#hitman ficlet with gloves

[cicaklah]

Oooh! If I may, for the ficlet with gloves: watching the other prepare and enjoy a mango. I leave the ship and whether the execution is messy or precision-clean up to you.

Being in such close quarters for an extended time was maybe a mistake, Diana thought. Twenty years of knowing someone, however strangely and intimate it was between her and 47, there were still things that could surprise her.

Olivia had been to the morning market, waking the whole house up at 4am as she muttered and swore under her breath as she extracted herself from her mess of a lair. She had returned when Diana had been standing bleary eyed in front of the kettle with three boxes of fruit straight from the wholesalers.

"if I don't have some vitamins I'll die," she said bluntly. "Unlike the three of you, I can't live on spite, cigarettes and black coffee, and that disgusting bottled protein slop," she indicated grey, Diana and 47 in turn. "Humans are supposed to eat the rainbow, guys, didn't you learn anything at spy school?"

The three of them exchanged looks and then mutually decided to let it go. Olivia prepared a bowl of fruit, added some yoghurt and then a full two servings of her usual super sweet imported cereal, and then went back to her lair.

The fruit sat on the side, judging Diana every time she made a fresh v60, but other than a small apple pressed on her under duress, it continued to sit there.

The mangos were the only thing to disappear. They were good ones, smelling incredible as they rotted slowly in the cool berlin autumn. It turned out grey had a taste for them. Still though, it wasn't enough.

Dianas insomnia absolutely wasn't related to her consumption of coffee, oh no, but still she finds herself awake at 2am. Perhaps a camomile would help, she reasons, despite knowing better.

Getting up, she doesn't pull her robe on around her, letting the cold do it's tricks and make her miss her bed. She pads down the hall as quiet as she can, and rolls her eyes; Olivia had left the kitchen light on again.

She steps in and is startled by the sight of 47 instead. He's in what must be his sleepwear, a t-shirt and a pair of scrub bottoms. Her analytical brain notes the gama logo embroidered on the hem.

He has a large knife on the table, but that isn't the thing that surprises her. It's the remains of three mangos, inexpertly hacked up, sitting on a towel.

47 has a fork in his hand and is eating tiny cubes of the flesh from a bowl, but it makes dianas heart hurt how little he's removed from each fruit.

"first time?" She asks, and 47 looks at her.

"yes. Olivia stated they needed eating or we would get flies."

Diana takes a seat, and grimaces at the mess. "far be it for me to argue,"she says, and takes the knife and an intact fruit, and begins to cut.

She has seen many methods, but with fruit this ripe, you can't chip the skin off or even try and peel from the outside. She finds the stone and makes a deep utilitarian cut, following the curve until it's hairy husk is exposed. The neat half falls into her hand, and she begins to score it into cubes, before then flipping it inside out. It's messy, sure, but at least there's no waste. She takes her first bite, and groans; these are good. Still a bit sour despite their advanced ripeness.

They eat in silence, 47 watching her watching him. Then, he moves to get up and throw the rest in the trash, but Diana stops him.

"there's still the best part," she says, and as he watches, picks up the stone and sinks her teeth in.

It's sour and juicy and so so good it makes her make a noise. 47 sits again, but it's with an emotion; the chair clatters slightly under the sudden weight.

Diana finishes it, but doesn't meet his icey glare. This is a situation emerging, and must be played correctly.

"your turn" she says, after she places the stripped pit on the mess below. "Use your teeth."

47 picks up the fattest and juiciest pit in both hands. He holds it to his face, and with his eyes locked and burning on hers, he digs his teeth in. Juice, so much juice, runs down his face. He huffs a small noise, and chases it, letting it pool on his tongue. Then, with incredibly inexpert but extremely arousing skill of another kind, he proceeds to sensually, strip the pit down to the husk with his teeth, lips and tongue, his eyes on her the entire sopping time.

[cicaklah]

I forgot I wrote this!!

Have we ever considered… 47 and Diana are both shopping addicts… 47 has new (obviously expensive) pants on… Diana knows this… makes him finish in his pants anyway?

Oh nonny, you really needs to read @cicaklah's Barcelona. Trust me.

[tacticalhimbo]

Agent of Change: A Post-Canon Hitman World of Assassination Ficlet

Ever since the initial reversal of the conditioning Agent 47 had undergone at the hands of the Institute, he has struggled with the cost of remembering. All the lives he's taken. All the lives he's ruined. Even that of his closest accomplice, who has given him so much without the expectation of anything return; he hates it. He feels guilty. And, unknowingly on the date of her family's death, he apologizes to Diana for everything.

WORDS: 1.3k

FANDOMS: Hitman

This was a spur of the moment piece inspired by my partner and I developing our own little roleplay AU. Written in one shot with little to no looking over or beta reading.

'The gun never wonders whether it is on the side of good or not, son. It merely acts.'

'The gun doesn't remember, doctor.'

'Nor should you. That's not your job. While you're remembering things? Remember what happens when you let them affect you. Remember Minulescu. What happened there because of you.'

—

Flashes of decades' old violence came to 47 in turbulent waves. Would consume him briefly; overtake his senses until he found himself fixated on whatever happened to be before him. Muscles wound tight every time, fists idly clenching and unclenching as he lost himself in the coursing sensations. Lost himself in the increasing frequency of these moments. Ever since 6—Lucas. Ever since Lucas had helped him remember the depths of Providence's reign of terror, he'd been unstable. Emotional.

He was no longer a gun. He was human.

