, christian horner would eat you alive." he turned to look at her and she got a glimpse of his sad eyes, the stubble around his jawline. the poof of his brunette hair. "so leave while you still can, mon cher."

“bait him, y/n.” lewis encouraged. “find out what he knows, but do not give yourself away.”

she took a deep breath, sitting on the balustrade and crossing one leg over the other, fingers tapping against the heels of her shoes. “what if I know exactly what I’m getting into? christian horner is a very wealthy, very powerful man. i know about jeddah, and I know about lusail.”

lusail had been the base for project silver arrows. horner had been attempting to sell arms to rebel groups in qatar, and lewis had been attempting to pose as a foreign buyer, hoping to stop the sale. obviously the operation hadn’t gone according to plan.

there was a rustle from the man as he reached into his suit jacket, and she barely had time to think before she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

“who the fuck do you work for? are you one of his?”

“i should be asking who the hell you are.” she growled, yanking the blade right out of her shoe, pointing the sharp-tipped tool at the frenchman

“you first.”

“not a chance in hell. we draw credentials at the same time or not at all.”

the frenchman caught the bait, reaching into his jacket pocket as she reached down the bodice of her dress for her own identification.

“oh fuck me to the moon and back.” she cussed, seeing what was printed on his id card.

pierre gasly, french intelligence

part two: the compromise

they sat in a debriefing room in french intelligence headquarters. everything about the room screamed old money, right down the the heavy wooden roundtable they sat around. y/n was wedged between Lewis and george, staring daggers at pierre as their handler paved the room.

“if this bitch hadn’t followed me out of the chateau, horner would be awaiting trial at The Hague!”

her jaw dropped. “if I hadn’t followed you? if I hadn’t thought you were suspicious, I wouldn’t have had to! we had a plan.”

it wasn’t a plan she had liked, but it was a plan.

“if your agency hadn’t bungled the lusail operation, we e wouldn’t even be here right now!”

“you fucking take that back you baguette fucker!” she shouted, getting to her feet. “we did everything right in lusail!”

that was when it was decided that enough was enough. lewis grabbed for her arm, a silent plea to stop making a scene. george snickered, laughter hidden behind his fist and disguised as a cough as y/n and pierre glared daggers at each other over the table.

pierres eyes cut deep. she felt like he could see into her entire soul, while his own eyes put up such a wall between his face and his own soul. she felt like he could see everything about her, and yet she couldn’t see him at all.

damn those ocean eyes. damn the jolt of something that passed through her body when she fell under his gaze.

“enough!” her handler shouted, finally done pacing the room. peter bonnington glared at the duo, a flash of pure fury crossing his face. “this situation is fucked for all of us. two foreign agencies are t supposed to be working the same target at the same time, so clearly some wires got crossed.”

“no shit.” george laughed. “god, I’ve never been so happy to be on medical leave.”

“shut the fuck up, russell.” she crossed her arms over her chest, flopping down into her rickety wheeled chair.

across the table, pierres handler crossed his own arms over his chest. laurent rossi was a stoic man, tall and refined, but with a penchant for beating around the bush. the faces within mi-6 thought he was a bit of a pompous git.

“we have a solution.” laurent proposed. “our best chance at catching horner and getting him off the streets is to work together.”

pierre gawked. pierre gasly was nobody’s partner. a line wolf, and he had been ever since his partner was killed back on the last op they worked together, bringing down one of horners associates in austria.

and that’s why getting horner was so important.

for charles.

“not on your life.” he snarled at laurent. “I work alone.”

“if you expect me to work well with him, you must be on lsd.”

despite himself, pierre liked her take-no-shit, speak your mind attitude shown by the young british agent. why, he wondered to himself, had she spent so long as a desk agent when she could match wits with the best of the field agents.

“the decision has been made.” bono boomed. “and an arrangement has been made for you both to stay at horners chateau this upcoming weekend.”

“what’s the catch?” pierre questioned. “this sounds too easy.”

laurent chuckled. “ah, this is the part that you both will hate me for.”

“you’ll go in as interested buyers. a married couple, to be specific.”

part three: the ruse

the vintage cadillac trundled down the long country drive to christian horners french estate. the pair were already dressed to match their cover stories: he was in a tasteful linen shirt and khakis, and she was in a silk floral sundress.

she opened a small velvet box in her lap, extracting the diamond earring that acted as an earpiece, connecting her back to lewis and george.

pierre watched through the corner of her eye as she connected the earpiece, radioing in to home base to let them know she was all ears.

“that’s a good idea, hiding the earpiece in the earring. it’s less detectable.” the frenchman hummed

“i know, i designed it. it was originally supposed to be for lewis, since he has so many piercings and it would have blended right in.”

she tapped on the fake diamond to activate the earpiece, sending Pierre a look to remind him that all their conversations would now be recorded onto an mi-6 server.

“you nervous?”

“no.” she lied, fiddling with the brim of her straw hat, a small camera tucked under the band.

but she was nervous. more nervous than she had ever been in her life.

she was about to get up close and personal with the most dangerous man in europe and she was going to lie about who she was. one misphrased question could be the difference between life and death.

“I’m sure you’re going to be fine, and if you get nervous, just let me take the lead. this is how we profiled horner, hes going to use me as the point of contact.” pierre reminded her “which means that you get to do all of the fun sneaking around espionage kinda things.”

the frenchman let his hand drip down towards her leg, thumb gently running along her skin. she reddened under his touch, unable to deny the butterflies in her stomach at the gentle and reassuring way that he touched her.

when they got out of the car, beginning to follow the path up to the chateau while horners handmaidens grabbed their luggage from the car, Pierre’s hand on her back was a comfortable guide, and she couldn’t deny the heat on her skin underneath his touch, hidden by the shadow cast by the wide brim of her hat.

maybe pretending to be pierre gaslys wife wouldn’t be so bad after all.

they walked up the crest of a hill to a large stone patio surrounded by plants, no doubt planted by horners wife. there was nobody around except for a man in a crisp navy button down shirt, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he stared off into the distance, his back towards the agents.

“ah, you must be the wolffs! i saw the two of you coming up to driveway. apologies for how long it is, i like a little bit of privacy.” the figure chuckled, spinning around to face them.

there he was. christian horner, in the flesh.

“let’s get this meeting started then, shall we?”

part four: for queen and country

she stood in the ensuite bathroom, smoothing out the front of her dress as she exhaled, staring at herself in the mirror. she felt pretty, seductive, even, but she didn’t think she could play this part. be this person that the agencies depended on her being.

and maybe there was also a part of her that was worried about looking good for pierre.

maybe this wasn’t a bad thing after all. wasn’t this what espionage was; faking it until you made it? maybe she could enjoy pretending to be someone else for a while. someone who did impulsive things like make out with her coworkers or have sex with men who were very clearly attracted to her.

although, dense as she was, she had missed the signs. lewis and george hadn’t, going on and on over the comms system about how pierre was practically undressing her with his eyes before bono came on call and told them to stop acting like teenagers and observe their surroundings like the agents they were supposed to be.

there was a knock on the bathroom door, and she cleared her throat, shout raspy as she told pierre she’d be out in a second.

she tiptoed out of the bathroom, the chateaus stone floor cold on her feet as she allowed the short dress to dust her thighs, hair just brushing her shoulders.

“you clean up nice, desk agent.” pierre hummed, his eyes tracing over the exposed parts of her body.

“so do you, baguette boy.” her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of the man in front of her, dressed pristinely in his three piece suit, hair fluffed to perfection. the navy suit was stark against the white dress shirt, the first few buttons undone to show off his golden cross necklace.

she cleared her throat, looking away as blush coated her cheeks.

pierre took her manicured hand in his, whispering something in french that made her pussy throb as she but her lip to stop from moaning. he kissed her knuckles gently before turning to face her.

“you know we’re supposed to be newlyweds who can’t keep their hands off each other, right.”

“then don’t. do what you’d do if we were newlyweds.”

pierre inhaled softly, his hands possesivley going to her waist. “oh, mon cher, if we start I won’t be able to stop.”

“good. it sells the cover better.” she hummed, hand shaking as she reached up to caress his face. “fuck me, baguette boy.”

pierre chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over hers, laughing even more when she whined at the lack of contact.

“oh, you’ll be calling me something totally different once I get my way with you.”

for queen and country. that was her oath. but kissing pierre gasly, pressed up against a wall with his hand between her legs and his tongue down her throat, she was ready to give up queen and country.

he was like oxygen, and she was coming up from a deep sea dive, tearing his shirt open almost animalistically.

“wait, wait.” she gasped, eyes flying open at the sound of shocked breathing and laughter. “my earpiece is still in.” she tapped on the receiver, a hickey forming in her sweaty skin as he tried to regain her breathing.

“fuck you both!” she shouted, knowing full well that lewis and george could hear her. “I’m taking the receiver out now, thank you very much. and delete the end of that recording.”

“nah, mate.” george laughed. “the bit where you called him baguette boy and then asked him to fuck you was comedic gold!”

“george! I’ll tell bono about the recording of you and those two models in monte carlo two summers ago.”

“right on, I’m deleting the last ten minutes, sound good?”

as she pulled out the earpiece and sealed it in the nightstand drawer, pierre chuckled, pulling his suit jacket and the remains of his shirt off.

“blackmail? I didn’t think you’d stoop that low just to get your rocks off.”

“shut up.” she laughed, pulling him in by the belt loops. “I did him a solid and deleted that recording as soon as I saw it. george is just so much fun to fuck with.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak about other men when I’m about to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk in an hour.” his voice was husky as he spun her around, pressing his cock against her ass.

“then give me a reason to forget georges name.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @silversainz @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @clemswrld @httpiastri

[anyaeras]

Beg & Call || N.Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x AFAB reader

Summary- y/n and Natasha are togeter in Russia on a mission yet, Natasha take interest in making her yours.