And sharing this new safehouse with Diana certainly did little to help ease him into this new skin of his. There were so many with her alone. All the times their work has pushed and pulled one to their extreme. Her faking his death through a spur of the moment betrayal. Him fulfilling the contract put on her life when she'd saved Victoria from the ICA's clutches—from a fate akin to his own. Her turning on him once more to get him close to the Constant. They had their own secret language, and none of it was a betrayal in the true sense. They always knew. But it was never any of those moments that stuck with 47; that haunted him. Instead, it was the moment neither had control over. A contract both him and Lucas fulfilled; the hit on her parents. The impromptu construction of a remotely detonated bomb, secured comfortably amidst the vehicle's engine. The combustion alone would have set it off, surely, though it was much simpler—much more fun, according to the older of the duo—to press the button themselves. And so they had. Left her behind in a flaming pile of ashen rubble and broken sobs.

Sunshine settled upon rich, reddened strands as the woman found herself working from the comfort of the couch, laptop secured on the nearby end table as she idly typed away. Shone upon her just as it had through the thickets that hung over the rows of gravestones. It caused the agent's breath to catch in his chest. Created pause as he tried to task himself with his usual routine whilst his handler tasked away at whatever it was she found herself up to. The swift unlocking of the door. Silent footsteps traversing down to the basement. Gloved hands finding themselves cusping his weapon of choice as he'd practiced. He didn't need to practice. He was a master of his craft—had been for a long time. It was simply the only way he knew how to pass the time, and time had passed. One hour, then two, then several. When he'd finally found himself wandering back upstairs, the safehouse was quiet as it was prior.

Diana was still at the couch, though it was clear she had found herself occupied with many things. Her laptop was set aside on the table. The common room smelt of toasted bread and sweet jam. The air was humid as he'd passed by the stove to retrieve a glass from the cupboard, then he saw the kettle set aside with discarded tea packs. As he turned to fill the glass from the sink, he saw the handler flipping through… a book? No, it was too big to be one of her normal reads. Soft brows knitted as he studied the glossed pages as they turned. Slender fingers paused as he'd silently entered her peripheral. Sat his glass upon the coffee table before sitting on the cushions just beside her. The album's cover closed with a soft sound, concealing the well-preserved photographs of a family long lost.

"Everything alright, 47? You seem to be deep in thought." Her voice was steady, though quieter than usual. Softened.

And she was right. He had been deep in thought. He was; no amount of distractions could press down the heavy guilt weighing on his conscience. His lips pressed together in a terse frown, vibrant blue eyes unable to lift themselves from the deep grain flooring.

"… I'm sorry, Diana."

The apology did little to dissuade the bubbling feelings that had begun to rise as she reminisced over the photographs. It had been an impromptu inspection, spurred by a quick glance to her weekly calendar and realizing what the date had been. Days had often found themselves blurring together in this line of work, though this time of year had always lulled to a grinding halt. It had been decades now, but it didn't sting any less. Especially upon learning the truth behind that fateful day. So she simply shook her head, attempting to force down those feelings with a little humor.

"For what, 47? You've nothing to apologize for." A coy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes appeared. "Unless you've gotten up to something without my knowing."

"I… remembered an old job. One before the ICA." Hesitation. An odd thing to see from 47. "… Your parents."

Right. She had assumed that was where this conversation was going, even if she desperately wished it weren't true. A part of her always wondered if he remembered what he'd done. Wondered if he'd felt anything if he had recalled the day. Did he regard it as any other job? A simple mission; nothing more, nothing less? Did he view her differently upon realizing that it was her family? Her hands unconsciously moved, filling the silenced air with the subtle shifting of fabric as they slid the album closer. Her arms compensated for the movement, almost cradling the object as if it were living. To her, in a weird way, it were. The last remnants of a past long lost to her. She sighed.

"47, I don't—I don't blame you for that. You were just… it… that was Providence's work. Their contract. Whatever information they fed you, it surely wasn't enough to make a judgment call—"

Covered arms were careful in the way they moved to close the space between them. A calloused hand rested on the other's arm, giving the opportunity for her to withdraw if she'd wished. Yet she didn't. Instead, a gentle hand came to rest on his, inviting the affections. Coaxing him into a slow, warm hug in which he was briefly hesitant to return. Afraid to, as deep down he wasn't quite so sure he wouldn't hurt her. There was no reason for him to, but considering the things he's remembered… He was afraid it was instinct. His nature. Yet, as she always seemed to be, she was not afraid. She welcomed whatever outcome would come to her. Should he end things once and for all, she would not blame him. Should he choose not to, she would not blame him. Still, though, she couldn't help the waterworks as she'd eased against him. As she leaned into his timid hold and allowed her face to rest against his shoulder as emotions came to overtake her, too.

She couldn't help the breathy laugh that revealed her cracking facade. "Damn it, 47. I had no intentions of crying today, you know."

A small smirk. The upward tilt of his tone. "I know."

The moments that passed felt so minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Yet, to them, they were momentous. A sign of the better future that would come; a closing chapter that neither knew they had still needed to see the end of. 47 had began to rub Diana's back as she cried, slow and rhythmically. Soothing.

'This is your gift. Your gift and your curse: Touching lives, only by ending them.' The echoing voice of the Warden breached 47's thoughts. No. That wasn't true. Not anymore. Not in the way he intended it to be.

"47?"

Curious blues found themselves trained on his handler. He didn't say anything, but she knew he was paying attention as she withdrew from their embrace. Brought her own hand to reach and gently touch at his cheek.

"Thank you. I… I forgive you."