Warning- Smut‼️ dom!natasha x Sub!reader strap-on , vibrator, fingers, gaging, a bit of boundge (very little), pet names, pet names (and the name slut) , ass smacking. Overstimulation

Psa- I am a Russian speaker, so my simplifications might not be the easiest to translate over. I'll do my best to include meaning/definition in the writing.

My Master list

--------

Agent y/n, reporting in Saint Petersburg. Day 81 of mission BW.

Y/n had been working beside the amazing black widow for a few months now, yet that strong red head was like an addiction for y/n drawing them in like a fly caught in a spiderweb.

Tonight wasn't going to be the end of this mission but it would be a breakthrough, tonight Natasha and y/n were to attend a party like event which would not only have hydra members attending, but one of the main leaders of the organization would be attending giving us the opportunity to get the Intel they needed to arrest or take down the agency.

Walking out of the bathroom from the safe house y/n and Natasha was staying at, you watched as Natasha was now dressed in a beautiful black cocktail dress, her beautiful, red hair was hidden behind a wig to keep her from being recognized in what she could call her "hometown"

You were dressed nice as well, in a beautiful cocktail dress following the dressing norms of the event and Russian stereotypes. You watched as Natasha pulled a beautiful fur jacket onto herself before handing you some accessories, Natasha kept you on your toes her sly attitude yet charming personality always kept you feeling butterflies inside your chest.

"You coming darling" Natasha asked y/n heading for the door already causing you to play catch-up, stumbling over yourself to keep up with the Russian spy.

On your way to the event Natasha gave you quick remarks as reminders, to help you perfect your Russian, yet you also knew other than basic Smalltalk you had no intentions of speaking anybody.

Upon arrival to the event you win, along with the mission planned as told, placing the earpiece into your ear and walking and confidently memorizing your backstory. On the other hand, to the famous black widow this was child's play, so she decided to spice up the mission for herself, spending the night teasing you, Natasha was more than aware of the little crush you had on her, and honestly she was ready to use a to her advantage, and let's be honest y/n would look so pretty under her.

After mingling for some time, the man that you were here to gain information on just so happened to approach you.

"привет, ты здесь впервые? как тебя зовут?" (hello, are you new around here? What's your name?) he asked quickly with a sly smirk on his face, you looked him in the eye holding yourself with confidence before responding.

"я тут с другом я Саша" (Im here with a friend, I'm Sasha) y/n played off the questions with a hold of their identity quickly, using a common enough name to blend in. The conversation was going fine, until you felt a hand riding down on your lower back, turning around only to be meant with the sharp features of Natasha Romanoff, she was moving her hand down, lower while pushing herself in the conversation covering up for your Russian, you were a very well trained spy, and could keep a straight face, but the feelings inside you were bubbling.

Going along with your job, you originally thought Natasha was just playing the part of your "friend" but over time tonight she's been all over you, yet of course only you would notice, the black widow never blew her cover. Heading away from the crowd you found a door which specifically read "Не входить" (do not enter) hoping for some Intel you pulled a pin from your nicely done hair, and use the lock pick tool that was built into your bracelet to break into the room being met with an entire lab, a huge score for this mission you were quick to put flash drives where are you could to extract what you can in the time you have.

Rushing out of the room with the Intel you know held, you went to find Natasha to tell her it was safe to leave, making your way to the exit noticing the fake taxi waiting for you guys knowing it was safe to speak in the vehicle, as the driver was a shield agent.

Setting in the backseat you tried to fill Natasha in whom was sitting beside you but her hand slowly riding up on your thigh was mildly distracting, yet you want more so badly. Hoping to get back to the safe house quickly so you could make space between yourselves in hopes to pull yourself together, and be professional.

When arriving to the safe house as the two of you entered the safe house, Natasha pushed y/n's body up against the door as it shut going straight for the kiss, Natasha held that kiss till you both couldn't breathe, before pulling you to the bedroom.

"You were so good today? Being such a good spy hmm?" Natasha teased you with the praise, as she stripped herself from her dress revealing a strap she had hidden under tight dress, the size was shocking, y/n wondered how she could even hide that.You realized right then and there you were hers to fuck, hers to make dumb, you were at Natasha's beg and call.

"Look at you baby already so dumb for my cock?" Natasha comment made you moan softly causing her to chuckle

Natasha walked closer to you, grabbing your jaw with her long fingers holding you in a tight hold "You are okay with this right y/n"

Your rapidly nodded in response "yes, yes please" you didn't realize you were horny enough to beg, but you needed her.

"Strip." That was all y/n needed to strip away of all clothing.

"Aww so pretty for my детка." (Baby) Natasha was now hovering over you, pinning you to the bed, before reaching around to get a soft silky rope to tie your hands above you head, now limiting your senses as Natasha started to kiss you, no need to fight for dominance she already was in control, holding the deep kiss for some time before moving down your body, going for your neck before your chest. Drawing nice moans form your mouth was like music to the famous black widows ears.

She reached down running her single pointer finger threw your folds collecting your arousal

"Princessa you are dripping" Natasha teased before shoving her fingers into your mouth, pushing back cause you to gag a bit giving herself satisfaction in your gags

"You're so pretty for me, you want me to fuck you baby. Beg" Natasha pulled her fingers from your mouth moving the now wet fingers to your clit rubbing soft and slowly prompting you to beg her.

"Shit- Natalia please fuck me, please OH FU-" before y/n could finish as Natasha heard her given name she pushed her cock in quickly now feeling the need to fuck the person lying below her. Starting off at a quick pace not giving y/n much time to adjust, yet the pain would be pleaser full soon

"God I could fuck you for hours, days honey." Natasha grunted out pulling high pitch moans from your throat. She felt your tights try and close around her, as she was getting ready to rip your first orgasm from your body. With a scream you could hold it as you let go around her cock.

Natasha didn't give you much time to recover as she quickly flipped y/n over pushing you ass up in the air getting ready to take y/n from the back

"Mmmm what a good slut you are for me y/n I think we could go again, you can do that for me right darling" Natasha spoke down to you as her cock still was slightly inside your pussy, your hand still restricted above your head, and your face now being pushed into the bed Natasha have you a signal if it got to much, so she could stop.

She felt she gave you enough time to calm down she reached over to grab a vibrator turning it on to hold it onto your clit whole re-entering your pussy again bottoming out real fast. Pounding your cum right back inside you as she pressed the vibrator harder on y/n's clit

Y/n's legs started to shake leading Natasha to slap y/n's ass harshly making them Yelp.

"Come on baby, cum for me" Natasha encourage as y/n was a moaning mess reaching their peak and Natasha was pushing them over as she railed y/n.

Y/n came harshly shaking under Natasha, but the black widow wasn't done, she pulled the vibrator away letting it fall but not once she she stop railing y/n's cunt.

"T-to much nat..." y/n whined

"Come on baby one more" Natasha pushed getting herself off as she worked y/n into overstimulation determined to pull one more orgasm from them. Y/n was trembling as nat slapped her ass a few more times as y/n came so hard with a scream around Natasha's cock she collapsed into the bed, Natasha held her close yet she didn't remove the cock from their pussy. Holding y/n in their arms letting y/n whine but also relax.

"Such a good little slut for me, next time I won't be so easy on you" Natasha whispered into y/n's ear

.

.

.

WOW I WROTE THAT, DAMN anyway enjoy you kinky bitches

[skylarinfinity]

[avengers training new team member with simple mission]

steve : [talking to earpiece] male reader, please confirm your location.

male reader : i'm next to yelena belova, over.

natasha : [sigh] yelena, confirm your location.

yelena : i though male reader already told you that i next to him?

tony : [been listening to this conversation and turn to natasha] aren't your sister supposed to be one of the best spy out there?

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy @loving-wanda-in-every-universe

[cheemscakecat]

Refrigeration

A little fanfic about BLU Spy.

TW: BLU gets confronted about the pictures he took. And why he shouldn’t have been so causal about showing them to Scout

When becoming a mercenary, one had to prepare for the worst case scenarios. Failure, torture, death… death of a loved one. All things that Spy had spent years preparing and accounting for. But RED team still found ways to push the envelope.

It all started with the 1st battle against the nearly identical looking RED team after his nemesis stole their intelligence. And the pictures. Spy kicked himself for falling for the Scout disguise and showing the enemy Spy the pictures. Pictures of said Spy and the BLU Scout’s mother having sexual congress.

BLU Scout was far too outgoing, too trusting. And very annoying, once he got tired of Spy trying to give him a taste of reality. So, those photographs of his two-faced mother were indispensable. The perfect way to wise him up, and now they were gone, wasted. Soldier stupidly shot him, his own teammate in an attempt to out the RED.

The team’s intelligence? Taken by RED Spy. The evidence of Scout’s mother acting treacherously? Most likely destroyed, and now Spy had no recourse for proving the truth to the boy. And of course, the whole team was angry about a singular Spy crippling them and getting away.

But he could use that anger to his advantage. It didn’t take much convincing to get Pyro and Demoman on his side. For one thing, they had been the last two killed in battle, distracted when RED bolted out of base, Scout struggling to catch up. For another, Scout was Pyro’s best and only friend. If anyone would want payback for that Spy outrunning him, it would be the dragon.

—————————

They caught the RED Spy off guard. Together, Demoman’s bombs and Pyro’s fire incapacitated him. Spy watched his RED doppelgänger writhe with a satisfied smirk. Then he noticed the earpiece, which was now visible because fire had burnt a small hole in the Spy’s mask. He grunted an angry, desperate “NO!” as Jacques snatched the device. Demoman pressed his foot down on the RED’s belly to keep him from making any surprise attacks.

Spy heard a voice on the other end and slid the tiny microphone into his own ear, being careful not to reveal his face as he pulled up the mask. “Ay! I’m talking to you ******* , pick up!” It was RED Scout. Spy smugly turned towards his doppelgänger. “Alright! I’m not deaf! Just had to deal with those ****ed BLUs for a moment.” RED Spy gaped and wordlessly mouthed the word “No”.

Good. Now he knew how it felt. Even Pyro seemed to be holding back a hearty laugh. “We’ll hurry up and get to the control room. I ain’t waiting all day.” The RED -thoroughly beaten and helpless- struggled to free himself like he wasn’t going to respawn anyway. How stupid. “Don’t! You can’t-“ He pleaded. Spy merely aimed the revolver at his forehead and pulled the trigger.

He found the RED Scout slouching about near the control room. “Took ya long enough! Thought’ ya planned ahead!” Spy frowned. “It’s not my fault! Those BLUs were paranoid as Hell.” RED pursed his lips and glared like a spoiled child. “Whateva. I bet they’re halfway to the intel by now. We gotta get movin!” Spy tilted his head and jerked it towards the hallway.

Scout blinked at him incredulously. “Don’t change your plan now! Ya said you wanted to lead!” Curse that lousy RED Spy, he planned ahead. “I was just making sure you remembered. Keep your voice down boy, they could be here any minute.” Spy hissed urgently, pretending to be concerned. The Scout stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Well come on! You’re the impatient one.” He urged. The Scout put his hands in his pockets and meandered forward,

Spy didn’t like having the enemy behind him. It was supposed to be the other way around. He’d have to come up with a good reason to pull out his revolver. Maybe pretending a member of his team was-

Something heavy hit him square in the back of the head. His RED Spy disguise disappeared. **** it! He caught himself haphazardly before his head could hit the floor. Scout was just snapping out of his shock when he turned to face him. “I KNEW IT!” He roared. Jacques glared up at him and lunged with his knife, but the Scout easily dodged. He got smacked upside the head again with a red baseball bat. Scout must have pulled it out of his bag with an absurd lack of sound.

Before long the relentless RED Scout had pummeled Spy with the bat until he was unable to move. He was still awake though, which meant he could be taunted. Scout squatted down with a satisfied goonish grin. “Hard to stab a guy in the back when he’s beatin your fricken head in, huh?” Spy refused to respond to the man-child.

RED cocked his head to the side and sneered with disgust. “Our Spy’s a lotta things, but an idiot ain’t one of ‘um. Like Hell he’d call me boy.” Spy cursed himself in his head. Of course they didn’t call him boy, he had a bad attitude the size of Texas! How could he forget…

“Ah! Scout! Can you refrain from killing that Spy, please?” No. Not him! Spy looked on in horror as the RED Medic strode towards them, holding some strange device. The Scout shuffled in confusion, his shoulders tensing. Even the REDs fear him. “Thank you! I have a vunderful new machine I’d like to try.” “Oh! Uh, you wanna use this Spy?” The Scout relaxed, realizing he wasn’t the target.

“Yes! It’s so lucky I caught you like this, we usually kill the BLU team so fast..” Spy tried not to panic, especially since the mad Medic was staring. “Uh… Yeah man. Do what’cha want.” From his tone, Spy could tell that Scout was just as surprised as him. No, no NO! “I’ll leave ya to it then, doc. I gotta go fight n… all that.” The excuse fell on deaf ears, for the Medic was too busy with his device and bone saw to listen. Spy watched hopelessly as the enemy Scout left him alone with the freak.

——————

Decapitation. That’s what the Medic went with. Under normal circumstances it would have been fine. Spy would merely die and respawn back at BLU Base. But RED Medic was anything but normal. And that’s why he was still alive, hooked up to the device and being carried around like a trophy. Spy forced himself to keep a poker face, to try to conceal his fear. He didn’t want to give the Medic any sick kicks or new ideas. Whistling, the Medic trotted into RED’s respawn room with him. The other teammates froze in surprise.

There were rumors about this Medic. Rumors that were not unreasonable. They knew for sure that he experimented on his own team, replacing vital organs with the animal equivalent. There was much speculation about what such a mad-man was capable of, what his end goal could possibly be, and how insane he was. But one of the worst rumors was that he was cannibal. It made sense, what else could he be doing with the discarded organs? On second thought, Spy didn’t want to know.

So he wasn't really surprised when the RED team spoke cautiously with the mad-man. “What’cha got there, Doc?” The Engineer asked. He spoke with the cadence of a mother or school teacher. With underlying unease, of course. The Medic shifted in excitement and held him out further, so they could see.

“I’ve designed a machine to keep heads alive! There’s a vindow of opportunity after the spine is severed, and I wanted to put it to use! Say something!” He shook Jacques’ head like a toddler with a Christmas present, then paused to let him speak. It was risky, but he knew exactly what to say. In French, he viciously insulted Germany; their food, their leadership, and their women. A short but appropriate phrase he learned back in occupied France.

The RED Medic laughed loudly until he was nearly out of breath. “Oho! Ho-ho, that is true!” He UNDERSTOOD?!

———————-

Nicotine was the only tool getting Jacques through the stress of what was happening. Thankfully, the RED Medic provided him with a steady supply of bitter, cheap American cigarettes. It was cold in the fridge. He felt light in a very uncomfortable way; like a balloon that a child failed to hold onto, rising into the sky with the knowledge that he’d pop from the air pressure. He missed his hands, and he missed his heartbeat, and he missed the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He missed eating and he missed warmth.

He didn’t hate all Germans, but he sure hated this one. He liked the BLU Medic well enough, and looked up to the escaped artists and filmmakers who made it to Hollywood during the war. But he hated RED Medic and his stupid feral grin.

Over the next few days, Spy heard incomprehensible voices through the fridge walls. He could discern the number of people in the room, but never what they were saying. RED Medic was always chortling and talking to his birds. This time, he could tell that the Medic had left the room, leaving him with one other enemy teammate. It turned out to be the RED Spy.

It was an embarrassing situation, being a disembodied head in a fridge and all. But the RED surprisingly didn’t taunt him or gloat about the situation. It actually looked like he didn’t know what to say.

But Jacques knew that RED had a score to settle with him. He had gotten pictures of him and the youngest BLU Teammate’s mama having intercourse. No Spy or man in general would take that invasion of privacy lightly. RED was probably there to interrogate or torture him, since he hadn’t come to gloat.

BLU prepared himself for whatever might come next, strengthening his poker face and praying that the RED would accidentally detach the battery on the device under his neck. He may just be put out of his misery.

RED Spy sighed in frustration and looked away. He paused, still bent down with the fridge door open. Evidently being a decapitated head wasn’t enough punishment for what had happened. Wait. My mask. What if he’s here to take my mask? Jacque himself had only bothered to take the dirtier pictures to see if he could get a picture of RED maskless. But he’d been planning to give it to the Administrator, and had no idea who RED might reveal his identity to. Or who in his family would be in danger.

He tried not to balk at the idea. “Look” RED started. He sounded tired. “We both know what you did.” Spy forced a poker face, hoping he wouldn’t give RED the satisfaction of seeing him fearful. Hoping he wouldn’t slip up. “But it would be childish of me to pitch a fit. You snuck past me fair and square.”

Jacques blinked in surprise, the first reaction he had shown since getting trapped here. He’s not planning revenge? Why? The RED teammate kneeled down closer, frowning grumpily as he did. He stared at his foe with a heavy exhaustion dimming his eyes. This was unexpected.

”You still have more of those pictures, I presume?” “Yes.” He replied without hesitation, feigning confidence. The truth was he might have one or two more of the photographs left, buried under files or tucked away somewhere. But the RED Spy had taken the majority, if not all of the pictures when he stole their intelligence that day. Disguised as poor, naive little Scout.

It was a shame that he’d probably never find another one of those photos, the boy needed to know. He needed to stop trusting his mother with whatever information she knew, so she couldn’t consort with this enemy teammate. But Spy could play the part of someone who still had a collection of evidence, at least long enough to fool RED Spy.

“When we let you go, there won’t be any way to stop you showing him.” The RED Spy sounded almost defeated in addition to exhausted. He looked away, putting his hand over his mouth and letting it fall. When he looked back, his eyes were pleading.

“Can I just make one request?” “What sort of request?” “Don’t show him the pictures of her naked. I saw that you had photographs where she’s clothed, and those will get your point across.” Jacques blinked up at him dully.

“And why should I be so discerning?” You two are the ones going behind the boy’s back for cheap pleasure. RED inhaled and exhaled with a slight shudder. “It doesn’t matter if he hates me. I’m an enemy teammate that he’ll fight regardless. But it matters if he’s estranged from his mother. They’re family.”

Spy felt a burning, deep anger swell in his veins, even without a chest. Family? “Oh, so she can keep mining his naive *** for information? So she can keep lying to him and playing with you? Please, don’t make her sound so innocent.” RED Spy glared at him suddenly, before his expression softened and he looked away. He sighed softly.

“She’s not a double agent. For all you know, I could be lying to her.” Jacques hadn’t considered that. “Look, it’s going to be hard enough when he confronts her over the clean pictures. She’s not the type who’d document her bedroom activities.” Red swallowed. “It’ll distract her, make her stumble over her words thinking about her son seeing things he was never meant to. I’m sure the pictures are an issue she’d like to discuss calmly with him.”

Spy though for a moment. He really didn’t know how guilty Scout’s mother was, or how the real boy would react. But now he knew that RED Spy cared about it. He could take advantage of that, but something held him back. The way the enemy Spy talked and his body language reminded him of something. He couldn’t place it, even with the gnawing familiarity.

But more than that his thoughts drifted to his own mother, and what would happen if there were dirty pictures of her. If he were young, and hormonal and stupid. If some creep showed him pictures of her private business, blaming her for a crime she didn’t commit.

Mrs, Murneau was a cheerful, upbeat civilian who kept her private matters private. And it would be hellish to put her through something like this. To have her son barge in with 500 questions and a file folder of disturbing content, questioning her integrity. And he could picture her horror and difficulty in defending her name, even if she was innocent. He felt a sinking pang of guilt.