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

Oneshots Drabbles

Here are all my oneshots drabbles and headcannons. you can find my long ongoing chaptered fics here on my Chaptered Stories Masterlist. and you can find my shorter series list here Ficlet masterlist

Disclaimer and my stance on RPF

Geeking Out (Henry Cavill X Reader/Fluff)

Babies New Specs  (Henry Cavill X Little Reader-Fluff)

The Shoe Policy (Henry Cavill X Reader-Domestic)

Grand Theft Auto(Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Domestic)

Dress Codes, Nooky And Cock Blocks (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Domestic/Fluff/🥵)

Kal And Fatherhood (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff)

A Rainy day (Henry Cavill x Reader- Angst/Fluff/🥵)

Lemme See!! (Henry Cavill x Pierced/Tattooed Reader-Fluff)

Mummy’s Jealous Boy (Henry Cavill X Wife!Reader- Fluff, angst)

Pooh Bear (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Fluff)

Your Man In Action (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Another Birthday Surprise (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff slight Angst)

A Clumsy Nugget (Henry Cavill X Little!Reader- Fluff)

Beanie Baby (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Implied Smut,Fluff,Domestic)

Baby Snuggles… Drink and wet? (Henry Cavill X Reader/CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!/Fluff/Humour)

Forever Home (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

The Date (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Deeper Then The Pink Tax (Henry Cavill X Reader- Angst/ Fluff/ Difficult subjects)

Their Alright… For A Boomer (Henry Cavill X BustyReader- Fluff, Suggestive)

Love Is Blind (Henry Cavill X Shelby!Reader- Peaky Blinders AU- Angslt,Fluff)

Your Perfect (Henry Cavill X Reader- ABO,Fluff, Angst)

The Mortals Claiming (Hades!Henry X Reader- god AU, Angst, Smut)

Fledgling (Vampire!Henry X Reader)

The Rubber Glove Experience (Henry X Nurse!Reader)

Panic In The Playroom (Daddy!Henry x Little!Reader)

The Assistants Assistance (Henry X Reader)

The Talc Slip Up (Henry X Reader/Humour/Fluff) 

Chubby Rodent (Henry X Reader/Fluff)

Bubbles (Daddy!Henry X Little!Reader/Fluff/Humour)

Everything Works (Henry X Reader/Fluff/Humour)

Bring It On Bitch (Clark Kent X Reader-Fluff)

Ace In The Hole (Diana Prince X Teen Reader-Fluff?)

FUCK OFF! (Bruce Wayne X Reader-Domestic/Fluff)

A Soft Bunny~ (Clark Kent X Reader -🥵/PetPlay)

Mounting Mistakes  (Clark Kent X Reader- 🥵/ABO)

The Ruined Cape (Clark Kent X Bratty Little Reader-Spanking)

L-Latex?!(Clark Kent X  Mistress/Domme Reader-Humour/Fluff/Domestic )  

We Didn’t Make It To My Birthday (Alpha!Clark Kent X Younger Omega Reader- A/B/O, 🥵)    

Clark The God Of Munch (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Lacking (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Numb (Clark Kent X Daughter Reader- Angst/ Mental Health Issues)

A Breeding Bunny (Dark!Clark X Reader-🥵Dark Fic)

I Cant Feel My Legs (Dark!Clark X Reader/ A/B/O 🥵)

Super-Hubby Proof (Clark X Reader/ BDSM/ Humor/🥵)

(Taming A Pa-Bear(Platonic!Geralt X Reader/Fluff/Angst?Homour)

The Witcher’s Missus (Geralt X Reader/Angst/🥵)

Nanma? (Geralt x Mage!reader/ Jaskier X Reader Platonic/fluff/crackfic/suggestive)

Hybrid Oil (Geralt X Reader/ suggestive/ Angry Geralt)

Mine (ALpha!Geralt X Omega!Reader/ angry Geralt/ABO)

A Family (platonic Geralt X Reader/ Angst/Spanking/Fluff)

Your Best Idea (Napoleon Solo x Wife Reader-Fluff/Domestic)

My Phone Died…Sorry?(Walter X Reader/Fluff/Angst/Immplied smut)

A Little Crime Spree (Papa!Sherlock X Little Reader- Spanking)

His Grace’s Protection (Charles Brandon X Reader- Fluff/Angst)

They Hung Up (August Walker X Little!Reader- Fluff)

She Calls Me Daddy 🥵(August Walker X Reader Daddy Kink-Smut Exhibitionism)

Use The Zipties (Walter Marshal x Drunk!Reader)

Manny (Sy x Drunk!Reader)

The Graves Case (Sherlock X Reader)

OCD Christmas (Walter X Reader/ Fluff)

Dick Christmas (August X Reader/ cavillmas challenge/ smut)🥵

Finish What You Stared (Walter X Reader/ Foot Kink/ Suggestive/Fluff)

My Little Trinket (Dark!Charles X Reader/dark fic)

Math?!(Daddy!August X Brat!Reader/DDLG)

A Lil’Lady (Mob Boss Sy X Reader/ fluff)

Hitman Daddy Dom (Daddy!August X Little!reader/DDLG/Fluff)

Adoption Day (Daddy!Henry X Little!Reader/ DDLG/Fluff/Angst)

Please Do Daddy (Daddy!Walter X Subby!Reader/ daddy kink/ sugestive)

A Kept Woman (August X Reader/ dark themes/kidnap)

Princess (Sy X Reader/ Fluff/Humour)

Soft!Bdsm Relationship Dom!Henry Sub!Nurse

Wearing Plugs on a date Dom!Henry 🥵

Being A Jealous Little At A Party Daddy!Henry

Scolded By Another Daddy In Front Of Daddy!Henry

Tangled In Knots DDLG

When Your Knee Is Injured DDLG

A Maintenance Spanking DDLG

Caught Pigging Out DDLG

An Inner Ear Infection DDLG

Helping With Hate DDLG

Pms and Headache remedies DDLG🥵

Insomnia /Trouble Waking In The Morning DDLG

Caught Listening To Bratty Songs DDLG

Getting Scared Watching MI6 DDLG

Cutting Your Hair DDLG

Henry Answers A Zoom Call With Pretty Hair DDLG

Story time Wisdom teeth DDLG

Tooth Fairy Haggle DDLG

The accident DDLG

Sherbert and baths DDLG

The Icecream Van DDLG

Slapping Daddies Hand DDLG

Superman’s Dishcloth

Couples Race

Sugar haul DDLG 

Yeah Daddy DDLG

Baby Hustle

A Headcannon Crack Series- Geralt see’s an opportunity to add to his family and finally have something both he and Yennefer have always wanted. A baby, now they just had to figure out how to look after it.