If RED Spy wasn’t lying, Scout’s mother was the same way. In fact, Scout might have gotten his overly friendly and trustful personality from her.

“That is something to consider..” RED Spy stared. “Alright. I’ll sort through and find the clean ones. You have my word.” The RED sighed with relief, relaxing his tense shoulders. He’d been expecting his rival to remain unyielding.

“Thank you.” This time when he looked away, it was more casual. “Before I go, would you care for a cigarette?” “You keep a cyanide handy?” “Thankfully, there’s no need. The others are ironing out the details with Medic, but you should respawn sometime this evening.” He stared in shock. They were going to set him free? He’d get his body back! He’d finally be back at BLU base and away from that freak doctor!

Jacques tried hard to conceal his excitement and remain somewhat professional. “If you wouldn’t mind, then.” RED pulled the nasty, cheap cigarette out from between BLU’s teeth and replaced it with one of his better quality ones, lighting it before he closed the fridge door. He savored that good cigarette, which wasn’t the same brand he preferred but tasted delicious and smooth. It was sweeter and lighter in flavor than the ones he bought, which meant the hidden cyanide would stand out less.

——————-

When he spawned back at base, the rest of the team was caught off guard. Apparently he’d been gone for four days, but everyone assumed that he’d taken vacation time. It was his habit as a Spy not to announce his days off ahead of time, so he couldn’t be mad at them for the assumption. When he told them that that RED Medic had decapitated him and kept his head alive, they were horrified.

BLU Medic, who unfortunately looked almost identical to RED, was gibbering and tutting like a hen whose babies jumped in a puddle, and examining him already. Jacques repressed the urge to fight the poor Medic as he got up in his face looking for injuries. He’s only doing his job. It’s not his fault the freak has the same face as him.

The last thing he wanted was to be examined by another German, and that feeling boiled over when the doctor unexpectedly pulled up part of his mask. Before he could think, Spy found himself violently pushing Dr Ludwig and tugging his mask back into place. There was a very awkward hush as Scout and Pyro helped the doctor to his feet.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.” Still shaken by having more gloved hands on his neck, Spy could only nod curtly. Fritz couldn’t blame him for being jumpy and lashing out. “What were you checking for?” He asked apprehensively. “Um… Respawn complications on your neck. Or anything that the crazy Medic might have.. left?” He was not terribly surprised when Spy decided to head to bed for the night without a checkup. He wasn't ready.

———————-

after excusing himself to go to bed and rest, Jacques throughly checked for anything wrong with his neck. He’d insisted that Medic leave him be, but had no intention of dying or getting an infection from an unseen wound. Thankfully there was nothing suspicious, which soothed his nerves and the paranoid itch he’d been feeling. Then he was free to appreciate having his body.

He flexed each of his fingers in turn and balled his hands into fists. He put a hand against his chest to feel his own steady heartbeat and breathing. Jacques felt like sprinting through a field of tall grass - no, wheat- actually tulips, tulips and hyacinths. And then he wanted to roll around the warm grass, not that he’d let his team know that dirt didn't bother him. He had an image to uphold.

But here in his room, with its kitchen and amenities, he was free to celebrate.

Spy set a large pot of water to boil and grabbed a hefty serving of frozen cheese stuffed pasta from his fridge. He chopped and fried up some salty ham, and made a really good béchamel sauce with white wine, cheese, and heavy cream.

When his meal was ready, he devoured it like a starved animal and emptied half a bottle of brandy. After about 3 cigarettes and a glass of wine, he finally got into his pajamas and tumbled into bed. And even as someone who preferred to avoid sleep, he was content to curl up in the bed in the safety and comfort of his own room and body.

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

17I for the ask game?

Gotchu! One Spy AU coming right up!

Send in a Number and a Letter!

Down but Not Out

Fabian didn’t mean to be rude by ignoring Acting Director Goldenhoard’s eulogy, but it seemed like he couldn’t pay attention to much of anything these days.

Sitting in a crowd of his co-workers, they all listened to Goldenhoard’s solemn words. Or at least, Fabian tried to. But the candid picture next to his podium, of a handsome Goblin with curly hair and a wry smile, only made it worse. An empty hollowness had filled his chest and refused to leave. Not since he watched his partner, Agent Riz Gukgak, die on his mission not two weeks ago.

As his mission support, he was the agent back at HQ in Riz’s earpiece that always watched his six. Feeding him any information he could to help him complete his mission. Or he was supposed to, but apparently, he was pretty shit at his job since Gukgak was dead with not even a body to recover.

They’d gotten bad intelligence somehow and Fabian hadn’t realized it until Riz was already being ambushed by KVX’s mercs. It had all happened so fast. He had tried to guide Riz through all the chaos of bullets and knives. And he’d almost gotten out too, but he’d failed a saving throw against some kind of bullshit faerie magic.

The last thing Fabian saw before Riz’s hidden camera broke was a ginger-haired pixie hovering over Riz’s prone body. The tiny man had listed off the names of a dozen of SSIS’ currently active agents and then nothing. Black. Fabian burst from his seat in HQ to sprint to their divination unit. Demanding that one of them cast Scry on Gukgak immediately and, when that didn’t work, for someone to rush to his last known location to cast Locate Creature on him.

It had all been in vain. Riz was dead. And if Fabian had been smarter, had realized that they’d been tricked and led into a trap, he’d still be alive.

Fabian wasn’t even supposed to have this job.

Once upon a time, he was a field agent too.

Years ago, he was suspended from going out into the field. A mission on Leviathan gone wrong. The director had expected him to take a six-month sabbatical until he could go through retraining. But he refused to wait that long. He showed up to work every day for a month before the higher-ups cracked. Realizing that he’d be kicking around HQ, annoying the shit out of people if they didn’t give him something to do, the director’s solution was to train him in mission support.

At first, Fabian pushed back against it hard. Being very publicly disallowed from going on any mission was already embarrassing enough. The thought of essentially being demoted to a desk job was even worse. Sure, they assured him that it was only temporary and something to keep his mind sharp. But on his first day of training, he had a sinking feeling that they’d never trust him with another mission ever again.

Nevertheless, Fabian showed up every day to learn how to support an agent best. Of which he did have a few opinions on himself, though he was encouraged to stick to the, ugh, manual. It was a slog and a grind until the day they decided to test out his skills with an actual agent. Pairing him up with a fresh-faced legacy agent, Riz Gukgak. And while his enthusiasm was a bit much at first, the test missions Fabian supported him through went well. A fact that surprised almost everyone, Fabian included, but not Riz.

For whatever reason, he had his full confidence in Fabian’s newfound abilities. He even mentioned that during their celebratory drink after their first successful real mission. Clinking glasses of champagne, Riz had said with a wistful smile that he’d miss Fabian in his ear. You know, once his suspension was up. Fabian found himself agreeing. It would be a shame.

Throughout this experiment of sorts, he’d found that he had a knack for tactics and maneuvers and getting Riz in and out of trouble. He didn’t have to be in the proverbial spotlight. He could get just as much, if not more, satisfaction from guiding Riz to success. Not to mention the fact that Riz had slowly grown on him to the point that when his six months were up.

He almost didn’t want to leave Riz’s fate in the hands of anyone else.

Which is why, when he walked into work on the first day after his suspension, he announced that he’d be staying in mission support as Riz’s partner. And so, the two of them spent the next ten years working together, saving the world one mission at a time.

Until two weeks ago.

Jawbone, the head of mission support, had sent him home early that day and expected him to take a couple of days off. Squeezing his shoulder, Jawbone had told him that losing people never got any easier. And that he should take some time for himself to let out any of the emotions he might’ve been feeling.

Fabian tried to listen to his advice. Most of those days he spent running until he couldn’t run anymore. Or he stared into the rushing waters of the Marigold River trying to force himself to grieve and mourn and do all the things everyone expected him to do. But the emptiness that had found him and wouldn’t let him go since Riz’s death remained.

Because how could he not run Riz’s last moments over and over again in his head, picking out everything he could’ve done better to get him out of there alive? Because how could he not feel like a coward for not being the one to tell Riz’s mother, who had lost his father the same way, of his death? Because how could he continue with his life when the people responsible for Riz’s death still drew breath, their plans, still intact?

Fabian couldn’t mourn or grieve.

Not yet.

“Are you sure about this?”

Agent Adaine Abernant asked from the other side of Fabian’s earpiece as a server offered him a flute of champagne. Only moments after he strolled into the gala hosted in one of the lavish ballrooms in the Red Scale Hotel. A building his target and various others within the conspiracy he and Riz were unravelling, frequented.

Plucking a flute from the tray, he flashed the server a smile before bringing it to his lips to hide the movement of them as he answered, “I’m already in the building, Adaine. It’s a little late to be getting cold feet.”

“Alright, the corridor you want is on the other end of this hall. Near the stage, right side.”

“Perfect.”

Sublime, live jazz music flowed as a lively undercurrent beneath the ambient chatter of the sea of attendees. All decked out in satin gowns and well-pressed suits, he fit right in with the deep red, three-piece tuxedo that he had to pull out of storage. Hopefully, the Disguise Self spell on him masking his missing eye and trading his distinctive silver hair for a more neutral black also made him unrecognizable.

Sure, that ginger pixie, Biz Glitterdew, he later found out, had read off all their active agents. Showing off that he and whoever he worked for knew that SSIS was onto them, but Fabian wasn’t on that list. Not on the list, not on their radar. And he’d prefer to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Clocking all the guards and other security present, he made sure not to look like he was making a direct beeline toward the back door.

“Remind me who I’m supposed to be again?” Fabian mumbled behind his glass again before taking another sip.

“Mr. Iliren Pyrefall,” Adaine answered as if she were reading off of a script. “A young, up-and-coming businessman from Fallinel who is currently on his first trip to mainland Spyre to get over a recent breakup with ‘The One’.”

“That feels targeted but I’m not sure how.”