The Exchange / / Got Milk? / / Your Turn / /Hmm…Hm? / /Lil’Bleater

Misc

Vesemir and Geralt bath sharing M/F/M

Playing With August’s Knives DDLG

The Deal (Clark X Reader X August)🥵 / / Pt 2  / / Pt3🥵?

Malicious Compliance (Sherlock X Reader)

Coming Home Drunk (August X Drunk!Reader)

April Fools! (Sy X Reader) slight smut 🥵

Mocki (Sy X Reader)

Hair Pulling  101 Dom!Henry

A Latte (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

Swallow-Geralt Of Rivia

Ducky- Humphrey Mummy!Domme

The Making Of Sy’s Mini Me- Sy Smut

Walter Told You Not To Touch! Walter implied smut?

“Pull out” “No”-Sy Smut

Little Office Bunny- August implied smut

Jewel In The Crown August Walker

[hitmanfanfics]

Chapter Update!

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 28: a night at the opera (641 words) by cicak

Chapter Summary:

cajunandfire asked: I just rewatched Moonstruck last night and I love the scene where Johnny and Loretta go to see la bohème. You mentioned you love opera too, right? Maybe 47 and Diana go to the opera together.

Chapters: 38/? Fandom: Hitman (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Agent 47/Diana Burnwood Characters: Diana Burnwood, Agent 47 (Hitman) Additional Tags: sniper assassin, Hurt/Comfort, New Year's Eve, Scars, Kink Negotiation, Absolution, Showers, Innuendo, canon-typical innundo, the Fuck Cabin, Overheard, Relationship Advice, Public Sex, Undercover as Married, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Hot Tub Sex, Pool Sex, Fingerfucking, Outdoor Sex, Soup, Worst Ending, hitman 3 spoilers, Sex Toys, bigdick47, tactical wetsuit, Amnesia, Masturbation in Shower, Blood money, Bruises

Summary:

Tidied up versions of the ficlets I write while in the bath from prompts sent to my tumblr ask box, because tumblr is ephemeral but fic deserves to be eternal. 10/03/21: dom!47/sub!Diana but-not-really added. 12/03/21: added absolution shower (not that one), innuendo, and a steak side. 21/03/21: added relationship advice. 47 does a quiz and accidentally develops a feeling! 25/03/21: added Diana listening in on some private time 05/04/21: added comfort riding on a train, HAVEN island undercover married sex and demon Diana. 05/05/21: added some tiesy upsies 01/06/21: added several ficlets covering: a steak side (hot tub at the fuck cabin), pool party at HAVEN, 47 and Diana talking it out, fucking in the mendoza lavender beds, a gen ficlet about Diana caring for 47 post Patient Zero, and the newly released worst ending to Hitman 3. 05/06/21: added sex toys! and a callback to the first ficlet! 31/07/21: added tactical wetsuit groping, sick diana healing, absolution showering, blood money coffin deflowering and amnesia skyscraper bar drinking

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 29: another night at the opera (533 words)

Chapter Summary:

bourbonpowered asked: For the ficlet prompts: make up sex

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 30: saddy saddy fap fap (694 words)

Chapter Summary:

Anonymous asked: 47 feeling lonely and lost and having a sad fap in his safehouse in Chongqing.

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 31: single minded fixation (747 words)

Chapter Summary:

Cajunandfire asked: So... like this lust ask: https://cicaklah.tumblr.com/post/650900314235502592/for-the-lust-dlc-itll-be-berlin-like-where-the

Maybe 47 is trippin' out and everyone looks like Diana but he has to find the real one?

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 32: all a complex metaphor about the weather, really (1095 words)

Chapter Summary:

Anonymous asked: RE: 47 x diana - She propositions him in vague terms and he goes along with it and neither one of them really admits to it even as he slowly undresses her, pretty please :'D

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 33: fun with rubber ducky (515 words)

Chapter Summary:

Diana-fortyseven asked: You know these rubber duck shaped waterproof vibrators? 47 and Diana are having fun in the bathtub, and he's utterly confused when she adds the ducky AND IT DOESN'T EXPLODE.

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 34: did i mention it was my birthday enough???? (488 words)

Chapter Summary:

Anonymous asked: Happy birthday 🎉🎂, it's also my sister's birthday.

Diana and 47 celebrating each others birthdays.

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 35: I only wrote two 7DS ficlets, and one of them was for sloth. Go figure. (520 words)

Chapter Summary:

dianaburnwood I'm sorry, the dark suit and shirt, the loosened silk tie, the moody lighting, the comfy slouching in the chair Like lemme just run that silk tie through my fingers, maybe give it a little tug It's too early for these feelings diana-fortyseven

Patiently waiting for the @cicaklah ficlet...

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 36: parenthetical (1071 words)

Chapter Summary:

Cajunandfire asked: And a little birthday related prompt for you:

47 surprises Diana on her birthday 👀

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 37: kiss debt (366 words)

Chapter Summary:

hndcrm asked: ficlet prompt if ur stil taking them: 47 finding out about the kiss in BM, up to u how & when 😏😏

cicak posted a new chapter of ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves (28915 words):

Chapter 38: I see Paris I see France (872 words)

Chapter Summary:

cajunandfire asks: A ficlet suggestion: Thinking along the lines of Electric Wire. 47 and Diana go out to a nice dinner and some smutty under-the-table shenanigans ensue.