“Just focus on not getting caught, loverboy.”

It took a bit of shaking off of some cobwebs but Fabian managed to move from group to group making charming small talk before moving on. This used to be one of his favourite parts of a mission. Putting on a new identity and taking it on for a spin on strangers he’d likely never see again. Maybe even get his kisses in, if he had the time. But right now he couldn’t enjoy being Iliren Pyrefall, not when this mission meant so much to him that it had to go well.

By the time he made it to the other end of the ballroom, he had the perfect distraction to hide his intrusion. The hostess of the evening, the ever-saccharine socialite Penelope Everpetal, had stepped on stage to make a toast. Eyeing the inconspicuous door, Fabian took one last swig of his flute before setting it down on a passing server’s tray and making his move. Slipping through the clapping crowd and past unsuspecting guards and the door undetected.

“Excellent, now, on your right there should be a corridor with three doors before the bend…”

Fabian’s footsteps didn’t make a sound on the carpeted floors as Adaine’s posh, calm voice guided him through the winding, lushly decorated halls of the Red Scale Hotel. Soon he found his way down into the bowels of the old building. Descending metal staircases until delicate cream-coloured walls turned to harsh, gritty stone hallways. Lined with rusty pipes and bright white lights.

He didn’t get to make it down the first hall before Adaine piped up once again, a sense of urgency in her voice, “You’ve got company. One heading toward you fast with two right behind him.”

“Oh, but I didn’t even put the kettle on,” Fabian whispered as he put on a pout and got into position. His back pressed up against the wall, lying in wait for his moment as he readied his arquebus. “What kind of host am I?”

“Stop being cheeky. First one’s coming around the corner… now!”

As soon as the first suited guard turned the corner, Fabian socked him in the face with the butt of his arquebus. Taking hold of his shoulder, he pressed the barrel into the guard’s stomach and fired two shots into him before shoving his body into a second guard. The two of them tumbled to the ground in a heap. Leaving the third to pull out her own firearm. But not fast enough. Bang! Bang! Bang! Fabian had three bullets lodged in her chest before she pulled her trigger.

“Guard on your six!” Adaine yelled just in time for Fabian to whip around to see the second guard up on their knees. having shoved the first guard’s body off of him, he now had his arquebus pointed at him.

The sharp, piercing sting of a bullet hitting his side was soon engulfed by adrenaline as Fabian dropped his gun. Lunging at that guard. His second shot hit the ceiling as Fabian grabbed the hand holding the arquebus, shoving it to the sky. Before ramming the guard’s back into one of the walls. The crack of bone against stone rung out into the cavernous hall. Followed by their grunts and the sound of struggle as Fabian wrestled the arquebus out of the guard’s hands. Throwing it to the side, he stomped his heel into his foot and kneed him in the stomach before knocking him out with one good punch across the jaw.

With the final guard’s body slumped against the wall, Fabian picked up his discarded arquebus, readjusted his suit, and did a little bow as Adaine said, “Well done.”

Taking a deep breath that hurt just a bit, he said, “Thank you. Where to from here?”

“The room you’re looking for shouldn’t be too far. Take a left and then a right at the first junction and then the third door on the right should be the one.” Heeding Adaine’s directions, Fabian left this scene of carnage to head toward his target. The heels of his dress shoes clicked and echoed as he moved through the tunnel-like halls with far more haste than before. As he counted one, two, three doors on the right, and approached it, Adaine warned him. “I’m getting a reading that there’s only one tiny creature in there. It should be him, but still. Be careful, Seacaster.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Your field record would beg to differ.”

Unable to hide a smirk, it grew on his lips as he tried to steady himself. The only thing that separated him and the bastard who had killed his agent was this door. Fabian had one shot at this. He couldn’t fuck it up. One last deep breath.

For Riz.

Bursting into a dark room filled with crystals and computers with one solid kick to the door, it didn’t take a second before his eyes found Biz Glitterdew. His tiny, pixie wings glowed in tandem with the screens and crystal power sources yet still stood out against them. Once they locked eyes, Biz didn’t immediately go to attack him. Instead, he reached for a phone-like crystal on his desk. Probably trying to call for backup.

Unfortunately for Biz, Adaine was busy tampering with the Red Scale Hotel’s communication lines to give Fabian as much time as he needed.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Mr. Glitterdew,” Fabian said as a look of horror that dawned on Biz’s pale, little face. Filling Fabian with so much schadenfreude that he was sure that his smirk turned a little wild. His resemblance to his father must’ve been oh so obvious now. “I do believe this is a private conversation.”

Now see, Fabian had had a whole speech in his head that he’d tell Biz while holding him at gunpoint. About how he should’ve known how to pick his kills better. How it’s tragic for him that he’s the only top agent whom he didn’t know about. One line after another to show Biz how badly he fucked up.

But he didn’t get that far.

Didn’t even pull out his arquebus.

No, he went a bit… nuts.

One moment he was in the doorway staring Biz down and the next he had Biz’s head in his hands and was smashing it into the closest keyboard. Typing out who knows what into the computer. Admittedly, it wasn’t Fabian’s finest work. Not enough finesse as he had usually liked to apply during his missions. But Adaine certainly wasn’t complaining about it.

There was a moment, however, when he had a split-second regret about not being more careful. Not with Biz’s head, no. Around these machines. Sure, he could disarm a bomb or operate his rig back at HQ well enough, but he’d never been the most techy man in the world. He’s pretty sure though that crystals are not supposed to emit a large, blinding burst of light and electricity.

It mustn’t be good, seeing as he heard scream out a strangled, “NO!”

Well and properly blinded by that exploding crystal, Fabian couldn’t see a thing, but he could feel Biz get yanked out of his hands. His heart leapt in fear for a moment, terrified that the bastard was about to slip through his fingers. Instead of the sound of frantically fluttering wings though, an audible thump of someone thrown to the ground hit his ears.

All before an all too familiar voice, one that Fabian thought he’d never hear again, rang out in a barking tone. “I’m gonna give you twenty full seconds to tell me what you did with those women, Glitterdew. Or else I’m gonna blow your fucking head off.”

Fabian frenziedly whipped around toward that voice, cautious hope building in his chest. And though his vision hadn’t fully returned to him yet, what had come back was enough. Enough for him to see the silhouette of Riz Gukgak pinning Biz to the ground. Enough for tears to start pricking his eyes and for Adaine to gasp in his ears. Slowly, the details of the scene came in as well.

Riz’s wild, greenblack curls fell in his face, his lips were pulled back bear his sharp teeth, his nice, white dress shirt was rumbled and he had his gun pressed to Biz’s forehead. Fabian almost couldn’t process it all. A thousand different thoughts and emotions overwhelmed him at once. Disbelief, heaps of joy and grief in equal measure, anger and confusion, and a dash of desire for the hell of it.

Leaving him stunned, mouth agape, until he heard Adaine begrudgingly grumble in his ear. “You should keep him alive long enough for someone to cast detect thoughts on him. Or at least put him in a zone of truth to get more intelligence out of him. Fabian!”

That last call of his name sent him into action. He dove to intercept Riz’s point-blank shot to Biz’s head seconds before he pulled the trigger. Taking his smaller hand in his, he lifted his jet-black arquebus to the ceiling and felt the bullet destined for Biz’s brain fly into the stone above. Riz squirmed and hissed in Fabain’s hold, still focused on intimidating Biz.

It took Fabian grabbing his chin and forcing Riz to look at him to get him to concentrate on him instead. And when Riz’s pupils didn’t dilate upon seeing his face, Fabian said in the voice he used over his mic, “You can’t kill him. Not yet, Gukgak. Stand down.”

Almost all at once, all of Riz’s ferality melted away. His slitted pupils widened far past their usual dilation, his hackles lowered, and his toothy sneer turned into a gentle expression of shock. “Fabian?”

There was no way he could hide the smile growing on his face, so instead he nodded his head over a delirious Biz. “You can knock him out if you want.”

“Oh, I—” Riz turned back to target, some of that ferality returning, and smacked him with the butt of his arquebus and sent Biz into unconsciousness. “—do.”

A few moments of silence passed after that. Their twin breaths and the hum of the surrounding technology were the only sounds in the room. They sat there, Riz partially in Fabian’s lap, Fabian’s hand still on his chin, staring at each other.

It wasn’t broken until Adaine spoke up after a long while. “Fabian? I’m sending Agents Faeth and Thistlespring down to collect Biz,” There was a moment of hesitation in her voice before she added. “And tell Gukgak that it’s good to have him back.”

Fabian couldn’t help but chuckle and give a little salute. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Who’s on the line?” Riz asked, his face scrunched up in confusion and want of inclusion. Rolling his eyes, Fabian fished his earpiece out and held it up to Riz’s. His face brightened at the sound of Adaine’s voice. “Abernant! It’s good to hear from you too.”

As Riz moved to take the earpiece from Fabian’s hands to do the work of holding it to his ear, Fabian’s heart dropped at the sight of his hand. No, hands. They’re bleeding. “What the hell happened, Gukgak?”

“I had to dig my way through a crystal to get to the wiring,” Riz answered way too nonchalantly. With a barely a glance at the offending wounds and a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m fine, though. I still can complete this mission.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Riz waved him off as he told Adaine he’d talk to her later before turning back to him with a smile. “I’m a little tired, a lot beat up, and super stir-crazy, but fine. It’s nice to see you out in the field again and it’s nice to have some backup but—”

“I thought you were dead,” Fabian said because he couldn’t think of a better way to put it. He got Riz’s attention though.

Any and all frivolity and levity in Riz’s face and voice left him in an instant as he stared up at Fabian with wide, confused eyes. “What?”

“Everyone thought you were dead. We couldn’t Scry on you. And Locate Creature always came up empty. When we sent agents to retrieve your body there was nothing to find except for bloodstains.” All of Fabian’s grief threatened to close his throat as tears began to run down his cheeks, but he pushed through it. His voice cracking as he tried to hold it all together. “I thought you were dead and that it was my fault. That I wasn’t—that I let you…”

Riz Gukgak was a harsh guy. Sharp cheekbones, keen, perceptive eyes, rough manners, and a no-nonsense attitude when on the job. Most days the only soft thing about him was his curls; he usually hid those underneath a hat. But at Fabian’s words, he softened. Forgetting about any clues or mission objectives, he softened. Even after being beaten black and blue, stuck in a crystal for days on end, and trying desperately to dig himself out, he softened.

“Oh, Fabian.” He said, his voice, soft, barely above a whisper. His curls bounced as he shook his head and brought Fabian’s far larger form to his chest and held him there. Letting Fabian hear the steady beating of his heart. He was alive. Riz was alive. Fabian wrapped his arms around him and hugged him back oh so tight.

In that moment, something that had been broken was suddenly mended, the hollow feeling in Fabian’s chest finally dispersing, and the world was right again.

I think my niche within this fandom is writing fabriz fics where one of them saves the other and then they hug so sweetly... and I'm not mad about it.

I hope you like it, Indigo!

[inkareds]

can you do a cass cain x female reader story?

Rest Your Weary Eyes Cassandra Cain

nav // dc m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 1k (a shortie) ✧.* genre: Fluff ✧.* warnings: The reader is female, that's it

After a long night, Cassandra just wants to be in the arms of the woman she loves

Jesus christ this was requested last year I am so fucking sorry I had like 0 ideas for her so I'm really sorry if she's a bit ooc (also I'm working on everyone's requests starting from the oldest one 💀)

“Black Bat watch your six!” Cass quickly turned around at the sound of Barbara in her earpiece. 

Unfortunately, she didn’t turn quickly enough as the moment she did turn around, the assassin had already lunged towards her. Being around thrice her size, the assassin barrelled towards her and shoved her entire body towards a brick wall. 

Cass groaned as he landed a punch to her abdomen, disoriented from the crash the assassin was quick to land a few more hits to her. Though once she did regain her focus, her eyes saw opportunity after opportunity within the assassin’s hold against her. Making use of his weak points, she efficiently took him down. 

Finally, back on her own two feet, Barbara spoke again. 

“There’s four more coming your way.” Cass sighed. 

“This is going to be a long night.” She muttered under her breath. 

~

Your tired eyes tried their best to stay awake as you glared at the document in front of you. There were barely any words on the screen, yet you have to finish this four thousand-word essay by the end of the week. A task, at this point, you felt was impossible to do. You shook your head. 

“I can do this.” You muttered to yourself as you began to type. 

After the first few paragraph and sips of your favourite tea, you finally got your groove for writing back. The words came somewhat easily to you as you progressed into the essay. 

In fact, you were so focused you didn’t hear the loud thump on the outside of your fire escape. Nor the sound of the window opening. All you saw was a black shadow in the shape of a bat behind you from the reflection of your computer. Causing you to scream out. 

Cass immediately took off her mask and put both her hands up. 

“It’s me! It’s me!” 

Realising now that this was Cassandra Cain, your longtime girlfriend, you let out a loud sigh. 

“Oh my fucking god! Why’d you gotta scare me like that?! I know you’re like trained to be quiet or something! But Jesus, I think you shaved off four years off my life.” You chuckled holding your chest as you heaved, still panicked. 

Though, after seeing Cass’ reaction to your statement, you sterned yourself. There was a tired tight-lipped smile on your beautiful girlfriend’s expression. Your brows furrowed together as you looked across her body. 

With her standing up and you still sat down on your chair, you could get a good look at her costume. Muck, dirt, and blood greased the surface of her suit. Sweat stuck to the skin of her face and her hair was much greasier than usual after a night of patrolling. Not to mention how tired she actually looked. Her eyes dropped and it would seem that she was begging for a shower. 

You sighed and shook your head. Cass was just standing there, her chest rising and falling at the deep breaths she was taking to try and calm her quick heartbeat from the tough patrol she just went through. She came here to just see you. Spy on you for a little bit, as creepy as that sounds, she just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

Today’s patrol made her remember how dangerous of a place Gotham could be. She needed to know that you were safe and sound. What she didn’t expect was for her body to not listen to what her brain wanted and snuck into your room. 

But now that she was actually in your room, in front of you, she didn’t really know what to do. 

“Go shower, my love. I’ll get some of your clothes that you left here then we can rest together.” 

At your response, she smiled before making her way towards the bathroom. 

Though the two of you didn’t live together, it was almost like your apartment was her second home. Next to your towel was a grey towel just for her. Next to your toothbrush was her own. She even had her face wash and skincare right next to yours. She smiled looking around the bathroom, it was such a simple space. 

Something a lot of people overlook, but it was an important part of a home. It was almost like you in that regard, though she chuckled over her mind comparing you to a bathroom. 

You were far more than that. But it was true. You weren’t a vigilante, you weren’t a hero, you were just a normal civilian student going by her daily life. You were by no means special in the grand scheme of things and you could be overlooked by many things in life. 

But by her? By Cassandra Cain trained assassin and Black Bat? You were everything. You were one of the most important things in her life. And seeing her life slowly merge into yours in the shape of her belongings slowly making a home in your home? That caused her heart to swell. 

So much that she couldn’t help but take a quick hot shower so she could cuddle with you on your bed. 

When she finished her shower, you were already in bed ready to welcome her. 

Cass wordlessly shuffled to your bed and wrapped her hands around your torso as she lay on her side. Her face buried deep in the crook of your neck. You chuckled at her touchiness, who would’ve thought one of the genuinely most terrifying vigilantes in Gotham was such a cuddle bug? 

As you kissed the top of her head you whispered. 

“Good night Cass.”

Cass hummed back. 

“Good night beautiful.” 

At the comfortable weight of your love safe and sound in your arms. Her somewhat still wet hair against your hands, you felt yourself drifting into a deep sleep. Though not before you heard Cass mumble. 

“Thank you.” 

Leaving you to sleep with a wide smile, knowing tomorrow morning you’d actually be able to have a conversation with the woman you loved. Now, though, now, you’d both rest. 

[lunathebee]

[sniper!fem!reader x villain!Namor]

"Target locked, waiting for the command to shoot. Over" Y/n shifted the riffle a bit to make herself lie down more comfortably, every cell in her body screaming, saying "MOVE! MOVE!". 

But Y/n ignored them all, not now, not when she can see so clearly that little head moving , just right in the middle of the cross, the origin of her pain—no, more like the world's pain.

"Are you sure you got him? Over" Y/n's leader spoke into the earpiece, making her goarn in frustration; how could he doubt her like that? Sure he is her leader, but a leader to the only female in the best sniper group. Y/n sure if she were a man, she would get ordered to pull the trigger now.

"With all due respect, sir, I think you're making this thing longer than it should be. Over" 

"Namor is a dangerous individual; we need to calculate his every move. Now, I'm asking you again, are you sure you got him? Over" The voice slowly died down, leaving a buzzing noise in Y/n's earpiece.

She still has her eyes glued to the rifle scope. It's scary how when it comes to work, Y/n turn into this dangerous woman, "Positive. Over."

"On my command. Over"

Y/n waits for the tiniest noise from the earpiece, her finger itching to pull the trigger. She can feel the sweat forming now, making her hair stick to the back of her neck. Suddenly, a group of blue people swarmed in, pushing Namor aside in chaos.

Too shocked by the incident, Y/n looks away from the rifle scope to see what has happened.

"Damn it! You should tell me to shoot earlier; we might lose him now" She grunted into the earpiece, looking back into the rifle scope and aiming in different direction, hoping to see the guy she so desperately wanted to kill. But instead of a hundred faces, she is met with only one, inching too close for her liking.

"What do we have here? A little mouse spying?"

[idek-anymore-what-the-heck]

Whumpril Prompt #9

Self Doubt

TW: self doubt, anxiety

Henry knows he’s not very good. Heck, he can barely do it. So why on earth would the team choose him to spy??

He keeps asking himself that question as he dons his black clothing and gear. As he straps on his utility belt, slips on his sneakers (pun intended), and connects his earpiece.

He wouldn’t dare voice his concerns to the team; they would either agree with him and bring him back in (which was the last thing he wanted- he had been hoping for this chance for years), or they would just reprimand him for not being brave enough. No, he had to do this. He just knew he wasn’t the right one.

His heart was pounding as he drove to the place he was supposed to scope out. He carefully chose a spot far enough away so as not to arouse suspicion, but also close enough to run to if something goes wrong. He gets out and locks it from the door so it doesn’t honk when he uses the keys, and he slips around to the back of the building.

Sweat beaded as be found a locked door, and searched through his belt for his lock picking set. He got it unlocked within seconds, which must mean it was really terrible lock.

His hands trembled as he slunk through the building, taking deliberate steps to avoid the creaky floorboards. No one should be this nervous when spying!!

After what felt like ages, Henry finally made it to the room that he was to search. Anything out of the ordinary he was supposed to take, although that was a little hard, since the whole room was not ordinary at all. There were creepy dolls hanging from the ceiling, terrible drawings all over the walls, and small collections of dead bugs and rocks in all the odd corners of the room.

Suddenly he heard a creak. Henry dove into the closet, making sure to replace anything he had touched, and curled up in the corner, choosing his place perfectly so he could see the intruder.

****

Hours later, Henry was back at base feeling completely and utterly relieved. He can’t believe he just did that. His teammates were all cheering him, asking him to recount the story.

“Well, I saw the guy, and I kinda freaked out, so I started making some weird noises, and the guy freaked out too. I mean, that room was terrifying.”

They all laughed, and the atmosphere in the room was nice.

The leader took a team member out to talk with him.

“Did you watch the security footage of Henry while he worked?” The leader asked.

“Yeah, I did.” Team member sucked in a breath. “That was some of the downright best spying we have ever seen in the years of this team.”