[cicaklah]

Diana and 47 are undercover as a couple at a wedding. Their hotel room has a bathtub.

The day had been a very long one by the time the taxi pulled up at the low, anonymous hotel, hidden from view in the otherwise rugged landscape by some trees and a major road to nowhere.

47 loitered in the reception, watched as a gaggle of women scurried past with facemasks and glasses of champagne towards one of the suites, while Diana checked them in.

From behind he couldn't hear what she was saying, but her shoulders were tense, and he could see that her heels were rubbed raw from the walking they'd unexpectedly had to do between the various modes of transit they'd taken.

Curiously, Diana touched the receptionists hand gently, as he handed over the room keys. "It means a lot," he hears her say, as she gestures behind herself. "To both of us".

With a nod, 47 picked up the bags, and Diana headed to the lift.

The room, when they arrived, was much grander than he expected.

"I told them it was our anniversary," Diana said. "He was a nice man. He's sending up some champagne..." There was a knock on the door. ..."as we speak".

47 opened the door, and sure enough, there was a pimply faced youth with a glistening bottle of something expensive in a sweating ice bucket.

Bringing it inside, Diana had locked herself in the bathroom, so ye busied himself unpacking and hanging up their outfits for the next day, a pale green dress for her, a dove grey suit for him.

Diana opened the door, and she had a mischievous smile on her face. 47 could hear the rushing of water behind her.

"come," Diana said, and inside the bathroom was the most remarkable tub. It took up most of the room, and while the water pressure left something to be desired, 47s aching shoulders yearned just looking at it.

They stared at it together.

"you should take it first", 47 says, but Diana is shaking her head. "You carried our bags up that mountain."

"you climbed it in heels".

"you had to land the plane!" She was incredulous.

"I never would have got control if not for you", he says, and Diana just sighs and pinches her nose.

"this is ridiculous. We are sharing a bed. We can share a bath."

"fine." 47 says, and then Diana skims her dress over her head, glaring at him as she steps out of her underwear and groans as her bra drops to the floor.

47 turns to strip, but the sound of Diana getting into the hot water causes him to turn around, such is the orgasmic moan that escapes her lips.

When he finishes, she's sitting hugging her knees at the tap end, and so he gets in and mirrors her, two stubborn idiots determined not to enjoy themselves.

47 tries not to think about how they're naked together; it's just...expedience. it had been a long and very trying day. They had slept, truly slept, together a dozen times on missions, and nothing had ever happened. Diana always politely ignored him changing or the way they woke up near each other, and he always did the same.

"this is ridiculous." Diana says. "Lie down. I'll lie on top of you. It'll be fine."

He does as he's told, lowering himself onto his elbows and stretching his legs out between hers, but when she lies on him, it's enough to push his shoulders down into the hot, gorgous water, and he moans, throwing his head back.

"oh!" Diana says, and from between their entangled thighs, 47s erection, normally well behaved in polite company, decided that moment to rise to the occasion.

They lay there, stock still, but then Diana wriggled, wriggled!, And then her soapy, bubbly thighs closed around him, pressing his dick against the v of her legs, and he bucked up and she gasped and pressed her thighs tighter, and maybe it was something other than exhaustion and bubble bath but she was even slicker than the water, and so 47 braced his feet against the foot of the bath and pushed, his hands reaching round and grasping her, grasping her breasts with her hair in his face and the moment he came he felt like he was drowning, drowning in a lake of Diana burnwood.

Without a word, Diana rolled over and climbed up his chest, her magnificent body streaked with spunk and suds, and grabbing her hips he pulled her to his mouth, and devoured her, really gave into what his instincts were telling him after a day of near death and life affirming experiences, and gave back as good as he could give.

She came soon, and then slid, as if oiled, down his body, until they were face to face.

The enormity of what had just happened overwhelmed him, and he turned his head away. Holding his jaw in place, she gently turned him back to face her.

"it doesn't have to change anything," she said, kindly, but something within him snapped, and he kissed her, kissed her with everything that had been jostled loose by the crash landing. "I want it," he says, and Diana just nods and says "alright, then," and kisses him back with purpose.

[cicaklah]

So I'm at a wedding and my hotel room has a bath so....

It's ficlets with gloves time!!!!

Send me your ficlet prompts as an ask, I will get in the bath and write them!!!!

Hitman, oxventure, even a little star trek picard if ya nasty, come one, come all!!!

[cicaklah]

Wait no longer, friend.

---

The flat was dark when Diana let herself in, which immediately put her on edge. She had taken to leaving a light on, too many times she had been caught by shadowy figures hiding in the darkness, and so it may be hell for the environment, but she never leaves the home fires unlit.

Tonight though, she's been working late, had promised herself she'd sleep in the car home, but her driver had wanted to chat, then her phone had rung, and she'd put out fires all the way home. She was tired and hungry and wanted nothing more than to take her bra off, pour a glass of wine, and relax.

"I have to warn you, the police are already on their way." Diana calls out.

"No they're not", 47 says. To anyone else, a statement like that would sound cold, or like a threat. She knows him too well to jump to those conclusions.

She flicks on the lights and takes him in. Immediately she thinks he is injured, because he looks rumpled, his tie loosened and top button undone. His jacket has creases, and he's almost slumped in his chair.

It's then she realised that she woke him up, coming in. That he had been waiting for her, and had nodded off.

"Do you want a drink?" Diana asks, putting her bag down and turning on the lights.

"Later", he says, and unbidden, she walks over to him. He doesn't get up, and in her heels she is so much taller than him, and she's never looked down on him before. He looks up, and his eyes are heavy with sleep, he's languid, relaxed, a big cat purring in the sun.

"You're in my seat, 47", she says, putting her best authoritative voice on, and he just looks at her. He isn't saying anything, can't seem to bring himself to.

The chair is big, big and deep and she's often fantasised about finding him in there, wondered whether it was big enough for two. Diana Burnwood is a practical woman, and so she isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The chair does fit two. Her skirt is usually demure, appropriate, but it can't stretch over her thighs spread so wide, so she's all stocking tops and bare skin beneath rumpled wool suiting, and his face is very close. His tie is closer, and the silk is almost oily in its softness, the colour looks beautiful against the skin of his throat, against the red of her nails.

His hands are warm on her thighs, and when she goes to kiss him she finds him already there, kissing her with languid softness, his fingers tucked in her stocking tops and then cupping her arse deliciously, and she never really imagined this, not really. She'd imagined it a lot of ways, even in this chair, but she'd never dared to think of him as soft, thick as golden syrup and just as sweet, just as bad for her.

I want to crawl onto his lap ok

[cicaklah]

good news for hitman fandom I have decided on my new bath and have an appointment with the bath design service (apparently quickest way to get a plumber in 2023) on Saturday.

[diana-fortyseven]

Do you have any fanfic recommendations (other than your own)? Thank you in advance!

Always!! I suppose you're looking for Hitman fics, specifically 47/Diana, so here's a small list to get you started:

Half the Victory is a must-read for a nice canon compliant slow-burn!

Little Deaths is another must-read. Diana and 47 enjoy a few very intimate days and try to get over it because they're idiots in love. <3

even steak don't cry has to be on this list, obviously. Pining and slow-burn and a glorious conclusion.

Ordinary Days another glorious, sweet and long one-shot!

Death and Orchids is not shipping focused, but the interactions between Diana and 47 are so delicious to read.

Highly recommend the two Catharsis stories for 47 thinking that his feelings for Diana are unrequited and learning that they aren't.

Good, Giving and Game is a PWP classic!

in every life a little rain is glorious with an unreliable narrator.

Box Dye features unresolved romantic tension, but sweet interactions.

run like a river to the sea -- reccing this one for the tactical wetsuit alone, hehe.

Non posso vivere senza di te is a very sweet one-shot taking place after Hitman 3.

A little bit of everything can be found in ICA Outstanding Performance Tumblr Ficlets with Gloves, a one-shot collection.

And there's always my public bookmark section on AO3, that I use as a rec list. Currently 56 works in there (that I couldn't all link for obvious reasons lol)!

[cicaklah]

Another ficlet prompt: Diana and 47 finally talk about what happened to her parents. She forgives him.

He's not really sure how they got onto the topic in the first place. Perhaps the wine and the rolling Italian hills had done what they've done for millennia, and loosened tongues. They were talking about a movie they'd seen on the flight, when Diana realised they were making the same choice, and shared her ear phones with him, her head resting on his shoulder. The film had multiple timelines, different versions of the protagonist as she strove to save the world.

"I think about those other Dianas", she says. "The ones who made different choices. Christ, imagine if someone had given me competent therapy when I was 14, where would I be? I'd be someone's wife somewhere, or raging at primogeniture outside the lord's, or god knows, some civil servant or MP or charity head, embezzling funds."

"You'd have been good at all of it, I'm sure", he says loyally.

"Or if someone at Providence had developed a conscience, and shot that sadistic fuck who bred you in the face" she continues, "and found you a family. Some poor childless herald who would have loved you and kept you safe."

His heart yearns at that, how cruel it sounds, how much he never ever thought of it. Because yes, if the world was a just place, it wouldn't occur to anyone to raise a child how he was raised.

"Think of all what wouldnt have happened", and they both think of a car bomb on a crisp autumn morning.

"I'm sorry", he says, and they both know what for.

"I'm older than my mother ever got to be", Diana says, fingering the rim of her wine glass. It makes a mournful sound that hangs in the air. "It was her birthday last week, and it just hit me. That it wasn't fair. She never did anything wrong, and died, while I'm...well. I doubt even the best theologians can make that make sense."

When she looks up her eyes are soft.

"Don't look at me like that, she says, smiling kindly. "I know you don't remember."

"I do." He says, and then hastily corrects his tense. "I did remember. After the serum. It was one of the first things I remembered. Janus, Six, You."

"In that order?" She says as she leans forward on her elbows and takes his hand over the table. Her hand is slight and elegant, skin soft and well manicured. "I'm honoured."

"I wish it was a better memory." He says. "But there aren't a lot of them in there."

She squeezes his hand. The candlelight reflects in her eyes warm and alive. "There have been better memories since?"

He thinks about her stabbing him, betraying him, using him, about the stolen glance in the airport after Bangkok, the reassuring touch of her hand before he took the serum, the way she touched his hand on the overlook in Argentina. The press of her body, of her in his arms as they swayed around the dance floor, unable to let go of a stolen moment. Of seeing her again, slates wiped clean. The first touch of her lips to his, the first time he took her to bed, the first time waking up together. The way she's touching him now.

"Much better memories" he says, and adds her answering smile to them.

[cicaklah]

At the risk of seeming self-aggrandizing, you know the bit in C2 of Little Deaths where Diana and 47 roleplay meeting in a bar? I'd love to see your take on how a scenario like that might actually play out, with 47 and Diana meeting 'in the wild' by accident and just going with it.

In honour of little deaths finishing (brava!!)...

---

It was a rare night that Diana allowed her friends to drag her out on the town. She'd never been a normal young woman, charging extortionate rounds to her credit card, layered on top of the expensive dress, shoes, hair and nails she'd charged to it earlier, a sequence of shame to wince at next time the statement thuds through the letter box. She'd always been able to afford it, even when she was a student, it was never that, though she'd always been busy running a triple life, too busy keeping up appearances to have actual experiences. She'd managed to make friends, of course, she's always been someone to whom acquaintances came naturally, so the thrill of that night of high stakes drinking, uncomfortable and glamorous, snuck up on her, until she was blending in easily, mirroring the girls around to appear like them, just another twenty something, new to the city about to start a career "financial services", pretending to be something she's not.