“I agree,” leader nodded. “We just gotta figure out a way to get Henry to believe us.

(Sorry there’s not actually very much whump in this one, I actually don’t think my brain is working anymore)

[chaosandcrimson]

no way is that KERIME SAKARYA.. they’re a 26-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being CALCULATING & DECEPTIVE but there are some people who have seen them being CONVIVIAL & ORGANISED. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of a disembodied voice giving directions into an earpiece, always having back up plans for your back up plans, and following in the footsteps of your mother, but that could just be because they’re considered the KNOWLEDGE BROKER around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some She had the envelope, where you think she got it from? Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

OVERVIEW

Name: Kerime Azra Sakarya

Nickname(s): Keri

DOB: May 9, 2098

Age: 26

FC: Hande Erçel

Height: 5'9"

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: Owner of Hole In The Firewall / Information Broker

Relationship Status: Single (Closed)

[+] easy-going, convivial, organised [–] calculating, deceptive, venal

BIOGRAPHY

tw: death

Kerime was born the second out of three children to parents whose lives were not at all what they seemed. Her family moved to the USA when she was still young and she does not remember much about her life before then.

Unlike their older brother, Aslan, they grew up into an ordinary teenager who lived a very ordinary life. Did they have an inkling that things in their family were not what they seemed? Sure. They wouldn't be nearly as smart as they thought they were if they didn't. But they also didn't really care to find out the truth.

One thing that was not ordinary about Kerime was her eidetic memory. Her ability to recall things perfectly without even having to try, combined with being generally bright, made school almost too easy for her. She did very well, but she was a nightmare for her teachers because not only did she not have to put any effort in, she could point out any time that they contradicted themselves.

As a result, they frequently got kicked out of class, were sent to the principal's office, and received detention. They approached it all with a smile on their face. They had never seen the point in taking anything too seriously.

During her senior year of high school, her best friend died in an accident while filming herself doing a crazy stunt. She had been warned that it was dangerous but had still acted recklessly. It served as a painful wake up call for Kerime that there were some things in life that you did have to take seriously.

They joined their brother in Dallas-Fort Worth after graduating from high school. Unlike in the past, they decided not to play ignorant, arriving armed with a number of arguments as to why they would be a valuable asset to his business.

She started by helping with intel gathering and serving as a form of mission control when he was out on a job. Over time, as she grew more confident in her skills and developed her own connections, she started expanding her side of the business—branching out into money laundering and information brokering.

They gained a reputation for being the person that you go to when you want information on someone because they seem to know at least something about everyone. To quote Burn Notice: "Whether you're a coke dealer, a thief, an arms dealer, or a spy, you need someone to clean your money, which makes a good money launderer the closest thing you can get to a Yellow Pages for criminals."

Eventually, she opened Hole in the Firewall. It serves as a front for her other businesses, but she does genuinely care about her patrons there, as well as her staff. She is not in the Skyport Mafia, but she has clients among their ranks and pays a protection tax to them in the form of services rendered.

In spite of their ties to the criminal underworld, they have a very lighthearted demeanour, are often quick to laugh, and still don't seem to take themselves too seriously. However, that doesn't mean that other people shouldn't take them seriously. They are dangerous and can flip on a dime when necessary.

MISC

She has a cybernetic enhancement that overlays a custom HUD over her field of vision. It can be connected to other devices, allowing her to extract and review information from them while going about her day-to-day business.

[actualbird]

SSR Dark Ripple is one hell of a story filled with tension, drama, intrigue, passion etc etc and i adore it. but then i was chatting with @samsspambox they were like "hey where was aaron during this card? aaron is probably up in luke's communicator" and thats the best thing ever cuz 1) it makes sense because aaron is luke's partner for NSB missions and 2) it makes the entire story of SSR Dark Ripple like, so much funnier

[BEGINNING SCENE IN THE BANQUET HALL]

aaron, in luke's earpiece comms: uh oh buddy, change of plans

luke, replying via morse code or some shit, dont think too much about the logistics: what? why

aaron: we've got a code rose

luke: WHAT? SHE'S HERE??

aaron: 4 o'clock, bright's chatting up your bae

luke: im sorry, BAE?

aaron: what, do you kids not say bae anymore? kids used to love saying bae. anyway, bright's bringing her over right now, you miiiiiiight wanna make it clear shes not to be played with

//luke then commences those extremely possessive raven displays in PUBLIC BANQUET HALL

aaron: WOW you kinda went all out there huh

luke: BE. QUIET.

and actually like......remember when aaron-as-sphynx outright told mc that he loved dramatic spy flicks and would enjoy writing a dramatic spy flick-esque story? given that, aaron couldve WRITTEN luke's raven cover persona for this mission altogether

[BEFORE THE MISSION EVEN BEGAN, PREPPING FOR THE OPERATION AND LUKE IS SQUINTING AT THE CHARACTER BRIEF PDF AARON JUST SENT HIM]

luke: why does raven need to be a playboy?? that has nothing to do with establishing more trust with bright

aaron: god, it's called flavor text, you uncultured idiot

[solemn-siren]

Deception - villain!Huntedskelly drabble

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what possessed me to write this.

I guess I just felt like it?

I also decided to write a more fight oriented story to practice for upcoming stuff and since I recently watched the bad guys, I decided to go for a spy AU to not only balance out Siren’s powers but because.. why not.

“The golden dolphin is right here in this room. Do you copy, Agent Amulet?”

“Copy.” Was my answer as I descended into the dark room. Agent Viper had already disabled the traps that were placed in the room, and hacked the security system down. Even if by a miracle one was working, they would only see the shadows of a humanoid shape with two pairs of cat ears on their head, descending down into the hall that had our target.

“And how is the distraction going, Agent King?” Nephya, our digital assistant and our leader, asked, her soft calm voice dancing through my ear via an earpiece. I’ve known both Agent Viper and Agent Storm even before the whole spy mission thing, and we made one epic trio.

Agent Viper, or Kenpo, was our hacker. He was our safety net, although a kind of safety net you throw first. He made sure all our plan went smoothly, by shutting down camera after camera, altering data, and being our eyes. There was nothing that could hide from him and his snake like eyes.

Then there was Agent King, or Storm, who was not only our charisma master, but for missions where distraction isn’t needed, he was my partner in crime, and trust was placed in us. He could pull off various disguises, stay undetected and when the stakes are high, mentally mess with the mind to keep them off my trail. His purple gaze was calming to the ally, but haunting to the villain.

And then there was me. The action lady, the daredevil, Agent Amulet. But all I’m doing is the fancy, action focused stuff in an environment altered to the best condition in the background by Viper and King. They’re the ones who deserve the recognition, I’m the person they see when the golden dolphin is stolen.

“Oh wonderful.” Storm answered as I landed inside the room, pulling down the purple tinted goggles over my eyes. With a single button press on the side, the purple gradually transitioned to a lime green, and the room became clear as day.

In front of my eyes, meters away on a pedestal, stood the golden dolphin, a shimmering gold statue in the shape of a dolphin that was famous for being the top target of criminals and spies alike, every one failing to steal the valuable treasure. We were going to be the first to successfully steal it, and we would be famous for it.

“Oh imagine the riches when we sell it to the black market!” Nephya beamed as I silently dashed through the trap less room to the dolphin. Picking it up, it felt like a dream come true. Immediately I smuggled it inside a bag that was slung around my shoulders, and I celebrated in silence.

“Boys, we did it.” I whispered, resting my hands on the pedestal. “Viper, how’s escape looking?”

“All clear.” Kenpo answered, and Siren could faintly hear the clatter of a keyboard behind his excited voice. “Stick to the plan and you’re good to go. We’re gonna be rich in no time-“

There was an explosion ringing through our ears. I turned around, where there was a cloud of dust and debris from the explosion falling down in the other end of the hall.

“Viper, we’re not alone.” I told Kenpo, flicking my wrist to bring out a sword. In the darkness of the shadows, the blade glimmered in a faint purple, with the handles shining brighter than the golden dolphin. “Specifically, I’m not,”

From the dust, our unwanted visitor emerged. They were tall, taller than Storm towering over the much shorter me even from a distance. They wore an all black jacket with a hint of blue hidden in the shadows, with steel toed boots and what looked like a sword on their back. Their face was concealed by a hood, but when they pulled it back I immediately recognized who it was,

“Huntedskelly?” I gasped, lowering the sword down just a little.

“Oh it’s you, Siren.” Hunted growled, spinning a knife in his hands. His Storm grey eyes stared back at me, piercing a bolt of lightning through anyone that looked directly at him. The weight of the golden dolphin didn’t bother me, I was more worried about what he was doing here. “A nice surprise to see you here. I think you have what I want. The golden dolphin.”

“Amulet? What’s going on?” Kenpo asked as Hunted drew his dark sword. I was still trying to process what was going so answering Kenpo was the least of my worries.

Hunted cackled in the dark of the room, his insane face illuminated by the glow of his sword. His eyes shined silver, showing signs that he was crazy for violence. With the glowing sword in hand he charged forward, his cackling laughter echoing in the hallway.

“Amulet?” Storm asked as I dashed away from Hunted’s sword as it was brought down, the point of impact unleashing a spark of cyan that lit up the dark room. “What’s going on? Who’s attacking? Do you need assistance?”

“It’s Hunted!” I answered in panic as Hunted pulled out his sword from the ground, glaring back at me. My sword was still in my hands, and as he charged forward to strike again, I blocked the strike with my sword, a spark of blue and purple clashing in the night. I dashed backwards, pulling back a hidden mechanism on my right glove, revealing a hidden hand crossbow in enchanting blacks and purples.

”Agent Amulet, I’m sending King to you as backup.” Nephya commanded as I fired several shots from the crossbow. “Viper, continue monitoring the guards. We may need to escape.”