That night had been her last as a normal person. She was heading to Switzerland, to finish handler training, take her pick of the trainees, establish a life of slightly more legitimate chrime. She'd gone wild, gone home with a guy, shocked her friends by being brazen, making out with him at the bar, climbing into his lap, letting everyone see how his fingers went all the way up, then dragged him into a taxi by his tie.

He'd been tall, bald and beautiful. He'd taken her back to his apartment in the brutalist magnificence of the Barbican, fucked her gloriously over the balcony, the city below her, a fitting send off, the lights winking adieu in Morse code. She didn't ask his name, didn't take his number, didn't hang around. Kissed him on the cheek after he'd come inside her with a startled grunt, and whistled to herself as she'd got lost trying to find the way out.

When a few weeks later 47 had turned up in Switzerland, she'd had a spike of deja vu at his face. She'd been drunk, and there had been some pills, so her memories were mostly a swirl of pleasure and daring and exhilleration, just a perfect night, borrowed, never returned. It would be extremely unlikely, she thought. Extremely. Just coincidence. She didn't remember the man's face, and 47 seemed to have no recollection. So she never dwelled on it. Mostly forgot about it, really.

The night had gone down in infamy among her friends. twenty years later, she'd let the girls talk her into reliving it, best they can. "Adjusted for current tastes and bank balances" Lisa laughed throatily.

So they're there, in one of London's most expensive skyscraper bars. The original bar was long since gone, and the skyscraper stood in its stead, so it seemed fitting to go drinking £20 cocktails and trying to not talk about how mundane their lives have got, the husbands, kids, the promotions to senior vice president, on the site of a London and lives long disappeared.

Dianas nods along, making sympathetic noises, trying to construct a not-too-interesting twist for explaining how she can be so busy and high flying and yet had disappeared off the global finance map for her entire professional life, when out of the corner of her eye she sees something that sets an alarm off in her mind. It's improbable. They're in a city bar on Friday night. How many tall bald men in good suits are there in the city? Especially when anyone even slightly balding shaves his head these days. She shakes her head, downs her drink.

"Another one?" She asks brightly. "My treat." She doesn't stop to hear their orders.

At the bar, she jostles her way to the front and makes an order up on the spot. She holds her credit card delicately between two fingers, flipping it between them as their drinks are shaken and stirred, lurid and deadly to both liver and wallet.

Someone bumps into her, and she drops it. In the dark, a sliver of black plastic, it could be anywhere. She swears, bends down, and her hand collides with his.

She looks up into his piercing blue eyes and loses her breath.

"You! Here!" The cocktails in her blood stuttered, making her obvious and mundane.

"Tobias", 47 says. "We used to work together at...the bank. Good to see you again."

She pulls herself together, stands up, and leans back to pay. "Yes, it is. How long has it been?"

"Forever", he says. "Twenty years. Do you want a hand?"

She hesitates, then hands him two drinks. "Follow me."

She gets back to the table and deposits the drinks with a florish. "Ladies, excuse me a moment. I have...." And something of the old Diana took over. "Something to take care of."

She walks away to a whoop and a mutter from her friends, his tie in her fist, and drags 47 back into the suptous onyx bathrooms and pushes him down into the closed toilet seat.

"Who sent you?"

"No one." He says.

"who knows you're here?"

"no one.", He repeats slowly. "I didn't know you were here. It was a surprise. This place has a Michelin star in the restaurant. I have a reservation upstairs in an hour. It was hard to get."

She looks down at him, and frowns.

"You're lying." She says.

"I am. I saw your calendar. I also remembered. After the serum. The last hit I did, before they wiped me. I had some time, went to a bar, and there was this woman, and I took her home to the flat of the man I murdered, stole a normal life for a single night, like I knew what was coming. I wish I'd never forgotten."

He reaches out and touches the warm skin of her knee, looks up at her. "Do you remember?"

"oh." Diana says. "Oh. Fuck. Of course."

"I really do have a reservation upstairs" he says. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"You owe me that at least", she says, pulling him back to standing, and then pulling him down to kiss her. "Then we've got a date with a balcony."

[cicaklah]

Diana comfort-riding 47 on a plane/train seat after a mission gone wrong

They exfil in a haul of bullets onto a train seconds before it pulls out of the station. Outside, he can hear angry voices swearing in rough, slangy, misogynistic language, can hear bullets ricocheting uselessly off the thick steel and hard bangs as the thugs impotently bang on the walls.

Diana is vibrating in terror, he can feel her pressed up against him. The blood of their contact is caked on her dress, hidden for now underneath her coat. Her face is pale and her makeup is mostly gone from sweat and how she keeps wiping off imaginary blood spatter.

They had no choice but to finish the mission, they had gone that far. The fates were on his side as he took that shot, and the target crumpled under the heavy chandelier, and it was obvious even from 500 meters that his neck was broken. A tragic accident, but they had already been made. A pity. He had hoped to take her to a restaurant afterwards, where they could toast their success, and then he could do what he'd previously fantasised about, and make love to her in a suite overlooking the sparkling city lights, safe and sound, triumph coursing through their veins.

Not so much now. Their suite will be empty tonight. They will need to jump the train at some point, though there is no stop for two hours, it just gives their enemies a chance to rally forces at the other end.

Diana is on her phone, ordering them tickets to ensure their presence is kosher. It's a sleeper train, but it's not like the old days with cabins and privacy. The seats lean back a bit, but it's just a train. Airline seating, they call it.

He can't bear to leave her looking so pale, but she waves him away to go scope out somewhere to hide. He keeps an eye out for a woman of approximately Diana's dimensions, and lifts her suitcase from the end rack easily through basic deduction, it is black and serviceable, but the luggage tag is in the shape of an apple.

He buys a paltry cold dinner from the buffet car, then lets himself into first class. There's two single seats free, opposite the aisle, semi hidden, but right by the door. It will have to do. He texts Diana, and a few moments later she arrives.

Their seats face each other, and she arrives, takes the suitcase and immediately steps into the bathroom. While she changes and freshens herself up, 47 eats an ice cold sandwich and drinks a warm can of coke, the sugar making him feel human again.

Diana steps out a few minutes later in a slouchy jumper dress, her legs bare and feet clad in socks. "Everything else was clubwear" she says, wrinkling her nose. Poor girl.

"I'm sure if she checks lost and found, they'll have it" he says, and passes Diana her dinner.

The car is quiet. It's 11pm local time, though their body clocks are synced half a world away. Maybe the caffeine was a mistake. The businessmen nearby are asleep.

Diana isn't eating, and she's not even cracked the seal of her drink. "You need to eat", 47 says. "It helps with the shock."

"I know", she says. "I know, logically. Just." She looks so lost.

"Come here." He says, and she steps across the aisle to him. He intends to just hold her, but she straddles his lap and grips him with her thighs, bare under the soft wool dress, and kisses him ferociously, one hand on his jaw, the other groping his cock. He's completely soft for now, but she growls into his mouth and okay, if that's what she wants. It doesn't take much.

"I need this", Diana whispers, undoing his flies and plunging her hand in. She's playing dirty, she knows how to get him going so fast. "Help me", she whispers, and when he puts his hands under her dress he finds she doesn't need much help, already she's naked and soaking, takes two fingers easily.

It doesn't take long for him to be hard enough to scratch diamonds, and Diana shifts herself up and sinks down, sealing her mouth over his so as to steal any sounds for herself.

This is unlike any other time they've had sex. Usually they are alone, they take their time. They talk. He's never had sex in public, on a train. She usually likes to let him set the pace, but not this time. He tries to help, to thrust, but she tsks at him and tells him to stay put, she needs this. She closes her eyes and he watches her take her comfort from him, feels how wet and desperate and wound tight she is. He does his best to help, kisses her neck and slides her clit between the knuckles of his second and middle fingers, feels just how swollen and hyperaroused she is, does his best to press all her buttons at once. She comes quietly, just a tiny sob and an exhalation against his ear, but her body screams it's orgasm, locking tight and shaking so hard he has to hold her close to stop her falling on the rough carpet.

They sit there like that, Diana crying softly in relief against his shoulder, his dick tucked inside her, comfort more than anything, until the automatic lights come on, and the next station announcement chimes over the intercom.

[cicaklah]

Diana ~accidentally~ listening in on 47 pleasuring himself at night because he forgot to turn his headset off and it's on the floor right next to his sleeping bag... She knows it's wrong but she doesn't want to disconnect the call.

He realises his mistake in the morning but doesn't know if she heard something and he's too afraid to ask.

The ICA, for securities sake more than anything else, is keen to make sure that there is as little redundant or obsolete technology circulating in their system. This can be a problem if you are running an operation out of the other side of the world to your agent, and a critical security update comes down over the wires just as he arrives in a country known for its pisspoor internet.

Diana's never been one to obsess over 47s extra curriculars. She trusts him more than literally anyone else. After so many years, she doesn't bother doing more than cast a cursory eye over what his tracker says and whether his whereabouts match what he registers with the team. Unlike other handlers, she doesn't spy on him and never has.

Still, that blasted update. Australia should be better, and yet, she can see the download creeping over the air into the headset. It has to remain on, which makes her uncomfortable, not because she doesn't trust him, but because she wants to know. Because that's the other side of the coin; she doesn't spy, therefore she doesn't know what he does when he's alone and the temptation is killing her.

It's ten hours time difference, and so it's very late there now. There shouldn't be anything to keep an eye out for, but there's a pattern on the monitor and traitorous little voice that encourages her to listen in, just in case. Perhaps he snores. That would be funny.

She unmutes, just for a second, and then slams the mute button back on ten seconds later, and feels herself flush.

Not snoring.

Diana has never been hugely moral; hard to have the upper ground when you facilitate murders for a living. It doesn't bother her, she has her own moral code and is happy to live by it. Her finger hovers over the unmute button. Being wicked must have some of its own benefits.

The noises, once she takes a deep breath and forces herself not to be embarrassed, are deeply erotic. He's breathing heavily, and huffing little bursts of pleasure rhythmically. She can hear the pace he's set is slow and yet there's definitely a flick to the wrist somewhere in there, he's definitely drawing it out. She can't hear any other sounds, so there's no woman or pornography to aide him, so he's obviously pulling from memory or fantasy. The sounds are slick and wet, and all of this pulls into her mental picture of him lying on his back, eyes closed, in the dark with a hand full of lube, dragging it out, making it count.

Lord, she wishes there was video. He is such a remarkable specimen. Such a shame Google glass never went anywhere.

Hes speeding up now, and the sounds are getting more pronounced, both the slick slide of dick through fist, and the little grunts at the top of every move, he's definitely getting close.

"Dya-ahhhh" he groans, and her eyes bug in their sockets. She can't have heard that right.

She rewinds the feed and hears him come a dozen times trying to decode what she heard, heart in her mouth, still unsure.

Over the feed, 47 has finally drifted off to sleep. She's pleased to learn that he doesn't snore.

She checks the state of the download, and sighs. Still six hours to go.

[cicaklah]

Okay I've got enough prompts for a while now, thanks.

Also, there's definitely someone who absolutely should be writing their own ficlets. Be empowered! You've got great ideas!

[cicaklah]

Updated my ficlet collection with the last couple of days stories:

absolution shower (not that one)

in your endo

steak side #1