Kenpo didn’t answer. Hunted dodged majority of the shots but one of them landed dead center on his arm, forcing him to drop the sword. Taking the chance I lunged forward, tipping my balance off enough to swing under his arm to grab the still ignited sword. Before I could fully grab the sword, Hunted suddenly grabbed the ends of my hood, throwing me to the side.

“Backup would be appreciated.” Was all I could manage to say, and I heard Storm make a sound of reassurance. Before I could stand up a hand slammed me back into the wall, holding me there. A quiet hum of a laser shut me up, as Hunted’s eyes pierced through the veil of darkness.

“What do you want the dolphin for anyways? Profit?” I asked, flicking the glove again, revealing a set of crystalline knives embedded into the scales. The shining pointed ends stood inches away from Hunted’s neck, and I was ready to strike whenever.

Hunted smiled, drawing the sword closer. “What do you think I want it for? Fame? Hah that’s stupid.” He answered, tightening his grip on his sword. “There’s something mystical about it, and it’s not just some gold dolphin. There is power inside it. Now where have you hid it-“

He was interrupted by a hidden force tackling into him, knocking him into the ground. A second punch by a clocked figure sent a sharp bolt of lightning that shocked him, sending his screams across the room.

The cloaked figure took off his hood, revealing a set of familiar calming eyes and silver grey hair with a small braid at the end.

Storm.

“Can’t believe Hunted would just attack you like that…” He muttered as he helped me back up. I nodded in agreement. “Come on let’s get out of he-“

“Not so fast.”

Hunted, using every last of his strength to stand up, glared at us, his sword in his hands. Storm pulled out a trident, pointing it at his brother.

“We can end this peacefully.” He growled as he circled Hunted like a lion and a cheetah. “We can leave in silence, because I’m not going to hurt any of my brothers.”

“Well I’m not going to back down without the dolphin.” Hunted answered, staring back at his own brother. “I’m not going back, until the world is mine.”

There was a second of silence, before the brothers charged at each other and began the never ending fight of death, while I just stood there doing nothing. The bright blue of Hunted’s sword and the azure cyan of Storm’s trident clashed in the darkness, as I only watched from the distance.

During the fight I finally noticed why Hunted was so quick to attack, and why he raised his sword against his own family. In the silver pool of his eye, there was a glint of red.

There was something altering him.

Hunted slashed his sword, leaving a long scar across Storm’s eye as he screamed in pain. The room was illuminated in a bright red, and I tapped a single finger on the earpiece to connect to Kenpo. “Viper, don’t tell me this is-“

“A real alarm? Yup.” Kenpo answered, as Storm scrambled away from Hunted, covering his injured eye with his hand. Grabbing his free arm, I hit another button on my gloves, revealing a different hand crossbow that fired a grappling hook that pierced the ceiling, hooking onto whatever random pipe was there. Another button press and the grappling hook did its marvels, and we were on our way out.

Hunted’s red eye was clearly visible, as he hissed at the sight of our escape. Something told me this wouldn’t be the last time we’ll be seeing him.

[daveysjackie]

ralbert and 24 for the spotify wrapped drabbles ?

The Story of Broken Dreams

Spotify Writing Challenge (No 1)

Song: Dastaan-E-Om Shanti Om by Shaan

Albert tugged at his hair in annoyance as he stared into the mirror. He was unused to it not being its usual flaming red.

Davey sighed. “I know, Al.” He exchanged a look with Jack over Albert’s head. “But remember why we’re doing this.”

Albert set his jaw tight, staring at the little picture in the corner of the vanity mirror. “For Race.”

________________________

If this was a spy drama, Albert would be walking into a dark and mysterious casino, full of interesting characters that spoke in hushed whispers, assurances from his friends through the earpiece he had hidden in his ear.

But real life was nothing like that. This casino (if you could even call it that) was dim and dank. That didn’t seem to bother the high profile clients this place served. They were all still dressed in their work suits, chatting with associates as they placed bets that would have any regular person wincing.

Albert felt a little growl of disdain in his chest. These people gambled frivolously. With money and lives.

He stopped at a roulette table, pretending to watch. In reality, he was trying to find Jack and Davey, the only allies he had left.

Davey was on the far side of the casino, at a blackjack table. He had arrived half an hour prior and had already seemed to make himself comfortable. Albert couldn’t help the little snort of amusement that escaped him. Davey was in his element. But a moment later he looked up and saw Albert, his eyes flashing in recognition. He subtly mouthed “Jack” before continuing his game.

To avoid attracting suspicion, Albert placed a bet in the next round while he scanned the casino floor.

Initially, all three of them were going to gamble. However, Albert didn’t own a suit and none of Davey’s suits fitted him. Jack’s did but he only owned one. It took some arranging but Jack called in a few favours and got himself a job as part of the security for the night.

Sure enough, when Albert’s gaze landed on the bar, there was Jack, standing vigilantly, his gaze darting between Albert and Davey. Catching Albert’s eye, he casually tilted his head. Albert followed the movement with his eyes and felt anger bubble inside him when he saw the reason he had come to this place.

Spot Conlon. Laughing raucously with his companions as they gambled, the pile of chips he had was significantly larger than everyone else’s. Albert wouldn’t have been surprised if that was a result of cheating. Spot Conlon would do anything to win.

Even kill.

“I’m sorry, Albert. Maybe if things were different but…I love Spot.”

But Spot didn’t love Race. And Race paid the price.

Albert walked over to the bar, next to Jack, buying himself a seltzer.

“He’s already half-drunk.” Jack paused as Albert swallowed his drink all at once. “Remember, Al. We just need him to confess. Revenge comes later.”

Albert just nodded and made his way over to the poker table.

“Mind if I join?”

Spot Conlon stared him down. “Do I know you?”

Despite how awful he felt dark hair was on him, he was glad Davey had insisted he dye it. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He held out his hand. “Francis Sullivan,” he introduced, using Jack’s birth name. Spot didn’t recognise him and it would be best if it were kept that way.

“Spot Conlon.” They shook hands and Albert sat.

They played a few rounds and the entire time, everyone around the table shared stories of exploits, real and fictional. The common theme of utilising others made Albert feel unnerved.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Francis.” Spot was staring at him, curiously. “A man such as yourself must know a good story.”

Albert had been keeping tabs on how much Spot had drunk since he’d arrived. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he certainly was now.

“Well, I did hear a very interesting story from a few years back.” He subtly reached into his pocket and covered up the click of the recording device with a cough.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“The story starts with a young man, an actor. He specialised in dramas and the like. Always one for some embellishment. And he had a friend who loved him.”

“But…I love Spot. Actually, we’re getting married.”

���But he didn’t love his friend. Instead, he was getting married to a big shot. Some man who earned his money in less than legal ways.”

The men at the table cheered. Of course they would cheer, the man in the story was like them.

But Spot had started to recognise…something. His eyes were fixed on Albert, all attention diverted from the game.

Albert didn’t falter. “The actor and his fiancé went to the place they wanted to get married. The…uh…”

“The venue,” Spot filled in, stretching the syllables in what Albert thought was either suspicion or a drunken slur.

“Yep. And the fiancé, no one knows why, burned it down…with the actor inside.”

Mutters erupted at the table, the game effectively halted.

“But there’s a part of the story that no one knows.” Albert locked eyes with Spot Conlon, keeping his gaze and voice steady. “The friend of the actor had followed them and had seen and heard it all. He tried to rescue the man he loved but failed. Nearly died. They say he’s out for revenge.”

“Who did you say you were?” Spot growled.

Albert shrugged and left the table, excusing himself.

As he walked outside to the alleyway, he knew he was being followed. But he didn’t turn until Spot reached out and spun him by the shoulder.

“I shoulda recognised that stupid voice of yours, Albert.”

“That’s on you, Spot. Just like Race’s blood is.”

“Anthony deserved what was coming. He was sticking his nose into business that didn’t concern him.”

“Your business?”

Spot roughly shoved him against the wall. “Yes. My business. He knew too much. He had to die.”

“Albert! I can’t get out!”

“It’s okay, Racer. You’ll be okay.”

Albert snarled and grabbed Spot, spinning them around so it was Spot pinned against the wall. “You didn’t have to kill him. He loved you.”

Spot stared at Albert for a long moment then started laughing. A deep, scary laugh that made Albert loosen his grip ever so slightly.

“‘There’s a part of the story that no one knows,’” Spot told him between chuckles, echoing Albert’s story earlier. “When the fire died out, the fiancé went back, to make sure the actor was dead. But that stubborn little bastard had found himself a little corner to hide in. So his fiancé had to finish the job.”

Albert’s eyes widened, hoping to God that the recording device was picking this up.

“What did you do?”

Spot grinned wolfishly. “That venue has a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, undamaged by the fire. A miracle really.”

Albert pushed against Spot harder. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Directly underneath it,” Spot continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “In the ground, there’s the body. Little bastard didn’t stop screaming even after his fiancé sealed his grave.”

Spot shoved Albert, who was so shocked, he just stumbled backwards.

But Spot was still laughing. “And now, the actor’s friend will join him in hell.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, aiming it straight at Albert’s head.

“Drop the gun, Spotty. Or I’ll empty mine into the cavity where your heart should be.” Jack and Davey both emerged at the end of the alleyway. Jack’s gun was aimed directly at Spot.

“Well, if it isn’t my darling brothers-in-law.”

Albert saw Davey put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I only had one brother-in-law,” he said smoothly. “And you killed him.”

Spot snorted. “None of you have proof. Who do you think the police will believe, me? Or a lovelorn friend, an alcoholic brother and his enabling husband?” But he seemed reasonably cowed at being outnumbered because he pocketed the gun, spat on the ground and shoved past Albert.

Davey immediately rushed to Albert’s side. Jack kept his gun trained on Spot until he was out of sight before joining them.

“Didya get it?”

With shaking hands, Albert pulled out the recording device, pausing it. “I got it.” He held it against his chest as he watched Jack and Davey kiss.

They were one step closer to avenging his Race.